Madam Glenda Miscalculation!

Alfie froze, Harry's words hitting him like a slap. Yes, Reggie had been their brother too. And Harry had cut him down without a second thought.

What chance did Alfie have?

He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. "Reggie attacked you. He made his choice, and he paid the price. That was his punishment," Alfie said, his tone firm but tinged with desperation. "But this, this isn't the same, Harry. Neither this land nor this fight belongs to us. It belongs to Father."

Alfie's voice softened, pleading now. "This territory is his. It doesn't belong to me, and it doesn't belong to you. And when he returns, when he finds out what you've done here, what will he think? What will he 'do'?"

He stepped forward slightly, hoping to reach the part of Harry that still cared. "Stop this madness. Our quarrel, our disagreements; they don't matter. What matters is Father. Do you really think you can stand against him?"

Harry interrupted, his voice cutting like a blade. "Why not?"

The words were simple, yet they radiated confidence, a quiet but unshakable belief in his own strength. Alfie faltered, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity in Harry's tone.

To Alfie, Harry was still the upstart knight, fresh in his title and untested in battle. But Harry had changed in ways Alfie couldn't yet understand. His body, nourished by the mysterious source of life energy, brimmed with power. Though newly knighted, his strength rivaled that of seasoned warriors, perhaps even Baron Ethan himself.

Alfie's mouth opened, then closed, as if searching for the right words but finding none. A chilling thought crept into his mind, a thought that made his blood run cold.

Would Harry go as far as to kill their father too?

It seemed unthinkable. Yet Reggie's fate loomed large in Alfie's memory, and the idea didn't feel so far-fetched anymore.

Harry's voice pulled Alfie back to the present, his tone disturbingly calm. "You say that Madam Glenda and you are unimportant. That only Father's opinion matters." He paused, then added with a faint smile, "I don't agree."

Before Alfie could respond, the air cracked with a sharp metallic hiss. Harry's golden sword flashed out of its sheath, moving faster than Alfie's eyes could follow. The blade gleamed with life energy, its light almost blinding as it arced toward him.

Time seemed to slow. Alfie stood frozen, watching the sword's radiant trail as if in a trance. His instincts screamed at him to move, but it was too late. The energy-infused blade struck with terrifying precision, cutting through his armor like paper and leaving a deep wound across his chest.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground. Pain exploded through his body, sharp and overwhelming. He gasped for breath, his limbs too weak to even clutch his sword. Blood seeped through his armor, staining the earth beneath him.

Harry sheathed his sword, his expression indifferent as he glanced at his fallen brother. "Take him aside," he ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. "Make sure he doesn't die. I have no use for a corpse."body was dragged away, his vision blurring as soldiers hoisted him onto their shoulders. Harry turned to Maro, his trusted lieutenant, his voice carrying the weight of finality.

"Continue the attack," Harry commanded. "By nightfall, I want Madam Glenda's body in front of me."

Maro grinned, the bloodlust in his eyes unmistakable. "Yes, my lord." He barked orders to the soldiers, their guttural growls filling the air as they prepared for the next assault.

Inside the manor, the gates groaned shut, the defenders sensing that something had gone terribly wrong. But even behind the thick walls, there was no safety. The demi-human army pressed closer, their siege relentless. The defenses of the manor; already battered and fragile, were crumbling fast.

Alfie lay on the ground, clutching his wound as chaos erupted around him. His thoughts swirled with pain, regret, and a terrible realization. Harry wouldn't stop. Not until everything was ash.

The roar of the army grew louder as they launched their assault, their relentless siege shaking the very foundations of the manor. Inside, panic spread like wildfire as the defenses, already fragile, began to buckle under the pressure.

Madam Glenda paced anxiously in the dimly lit war room, her face pale. Her sharp eyes darted between the reports brought in by frantic messengers. The news was grim: the outer walls were breached, and the manor's defenders were overwhelmed.

"Al went out to negotiate!" she snapped, her voice trembling with equal parts fear and anger. "Why are they attacking? What happened?"

