Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale-Chapter 48: The Aftermath of Defeat

The great hall of Count Gregor’s keep was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of burning wood and tension. The count sat upon his ornate chair, his fingers gripping the carved armrests with such force that his knuckles turned white. His face was a mask of unrestrained fury, his dark eyes burning with indignation as he relived the disastrous battle in his mind.

"How?" His voice echoed off the stone walls, laced with disbelief. "How did they defeat my forces?"

His mind reeled as he recalled the sight of the battlefield. He had entered the war with a confident stride, leading an army of thirty thousand. Yet, despite their numbers, they had been utterly routed. Valtieri’s forces were supposed to be weak—only ten thousand soldiers and a handful of mages. The odds had been in his favor. And yet...

The Valtieri territory, a mere backwater in his eyes, had somehow mustered the strength to repel his formidable army.

The silver-haired girl. The black-clad mage who wielded the Veilbreaker Staff. Their overwhelming power had turned the tide of battle in an instant. That spell, the one that had turned the field into a scorched wasteland—it haunted his thoughts. Almost half his army had been reduced to ash in mere seconds.

Then there was Tiberius, his most trusted knight commander, a warrior he had deemed nearly invincible. Defeated. By that abomination of a girl. That so-called golem had transformed into something monstrous, tearing through his forces with inhuman strength and magic beyond comprehension. He was shocked when he learned from one of his soldiers how Tiberius had been defeated.

Gregor’s hands clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms. "They should have been nothing but a backwater territory," he seethed. "Where did they obtain such power?"

From the shadows, a voice interrupted his brooding. "My lord, the war is not over."

Gregor turned his gaze toward Corven, his most trusted advisor. Unlike the count, Corven remained composed, his expression unreadable.

"We underestimated them," Corven admitted. "But we have the means to rectify our mistake."

Gregor’s brow furrowed. "You speak as if you have a plan."

Corven stepped forward, his robes whispering against the stone floor. "We must eliminate their trump cards—their two mages. Without them, Valtieri will crumble."

Gregor scoffed. "Do not insult me with obvious strategies, Corven. Do you truly believe we can simply ’eliminate’ them? You saw what they did."

A slow smirk spread across Corven’s lips. "We have yet to use our own trump card."

Gregor narrowed his eyes. "Livius."

Corven nodded. "Your son has completed his training at Arcadia Tower. As we speak, he is en route back to our domain. He has ascended to the rank of a fifth-class magician. With the resources you provided him—the red mana crystals, the Earth Dragon’s mana core—he is more powerful than ever."

A dark, satisfied grin spread across Gregor’s face. "Excellent. Once he arrives, we will rethink our strategy. Valtieri will not celebrate for long."

---

The Aetherwing Skiff sliced through the sky, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the ruined battlefield below. Kael stood at the helm, his sharp eyes scanning the land beneath them. His heart pounded as he took in the devastation.

The once-lush fields surrounding Valtieri’s stronghold were now blackened and scorched, littered with shattered weapons and broken siege engines. The remnants of war lay scattered like forgotten remnants of a nightmare.

Kael’s hands tightened around the controls. "This... this is worse than I imagined," he murmured.

Count Edgar, standing beside him, frowned. "It appears Gregor’s forces launched their attack just days after our departure. They were swift. That bastard dared to attack my territory!"

Lily and Oswald stood near the railing, their gazes fixed on the remnants of battle. Lily’s eyes were full of worry, while Oswald’s expression remained unreadable, his silver hair catching the wind."

As they neared the stronghold, Kael’s unease deepened. Had Gregor attacked again? Had they suffered more losses?

The skiff descended toward the fortress, and relief washed over Kael as he spotted Valtieri soldiers standing guard. The walls, though slightly damaged, still stood strong. Their people had endured.

Upon landing, Kael, Count Edgar, the Duke, and their entourage disembarked. Awaiting them were Victor, Keira, and Alice, standing tall despite the exhaustion evident in their eyes.

Count Edgar wasted no time. "Report."

Victor saluted. "A week after your departure, Count Gregor launched an attack. His forces outnumbered us, but Keira and Alice turned the tide." He then recounted how Alice transformed into her Golem state, her body encased in an exoskeleton-like armor, covering her entirely. She became a force to be reckoned with, tearing through the enemy lines and ultimately defeating Tiberius.

Kael’s eyes snapped to Victor. "Alice transformed?"

Victor nodded, his voice carrying a mix of awe and disbelief. "She activated some form of exoskeleton, its what she called it—an advanced battle state. She engaged Tiberius and utterly destroyed him."

Kael turned to Alice, his curiosity ignited. "Tell me more."

Alice met his gaze, her usual stoic demeanor unchanged. "I did what was necessary."

The Duke, intrigued, stepped forward, his sharp eyes locking onto Alice. "So this is the one you spoke of, Lord Kael?"

Kael nodded. "Duke Marcus Marveil, meet Alice."

Alice bowed with mechanical precision, her voice calm. "It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace."

The Duke examined her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a gleam of amusement and admiration, he turned to Kael. "Can I buy her?"

Kael blinked, stunned. "What?"

The Duke chuckled. "An artifact of such value—surely you’d be willing to part with her for the right price?"

Alice remained impassive, awaiting Kael’s response.

Kael exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Alice is not for sale."

The Duke smirked. "Pity. I had quite the offer in mind."

Count Edgar sighed. "Let’s focus on more pressing matters. Gregor will not stay idle."

Kael nodded, his mind already racing. If Gregor had suffered such a defeat, he would return stronger. And if his son Livius had truly reached the fifth-class magician rank, then the next battle would be far more dangerous than the last.

The war was far from over. frёeωebɳovel.com

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