Dominic broke through the lines as the Hobgoblins ran away from him and the Arcane Blast spells.
"Your Majesty, if I may?" He asked, extended canines making his voice raspy.
Alexis nodded, and Dominic changed the orders a little. "Mages, use [Firebolt] into the second ranks. Don’t let them back up the others. When you are fighting humans, enemies with spears will also be in the second rank, with shields in front. They also die first."
The girls from the Purity Sect hesitated for a split second, then began to cast.
Surely, this counted as self-defence? The Hobgoblins would definitely kill them if they lost.
Blasts of fire erupted from the mages, instantly dropping the second row of Hobgoblins, and putting the first row off-balance as they were hit by the collapsing bodies. That was a situation that the veiled maids had trained for rigorously just yesterday, and blades flashed as they eliminated the falling Hobgoblins.
It was brilliant, and their first clean kills. Morale was high among the veiled maids as the Hobgoblins fell, and they pushed forward to prevent the survivors from encircling them as the mages continued their assault. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩
The distinction between the two groups was clear. Not just because of the magic, but because a lifetime of physical labour had toned the sisters into a much better body than the soft living of a Mage Tower had done for the others.
So, they were faster, better for the front lines of the defence, while the others were stronger when they had room to counterattack, time to cast spells and choose the enemy’s weakest points.
Eventually, those differences would fade. But a maid who was too clearly trained, too toned, instead of soft and delicate, would give away their secret role and put potential enemies on guard, and the veiled maids at a disadvantage.
They might hide their faces, but there was no mistaking the difference between the grace of a dancer, and the raw physicality of a female warrior like Ella.
The veiled maids had to tread that line, and always come across as unassuming.
Until it was time to strike.
The last of the monsters fell, and Dominic watched the prisoners in the camp struggling to remove their restraints and climb to their feet, intending to flee while they had the chance.
Seeing Dominic attack their captors didn’t exactly inspire confidence that he was the reasonable sort of man who might listen to their pleas. Given the option between facing him and making a run for wherever the trolls had gone, they were seriously considering following the troll.
"Wilkes!" Dominic called.
The Royal Guard Colonel sauntered out of the woods with his rifle slung over his shoulder and his armour gleaming, then waved to the panicked prisoners.
"Ladies and gentlemen, salvation is here. The Cygnia Royal Guard has come to free you from your imprisonment." He declared in his most pompous and official tone.
The haggard captives paused, then rubbed their eyes to make sure that they had seen things right.
A moment ago, a dragonkin sorcerer had ambushed their captors and freed the troll from his compulsion, and now there was a Royal Paladin here to rescue them?
What sort of fairytale situation was this?
Could it be an illusion to see if they were foolish enough to try to turn in their captors? It wouldn’t be the first mind game that had been played on them since they were taken.
But the stench of terror and blood was undeniable.
As was the body of the Grand Elder.
Wilkes stopped ten paces from them and put his rifle into storage, trying to look less threatening.
"Can you tell me where you were taken from, and who your captors were? Duke Wistover neglected to leave one of them alive for interrogation." He asked softly.
One of the young men among the prisoners snorted in amusement. ’Neglected to leave one alive’, indeed.
"Lord Paladin, we were taken nearly two months ago, near Kinewen. The mages are Dagos Army Magic Corps Regulars. Well, one was the Grand Elder, and the other was his bonded acolyte.
They led us here, gathering monsters, and then for the last month, we have simply been waiting.
Say, I don’t suppose you have any food? It’s been a few days since they saw fit to feed us." He asked.
"Of course. I will have someone bring food for you all. But did you say that they are part of the Dagos Army Regulars? Who is their commander? Did they mention anything about leadership?" Wilkes asked.
The prisoner shrugged. "The Grand Elders seem to be in charge of everything, but they answer to someone that they call ’The Master’, and to ’The Prince’, though I don’t know what Prince."
Wilkes nodded. "Right, you’ve been prisoners for two months, you don’t know. Cygnia counterattacked, every Prince except for Prince Kaizon is dead or imprisoned. Stansia Province was ceded to Cygnia after the war ended, and that is where you are now, not far from the Duchy of Wistover."
The man made a protective gesture. "Lord Paladin, we need to leave. Wistover is cursed. Anyone who comes within a hundred kilometres dies a most horrific death."
Wilkes laughed. "Now, that might have been true until very recently. But we live in Wistover, at the old Earl’s Manor. The man with the golden horns is Duke Dominic Wavemates, the Duke of Wistover, returned to his ancestral home.
Over there is Princess Alexis of Cygnia, now the Duchess Wistover.
While it is still incredibly dangerous for Dagos soldiers and roaming monsters to approach Wistover, there is little threat to you."
The entire group of prisoners gave Wilkes matching skeptical looks, then flashed a glance at Dominic.
That was easy for him to say, but they had been right behind the mages when Dominic had attacked.
Wilkes picked up Dominic’s hat and brushed it off.
"How about we bring you to speak with the Princess? She’s marginally less intimidating than the Duke."
Not any less dangerous, Wilkes knew. But certainly less intimidating than Dominic when he was angry. The whole feral Dragonkin thing tended to terrify people.