The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 223

The morning sun stretched over the horizon, casting golden light across the dirt path winding through the quiet hills.

The group had left early, moving in formation with disciplined steps. Dust kicked up from the hooves of dozens of horses as the sound of marching armor clanked with every steady movement.

Carriages rolled at the rear, pulled by well-kept horses, and handled by silent servants. Knights rode in rows, their polished armor gleaming, while banners fluttered slightly in the breeze. The atmosphere was quiet but alert, each man carrying a stern look and a hand close to their weapon.

Kael rode near the middle, his expression still thoughtful. During their stop, he had learned something shocking—many royal guards on a past mission to the West had been killed. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

Their Royal Tokens had been stolen and then sold on the black market. Worse, the tokens were now being used by bandits who dressed up like guards, looting villages, killing innocents, and even pretending to have royal authority. Some bold ones had started speaking about the revolt.

At first, Kael thought it was a joke. A stupid, wild rumor without credibility.

Bandits were dumb, sure, but they didn't have that much balls to impersonate Royal knights, did they?

After all their principle was to bully the weak and fear the strong.

Yet he was wrong. These ones had guts. They didn't have the strength to conquer kingdoms, but they sure had the nerve to act like they did.

During his times, with the demons ravaging lands earlier, most of the normal troublemakers had died or gone into hiding. The ones who stayed had taken part in a war for survival. That made them harder, crueler, and strangely…braver.

"What are you thinking?" a voice broke his train of thought.

Kael blinked and turned his head to see Sol riding next to him. The man's brown hair bounced slightly with the horse's steps. Kael glanced around. Behind them, rows of knights rode with straight backs. Ahead of them, in full armor and pride, Martina led from the front her red cape flowing slightly in the wind.

"Huh... This is the first time I've seen servants riding in the carriages and the noble in charge leading the front," Kael said, lifting a brow slightly.

Sol grinned wide and rubbed his nose like a kid proud of his toys. "Hehehe. My Lady is different from the rest. She's not like that hypocrite."

"That's good…" Kael nodded, his voice low as his eyes went ahead again. He wanted to send word to the Grand Duke's estate. Too much time had passed. His silence would bring trouble. Maybe even someone trying to kill him. But he was ready. Honestly, Kael didn't like hiding. If not for the bounty on his head, he wouldn't be in disguise at all. He hadn't told the Princess because this might be troublesome.

He didn't want to work with the Royals.

But the thing forced him to do it.

Nevan was quite important. He had evidence. Proof of the collaboration between the Prince and enemy territory.

He had to see it himself. Being with strong people was better than going alone. But if he told the truth now, they might not take him along. They might leave him behind.

With that thought, Kael looked to Sol and asked calmly, "Are you the strongest here?"

Sol's eyes lit up with a spark, like he was waiting for someone to ask that. "Of course not," he said, shaking his head and giving a smug smile.

"There are others stronger than me, sure… but talent?" Sol puffed his chest out and sat taller on his horse. "In terms of talent, I'm the best. I've got the fastest sword, the sharpest eye, and my instincts are flawless. I can take down a man with a single strike—blindfolded. People say I was born with a gift, and I believe it. Even the knights back home were jealous of my progress. I've even been praised by the old generals."

Kael's brow twitched slightly, and a small sigh escaped his lips. He stared ahead again and muttered under his breath, "I didn't feel it, but this guy is a braggart."

The morning fog hadn't lifted completely when the sharp, low growls echoed from the nearby woods. Birds scattered into the sky as several dark figures darted out from the trees—low to the ground, snarling, their eyes glowing with bloodlust. Their twisted forms were covered in dark scales, and their claws dug into the earth as they charged at the convoy without hesitation.

Before Martina could even draw her blade, a flash of sword light blazed through the air.

Shhhhk!

A beam of pure energy sliced across the path like a silver wave, and the monsters were torn apart mid-leap. Their pieces crashed against the ground with dull thuds, smoke rising from their bisected bodies. The suddenness of it left the air still, heavy with silence.

Kael's eyes narrowed sharply. He turned his gaze toward the side, where a group of fully-armoured knights stood. One of them held his sword half-raised, its edge humming faintly with residual energy. The knight met Kael's glance for only a second before calmly retreating back into the formation like nothing had happened.

Kael raised his brows. 'That wasn't ordinary swordsmanship… that was something else,' he thought. That beam wasn't from skill alone. It needed insane training… or bloodline strength. Or worse, a technique sealed by the Imperial family.

His caution sharpened.

'There are many hidden dragons here…'

That thought made his gut twist. If there were people like that in this group, then what was the point of bringing him?

He glanced at Martina up front. She hadn't reacted. Didn't even draw her sword. Did she already know someone else would act? Or did she just not care?

Kael's fingers curled tighter on his reins as a faint sense of unease crept into his chest. For the first time since accepting this trip, he began to wonder if he had made a mistake.

A certain deja vu welled up in his heart.

It didn't seem like he was needed here. And he too was reluctant a bit but wondering about the moment he met Martina, he wondered if he was allowed to leave that place without agreeing with her.

Thinking this, he looked ahead.

Royal who appeared good was the vilest of vilest underneath.

'I wish I hadn't met them… but it's too late now.'