"Henwell the Lucky? Henwell the Brave? Which nickna do you prefer?" Fabio teases, prompting Henwell to give a wry smile.
"It's not as grand as they say. It's just because I'm so young. The enemy was fooled by my age, giving a chance to ambush them. Otherwise, I'd have died on the battlefield."
Fabio's smile fades as he pats Henwell's arm.
"Henwell, it's my fault. I promised you wouldn't have to go to the battlefield, and I broke that promise. It brings sha to my family's honor."
Henwell replies, "Don't worry about it, sir. This battle took us all by surprise; none of us expected it. Technically, being in the army ans I should fight, but I'm too young. Give a few more years to grow up, and I'll surely beco a capable warrior and a loyal aide to you."
Fabio chuckles, "I believe you. You will beco a knight one day, and I'll find a way to get you a knight's title. But that's for later."
"For now, I've already arranged that you won't have to participate in any more battles. You'll stay in my tent and help organize things. Also, as compensation for breaking my promise, you can ask for anything you want. If I can get it, I will."
Seeing Henwell about to speak, Fabio adds, "I know you're a polite young gentleman, but you mustn't refuse. This is my chance to restore my honor."
After a mont's thought, Henwell tentatively asks, "Alright then. If possible, could you provide with more auxiliary training potions?"
Fabio responds without hesitation, "Of course. I'll have them sent to you shortly."
After Fabio leaves, Henwell breathes a sigh of relief, knowing he won't have to fight in the upcoming battles.
He had only faced peasant soldiers, where his skills gave him an edge, yet he still got injured.
If he'd been unlucky enough to be sent to the front lines against well-ard, battle-hardened soldiers, he wouldn't have stood a chance.
With Fabio's promise, his chances of survival increase significantly.
Henwell speculates that this unexpected skirmish is likely to spark a full-scale battle. The allied forces are considering a retreat but can't simply withdraw without ensuring the enemy won't pursue them relentlessly, which could turn their retreat into a disastrous rout.
On the other hand, the allied forces, pressured by the political demands of the Ika Kingdom, must quickly push the enemy out of their territory.
Both sides are contemplating a retreat. When the allied forces eventually pull back, the private armies of the nobles will likely be in disarray, giving Henwell an opportunity to escape.
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He plans to return to his ho's cellar, wait for the enemy to leave, and then reerge quietly once the royal forces restore order.
With no one left to accuse him of being a lackey for the enemy, everything could return to normal.
Just as Henwell is dreaming of a brighter future, Fabio's ssenger arrives with a delivery.
Seeing the fourteen neatly arranged bottles of body-strengthening potions, Henwell's face shifts from sheer joy to a sudden, sharp realization, his expression montarily frozen.
Quickly regaining his ecstatic facade, he carefully stores the potions away, though his mind is in turmoil.
The quantity isn't right. It's not that there are too few, but far too many.
If Fabio had given fewer than five, it would an Henwell held so importance, but not much more than that. More than five would indicate Fabio values him highly and wants to nurture him closely.
Henwell never imagined receiving more than ten potions, as this would require Fabio to marshal considerable resources, sothing not easily done in a short ti.
This situation could only an one thing: soone is aiding Fabio from behind the scenes.
Henwell suspects that he has caught the attention of soone significant, likely Count Obiken of the Vorry Principality, once the commander of the Silent Battle Axe and Fabio's relative.
This is troubling news.
Henwell is aware of his limitations. He might be able to deceive soone as inexperienced as Fabio, but facing a seasoned veteran like Obiken is a different story.
Whatever the reason for Obiken's interest, it spells trouble for Henwell.
He can already sense the looming danger.
At this mont, Fabio ets with Obiken.
"Did you deliver the items?" Obiken asks, his gaze steady.
Fabio bows respectfully, "Yes, Count, they have been delivered."
Obiken sets down his book and looks up at Fabio. "What do you think of that young fellow?"
Fabio considers for a mont, "He's clever, a promising talent. I was actually planning to recomnd him to you. Once the war is over, perhaps we could bring him into the family; he might prove to be a valuable aide."
"Is that all you see?" Obiken questions, prompting Fabio to lower his head. "Apologies, Count, I must be dull-witted. That's all I noticed."
Obiken sighs, "Are you still resentful? You're my youngest son, without inheritance rights. You're naturally lazy and not particularly gifted, so I had to push you into this war. If you can earn so rit, I can maneuver to get you an official title."
After a mont of silence, Fabio asks, "What made you change your mind, Father, and entrust with so responsibilities?"
Obiken hesitates for a mont before speaking.
"After the Fire Eyes battle, I realized I could have lost you. It made wonder if I've been too harsh. So, I transferred you to the noble's private army for a safer position."
"Yet, under that young fellow's guidance, you still managed to earn rit. That's why I want to give you more opportunities to learn about different matters—better to be prepared."
Fabio responds, "Prepared? With my elder brother around, I can only establish my own path. What preparation do I need?"
Obiken doesn't say more and waves Fabio off, signaling that he may leave. Once Fabio is gone, a figure steps out from the shadows. "Sir, the boy showed no unusual behavior. He seed very excited to receive the items and kept checking and counting them."
Obiken asks, "You weren't discovered, were you?"
"Sir, I'm a professional. Although my rank isn't high, a re child couldn't possibly notice ."
Obiken chuckles, "Don't be so confident. Underestimating soone whom Kavize values highly, soone who faked his death to escape and still maintains good relations, is your biggest mistake."
The man doesn't argue further but changes the subject. "Sir, should I go protect young Master Fabio?"
"No need. His current position is just right—neither too high nor too low. It's not overly dangerous, yet it offers him enough challenges."
"But, sir, we can't let what happened to the eldest happen to the youngest," the man insists.
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