The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 112:March On

"My Lord, they are Captains of the remaining troops," Valen spoke, introducing two bulky figures.

"Also, after the death of Master Cedric, the curse seems to have weakened and people started to recover but all isn’t well as Lord Fernad is still in a coma as are many senior Knights."

"I expected that much. On top of the curse, many had been poisoned also."

"Heru is prepared to give his all," A bulky man with a huge hammer spoke.

"Kassel is in your service," another bulky guy bowed.

Kael nodded and patted.

"It’s good to have you in the team."

"The grace is ours."The two chimed.

Kael walked then forward, dragging his sword behind him, the sharp edge carving a thin line in the snow.

His piercing gaze swept over the gathered crowd, scanning each face with deadly seriousness. There was no amusement in his eyes, no trace of the carefree arrogance he once carried. Today, he stood as something different—something colder, sharper.

"People of the North—no, that’s not the right term," Kael began, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "People of Veydrin Duchy, citizens of the Heinz Empire, you have suffered because of our negligence. And for that, I ask you to forgive me." He lowered his head slightly in a small bow.

Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave.

"N-No way..."

"A noble... bowing?"

Even Vic, who thought he had seen everything, felt his heart jolt. The others, hardened knights and wary townsfolk alike, were frozen in place. A noble never bowed to commoners. Yet here was Kael, doing the unthinkable.

Kael straightened, his voice turning steel-sharp. "Your lands have withered, your people have suffered, and the Northern Gates—the shield of our homeland—have been weakened. Not by war. Not by nature. But by the greed and jealousy of a coward."

His gaze darkened, the name burning on his tongue. "Cedric Veydrin. A man who could not stand his brother’s success. A man so weak, so worthless, that he poisoned his own father and cursed this land out of spite."

The murmurs grew louder, anger and disbelief spreading through the crowd.

Kael raised his hand, silencing them. Then, he turned to the knights. "And yet, in our darkest moment, in the face of betrayal and ruin, the enemy gathers at our gates." He took a step forward, dragging his sword through the snow. "Savages who believe that we are weak. Who believes we will kneel. Who believes they can take what is ours." His voice rose, each word hitting like a hammer. "I say no."

A chill ran through the crowd.

Kael lifted his sword high, his voice turning into a roar. "I say we remind them whose land this is. I say we remind them that the North does not fall! That the North does not cower! That the North does not forgive!" His sword gleamed under the falling snow, his eyes burning with cold fire.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, a single voice rang out. "For the North!"

Another.

And another.

A roar of rage and resolve erupted from the crowd as swords were raised and fists clenched. Kael stood at the center, his presence towering over them like an unshakable force.

The war was coming. And now, the North was ready.

As the roar of the crowd echoed through the frozen land, Kael lowered his sword, letting the energy settle. His gaze swept over the sea of determined faces—knights, commoners, even servants, all ignited by the fire of his words. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, landing on the armor of the gathered warriors, melting instantly from the heat of their rising fury.

The once-quiet town was now alive with purpose, their fear replaced by something sharper, something dangerous.

Kael looked around and then shouted.

"Knights and Soldiers, march for the northern gates!"

"MARCHHH AWAY!"

Handel and Gare exchanged a glance, their expressions calm yet calculating. They had expected resistance, doubt, maybe even hesitation from the people.

Instead, Kael had turned them into a raging storm with just a few words. Vic, standing off to the side, cracked his knuckles with a wild grin. "Now that’s how you make people listen," he muttered, impressed despite himself.

Valen stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Lord Kael, what are your orders?" His voice held no mockery now,only respect, hard-earned and grudging.

Even the knights who had once sneered at Kael now stood straighter, waiting for his command.

Kael exhaled slowly, his breath turning to mist. "The enemy is coming. They think this land is weak, that its people are broken. We will show them the truth." His voice was low, sharp as a blade. He turned to Gare. "Send word to the villages near the Northern Gate. No one leaves. No one enters. We don’t need spies running around."

Gare nodded, already moving to carry out the order.

"Valen, start fortifying the city’s defenses. Check the walls, reinforce the weak points, and get the archers in place."

Handel bowed slightly. "Understood."

Kael turned his gaze to Vic. "Gather the best fighters. We’re forming an elite unit. If the enemy wants war, we’ll give them one they won’t forget."

Vic’s grin widened. "Finally, some real action."

The knights and townsfolk murmured, a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy running through them. Snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in white, but the cold was nothing compared to the fire burning in their hearts.

Kael looked up at the darkening sky. The storm was coming.

....

A short distance from the city of Sparkles, a group of men wrapped in thick fur cloaks stood in the cold, their faces hidden in the shadows. They stared at the city gates, where a body hung upside down, stripped and humiliated. One of them scoffed. "Isn’t that Cedric?" Another spat on the ground. "Damn fool. I told you he wasn’t worth the trouble."

The whispers among them grew tense, but all fell silent when a man in the middle raised his hand. His sunken eyes held a hollow madness, and the serpent tattoo running down his face made him look even more menacing. He let out a slow, eerie chuckle.

"Do you really think this is over?" His voice was deep, laced with something sinister. "A mere thousand people? How laughable." His lips twisted into a grin. "Once our task is complete, not even the kingdom’s entire army will be able to stand against us." His laughter echoed through the silent night before he waved his hand. "Fall back. There’s nothing for us here."

The cloaked figures moved swiftly, disappearing into the darkness.

Unbeknownst to them, hidden among the bushes, a group of knights watched closely. One of them, clad in a lighter suit of armor, exhaled. "The Lord was right. There were rats lurking around."

His name was Chandler, a senior knight who had been by Kael’s side since the awakening ceremony. Another knight, a younger one named Edrik, clenched his fists. "Should we fall back or follow them?"

Chandler hesitated. "The Lord told us only to observe."

Edrik shook his head. "No. We shoulf follow. This could be a chance to make a real difference."

"But it’s dangerous," another knight warned.

"Dangerous? So what?" Edrik snapped. "Did you see how hard the Lord is working for us? He’s not just fighting for himself—he’s thinking about all of us. It’s our turn to repay him."

The knights exchanged glances, then nodded. Without another word, they moved, trailing the cloaked figures.

Chandler wanted to stop these hot blooded youth but it was already beyond their control as they started running.