The Enemy at the Gate!

"Why not just find an opportunity to strike, rush into Reggie's residence, and end him?" Madam Glenda thought, her mind whirring with possibilities. 'Kill Alfie too, and with Reggie gone, it would be over. Baron Ethan would have no choice but to accept Harry as the heir. After all, who else would claim the title?'

But, no. Harry hadn't acted like that. He hadn't taken the opportunity to eliminate Alfie, even when he had the chance. Instead, he let him go. The hesitation, the mercy; it all pointed to a flaw in his character.

A flaw that Madam Glenda could exploit.

'It's not too late. I just need to wait for the right moment.'

Her sharp mind quickly turned to strategy. The power dynamics had shifted drastically with Reggie's death, and now Harry stood poised to take over. But if she could take advantage of his weakness, his 'mercy' there might still be a chance to regain control.

She rose from her seat, her thoughts narrowing into a single focus. Harry had grown powerful, but the power of a knight wasn't everything. He still had vulnerabilities. She'd seen enough of him now to know that his mercy would be his undoing. The trick was to find a way to use it against him.

"Send for my most trusted guard," she ordered. Her voice was calm, but her eyes glittered with a dangerous light. "I need answers."

Moments later, her loyal guard entered the room. He bowed low and stood at attention.

"Does Harry have anyone close to him here in the manor?" Madam Glenda asked, her voice steady but with an edge of urgency.

The guard hesitated only for a moment before he nodded. "I'll find out right away, Madam."

A short while later, the guard returned with troubling news. He stepped forward, his expression grave.

"There's not much left, Madam," he reported, his voice tinged with frustration. "Before Harry left the manor, he made sure to remove anyone who could be considered his ally. There's no one here who is still loyal to him."

Madam Glenda's expression darkened. "No one? Not even a single person?"

The guard shook his head. "No, Madam. He'd already relocated those he trusted long ago."

Madam Glenda's face turned pale. This was not the outcome she had expected. 'Harry has been preparing for something.' The realization struck her like a blow. She had thought she could use his relationships as leverage, but he had already removed any potential leverage. All that remained was Alfie, who was now, strangely, the closest person to Harry in the entire manor.

"Of course, he planned this," Madam Glenda murmured bitterly. "I should have seen it sooner. He knew exactly what I was up to. He saw through my schemes long before they could take root."

The guard, sensing her frustration, stood silently, waiting for her next move. But Madam Glenda was already deep in thought, her mind working furiously to adjust her plans. Harry's foresight had spoiled her initial approach.

'No matter,' she thought, eyes narrowing. 'I still have options.'

She quickly adjusted her strategy. If she couldn't use Harry's allies to her advantage, perhaps she could leverage the influence of her family; an influential noble house with more than its share of knights and warriors.

"Send a letter to my brother," she ordered, her voice calm again. "Tell him I need his help. His nephew and I are in a dangerous situation, and we require his assistance. The time has come for him to honor his family's debts."

Madam Glenda knew that her brother's knights could tip the scales in her favor. Her family's connections and power were far greater than Harry's. If she could bring in reinforcements, she could at least push Harry back or better yet; take control for herself.

She had played this card before. In the past, when all else failed, her family had come through for her.

But just as she thought she might have a plan, a servant rushed in, clearly panicked, his face a mask of fear.

"Ma'am! Something's happened outside! Please, you need to listen!"

Madam Glenda's patience began to thin. "What is it? Speak clearly!" she snapped, her irritation growing.

The servant took a shaky breath, clearly struggling to collect himself. "It's... Harry, Ma'am. He... he's surrounded the manor. There's an army outside, 'they've surrounded us.'"

Madam Glenda froze for a moment, the words taking a second to sink in. "What? Surrounded us? That's impossible! He just killed Reggie. His men should be busy taking over Reggie's forces, not—" She stopped, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where would he get the men to besiege the manor? His forces are still scattered. He can't have gathered enough strength already!"

The servant lowered his voice, his eyes flicking nervously as if afraid to say the words. "Those aren't just men, Ma'am. They're 'Demi-humans'."

'Demi-humans?' Madam Glenda's blood ran cold at the word.

The room fell deathly silent. Madam Glenda's mind raced, disbelief and confusion wracking her brain.

