"A reward?"
Ophelia blinked in surprise. To be honest, she had never even considered the possibility of receiving a reward. While it was common practice to grant rewards after a victory, her past status as a princess had always placed her on the giving end of such gestures, never the receiving one. As a princess, her position was already exalted enough, her life luxurious beyond measure—and besides, material rewards had never held much appeal for her. Thus, she had almost no experience of being on the receiving end of such favors. But now, hearing Black's words, her heart skipped a beat uncontrollably. She couldn't tell if it was due to nervousness or something else entirely.
"That's right," Black nodded, then continued.
"Since you are my adjutant, it stands to reason that you should have a personal retinue under your command... These orcs may not be the strongest warriors around, but they are far from weak. Today's battle has proven your abilities to each other. So starting tomorrow, these orc mercenaries are yours to command."
"Huh?"
Ophelia's eyes flew wide open in astonishment.
She knew exactly what Black meant.
"Lord Black... You mean I... I can..."
"You still have much to learn," Black shrugged, then smiled. In truth, he had long understood Ophelia's predicament. As a latecomer, she had always struggled to fit in with the others—and a large part of that stemmed from the vast gap in power and influence between her and the rest. Judy led the Spectral Guard, whose members all possessed knight-level strength. Charlotte commanded a specialized combat unit; while their direct combat power was negligible, their asymmetric warfare capabilities were formidable. In contrast, Ophelia was all alone. Of course, nominally she was Black's adjutant—she could relay his orders, or act on his behalf to mobilize these forces. But Ophelia was once a princess, with a great deal of pride. She would never stoop to "borrowing someone else's authority" to get things done.
What's more, even if she were willing, it was far from certain that the spectral warriors would obey her. These specters hailed from the Age of Chaos, each a top-tier talent from one of the great powers of the time. Beyond their strength and status, their bloodlines were also of the highest nobility. Charlotte was the heir to one of the most influential ancient alchemical families on the continent; Judy herself was once a princess of a kingdom. The others were no less distinguished—the lowest among them was the daughter of a duke. Thus, they were willing to treat Ophelia as an equal. But if she ever tried to command or control them, they would undoubtedly resist.
They obeyed Black not only out of the compulsion of their contracts, but also out of a mixture of feminine attachment and recognition of his overwhelming strength. Ophelia, however, possessed none of these qualities. While her shadow affinity made her a natural nemesis to specters, in their eyes, this was nothing more than an innate talent—one that required no effort to obtain, and thus unworthy of true respect. To them, respect was something that had to be earned through hard work and dedication alone. Furthermore, there was a strict hierarchy of seniority among them. These specters had fought alongside Black, loyally serving him, long before Ophelia was even born. She was merely a newly awakened spectral soul—a novice with no right to lord over them.
But without her own power base, Ophelia would never be able to stand on equal footing with them, and the rift between them would never be bridged. Thus, to prevent internal strife, Black had devised this plan. These mercenaries had been prepared specifically for Ophelia from the very beginning. While they now possessed mid-tier strength, they were still far too weak to meet Judy's high standards—and thus unsuitable for her command. But for Ophelia, they were perfect. That was why he had gone to great lengths to recruit them, even ordering Charlotte and the others to provide these mercenaries with the finest equipment and opportunities to enhance their strength. He did not expect them to ever reach the level of the spectral warriors, but he at least wanted them to be competent enough to hold their own.
And today's battle had been yet another test Black had prepared in advance. He needed to see for himself Ophelia's ability to command troops and control the battlefield, as well as her mental fortitude under pressure, before making his final decision. If she had disappointed him, he would have had no choice but to send the former princess back to Duskwood, assigning her to administrative duties as a governor, and barring her from ever interfering in military matters again. As for these mercenaries, they would have been used to bolster the defenses of the City of Heroes, as Black had originally told Ophelia—and then discarded once they outlived their usefulness.
But now, Ophelia had passed his test with flying colors. Which meant that this long-prepared gift was finally hers to receive.
"I understand, Lord Black."
