Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage-Chapter 144: Forest-Clearing Briefing

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Chapter 144: Forest-Clearing Briefing

CH144 Forest-Clearing Briefing

***

Alex arrived at Ashen Castle in the early hours of the morning.

To his surprise, the Fury family warriors stationed there seemed to be preparing for battle. While passing through the castle courtyard, he caught sight of a soldier he had grown familiar with.

"Lieutenant Cross," Alex called out to the middle-aged veteran. "What’s going on?"

The man turned and gave him a quick salute. "Young Lord, the Wildkins from the Ironmourn Desert are stirring again. So far, they’ve only attacked the Killerman fief, but it won’t be long before they start pushing into our territory."

He gave a grim look as he continued, "The Lord is having the troops ready to move out at a moment’s notice."

Alex nodded in understanding. "Thanks."

The two exchanged a few more words before Alex resumed his walk into the castle. He moved briskly through the halls, ascending staircases and passing through long corridors until he arrived at Earl Drake’s office.

As he entered, he found Earl Drake, Jared, and another man huddled around the glowing surface of the COMET magic command table — the magical projection device used for tactical war planning.

Alex didn’t need to ask who the third man was. Though they had never met, he immediately recognised him from the descriptions he’d heard.

Baron Derek Lawson — Lord Marshal of the Fury Family Army.

Earl Drake had long since separated his private fiefdom army, including his Hounds, from the broader Fury House Military under his wider command.

The Hounds were loyal only to the Mad Earl and operated as a personal strike force — bound to him alone.

By contrast, the Fury House Army was a large military organisation formed by pooling soldiers, knights, and recruits from the various fiefdoms and noble lines under the Fury banner. And at the head of this army stood the Lord Marshal — currently Baron Derek Lawson.

-

Historically, the Lord Marshals of House Fury had almost always come from one family: the Lawsons — a small, proud vassal house known for training their descendants as soldiers, generals, and military strategists.

Since pledging fealty to the Fury family three centuries ago, the Lawsons had produced no fewer than six Lord Marshals for the Fury family.

Despite their legacy, however, the Lawson family held only an honorary barony, without any attached land.

That arrangement had made sense during the pre-Golden Era of House Fury, when even the Furies had only a small number of barons themselves. But now, with the Fury family’s rising power and influence, it seemed only right to reward such loyal service.

At least, that was Earl Drake’s belief.

Yet Derek Lawson — head of the Lawson family and a mighty Saint-ranked warrior on par with Jared — had turned down the land enfeoffment. He had instead chosen to retain only the honorary title.

According to him, accepting land might create a division of identity or distract from the Lawson family’s core duty: serving the Fury military.

They were military vassals, pure and simple — based entirely in the City of Ashes, and dedicated to the Fury banner.

Seeing this stalwart Lord Marshal present in Earl Drake’s personal war room gave Alex pause.

The Wildkin raids might be more serious than he’d expected.

-

Unfortunately, it seemed he had arrived a little too late.

The three men were just finishing their war meeting, and by the time Alex had entered, the magical projections on the COMET board were already fading, depriving him of any chance to glean details.

He kept a straight face as he stepped forward and greeted the three men.

"It is good to finally meet you, Young Lord," said Lord Marshal Derek Lawson, his voice deep but respectful. "Your opinions and stances have made their way through our forces. They’ve invigorated morale across several battalions."

"You think too highly of me, Lord Marshal," Alex replied with a wry smile. "I’m still far from being worthy of that title, especially from someone like you. Besides, I merely stood by our family’s laws. That’s hardly something special or worth commendation."

Being called "Young Lord" by Sergeant Cross was one thing. The man served directly under Earl Drake and thus followed the tradition of referring to the Earl’s heir by that title.

But for Lord Marshal Derek Lawson to call him that? That was an entirely different matter.

The Lord Marshal stood at the pinnacle of the Fury Family’s military hierarchy. He didn’t answer to Earl Drake in his personal capacity, but to the Head of the House, the leader of the entire Fury bloodline. For him to call Alex "Young Lord" was an unmistakable sign: he recognised Alex as the next in line to the Fury Family Headship.

While most assumed it was obvious that Earl Drake’s heir would become the next Head, that assumption held no water within the laws of the family.

If Earl Drake were to die this very moment, Alex would have no legitimate claim to the seat of Family Head.

The Fury Family Law was clear: only the strongest could lead the family. And Alex... was still far from being the strongest among them.

He didn’t believe the Lord Marshal had said it in error.

No — more likely, he was being tested. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Rather than get swept up in hubris, Alex chose to remain grounded, responding with humility.

That seemed to amuse the Marshal.

A wide grin stretched across Derek Lawson’s face.

"He’s exactly as you described, my Lord," he said to Earl Drake.

"So?" the Earl asked, raising a brow. "Think he can handle it?"

"If he continues to assess the situation and recognise his limits like he just did..." The Lord Marshal nodded. "Then I believe he’ll do just fine."

Alex blinked, momentarily confused.

He didn’t fully understand what they were discussing — but one thing was certain: he had been right. The two old foxes were testing him.

"May I, my Lord?" Derek asked, gesturing toward the COMET Command Table.

Earl Drake gave a nod.

