Under the Oak Tree Chapter 317: Chapter 78

Chapter 317: Chapter 78

Richard Breston’s large, piercing eyes scanned the crowd of soldiers. He haughtily passed his helmet to the knight mounted behind him and hopped off his warhorse.
Maxi tugged her hood lower as he walked up to Sejuleu Aren. The man held a deep animosity toward Riftan, and the last thing she wanted was to start an altercation by catching his eye. She furtively began gathering her tools.
“They’re all so big,” said Anette, her voice tinged with fear. “They certainly give that carrot-haired knight a run for his money. I don’t think I will ever be able to call you a giant again.” “Th-They say… the people of the north are descended from seraphim. A messenger of heaven… sired a child with a human woman a long time ago… and the Baltonians are supposedly that child’s descendants.” “They look more half-ogre to me. They’re practically giants.”
Maxi sneaked a glance at the Baltonian men. Indeed, the Knights of Phil Aaron looked nothing like the heralds of God. Wolf pelts covered their reddish-black armor, and their backs bristled with heavy swords, battle axes, and iron maces. They appeared closer to ancient barbarian warriors than knights.
Her face clouded as she recalled how belligerent these men had been in the past. What would happen to the unity of the coalition army now that they had joined?
“There you are, my lady.”
Maxi looked over her shoulder at the familiar voice.
Ulyseon strode toward her, his long legs making quick work of the distance. I le regarded her with concern as he approached.
“I rushed to find you as soon as 1 saw the Phil Aaron banner. 1 was worried those northern pigs would try to harass you again.” “I-I was just about to leave. 1 would rather… steer clear of them if possible.” “Of course, my lady. Allow me to carry those for you,” he said, taking the drake bone from her hands.
Maxi searched the training grounds. “Do you know where Riftan—” “Well, well, look who we have here,” came a gruff voice. “If it isn’t the white lizard’s pup.”
Flinching, Maxi looked behind her. Richard Breston, who had been talking with Sejuleu Aren by the gate moments ago, was now swaggering toward them. He was likely coming to pick a fight after recognizing the Remdragon armor. He halted in front of them, his intimidating gaze settling on Ulyseon.
“Or shall I call you the mad dog now? You’ve become quite notorious. But what else could one expect from Sir Rovar’s progeny?” “You should refrain from starting unwelcome conversation,” Ulyseon said coldly, sending shivers down Maxi’s spine. “It is no hobby of mine to exchange words with beasts.” “Bahaha! Still have that temper, I see.” The man’s hulking body shook as he burst into laughter. “Didn’t your master teach you not to bark whenever you like?” “No, but he did teach me how to silence a man who likes to run his mouth.”
Ulyseon’s purple eyes glinted as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
Leaning down, Breston’s smile spread into a wide grin. His voice dropped dangerously low. “I’m curious. What did he teach you, little Rovar?”
Maxi nervously glanced back and forth at their faces. A moment later, Sejuleu Aren placed himself between the two men and gripped Breston’s shoulder.
“Look here, Breston. You only just got here. Are you that desperate for trouble?”
The Baltonian knight shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re overreacting. 1 was simply glad to see my fellow comrade-in-arms.” “Give it a rest. You’re too old to be going around picking fights,” Sejuleu said, his voice graver than Maxi had ever heard.
Breston’s lips twisted. “And this coming from you? I remember a time when you’d seek out any brawl you could.” “I’ve become more sensible with age,” Sejuleu said, sighing. “I heard you’re now the commander of your order. Do try not to tarnish your father’s name.”
Hostility flashed across Breston’s face. Maxi held her breath in the tense silence.
“Very well,” he said eventually, nodding. “I shall be careful.”
The tension eased from Maxi’s shoulders. Though Breston still looked willful and dangerous, he seemed to have learned some restraint. She furtively tugged at Ulyseon’s clothes.
“Th-There is an empty table in the infirmary. I would like to continue my work there…
Could you help me move my tools?”