Her mind raced, trying to piece together the cause. The plan had been perfect, or so she thought. Alfie was supposed to poison Harry discreetly during the negotiations. If the demi-humans were attacking now, it could only mean one thing: Alfie had failed.

"Did Harry see through it?" she muttered to herself, pacing even faster. Her brow furrowed. 'Al is soft-hearted, did he hesitate? Did he make a mistake?' She shook her head, frustration rising. There was no time to unravel the details now. The demi-humans were here, and the manor was falling.

---

The defenders of the manor, a ragtag group of knight apprentices and poorly armed soldiers, were no match for the disciplined Harry's forces and their human allies. Harry had come prepared. Not only did he bring the strength of the demi-humans, but he also fielded knight apprentices; warriors who had once served Reggie. These fighters had been absorbed into Harry's forces after Reggie's downfall, their loyalty shaky at first.

But Harry had played his cards well. By bringing these former enemies to the battlefield, he gave them no chance to plot rebellion. Under his watchful eye, they had no choice but to fight and fight they did. Their ferocity was startling. Desperate to prove their loyalty to their new master, they tore into Madam Glenda's forces with unmatched zeal.

For the knight apprentices who had served Reggie, the battle was personal. Long-standing grudges against Madam Glenda's men ignited into vicious clashes. The manor defenders, already outnumbered and outmatched, were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer brutality of the assault.

---

Inside the manor, Madam Glenda tried to rally her remaining forces. Her voice, usually commanding, now carried a note of desperation. "Hold the gates! Reinforce the southern wall!" she shouted, her words falling on the ears of soldiers too demoralized to respond. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the halls as the main gate gave way.

A knight apprentice burst into the room, bloodied and panting. "Madam, the gate is lost! They're inside!"

Madam Glenda's heart sank. She grabbed a sword from the wall; ornamental, but sharp enough, and turned to face the inevitable.

---

Meanwhile, Harry stood calmly in the chaos, surveying the battlefield with cold calculation. His voice was steady as he addressed his men. "Find her," he ordered. "I want Lady Glenda's head. Anyone who delivers it will be granted the title of honorary knight and half a knight's territory."

The reward was immense, tantalizing enough to send his forces into a frenzy. In this world, becoming an honorary knight was a gateway to nobility, a dream worth dying for. The promise of land, even a smaller share, was more than most could ever hope to achieve. The demi-humans and human soldiers alike roared with renewed vigor, their bloodlust fueled by the prospect of glory.

---

The defenders crumbled. Within an hour, the manor's gates were thrown wide open, and Harry's forces flooded in like a torrent. The knight apprentices moved with ruthless efficiency, cutting down anyone who stood in their path. Blood stained the marble floors as they tore through the halls, their weapons glinting in the flickering torchlight.

Madam Glenda, clutching her sword, retreated deeper into the manor. She could hear the cries of her men as they fell one by one. Her mind raced, searching for a way out, a way to survive.

But escape seemed impossible. Harry's forces were everywhere, tearing through the manor like wolves on the hunt. They overturned furniture, smashed down doors, and searched every room with single-minded determination.

"Find her!" one of the knight apprentices bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls. "The one who kills her claims the reward!"

Madam Glenda clenched her jaw, her grip on the sword tightening. 'So this is how it ends,' she thought, a cold determination settling over her. She wouldn't go down without a fight.

But even as she steeled herself, the sound of footsteps grew closer, louder. The wolves had found their prey.

Madam Glenda stood amidst a chaotic jumble of trunks and bags, her face pale but resolute. From the moment Harry's attack began, she had known deep down that the manor would fall. The defenders were too few, and the demi-human army too overwhelming. Yet, despite her sharp instincts, she had made one critical mistake, her greed.

She couldn't bear to abandon the wealth she had spent years amassing. Gold coins, jewels, rare artifacts; all symbols of her power and success. Instead of fleeing immediately through the secret passage she had kept hidden for decades, she lingered, overseeing her servants as they frantically packed her treasures.

By the time the manor was breached, it was too late.