The Real Show Is Just Beginning

Watching Esdeath's tall figure gradually fade into the distance, Kaguya couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn't that she was afraid of Esdeath; it was just that whenever she saw Esdeath's enigmatic smile, Kaguya felt a chill run down her spine.

What on earth was going on?

Kaguya felt puzzled. Did Esdeath have some sort of scheme?

Kaguya trusted her intuition and foresight, which had proven accurate many times, prompting her to be vigilant.

But she didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts. Scouts reported that the northern tribe's massive army had already passed through the forest ahead and was advancing toward them, with an estimated strength of nearly two hundred thousand troops.

The Imperial Army, which had originally been stationed at the border with a strength of one hundred thousand, surrendered without a fight and fled in panic. Some even withdrew from the defensive line before the northern tribes were in sight.

This was partly due to the cowardice of the border Imperial Army and partly due to secret instructions from Minister Honest. Desertion was a severe offense, punishable by execution if discovered.

Now the northern tribes had breached the defenses and were sweeping toward Kaguya's territory. As of today, the northern tribes were only twenty miles away, and the faint rumbling of their approach could be heard.

The night gradually receded, with the distant horizon beginning to lighten. The clouds slowly brightened. Finally, a gentle light appeared on the horizon, slicing through the night sky and dispelling the darkness.

The soft, warm sunlight bathed the desolate land, bringing a hint of warmth.

The silver-haired girl, bathed in the dawn light, her clothes and hair fluttering, seemed to be infused with a gentle glow. Her clear eyes gazed into the distance, and she lowered her head with a slight smile, murmuring, "They're finally coming."

Meanwhile, on the distant horizon, the silhouettes of the northern tribe soldiers, like a black tide, surged forward.

"Your Highness," said a scar-faced man in armor, kneeling respectfully, "a small group of Imperial troops has been spotted about ten miles ahead."

Before him stood a young and valiant prince, with jade-like skin and striking features, tall and handsome. He was Prince Numa Seika, the heir to the northern tribes' throne.

The northern tribes' king was advanced in age and increasingly unable to manage state affairs, leaving Prince Seika to handle most of the governance. His influence was strong among the tribes, commanding great respect. Not only was he undefeated in battle, but he also possessed formidable military strategy and enjoyed widespread support, posing a significant threat to the Empire.

"How many men, General Hank?" Prince Seika asked, his demeanor steady beyond his years, revealing a precociously mature young man.

"Your Highness," replied General Hank, "their exact numbers are unclear due to their concealment in the forest, but it appears they number fewer than a thousand."

"A mere thousand troops, and you bother reporting this to me?" Prince Seika's expression showed slight displeasure as he tapped his armrest lightly with his fingers.

"Although they number only a thousand, our scouts report they are tall, well-armed, and move with powerful precision, suggesting they are not ordinary soldiers. Their equipment is exceptionally fine, befitting the Empire's elite troops," General Hank explained with a bow.

"Oh?" Prince Seika rested his chin on his hand, pondering. After a moment, he smiled slightly. "If my guess is correct, we've caught a big fish."

"You mean?" General Hank's chiseled features registered surprise.

"Yes, if I'm correct," said Prince Seika, a glint of insight flashing in his eyes, "these are the Imperial Princess's guards, which means the Imperial Princess is among them."

This southern campaign had not been in vain. If this were true, they had indeed caught a big fish.

The prince of the northern tribes smiled faintly, his expression inscrutable.

Blare

The mournful, distant sound of a horn echoed like rolling thunder across the clouds.

A large force appeared over the horizon, resembling a swarming mass of ants, a black mass stretching endlessly. Banners obscured the sun, and the drums and horns sounded as the northern tribes' army advanced in a vast wave. Their disciplined strides exuded a sense of martial ferocity.

"Your Highness," a guard rushed over amidst the clamor, kneeling and reporting, "the northern tribes' army has discovered us and is advancing toward our position."

"Pass the order, prepare for battle, and be ready at all times," Kaguya said, her gaze fixed on the approaching northern army in the distance.

"Your Highness," the guard exclaimed in alarm, "the northern tribes are only twenty kilometers away. They've spotted us, and a detachment is moving to encircle us from the rear. If we don't retreat now, we might be surrounded."

"Are you afraid?" Kaguya turned, her beautiful face showing a faint smile.

The guard paused, entranced by the princess's smile, then quickly regained his senses, urgently saying, "Your Highness, I am not afraid to die. At your command, I will sacrifice myself. But please, consider your safety. If we delay, it may be too late. Please withdraw; we will cover your retreat. There's still time."

The guard's heart was anxious, seeing the imminent threat of the northern tribes while the princess remained unfazed. If he weren't no match for the princess, he would have forcibly taken her to safety.

Moved by her loyal guard's earnestness, Kaguya felt a pang of emotion. She smiled slightly, turning to gaze at the horizon.

"The show is just beginning."