Princess's Struggle for Survival

Hearing the intense killing intent hidden in Astrid’s words, Grant, lying on the stretcher, felt his eyelids twitch. If Elise hadn’t merely severed his tendons, he would almost have thought he’d misheard.

This silver-haired, red-eyed, coldly beautiful Regent... could she really dare to kill him now...

In terms of status, Grant was a duke of the Kingdom of Velys, an exalted existence second only to one, above tens of thousands. In terms of strength, he was an early tier Arcanist Mage, standing at the pinnacle of the magical realm.

Those bottom-tier soldiers, knights, great knights, Sorcerers, even command-level Magnus, if they died, they died. At most it can be counted as unavoidable wartime losses, a price both sides can accept.

But if he died, the situation would undoubtedly escalate. The other nobles, seeing that even someone as powerful and noble as he was not spared by Astrid Calliste, would surely develop resistance, afraid they might become the second to die at her hands.

"Astrid... what do you mean by that..."

After thinking for a moment, Grant concluded Astrid was bluffing, laying groundwork for pressure, so she could squeeze more benefits out of him.

"What do I mean? Are we not speaking the same language?"

Astrid’s lips curled slightly. With a teasing gaze, she looked at Grant before her. Beneath the table, the pair of black-stockinged legs crossed elegantly; her rosy lips parted as she spoke.

"The Kingdom of Velys and the Valeria Empire both originated from the Lorraine Empire. Back then, Duke Grant led troops to invade Duke Charles’s territory, wasn’t it under the banner of ’reclaiming lost lands,’ holding high the flag of restoring the Lorraine Empire’s glory?"

"What, has the Human Common Tongue passed down from the Lorraine Empire to this day, shared by both nations, become something Duke Grant can’t understand now?"

As her voice fell, Astrid gave Elise a meaningful look. The mature, regal maid, dressed in a black-and-white maid outfit, drew the sword at her waist and slowly pressed it against the man’s calf.

Even through a layer of cloth, Grant could still feel the chill transmitted from the maid’s blade. That cold edge, like frost brushed across skin, mixed with the fiery pain at his wounds, forcing his mind to remain alert.

"You really dare kill me?"

Grant clenched his teeth, staring at Astrid with a gloomy gaze.

Hearing this, the woman’s red eyes narrowed slightly, and she answered calmly.

"Why wouldn’t I?"

"Could it be that Duke Grant’s neck is harder, so blades can’t cut it, and magic can’t burn it clean?"

As she spoke, Astrid lightly rested her hand against her chin. The black silk gloves trimmed with lace edging moved close to her smooth, slender swan neck, making the famous "Imperial Gem" complexion look even paler and more delicate, while also seeming to remind Grant that she truly intended to separate head from body, to see whether the blood of Velys nobility flowed any differently than that of ordinary people.

"..."

With no energy left to focus on the beauty before him, Grant stared into Astrid’s eyes. Those cold, shadowed red pupils watched him in silence, instilling a powerful sense of danger in the one being looked at.

Unable to tell what Astrid truly meant to do, a faint ominous premonition rose in Grant’s heart, especially when he recalled that just hours earlier, she had deliberately sent Lyra and this early tier Crusader at her side, someone not included in any known intelligence, to ambush him, cripple his mobility, and then clamp down on his mental power with magical shackles, not letting him form wings, nor recover his body.

To strike directly at an Arcanist Mage already spoke volumes. Astrid might not follow "common sense" the way he had imagined.

But one thing Grant understood clearly: if there truly were no room for negotiation, Astrid had no need to drag him here and waste so much breath on meaningless talk with a man doomed to die.

Killing him outright would be more efficient.

At the very least, this silver-haired regent wanted something from him.

Thinking this far, Grant let out a small breath, then spoke in a low voice.

"Then naturally not, otherwise I wouldn’t have been breached by this beautiful lady."

Long absent from the battlefield, his hands had grown rusty. If he’d been more vigilant earlier, perhaps he wouldn’t be so miserable now.

"But if Your Highness the Regent truly wants to kill me, there doesn’t seem to be any need to say so much."

