The reinforcements from Winter Castle finally reached the citadel.

I went out as far as beyond the North Gate to welcome them.

"All Rangers, halt!"

At the leading Ranger's shout, the Rangers snapped to attention.

Before the Rangers lined up like that, a Mage of the White Night Tower stepped forward, the hem of his white robe trailing.

"Your Highness..."

He had once dreamed of becoming a knight, but now he was the second son of House Tailheim, who had discarded his rings and refined circles of magic within his body.

"Taylor of the White Night Tower and sixteen Mages pay our respects to His Highness the Crown Prince of the kingdom!"

"You've done well coming all this way."

I took Taylor Tailheim's hand as he cried out in emotion and quietly helped him to his feet.

There was so much I wanted to ask.

How Winter Castle was, how Vincent and the other Rangers were doing, and how the situation in the mountain range was unfolding.

"We'll talk later."

But instead of pouring out my questions, I turned my head.

CLANK, CLANK.

The heavy noise of hundreds of pairs of steel boots stopped abruptly before me.

A group of troops stood before me, flying a military flag with an upside-down yellow-white flame embroidered on a black field, carrying packs larger than their own bodies on their backs, and wearing pitch-black cloaks pulled all the way over their heads.

They were dwarves.

And not just any dwarves, but the war specialists of the elite "Boiling Iron Legion," composed of the fiercest and most warlike dwarves of their race.

The upside-down yellow-white flame was the symbol of the Iron Legion, after all.

The dwarf standing at the head of the Iron Legion abruptly threw back his cloak and stepped before me.

The dwarf removed his horned helmet, tucked it under his arm, and pounded his breastplate with heavy thuds.

"Thousand-Commander Gurka. I've come with the warriors of my race to lend you a hand."

A thousand-commander was a major figure among the dwarves, equivalent to a general, and while I was bewildered by his identity, I gladly held out my hand.

"Adrian Leonberk. I never thought the dwarves would send reinforcements."

"If you truly thought that, then you have taken dwarven friendship far too lightly. We dwarves never turn a blind eye to a friend's hardship."

The thousand-commander clasped my hand roughly and grinned, showing his sparse teeth.

It was a fierce yet hearty smile, like a wolf's.

"So it seems. In any case, welcome."

"May I look around the citadel?"

Gurka glanced behind him.

Following his gaze, I saw five carts covered with thick cloth.

"Iron guns?"

"They are few in number, but I guarantee their power will prove quite useful."

"They're the Iron Legion's iron guns. How could they be anything else?"

"You know the name of Iron."

"I only saw a few lines in a book."

"What did it say?"

"That among the dwarves, there is an army made up of the fiercest warriors."

"That differs from the truth."

Gurka grew serious at my words and shook his head.

"The warriors of the Iron Legion are not merely fierce warriors, but very, very fierce and outstanding warriors."

After saying that, he burst into loud laughter as if he had never been serious at all.

He seemed to find his own answer extremely witty.

But though his tone was playful, the confidence contained within it was real.

The Iron Legion had every right to be confident.

As far as I knew, they were one of the most powerful combat groups in existence.

For me now, I was simply grateful for the unexpected powerful reinforcements, and I could endure any number of unfunny jokes.

I called the defense captain and ordered him to guide the dwarves around the citadel at once.

Several dwarves left with the defense captain.

Gurka and the remaining dwarves also headed toward the citadel under the soldiers' guidance.

I smiled in satisfaction as I watched the small but solid backs of the dwarves.

But that lasted only a moment before I composed my expression.

The dwarves were not the only unexpected guests.

And unlike the dwarves, the one remaining group of guests was not something I could particularly welcome.

Some distance away stood one hundred men and women with their heads held upright.

Their red cloaks trimmed with gold thread were splendid yet dignified, and the ivory-colored helmets covering their noses and the armor on their shoulders were exceedingly elegant yet strong in form.

The pure-white uniforms visible between their cloaks looked benevolent and sacred like priests' robes, yet their well-ordered bearing was as sharp as a single blade.

Their appearance was so exceptional that the defenders on the walls clamored just to see them even a little closer.

It was fortunate, at least, that they had their helmets pulled down low.

If not, the commotion would have been several times worse than it was now.

There were not many humans who could look upon the bare faces of elves and keep their minds intact, and that was even more true for soldiers on a battlefield.

But to me, that outstanding beauty was only uncomfortable and disgusting.

Because I knew better than anyone the black hearts and snake-like natures hidden beneath their angelic appearances.

Also, since my last parting with Sigrun had not been very pleasant, I had no reason to welcome the elves' sudden appearance.

The mere fact that they had shown themselves before me was enough to make my insides churn.

The final moments of the Sword Maidens, miserably slaughtered, rose before me like an illusion.

Forgotten memories surfaced, and rage surged up.

But before I could express that rage, someone stepped forward first.

It was the Rangers, including Yorden.

SNAP.

Before I knew it, the Rangers had spread out in every direction, loaded bolts into their crossbows, and surrounded the elves.

The eyes of the cheerful Rangers, who used to spout insane jokes regardless of time or place, were fiercer than ever before.

"Your Highness. Just give the word. We'll riddle them with holes at once."

Yorden said to me in a heavily cracked voice.

His bearing was as if he had an irreconcilable enemy right before his eyes.

It seemed he had not forgotten the grudge from back when the matter with Sigrun had brought me to the brink of death.

