Chapter 130: Margaret Madness

Reynold hesitated for a moment longer.

’’W-We’ve found the advance force,’’ he said, his voice low. ’’Sir Cedric and all his men.’’

Aldric’s head snapped up.

For a moment, light flickered through his eyes.

’’Have him report back to me right now,’’ he replied. ’’I need to know exactly what has transpired until now.’’

Silence fell inside the tent.

Reynold’s head slowly lowered, fear flashing through his expression.

’’My lord, they can’t do that,’’ he muttered. ’’It’s... it’s better if you see for yourself.’’

Aldric’s expression fell instantly.

A bad feeling spread through his stomach as he stood up.

’’Lead the way.’’

...

A short while later, Aldric arrived at the outskirts of Riverwood.

Baldwin, Baressa, and several other high-ranking officers from both Deres and Ironhart accompanied him.

None of them spoke.

And when they finally reached the location Reynold had described, they understood why.

Ahead of them stood a mountain of corpses.

Hundreds of bodies had been piled on top of one another, their bloodstained armor and torn clothing making it difficult to distinguish one soldier from another.

Some were missing heads. Others had their stomachs cut open or their limbs torn off.

And at the very bottom of the pile, several familiar Deres banners lay trampled beneath the dead.

’’By the gods...’’ Baldwin muttered to himself.

Even Baressa didn’t seem to be in a joking mood.

Everyone came to a halt several feet away from the pile.

Only Aldric slowly approached the mountain of corpses, his gaze filled with many complicated emotions.

His fists clenched as he recognized face after face.

These men had served under him for years, having accompanied him on many previous campaigns.

And near the top...

’’Cedric,’’ he mumbled, his voice barely audible. ’’Look what they did to you.’’

The old commander’s lifeless corpse rested on top of all the other corpses, his armor covered in dried blood.

But to many, he wasn’t just a commander.

The man had fought side by side with Aldric’s father before retiring to become an instructor.

Aldric had been one of the many who’d had the honor of training under him, eventually surpassing his old instructor and becoming a Three-Seal Knight.

Despite that, he had never forgotten the man.

Just then, Baldwin stepped forward, carefully examining each of the bodies.

’’Sword wounds,’’ he observed. ’’This wasn’t simply another trap. They fought someone here.’’

’’And judging by the condition of their armor, these men put up quite a fight.’’

Another officer crouched down near the bodies.

’’But where are the enemy’s dead?’’ he asked. ’’Fighting with our elites must’ve killed well over a hundred of them...’’

Nobody could give him an answer.

Aldric slowly stood up, blood dripping from his clenched fists.

Baldwin stepped up beside him, his expression hardening as he placed a hand on Aldric’s shoulder.

’’To desecrate fallen soldiers like this... It’s a deliberate insult,’’ he said. ’’We’ll make them pay for this.’’

Nodding once, Aldric slowly loosened his fists.

...

By the time they returned to the encampment, the atmosphere had changed completely.

Soldiers stood outside their tents, whispering amongst themselves.

Some lowered their heads when they passed, while others simply stared.

The news had spread through the entire army like wildfire.

The entire advance force had been annihilated.

Put that news on top of the countless casualties suffered during the past two days.

Aldric could practically feel the morale of his army collapsing.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if several soldiers had already deserted.

Unfortunately, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

’’Summon all the officers who weren’t present,’’ he ordered. ’’We need to discuss our plans.’’

Reynold immediately bowed before turning around.

Seeing that, Aldric entered his command tent, his expression ice-cold.

Inside the tent, a tense discussion was already underway.

Baldwin stood beside the table, his expression unusually serious.

’’We can’t go on like this,’’ he said. ’’None of the soldiers want to die to traps and tricks. Many are thinking of deserting at this very moment!’’

A Deres officer nodded solemnly.

’’Our numbers are indeed dwindling rapidly. Especially after rumors of the advance party’s fate spread.’’

Several others nodded seriously.

Baldwin let out a deep sigh as he sat back down.

’’We need to take action,’’ he said, dragging a hand across his face. ’’Does anyone have any suggestions on how to overturn these... cruel and dishonorable acts?’’

Before anyone could say anything, a scream rang out from the corner of the room.

’’IT’S THAT DEVIL!’’ a female voice screeched. ’’HE’S HERE AGAIN!’’

Everyone froze for a moment.

Near the back of the tent, Margaret had suddenly raised her head.

Her eyes were wide with terror and fear.

’’RODERIC! IT’S HIM!’’

Two servants immediately rushed forward, desperately trying to restrain her hands.

But Margaret continued struggling.

Her scalp was covered in scratches, and what little hair remained had been torn into uneven patches.

’’THE DEVIL! THE DEMON!’’ she screamed. ’’EVIL! EVIL! HE’S DOING IT AGAIN!’’

The Deres officers exchanged uncomfortable glances.

They had all heard the recent stories surrounding Roderic Whitemane.

His sudden transformation, strange behavior, and, of course, the incident at the Young Noble Gathering.

’’Roderic Whitemane?’’ Baldwin repeated thoughtfully.

A frown slowly grew on his face.

’’We’ve certainly heard about his recent antics. Recklessness, unusually cruel punishments, and a rather remarkable rise to the peak of the One-Seal rank.’’

He paused for a moment.

’’It would fit his profile... especially since Arthur Whitemane would never wage war in such a dishonorable manner.’’

Nods of agreement appeared all around the table.

But that assumption only opened up more questions in everyone’s minds.

’’HE NEEDS TO DIE!’’

Margaret’s scream interrupted their thoughts once more.

’’DIE! DIE! DIE!’’

Aldric raised his hand, intending to have the servants remove her.

But before he could give the order, Margaret shrieked once more.

’’HE’S TORTURING US! JUST LIKE HE DID TO GARETH!’’

Aldric’s hand froze in midair.

Just the mention of that name sent a surge of memories and complicated emotions through him.

’Gareth... my son.’

He had known about the confrontation between Gareth and Roderic during the gathering.

And knowing his son’s personality, he had suspected things hadn’t ended well.

But despite everything, he’d continued hoping Gareth was still alive somewhere.

It didn’t even matter if he’d been taken prisoner.

As long as he was alive, that was all he cared about.

Aldric’s head slowly turned to Margaret.

’’Repeat what you said,’’ he said sternly.

Margaret didn’t respond.

She was trembling violently, her fingers once again reaching towards her scalp.

’’Margaret,’’ Aldric said, approaching her. ’’What happened to Gareth?’’

’’AARRGH!’’ she screeched, holding her head.

Suddenly, she began curling up, whimpering the same sentence over and over.

’’THE BOXES! THE GIFT BOXES! THEY’RE HERE!’’

Aldric’s patience finally snapped.

SLAP!

His palm struck her cheek.

Margaret fell sideways, staring at him in shock.

’’Speak clearly,’’ he said coldly.

Her face slowly began shifting, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

SLAP!

Another strike sent her tumbling off her chair.

The entire tent fell silent.

Aldric approached her and grabbed her harshly by the shoulders.

’’What happened to my son?’’ he demanded coldly.

For a brief moment, Margaret’s trembling subsided.

Her eyes slowly focused on his face.

’’G-Gareth...’’ she whispered.

Aldric leaned closer, his eyes narrowing.

’’That devil,’’ she continued, her voice barely audible. ’’He cut Gareth into pieces...’’

His eyes widened slightly as his breathing halted.

’’And... and he sent them to me...’’ Margaret began shaking violently. ’’In gift boxes! HE SENT HIM TO ME IN PIECES!’’