Lord Marshal Derek activated the magical interface. A glowing map of the Arun Continent appeared, then shrank as the Marshal zoomed in on the Northwest of the Virellian Empire — the heartland of the Fury Family’s territory.

The display focused next on the Dankrot Forest and its surrounding lands.

He began his briefing.

"For the past few weeks, we’ve been receiving increasing reports from the outpost at the edge of Dankrot Forest — the one securing the forest’s main gateway."

He tapped the map, marking several locations in red.

"Magical beasts have been making more frequent excursions beyond the forest’s borders. We’re unsure whether this signals an imminent beast tide, or if there’s been a shift in the forest’s ecology or in the power balance among the overlord beasts within."

He paused before continuing.

"For that reason, we intend to send a force into the forest on a reconnaissance mission. If possible, they are to identify and neutralise the cause of this unrest."

"The Family Head has nominated you for this mission. Are you willing to accept it?" Lord Marshal Derek asked.

He added, "You are not a member of the Fury House Army, so you’re not obligated to do so. We already have a force ready to enter the forest."

Alex didn’t respond to the words.

His eyes were already locked on the map.

The area marked for investigation ran along the Fury Family’s border with the Dankrot Forest, upwards to the north, stretching toward the border with Killerman territory, just a few kilometres shy of the Ironmourn Desert, the land of the Wildkins.

Alex studied the route in silence, his eyes scanning the map multiple times, brow furrowed in deep thought — a detail that didn’t escape the three powerhouses watching him.

A silence settled in the room.

Then, Alex suddenly spoke, his tone unconsciously tinged with urgency.

"When was the last time the forest’s periphery was culled?"

"Three months ago," Lord Marshal Derek replied, his voice calm and controlled — quiet enough not to interrupt Alex’s thoughts, yet clear enough to be heard.

"...Then it doesn’t make sense," Alex muttered. "Unless..."

He looked back up from the map, brow tightening further.

"This force being sent in... what’s its strength?" he finally asked.

But then, realising he had slipped into command tone, he snapped out of it and straightened, nodding respectfully to the room.

"Apologies. I—"

"No matter, Young Master Alex," Lord Marshal Derek interrupted gently.

Jared, ever the stoic, showed no reaction. Earl Drake, however, wore a faint, knowing smile.

"The force is a platoon composed mostly of mid- to peak-beginner rank troops," Derek said. "They’re led by officers at the Intermediate rank."

"No Elite-rank support?"

"No. We don’t have the luxury of allocating soldiers of that calibre right now."

’Most likely because of the Wildkin threat and the Killerman tension,’ Alex reasoned silently. But he held his tongue — he had already spoken more than his standing allowed.

The Marshal was only indulging him because of Earl Drake’s presence.

"Alright," Alex said solemnly. "I’ll take the mission."

"Good." Prepared for the answer, the Lord Marshal handed him a small, rune-inscribed emblem. "This will grant you command rights over the platoon."

Alex accepted it with a nod.

It was then that Earl Drake spoke.

"Since this is your first military operation, I’ve assigned someone to act as your adjutant."

Alex’s brow rose slightly. "...Who?"

"Don’t worry. It’s someone you know," Earl Drake replied, voice calm but unreadable.

For some reason, that only made Alex feel more uneasy.

Sensing his discomfort, Earl Drake added, "This is something you need to experience — and learn to handle — if you intend to one day stand where I do."

Alex wanted to question his father. Desperately. But to do so here — in front of the Lord Marshal and Jared — would be a breach of decorum and tantamount to an affront to the Family Head’s authority.

So, he bit back his urge, swallowed his questions, and gave a quiet nod.

Then he turned and left the office to meet the platoon now under his command.

Once Alex left, the smirk on Earl Drake’s face widened, playful glee dancing in his eyes.

"Are you sure about this, my Lord?" Lord Marshal Derek asked. "They aren’t exactly on the best of terms after what happened the last time they met."

Earl Drake replied with a dismissive wave.

"The boy said he’d take my position someday soon. If he means it, then one of the first things he has to learn is how to turn enemies into allies.

"If he can’t do that over something this minor, how does he expect to survive on the grand stage?"

The Lord Marshal frowned. "Aren’t you concerned it could compromise the mission? He could be killed."

"Don’t worry. The boy’s not that useless," Drake said with a confident snort. "He’ll manage—so long as those old things at the heart of the forest don’t start moving."

Still, despite his words, a frown crept onto his face.

Jared, silent until now, finally spoke.

"Should I follow him, my Lord?"

"...Do it." Earl Drake nodded after a pause. "But do not interfere unless he draws the attention of those old things at the forest’s core. If they do move... report back immediately."

"By your orders." Jared bowed and exited the room at once.

Drake leaned back slightly and asked, "Do you think the boy noticed?"

"He definitely did," Derek said. "I believe we’ll see a good result from this expedition."

"Good result, yes. But it might not be good news," Drake murmured.

"Indeed," the Lord Marshal agreed with a grim nod.

-

When Alex arrived at the encampment where his assigned platoon was housed... and laid eyes on the person sent to ’aid’ him—

He almost choked.

’Damn you, Drake! Kill me yourself, why don’t you?’

**

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