Chapter 234: Despair

In total, more than one hundred and thirty-seven good men had fallen that day, thirty of them from Goldenveil’s guard, the rest from the militia.

One hundred and thirty-seven for nearly three thousand five hundred enemies was a formidable exchange in the eyes of any strategist, but no one there felt any reason to celebrate.

Some had lost friends, others brothers, and there were even those who mourned the loss of their fathers.

The bodies were carefully prepared to be returned to their families, where they would lie in state and receive burial with all due honors.

The families, naturally, would receive generous pensions for their service.

Ethan watched it all with a cold gaze, his face impassive as the wind swept across the battlefield.

"My lord, we have five hundred men ready to march right now. Should we set out for Whitefall?" Doran approached with a grave expression, his voice low.

"Give them a few hours to rest. The march will be long," Ethan replied with a heavy sigh, turning his gaze to Alice, who had reached level ninety during the last battle.

Doran nodded silently and walked away, giving the couple a moment of privacy.

Seeing his beautiful wife approach, ready to throw herself into his arms, Ethan smiled slightly. "I’m going to get blood on your dress."

"I don’t even really like this dress that much, anyway..." Alice replied, embracing him without hesitation, rising onto her tiptoes to seal his lips with a kiss.

At that very moment, she snapped her fingers, and a soft glow swept over them both, dispelling every trace of blood that had stained their bodies.

"Hm... that’s better now, hehehe~" Alice gave a sweet giggle, nestling her face against her husband’s chest. "Do you want me to get Veronica ready so we can head to Whitefall? It’s going to be a long trip, isn’t it?"

"No," Ethan shook his head. "Go back to Goldenveil with her and the militia. I’ll march with the guard to Whitefall."

Hearing that, the smile on Alice’s face faded slightly, but in the end, she didn’t question it.

If her husband had decided that, then it must be for the best.

Soon, she joined Veronica, and after a few hours of rest, the two of them left for Goldenveil accompanied by the militia and the logistics team that followed the army, the wagons now carrying tons of weapons and armor looted from the defeated.

And so, just under five hundred guards remained with Ethan, lined up in rigid formation and ready to march.

Ethan watched them for a brief moment before allowing Mireya to return to the pendant resting against his chest, then walked toward his horse.

Without hesitation, he mounted the beautiful stallion, his eyes drifting to Evelyn as her golden armor slowly dissolved into tiny fragments of light.

Her tanned skin emerged piece by piece, soon revealed beneath nothing but a tiny top and a pair of tight leather shorts that struggled to contain the abundant curves of her hips.

The fabric sank deeply between her plump, full cheeks, carving obscene grooves into the tanned flesh as it nearly disappeared between the round mounds of her ass.

With a light push, she leapt into the air, her generous ass landing directly on Ethan’s lap with a soft, muffled thud. The impact sent a slow, heavy ripple through the plump mounds, the abundant flesh molding around his thighs, settling against him with a warm weight.

"Nghnn~~ you need to get a weapon like mine for yourself, you know how uncomfortable this armor is?" she complained, grinding her ass slowly against the cold metal as she searched for a comfortable position.

Hearing that, Ethan laughed. "Ah... if it were that easy, I’d already have plenty of these." He gave her hip a gentle pat, his fingers closing eagerly over the voluptuous curve. At the same time, the sides of his feet tapped lightly against the horse’s belly.

Soon, the stallion began to walk, and behind him, Goldenveil’s guard followed in orderly formation, the rhythmic thud of boots and hooves rolling across the open road.

Evelyn didn’t respond. She simply let her head fall back, resting against her lover’s chest with a soft, contented sigh.

She felt his other hand release the reins and rise to her long black hair, caressing it with gentleness, his fingers sliding slowly through the silky strands.

Immediately, a soft smile spread across her lips, and she simply let herself melt into her husband’s caresses.

It would be a considerably long journey, and for all that time, he would be all hers.

A few days later...

Beneath the black gates of Whitefall, a bloodied figure staggered toward the entrance, his armor torn and dented, voice cracking as he roared. "Open the gates!"

One of the guards who had stayed behind hurried to the low wall to see who it was, his eyes widening as he recognized the figure stumbling below.

"C-Captain? What are you doing here alone? Where is our Lord?"

"Dead. They’re all dead! Whitefall is lost! Open the damn gate right now!" the captain of the guard of Whitefall bellowed.

The guard shuddered at his ragged tone and quickly ordered his comrades to open the gates.

"Good!" The captain smiled, his teeth stained with blood, as he staggered into the city.

He had barely escaped, and his leg was badly injured, leaving a thick trail of crimson behind him on the dark mud.

Without hesitation, he let the guards offer their shoulders to support his weight.

"Gather your families! We’re going to empty the treasury and get the hell out of here!" the captain ordered, watching the guards’ expressions shift in alarm.

Was the situation really that serious?

The captain knew that was exactly what they were thinking, but he remained silent.

Deep down, he just wanted to grab everything and flee alone as quickly as possible, but he was wounded and needed help.

All he could do was pray that the Goldenveil army would be delayed long enough to give him time to escape with his most trusted guards.

Once he recovered, he would simply kill them and keep all the wealth from the vaults for himself.

Unfortunately, his prayers went unanswered.

Even before the gate closed completely, he sensed a powerful aura rising on the horizon, descending like an oppressive shadow over the now-unprotected Whitefall.

The captain’s blood ran cold as he recognized that aura, his face filling with despair.