Ulyseon broke his wary glare and released the hilt of his sword. He picked up the tools Maxi indicated and shifted them to his side along with the drake bone.
“Shall we, my lady?” he said, motioning with his head.
Relieved, Maxi rolled up her parchment and tucked it under her arm. She then motioned to Anette, who was absentmindedly watching them from a short distance away.
Sejuleu let out a groan. “How can 1 stay out of it if we’ve another war on our hands before the real one has even begun? I’ll eat my hat if you two really do resolve this peacefully.”
Ignoring him, Riftan pulled back the thick leather flap covering the tent’s entrance. His gaze landed on the bed covered in expensive throws and furs. A fireplace blazed beside it, with a long table positioned in front.
Richard Breston sat at the table enjoying a sumptuous feast of food and drink. He turned his head toward Riftan.
“Long time no see, Calypse,” he said, raising a silver goblet. “Though 1 can’t say I’m glad to see you, even as a lie.”
Without waiting for permission to enter, Riftan strode into the tent and settled across from Breston. The knight filled a second goblet with wine.
“I hear you’re set to be an earl soon. Here, allow me to offer you a drink to celebrate your undue advancement in life.” “Do you not also have an undue advancement to celebrate?” Riftan said, looking at the claymore propped to one side of the tent.
The hilt was engraved with a wolf, the symbol of the commander of the Knights of Phil Aaron.
Accepting the goblet, Riftan drained it and added dryly, “Allow me to pour you one for managing to weasel your way into your new position using your father’s shining achievements.”
He picked up the bottle and tipped wine into Breston’s goblet. The dark red liquor overflowed, spilling first onto the table and then over Breston’s lap. The man’s languid demeanor vanished, anger blazing in his eyes.
Riftan met his fierce gaze with stony indifference and placed the empty bottle back down. “There is a knot between us that needs untangling. I intend to challenge you to a duel once this war is over, so you can stop your childish provocations.”
Breston said nothing.
“There are soldiers from all over the Seven Kingdoms gathered here. If you don’t want to be ridiculed as the fool who instigates strife, 1 suggest you proceed with caution.”
Breston’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed a chunk of meat and tore a bite out of it. Chewing, he said in an ominous tone, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Riftan slowly rose to his feet. Just as he was about to step out of the tent, Breston’s voice — gleeful this time — grated on his nerves.
“But you see, you misunderstand something. I didn’t talk to that woman to get a rise out of you. I find her bravery fascinating, especially as she’s trembling like a leaf all the while. Even if she weren’t connected to you, 1 would still find myself drawn to her.”
Riftan froze.
“Who knows?” Breston added slowly. “She might be a widow by the time this war is over.”
A heartbeat later, he was no longer smiling. Riftan stood dangerously close to him, his dagger stabbed into the plate between the Baltonian’s fingers. The sharp blade had cut clean through into the table beneath. If his aim had been even a little less precise, it would have pierced the back of Breston’s hand.
In the tense silence that followed, Breston stared at the dagger, his fury rising. He cussed and leaped to his feet.
Wrestling the Baltonian back down onto his chair, Riftan held him there by sheer force. He yanked the dagger up and held it under Breston’s Adam’s apple in one swift movement. Breston’s struggling stilled immediately.
“Did 1 not tell you to mind your tongue?”
Riftan’s chilling voice was at odds with his tranquil gaze.
“You did…” said Breston. “I’ve never forgotten the humiliation of that day.”
His eyes flashed as he bared his teeth. Riftan leaned the tip of his blade closer to his neck.
Sensing they had crossed into dangerous waters, Sejuleu Aren rushed forward. “That’s enough.” “That’s enough,” he said, regarding Breston coldly. “You’ll have plenty of time to settle this after the war. I will even serve as a witness to your duel.”
Riftan slowly backed away before striding toward the entrance.
Acting as though nothing had happened, Breston reached for the meat on his plate. He mumbled as he tore into it, “Then let us both muster our patience. The longer the wait, the sweeter the harvest…”