Chapter 427 427: Two Fronts ( 427 )

The Amazarak warriors looked at one another, hesitating—confused, uncertain.

Some shifted uneasily, while others exchanged glances with old comrades.

Then, an Armand officer stepped forward,

his crisp uniform, clean gloves, and a stack of prepared documents in hand.

"Alright." His voice was calm but firm.

He held up a thick folder.

"Anyone choosing to return to the Amazarak Kingdom—step to the left.

Those choosing to stay within Armand and begin a new life—move to the right."

He didn't shout, but his tone left no room for questions.

"Let's not waste time. Line up and decide."

One of the Amazarak warriors blinked, looking at his hands—still trembling.

Then he slowly stood.

A few more followed.

The quiet shuffling of feet began.

Left.

Right.

Some hesitated halfway, standing awkwardly in the center before making their choice.

No guards forced them. No officers rushed them.

Among the crowd, only one warrior stood alone on the left side.

She looked back at her comrades—every single one of them had chosen the right.

Her hands trembled slightly.

She glanced at the officer, then at the unfamiliar soldiers surrounding her.

Her throat tightened.

Suddenly—she rushed across the courtyard, footsteps echoing as she darted to the right side.

The officer narrowed his eyes.

"Hmm? You're not going back to the Amazarak Kingdom?"

The woman shook her head quickly.

"Why?" he asked, curious.

She hesitated, then looked at the others around her.

"If I go alone… will your escort take me directly to Amazarak?"

The officer answered flatly.

"No. We can only escort you to the border between the Beastkin and Halfling kingdoms.

From there, you're on your own.

We cannot go past that point. The Halfling and Amazarak Kingdoms are at war."

The woman bit her lip, lowering her gaze.

Then she nodded slowly.

"Umm… then I stay."

"Haaa…" The officer sighed, already anticipating paperwork chaos.

"Alright, all of you—fill in your names, age, and status here."

The Amazarak warriors rushed forward, grabbing quills and scribbling on the forms. Some wrote clumsily, while others hesitated with the pen, unsure but eager.

"Where will we go?" one of them asked, looking up.

"Hmm? We'll—" the officer began, but suddenly froze mid-sentence.

Footsteps echoed.

Calm. Firm. Heavy.

Garius appeared at the courtyard entrance.

Walking beside him were Mr. Alf and Mrs. Erinnette, both composed and silent.

The Armand elite guards immediately stood straighter, saluting.

The officer bowed deeply.

"My Lord. Mr. Alf. Mrs. Erinnette."

Garius stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the former Amazarak warriors—now quiet and uncertain.

Then he spoke.

"We will open a new land—not too large," he said, his voice calm and deep.

"Enough for your people to live, to farm."

"We will provide the raw materials—wood, tools, cloth, and stone."

"You'll build your homes together, with help from some of our people."

He paused.

"But it will be your village. Your hands will raise it. Earn your peace."

The courtyard fell into silence.

Then—

All of the Amazarak warriors dropped to their knees, heads bowed and hands clenched in the dirt.

Not one dared to speak.

Even without releasing any aura, Garius's presence alone made their chests feel heavy.

Terrifying. Absolute.

"…T-thank you… my Lord…" one of them whispered.

Soon, the others followed.

"…Thank you…"

"…My Lord…"

Garius's voice remained steady—calm but cold enough to silence even the wind.

"We will collect a small tax," he said, his eyes scanning the kneeling warriors.

"From everything your farms produce."

"You'll trade with our merchants and earn your living like any other Armand citizen."

He paused just slightly.

"But make no mistake."

"You are not permanent citizens yet."

Murmurs stilled immediately.

"Our patrol squads will monitor your village—just as they do across all regions under my rule."

"You will be treated exactly as our people are."

"Thank you, my lord!!"

The voices came in unison from every Amazarak warrior still kneeling.

Garius narrowed his eyes slightly.

His tone dropped low, sending chills down their spines.

"Just don't betray me… or my people…"

"…ever again."

"We will not!!"

They shouted louder now—desperate, sincere, and terrified.

Some of them were shaking—not from cold, but from the sheer weight of standing before a man who had every reason to execute them…

…and instead, had given them land.

In the Dwarven Kingdom

"What!! Are you sure!?"

Chieftain Gumarak slammed his hand on the stone table, making the nearby goblets rattle.

A grizzled dwarf warrior bowed low.

"Yes, Chieftain. Halfling troops have been seen massing near our border."

"When!?"

"Three days ago, sir. The report arrived just now. Our border troops and nearby forts are already on alert."

Gumarak's eyes narrowed.

"How many do we have stationed there?"

"Around five thousand on the border wall. Another ten thousand spread across nearby forts and outposts."

"That's not enough," Gumarak growled.

"And the fort captain?"

"He's already sent a formal request for emergency reinforcements. The closest main army camp is expected to arrive within the day."

Gumarak's fists clenched.

"We are not at war with the Halflings.

Why the hell are they marching toward us!?"

The advisor flipped through the scroll again.

"According to the report, they are still within their own territory… but engaging in large-scale military exercises."

Gumarak snorted.

"Exercises? With that many troops near our border? Suspicious…"

He turned to another soldier standing by.

"Prepare and deploy our main army. Now."

"Send our fastest messengers to all regional outposts—immediate mobilization. If the Halflings want to test our strength, they'll get their answer."

"Chieftain!!"

Another dwarf burst through the heavy doors, panting, armor clanking.

"Another emergency report just arrived—urgent priority!"

Gumarak's eyes narrowed.

"What now!?"

The second messenger handed over a sealed scroll with trembling hands.

Gumarak tore it open and scanned the contents.

His hand froze mid-scroll.

Then his voice thundered—

"WHAT!? King Edmund is deploying troops toward our border!?"

His eyes widened.

"Five hundred thousand!?"

The war room fell silent. Even the older, battle-hardened generals exchanged grim glances.

Gumarak slammed the scroll down on the table.

"FUCK!!"

He stood tall, his beard trembling with rage.

"Four hundred thousand from the Halflings on one side… and now five hundred thousand humans from the other!?"

He looked up at the war map—border markers suddenly felt far too thin, too fragile.

"Are they trying to crush us between two walls!?"

( End of Chapter )