Chapter 499 – Unexpected Help.

The crowd was stunned into silence. Gerhard, once the proud and indomitable knight commander, now lay crumpled in the stands like a broken marionette, impaled by the mysterious spear. His spirit blade had long since fizzled out, and the orange glow that had once radiated from him like an aura of invincibility was nothing more than a memory.

Roland stood right next to the crash site, having witnessed the entire incident. His brother had nearly gotten himself killed after succumbing to something called blood crystal-induced madness. Though Gerhard had shown no initial side effects, it seemed that after suffering a crushing defeat and a severe injury, his mind had finally snapped. Just as he was about to deliver the killing blow, a spear was thrown.

The same spear collided with the magical barrier, a shield designed to withstand tier-3 strikes. Roland had managed to create a large hole on his side, but on the other side, where the spear came from, the barrier remained at full strength. Yet, the silvery mithril spear pierced through it with almost no resistance. The projectile struck Gerhard, sending him flying into the stands, where he now lay motionless, a giant pole protruding from his chest.

Roland’s gaze shifted from Gerhard’s broken body to the arena’s entrance. There, a towering figure clad in gleaming silver armor strode forward with authority and confidence. The wolf emblem on his chest plate gleamed under the sunlight, and his armor shimmered with brilliance, unlike anything the audience had ever seen. His steps were slow, deliberate, and the powerful aura surrounding him was undeniable.

“That armor, that wolf emblem… Did that bastard actually come?”

Roland’s heart began to pound as he recognized the man. There was no mistaking it—his father, Wentworth Arden, had arrived. For over ten years, Roland had managed to avoid him, hoping this day would never come. But here he was, wearing the fabled armor of the ‘Silver Wolf,’ a legend within the Kingdom’s military.

The arena fell into an even deeper silence as Wentworth Arden made his entrance, each step sending ripples of authority through the space. The barrier within the arena began to fizzle out as he moved through the stands. People started whispering, some recognizing the eye-catching armor he was famous for. Others glanced not at him, but at the figures behind him – heavily armored knights, all bearing the symbol of the crown.

The symbol of Caldris was also displayed on the silver wolf’s armor, indicating that all of them were dressed in their military uniforms. Each of these men, knights or nobility of some rank, would typically bear their own personal crests and symbols. Yet, they all wore the markings of the royal family, suggesting they were part of an official unit, possibly one returning from a border skirmish.

The royal crest of the Kingdom of Caldris features a fearsome golden dragon, its wings unfurled and flames curling from its open maw, symbolizing strength. The dragon stood proudly in front of a shield with its tail coiled protectively around a golden sword that ran vertically through the center. Flanking the dragon were two roaring griffins, their talons gripping the edges of the shield. Above the shield rested a regal crown encrusted with rubies and sapphires, signifying the royal lineage. Encircling the crest was a bouquet of golden oak leaves, intertwined with silvery thorns.

Roland’s mind raced as he realized his father hadn’t arrived alone. It was clear Wentworth had come with his own men, a contingent of knights now starting to file into the arena. Roland had anticipated some trouble, but due to the high concentration of mages at this event, he had been forced to pull back most of his golems, leaving only a few hidden in fringe areas of the estate, to be used once the duel was over. Somehow, though, his father had managed to arrive undetected, with reinforcements in tow.

“That armor… it’s blocking my sensors. Is it generating some kind of magical jamming field?”

There had been some new dots appearing on the screen from some further away monitoring devices, but he was too focused on the duel to pay attention. Even with reduced external monitoring, Roland should have noticed more of them approaching. His system didn’t warn him about a large increase in tier 3 activity, which might have something to do with his father’s armor.

This only confirmed that the magical technology they were using was beyond anything he had encountered before. It also meant that there were ways that could go around his runes which would need to be addressed in the future. However, now wasn’t the time for analysis. If he tried to investigate further, he was certain his father or one of the tier-3 knights in his entourage would notice.