Though Ophelia knew nothing of Black's ulterior motives, a look of obvious relief and joy spread across her face as she heard his words. Just as Black had suspected, the pressure of serving as his adjutant had weighed heavily on her shoulders. Judy and Charlotte were far too close to Black for her to order them around. Even during today's battle, she had had to speak to Charlotte in a tone of polite request—not because Charlotte and the others were arrogant or insubordinate, but because Ophelia was well aware that she was not their true master.
But now—she had her own personal retinue?
The news instantly chased away all traces of exhaustion from Ophelia's body, filling her with immense excitement and joy. In that moment, her mind began racing with plans: how to maximize the combat potential of this unit, how to win over and communicate with these orcs... These thoughts swirled in her head, her heart swelling with newfound purpose.
"I will do my utmost to live up to your expectations, Lord Black. I will not let you down."
With a joyful smile, Ophelia solemnly vowed to Black.
The battle in the river valley ended with a resounding victory for Black. Originally, he had intended to use this mission as an opportunity to make contact with the Sith forces, hoping to lure out their commander. But now that Sidvi had taken the initiative to seek him out, his original plan had become unnecessary. Thus, after resting at the battlefield for half a day, he led his troops back to the fortress, and at the same time, requested an audience with General Celt.
When the guards reported Black's request for a meeting, Celt was genuinely surprised. To be honest, ever since Black and his party had left the fortress, he had issued strict orders to the sentries at the gates to keep a close eye on their movements, ordering them to report immediately if they returned. Especially after the guards had spotted the towering flames rising from the depths of the river valley the previous night, Celt had already guessed that Black had likely succeeded in his mission. He had even given additional orders to the patrols, instructing them to report any sign of Black and his men at once. Yet despite all his precautions, Black had still managed to slip back into the fortress undetected. Celt could not for the life of him fathom how Black had led a whole unit past his watchful eyes, entering the fortress completely unnoticed.
Unable to figure it out, Celt simply pushed the matter aside, then ordered Black to be shown into his chambers at once.
As Black stepped back into the room, Celt observed that he looked no different from before—no trace of the weariness of travel, no signs of relaxation after a hard-fought battle. The young man was still dressed in the same immaculate attire, as clean and spotless as if he had just stepped out of a bath.
"General Celt," Black greeted the elderly man with a graceful half-bow.
"I have returned, and the mission is complete."
"As expected of you, Mr. Black," Celt's face instantly relaxed into a smile of relief.
"I knew you would not fail me."
"This victory is not entirely my doing," Black was quick to deflect credit, showing no inclination to take all the glory for himself.
"In truth, a great deal of the credit for our success today belongs to Miss Ophelia."
"You mean the prin... that young lady?" Celt blinked in surprise. He was getting on in years, and prided himself on being a practical man with no great imagination—but try as he might, he could not picture the young lady, who had always seemed so far removed from matters of war, playing any significant role in such a dangerous military operation. He had only ever heard of her exceptional political acumen—could it be that the former princess also possessed remarkable military talent?
"But how is the fortress faring?" Black had no intention of elaborating further. He merely smiled and changed the subject. Unable to press the issue, Celt had no choice but to answer his question.
"The situation is quite good. A few days ago, we launched our maximum-effort offensive against the Cyclops raiders, killing over seventy of them. I believe that was the full extent of their ability to harass our supply lines. If you have truly eliminated their main encampment, then these monsters should no longer pose any threat to us whatsoever."
"That is a great relief," Black nodded with a smile—but Celt failed to catch the fleeting glint of triumph in his eyes.
"And what are your plans now, General?"
"Simple—we will consolidate our defenses and reorganize our forces," Celt spread his hands, but there was an unmistakable look of worry etched on his face.
"Actually, Mr. Black, there is another, far more troublesome problem that remains unresolved. If you would be so kind as to lend me your assistance..."
Celt's words trailed off abruptly as a messenger burst into the room in a flurry, his face pale with urgency as he reported to Celt.
"Reporting, sir! They've come again!"
"They've come again?" Celt's brows furrowed instantly. He pressed his hands down on the desk, rising to his feet with a heavy sigh.
"I see. I will handle this matter personally."
With that, Celt looked up at Black, his gaze earnest.
"Mr. Black, I would be most grateful if you would accompany me."