"Demi-humans?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the word aloud could make it less real. "You mean... the creatures from the northern wastes? The wild beasts?"

The servant nodded, his expression grim. "Yes, Ma'am. Demi-humans. A whole band of them. And they've surrounded the manor, inside and out."

The shock was too much to process. Madam Glenda could barely register the words.

"Impossible," she murmured. "This... this can't be happening. Demi-humans?" She laughed bitterly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "What kind of trick is this?"

The guard standing beside her muttered something about the Demi-humans' strength and speed, but Madam Glenda barely heard him. The implications of what the servant had just told her were staggering.

Harry, a mere boy from the Cecil family, had somehow secured the loyalty of Demi-humans; creatures that were notorious for being uncontrollable, savage beasts. He had managed to forge an alliance with the most brutal and feared of all creatures.

Madam Glenda had underestimated him. She had underestimated his ruthlessness, his cunning. She had thought him soft. She had thought his youth and hesitation were his downfall.

But now, staring at the reality of the situation, she realized she had been wrong. Harry was far more dangerous than she had imagined.

And as the sound of war drums echoed from outside the manor, a cold realization settled in: 'It's too late to stop him now.'

Outside Ethan's manor, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the land. Harry sat atop his horse, his gaze fixed on the distant, familiar silhouette of the manor that had once been his home. His expression was calm, but there was a glimmer of emotion in his eyes as he surveyed the grounds.

"It doesn't feel like it's been that long," he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost wistful.

Maro, his loyal demi-human lieutenant, was riding beside him. He gave a slight, surprised grunt at Harry's words. "Master, didn't you just come here only half a month ago?"

The last time Harry had visited Ethan Manor was when Madam Glenda had summoned him for that fateful meeting. It seemed like such a short time ago, and yet, so much had changed since then.

Harry smiled faintly but didn't offer an immediate response.

For Maro and the others, half a month might have felt like little more than a brief span of time, but for Harry, it had been a lifetime. The experiences of the other world, while not as long as his time here, had shaped him deeply. Those few months had changed him in ways no one, not even Maro, could understand.

"No matter how long it's been," Harry said softly, "our positions are different now."

Maro raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Master?"

Harry's eyes lingered on the manor before them, his voice steady but filled with purpose. "Last time, I came as a guest, a visitor. But this time... I walk in as the master. This is my home now. The inheritance... the power... it all belongs to me."

He turned his gaze to Maro, his tone firm. "Maro, can you help me make that a reality?"

Maro's face split into a wide, almost ferocious grin. His yellow tusks gleamed in the fading light, and his eyes gleamed with a predatory gleam. "Master, I will do more than help. I'll make sure this place is yours; whether I lose my life or not."

The beastman's loyalty was unwavering, his promise clear. "Before the sun sets, Ethan Manor will belong to you."

Maro's words were bold, almost reckless, but in truth, they reflected the reality of the situation. While Ethan's forces had once been formidable, most of the strength had been sent with Baron Ethan on his campaign. Of the remaining soldiers in the manor, many were loyal to Reggie, and with his death, their loyalty had swiftly transferred to Harry.

The rest? Knight apprentices and a few scattered guards who weren't much of a threat to the seasoned warriors under Maro's command.

Over the past few weeks, Maro had gathered more Demi-humans from the surrounding tribes, recruiting and training them in preparation for this very moment. With weapons in hand and enough food to sustain them, the Demi-humans were a fearsome force, every warrior an elite fighter, stronger and more durable than most human soldiers. Even the best knights would think twice before facing them.

In contrast, the soldiers inside the manor were far less prepared. The manor's defenses were weak, and the few remaining knights were no match for the Demi-humans' brute strength.

Maro was confident that they could take the manor before the night even fell.

"Very good," Harry said, his tone pleased. "Go ahead, Maro. Let's make this quick."

Maro gave a mighty roar, rallying his warriors as they prepared to charge toward the manor's gates. The Demi-humans' massive forms rumbled as they advanced, muscles rippling beneath their rough hides, their weapons gleaming in the dimming light.

But just as they were about to strike, something unexpected happened.

From the gates of the manor, a low, grinding sound echoed as the massive doors began to creak open. Figures emerged slowly, shrouded in shadow. They moved cautiously, and as they came into view, one of them raised a hand in an attempt to halt the oncoming charge.