Gerhard’s lifeless body, impaled by the spear, still lay in a grotesque heap near the stands, but even that gruesome sight was overshadowed by the towering man advancing toward the balcony with Count Graham and Laurence. From the other side knights started pouring in, it seemed that even Graham was unaware of the arrival of his father, making it even more obvious that he had some sort of concealment device.

“What is the meaning of this? Who are you?”

Graham shouted as he rose from his seat, and the Grand Commander of his knights, Leopold, stepped forward to protect his master. Roland’s heart raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. Judging by the spear throw, it seemed he was here to rescue Robert to some degree, yet he hadn’t informed his sister or stepmother of his presence. The men accompanying him quickly moved to surround the area, taking control of the situation. It was clear they were not passive observers but were ready, if necessary, to confront Count Graham’s soldiers. The crowd, which had been roaring with excitement over Robert’s victory moments before, fell silent, holding its collective breath in anticipation of what might unfold.

“What is the meaning of this?! Who are you to interrupt my event?!”

Graham’s voice, filled with false bravado, boomed through the arena as he asked the approaching man about his identity again. Wentworth, however, remained unfazed. His icy blue eyes scanned the battlefield below, lingering for a moment on Gerhard’s lifeless form before moving to his son, Robert, who was in the process of removing the helmet from his armor. The suit was devoid of magical energy but his tier 2 strength was enough to still be able to move around in it. Graham’s face contorted into a mixture of frustration as he noticed the man ignoring his calls as if he were the one in power here.

“My lord, this is Wentworth Arden… we must tread carefully.”

Before Graham could continue with the question, Leopold stepped in. Thanks to Roland’s enhanced hearing and the help of his suit he could hear the whispers between the two.

“He commands a regiment in the royal army, his rank a Grand Knight Commander…”

“It’s Marshal now, Leopold. Maybe if you didn’t choose to leave the royal army… you might have reached this position as well and not stagnated here… a shame.”

While listening, Roland learned new details about his father’s achievements. He knew that strength didn’t always dictate rank, and some nobles despised his father for his strong reputation. When he left the Arden estate, Wentwort had held the rank of Grand Knight Commander—a position that granted him command over a regiment of up to five thousand soldiers.

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The rank of Grand Knight Commander was the highest a knight could achieve in their lifetime, a pinnacle of success, but still not the top of the hierarchy. Upon receiving a noble title, a knight could rise higher, attaining the rank of Marshal. A Marshal commanded a division of three regiments, or about fifteen thousand soldiers. Beyond that were the positions of High Marshal and Grand Marshal, ranks that required the bearer to be at least a viscount.

“Oh dear, this doesn’t look good at all.”

“No, it does not… but I think he’s on our side, at least for now. Let’s just wait and watch. I doubt they’ll escalate it much further.”

As Roland eavesdropped on the nobles, his friend Arion finally made his presence known. The small black feline had been hiding in the stands, pretending to be nothing more than a pet. Roland knew that Graham wouldn’t allow another Tier 3 mage to oversee the duel, so they had agreed to keep Arion’s true identity concealed as he still wanted to witness the prototype in action. Now that the duel was over, there was no longer any need for him to remain hidden.

“Marshal… no Baron Arden, don’t you think that you’ve gone too far, what gives you the right to come to my house, uninvited and unannounced, baron? Are those soldiers of yours supposed to intimidate me? “

People began to slowly back away as the two nobles continued their conversation, sensing that a battle could erupt at any moment. Wentworth was pushing his luck by secretly bringing a large number of his own soldiers into another noble’s territory – an act that could easily be interpreted as a declaration of war, something permissible among nobility.

The crown allowed nobles to settle disputes through battle, even to the point of seizing each other’s lands and titles if they had a justifiable cause. The kingdom operated under a feudal system, with nobles serving as feudal lords and the king as their only superior. While they were obligated to answer the crown’s call and mobilize during times of need, most of the time, they were left to govern their lands independently.