Astrid still smiled at his words, but her gaze sharpened.

"Duke Grant is a clever man. You missed one chance before, this time you look very eager to seize it."

The missed chance, of course, referred to that surrender letter. Yet even now, even with Grant reduced to a prisoner, if he could carry his memories back and redo it, he still wouldn’t agree so easily.

Disarm all forces within his domain, bind his own hands and surrender to the Valeria Empire, neither noble honor nor reason in his mind would allow him to do that.

"I do have some matters," Astrid continued softly, "that require Duke Grant’s assistance."

As her words fell, Astrid tapped the tabletop slightly. A map manifested from her spatial glove and, carried by wind-element magic, floated before Grant.

"The border has fallen. Coldwind City, Kaelrent City, and the vast southern territories have all been taken by the Imperial Expeditionary Force. Nearly half of Duke Grant’s lands are now under my control."

"As for the remaining half, there are no towering, thick walls, and no elite troops. Sooner or later it will be swallowed by the Empire as well."

"If Duke Grant wants to perform well, he might consider doing something for the Valeria Empire, if only as a token of allegiance for the future."

In truth, taking these regions by force would take a long time. Especially during the days of sealing Coldwind City, Astrid had obtained intelligence Grant didn’t know. To grind through cities one by one would not only consume time but also bleed manpower.

If possible, it would have been best to make use of Grant. After all, nominally he was still the titular lord of these lands.

Hearing Astrid’s words, Grant roughly grasped her intent.

She kept pressing the expeditionary force’s overwhelming strength for one reason: to tell him it was already unrealistic to keep his domain.

With him captured by enemy forces, his life and death uncertain, even if the Valeria Empire did nothing next, those vacant lands would most likely be annexed by neighboring nobles.

The Kingdom of Velys was in chaos; the royal family led by the king had lost real control. When the king loses his deer, the lords chase it, nothing more usual.

Saying all this now was simply to make him write letters, ordering his confidants in those cities not to resist, to open the gates to Valeria troops.

"Your Highness Astrid has quite the appetite, trying to take all my territory without shedding blood."

"I did offer Duke Grant a gentle way to resolve our differences."

Astrid propped her cheek with one hand, her voice icy.

"And besides, it’s not ’without shedding blood,’ Duke Grant."

"At least you still have plenty of blood left to shed."

A mere letter, if she wanted it, there were countless ways to get it. Astrid never believed Grant’s mouth could be that hard.

A pampered kingdom noble, apply a little torture and it would be enough. By then, the robust physique granted by an early tier Crusader would instead become a burden; under constant healing magic, pain will only be prolonged.

On one side of the scale lay generations of accumulated glory; on the other lay his own life. Grant fell silent for a long time, giving no immediate answer.

If the scale truly held only those two things, he would most likely choose the latter. Only by living did the future exist, only then there would be a chance to rise again.

The only question was: did Astrid really dare to kill him?

Seeing Grant refuse to respond, Astrid slowly uncrossed her legs and switched sides. Her left leg, wrapped in sleek black stockings, rested atop her right knee; her black heel strikes the stone tiles with a sharp, grating sound.

"It seems Duke Grant still doesn’t quite understand his situation."

"Do you remember that letter? I gave you until that evening to reply."

What happened afterward, both sides knew well. That very night Astrid launched a surprise assault on the border, catching Duke Grant completely off guard, he who had been in bed, lingering in warmth with a maid.

"The time now isn’t so generous. I can only give you five minutes. Duke Grant should think carefully."

....................

"It seems Duke Grant does know what’s good for him."

Staring at the somewhat sloppy handwriting on the parchment, Astrid read it line by line. After confirming Grant hadn’t played any tricks, she gave Elise another look.

Catching the silent exchange between mistress and servant, Grant clenched his teeth, already knowing what was coming, and said in a low voice.

"No need to trouble her."

As soon as he finished, two crisp cracks sounded. Under the control of mental power, the first few fingers on both of Grant’s hands were snapped.