"Bastards I could chew to pieces and still not feel better. Where the hell do they think this is, crawling in here?"

As I listened to Yorden's voice grinding through his teeth, the boiling rage inside me went out all at once.

I felt as if I had missed my chance to get angry.

I sighed and ordered Yorden to stand down.

"I cannot stand down. Last time, you stepped forward alone like that and suffered terribly. This time, I absolutely cannot stand down."

"Yorden."

"If you punish me, I will accept any punishment. But right now, I cannot obey Your Highness's order."

"I know what you are worried about. But the me then and the me now are not the same, so what you worry about will never happen."

"You said that and were found unconscious any number of times. I do not want to see Your Highness like that again."

Yorden had always faithfully carried out my orders even while grumbling, but this time, he would not bend his stubbornness.

I sighed once again.

Because I understood how he felt, I was not angry at his repeated insubordination.

But we were not the only ones here.

Moreover, Silver Lion Citadel was a fortress in wartime.

Insubordination could not be accepted under any circumstances.

"Ranger Company Commander Yorden. I will not say it again. Stand down."

Yorden reluctantly stepped back.

But he kept a bolt loaded in his crossbow and glared at the elves, poised to rush in at any moment if anything went wrong.

Even I could do nothing more about that much and had no choice but to leave it be.

I left the Rangers behind and stepped in front of the elves.

Though they were surrounded by countless Rangers, they showed little change in expression.

They simply stood with their backs straight and looked at me.

"Did Sigrun not tell you where elves are supposed to be?"

With hostility and killing intent, I informed them that the kingdom had no intention of welcoming them.

But the elves were still calm.

SNAP.

One man took a step forward.

Even at a glance, his features were especially outstanding and his bearing was out of the ordinary, so he was no ordinary elf.

At a guess, the man was surely a High Elf.

"O Prince of the Leonberk Kingdom. First, on behalf of the clan, I express my heartfelt apology and sympathy for the terrible wrong committed by Executor Sigrun..."

The High Elf man prattled on as if his tongue had been greased.

"This is not the land of elves. This is the territory of the kingdom. And yet you do not even show proper courtesy to its master. And still you speak of sincerity?"

THUD.

I lightly struck the ground and raised my force.

The stature I had attained at those lofty heights spread in every direction and pressed down on the elves.

The elf man, who had been prattling as though he were so superior, urgently opened his mouth with a stiff face.

"As savages who live in the forest, we were ignorant of the kingdom's customs and committed a discourtesy."

The High Elf man went down on one knee.

The other elves also knelt after him.

"Please forgive us."

The man once again apologized to me for the atrocities Sigrun had committed.

"It is not for me to decide whether to forgive you."

I called over the half elf who had been watching me from among the Rangers and stood her beside me.

Gunne looked down at the elves in silence.

The High Elf man looked as if he had suffered an unparalleled humiliation.

His gaze toward Gunne was filled with contempt and anger.

It seemed his pride was deeply wounded because the noble pure-blooded elf had ended up kneeling before a mere half-blood elf.

But I had not the slightest intention of protecting that worthless pride.

"If you wish it, they will not return alive."

I raised my hand slightly.

The Rangers lifted the crossbows they had lowered.

The soldiers on the walls, too, though bewildered and unaware of what was happening, aimed their bows at the elves.

Even then, the High Elf man remained calm.

He looked a little displeased, but his expression said he had expected at least this much.

He seemed to think all of this was nothing more than a bluff meant to seize the initiative.

But that composure lasted only until I placed my hand on the hilt of my sword.

I released my stature and force.

I filled them with killing intent and hostility.

The High Elf man looked at me with a face gone rigid.

"O Prince of the kingdom. Nowhere is it law to treat envoys with such disrespect."

"A moment ago, you called yourself a savage ignorant of customs, and now you seek to teach me human law."

Before he could spout more nonsense, I spoke again.

"If you came intending to apologize in Sigrun's stead, you should have come prepared to be punished in Sigrun's stead as well."

At my words, the man protested.

He said it was improper to take my anger out on the wrong people.

In its own way, it was reasonable, but I did not give it the slightest heed.

As if they had ever cared about justification.

A race that destroyed the lives of others for simple amusement, without any reason at all.

I merely snorted.

Besides, this was not simple venting.

This was a kind of test.

A test imposed on the sinister elves who had shown themselves on the kingdom's border at a time like this, of all times.

TUG.

Gunne grabbed my sleeve.

She quietly shook her head.

I took my hand off the hilt.

I had also withdrawn all the force I had released in every direction.

The High Elf man looked at me as if dissatisfied.

Unlike the other elves, whose faces had turned pale, the man's face was relatively calm.

It was indeed power befitting a High Elf, born holding a lofty status from birth.

"How old are you?"

I asked the man his age.

"The time of our clan and the time of humans are not the same."

"So how old are you?"

"I may appear to be of a similar age to Your Highness, but in truth, the time I have lived is more than enough to repeat Your Highness's entire life seven times over."

For an instant, a hint of looking down on me as insignificant appeared in the man's eyes and then vanished.

It was not an incomprehensible emotion.

To a High Elf, for whom age was both position and power, how trivial must humans seem?

But the same was true on my side.

"You could say you're a little over a hundred and fifty, then."

Because to my eyes, having existed since the age of the Great War, he was unmistakably an infant.