Chapter 226: You Don’t Care About Me

It was August 9th. Ten days remained until the flood Isolde had mentioned. She temporarily stopped at Peace Town, aware she would attract attention. Despite the town's small size (only 1,000 people), it necessitated a military-style operation, forcing her to station her troops outside. Isolde knew scouts were watching. After two days, she moved toward Haminlas, the opposite direction from Zloimond, but a mere five-day journey from there. Consequently, she also remained outside Haminlas, where thousands of soldiers had gathered. Officials noticed their arrival and sent investigators. Isolde publicly announced this as a reinforcement force heading to Hoomatin to eliminate bandits, using Haminlas as a supply stop. The government, unsuspicious, provided grain.

Autumn approached, bringing colder weather. The soldiers lacked appropriate clothing, emphasizing the need for a swift victory. Isolde felt uncertain; this life differed from her previous one, and she couldn’t be sure the storm predicted for August 19th would arrive. While her pre-expedition confidence hadn't wavered, lingering uncertainties made her uneasy.

“Marshal, time to eat,” Anthony announced, entering with a plate of steak and pizza.

“Have you eaten?” Isolde asked.

“Not yet,” Anthony replied, sitting cross-legged after placing the plate on the mat.

“Steak?” Isolde exclaimed. “Where did this come from?” Her diet had been simple until now. Sandwiches sufficed, while the soldiers subsisted on dried meat. This was their first fresh meat.

“From the government office,” Anthony smiled.

“Oh,” Isolde said. “Haminlas knows how to care for its soldiers.”

Anthony replied, “Of course. Haminlas is nestled in the mountains, plagued by bandits. The Royal Court’s intervention is precisely what they want.”

“Yes, the bandit problem in Haminlas is severe,” Isolde agreed, looking up at him. “You should eat, too.”

Anthony then left. He was quickly pulled aside by a dark-skinned soldier who whispered, “Has she eaten?”

Anthony, clutching his knife, replied, “She’s about to. Don’t worry; she’ll definitely eat it. How long has it been since she’s had meat? She’ll probably lick the plate clean!”

The soldier released Anthony, muttering, “I’m just afraid she won’t like it.”

“So picky?” Anthony chuckled. “If I had meat, even raw, I’d gobble it down.”

The man departed, and Anthony followed, saying, “Duke, why don’t you go see her?”

This was Geoffrey. He'd found Harlan and Anthony unexpectedly. Geoffrey wished to remain anonymous to Isolde, fearing she'd reject him. He'd asked Harlan to arrange for him to work as a cook. The government had sent meat, but not enough for everyone; the soldiers received none. Isolde's portion was purchased by Geoffrey, a violation of regulations but a gesture of devotion. He’d never imagined begging to remain near his daughter, content to watch her enjoy a good meal from afar.

Geoffrey slowly walked back, Harlan following and pulling him to the river. Though Harlan had been there two days, he hadn’t had a chance to speak privately.

“Duke, it’s not too late to return. While no one knows,” Harlan stated solemnly.

Geoffrey’s expression remained firm. “You know I won’t change my mind. If you still consider yourself my friend, listen to me.”

Harlan looked pained. “Regardless of victory or defeat, you risk your life. You shouldn’t have done this.”

Geoffrey smiled. “Believe it or not, I’ve lived long enough.” Death in battle would allow him to face Prunella and protect Isolde; if questioned by the Royal Court, he'd accept the consequences. He had no regrets.

“Harlan, from tomorrow, assign me to Isolde’s guard. I’ll disguise myself better; she won’t recognize me,” Geoffrey said.

Harlan was momentarily stunned. “Didn’t you say you feared she’d notice before joining the cook unit?”

“Yes, but I’ve reconsidered. With better disguise, she won’t know,” Geoffrey responded.

Harlan studied Geoffrey's altered appearance: smeared face, a drawn-on mole, shaved eyebrows. He looked different.

After a pause, Harlan agreed, “Alright, I’ll arrange it.”

Harlan presented Geoffrey to Isolde, claiming he was from their hometown, introducing him as Billy, a skilled martial artist recently encountered. Isolde, trusting Harlan, merely glanced at Billy and said, “Alright, outside the tent.”

Geoffrey replied in a muffled voice, “Yes!” His hunched posture masked his identity. Isolde, having little contact with the usually upright Geoffrey, didn't recognize him.

On August 14th, Isolde ordered the army’s advance toward Zloimond, to rendezvous with three armies at Okina Town. Despite autumn's arrival, the sun remained fierce, and Isolde’s skin darkened within days. Food supplies gradually caught up.

By August 17th, the three armies had gathered. Only two days remained until August 19th, but Isolde noticed the absence of Vincenzo, Hattie, and Hazel, realizing they were detained.

Kamari knew of the Okina Town gathering. This sudden, unexpected force seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, with scant reports of caravans and scattered suppression warriors—only about 3,000 soldiers, commanded by a woman. Kamari laughed loudly in his mansion.

“Is Theodore crazy? Sending a woman, and only three thousand men, to attack me? Theodore, you don’t take me seriously at all!” Kamari scoffed.