With pain-numbing magic in effect, Grant only sucked in a quiet breath of cold air. He quickly buried the hatred in his eyes, forced his expression into endurance, and did not look up at Astrid again.

Damn bitch... she’d better pray she never falls into his hands...

Otherwise he would definitely make her understand what it meant to beg for life and be denied, beg for death and be denied.

On the other side, Astrid handed the letter to Lyra for safekeeping, then lowered her gaze to Grant not far away.

Although he controlled his expression and movements well, the hatred almost solid enough to touch was impossible to ignore. Knowing he still fantasized about rising again one day, Astrid spoke slowly.

"By the way, Duke Grant isn’t curious why we chose to attack Coldwind City today?"

The Valeria Empire had previously sealed the gates. Those inside couldn’t leave; those outside couldn’t enter. But that didn’t mean there was no exchange of information between the two armies.

Leaving aside the surrender letters Lyra had fired into the city according to military orders, merely standing on the high slope east of Coldwind City gave the Valeria expeditionary force a clear view into the city.

Astrid must have known long ago that the residents were short on grain. If she waited half a week more, severe internal conflict would erupt. At that point, the expeditionary force will take the city with far less effort for far greater gain.

When Grant still didn’t speak, Astrid rose and walked closer, letting her smooth silver hair spill down, the hem of her skirt veiling her sleek thighs as she approached with a faint, lingering fragrance.

"Just as Duke Grant guessed, the king has indeed abandoned you. But the pope has not. The Church’s Knight Order has already moved. According to the intelligence network built by the expeditionary force, several squads of fully armed Holy Light Knights are rushing toward Coldwind City."

"If we didn’t move now, once the Holy Light Knights join the fight, variables might truly appear."

The Church’s elite knights were far superior in overall quality to the private troops Grant had recruited.

Even if the imperial army was fully equipped, without favorable terrain, encountering them in the open would mean far more losses than wins.

Mana-powered machinery was powerful, but not enough to bridge an absolute gap in combat strength. A single sword from a Grand Knight, coated in razor-sharp mental power, could easily sever several mana-powered muskets refined by master craftsmen; even blast shields were, to them, merely slightly harder metal.

Smiling as she rendered judgment, Astrid stood with arms crossed. Her index finger gently pressed against her lips, the upward curve at both corners of her mouth not concealed in the slightest.

"What a pity, just one or two days more, and Duke Grant could have held out until the reinforcements you longed for day and night."

Now that Coldwind City had fallen, its eastern wall breached by the vanguard and its commander captured, causing morale to collapse and the defenders to surrender, the Valeria expeditionary force could simply take over the defensive installations Grant had painstakingly arranged, patch them up a little, and point them toward the incoming Church Knight Order.

Hearing Astrid’s words that killed without spilling blood, Grant’s anger, once suppressed, burst free at last, his expression twisting, eyes nearly splitting.

Watching the man’s eyes redden to the point of tearing, Astrid drew closer, her crimson eyes smiling, her voice soft and low.

"Oh, right, there’s one more thing...."

"After some time, I may need to borrow something else from Duke Grant."

In his vision was the flawless, exquisite face of the Imperial Gem. Those cold red pupils seemed to mock him, yet also carried a trace of pity for the soon-to-die. Grant’s throat went dry; he forced out the words with all his strength.

"You..."

What else did she want to borrow?

At this moment, Grant did not realize this might be the last time he would consciously observe the world. Before he could finish, the head maid behind him brought a bottle of unknown potion to his mouth and, using mental power, forced it down his throat.

Watching Grant’s neck pinned under a sword as he struggled to swallow the potion, Astrid spoke gently.

"Of course, Duke Grant’s head."

Since he was going to die anyway, he might as well provide a little residual heat, say, when the army’s dissatisfaction can’t be suppressed, she could throw it out for use.

"Come to think of it, the token of allegiance Duke Grant offered is quite worth it."

"To sleep in a muddle for a while, then die in your sleep, surely that’s better than being tortured in a lightless prison, losing a noble face in a wretched spectacle before everyone, and then dying. Isn’t it?"

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