Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points! - Chapter 194

Chapter 194: Heart Burdened With Desire
The training grounds of the Bloodbane Empire’s capital buzzed with the clamor of war preparations, a cacophony of clanging steel, barked orders, and the rhythmic thud of boots on packed earth.

The late afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows across the sprawling courtyard, where knights in polished armor drilled in precise formations, their shields glinting like mirrors.

Supply wagons groaned under the weight of iron-forged weapons, barrels of black powder, and crates of provisions, while squires darted between them, their faces flushed with the urgency of the impending Akerian campaign.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat, leather, and the faint metallic tang of oiled blades, a prelude to the bloodshed that loomed two days ahead.

At the heart of this controlled chaos stood Imperial Marshal Seraphine Valebright, her polished armor gleaming under the sun, its new engravings of coiling dragons catching the light.

Her golden hair was pulled back in a tight braid, a single rebellious strand clinging to her sweat-dampened forehead.

Her sapphire eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were unfocused, staring past the knights sparring before her, lost in a haze that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.

Her gauntleted hand rested on the hilt of her longsword, fingers twitching as if seeking an anchor, while her other hand clutched a parchment scroll of troop deployments, its edges crumpling under her grip.

“Marshal!” a young knight called, his voice cutting through the din as he approached, his shield emblazoned with the Valebright crest.

“The Third Cohort’s ready for inspection. Shall I summon them?”

Seraphine blinked, her head jerking slightly as if startled from a dream.

Her eyes snapped to the knight, wide and momentarily panicked, before she calmed herself to hide her unease.

“I—yes, of course… L—line them up. I’ll be there shortly.”

She said, her voice clipped, a touch too sharp.

She waved the scroll dismissively, though her fingers trembled.

The knight hesitated, his brow furrowing as he studied her. “Are you… all right, Marshal? You seem lost in thought—”

“I’m fine!”

She snapped, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. A mix of irritation and embarrassment.

“I’m not thinking anything, so don’t ask silly questions! Go, now!”

“U—understood, ma’am!”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she turned away, her braid swinging as she pretended to study the scroll, though her gaze remained unfocused.

The knight bowed, his expression puzzled, and hurried off, casting a glance over his shoulder.

Across the courtyard, General Kael paused mid-conversation with a quartermaster, his weathered face creasing as he watched Seraphine.

“She’s been like that all day… Spacing out, jumping like a spooked horse. Something’s eating at her.”

He muttered, his gravelly voice low, his hand twitching on his sword hilt.

Nearby, Sir Gareth, the older knight, sighed and leaned against a supply crate, polishing his gauntlet. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he followed Kael’s gaze.

“Aye, it’s not like her. She’s usually sharper than a freshly forged blade. You think it’s the war? Or… something personal?”

Kael grunted, his fingers drumming on his pommel.

“War’s nothing new to her. This is… different.”

“Well, I’d advise you keep an eye on her, lad. She’s clearly carrying more than troop lists today.”

Seraphine, oblivious to their scrutiny, paced toward the edge of the courtyard, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust.

Her scroll dangled forgotten in her hand, her thoughts a tangled storm.

‘Focus, Seraphine!’

She told herself, her lips pressing into a thin line.

‘The emperor trusts you to lead. You can’t falter now.’

But her mind betrayed her, drifting to that scene, his pair of emerald eyes, a silver-streaked mane, and a voice that carried the weight of the empire as he made love to the head Priestess.

Her breath hitched, and she shook her head violently, her braid whipping against her armor.

‘No, no, no, no! Stop it. Such thoughts are… scandalous. I am his sword!’

“Marshal Seraphine!” a new voice called, pulling her from her spiral.

She turned, her eyes widening as Sir Roland, her father’s right-hand knight, approached.

His dark red hair was streaked with gray, his face, albeit weathered, was kind, his armor bearing the Valebright crest with pride.

He moved with the easy confidence of a seasoned warrior, his smile broad as he stopped before her, resting a hand on his sword hilt.

“It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

Seraphine’s tension eased slightly, her lips twitching into a hesitant smile.

“Roland,” she said, her voice softening. “It has. I… didn’t expect to see you here.” She tucked the scroll under her arm, her gauntleted hand brushing nervously at her braid, a gesture that felt oddly girlish in her armor.

Roland chuckled, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Your father’s kept me busy, but I couldn’t miss the war preparations. Or a chance to see you. The star of the Valebrights, also congratulations on your promotion to Imperial Marshal.”

She smiled warmly, but with a bit of pride.

“Thank you.”

He gestured to the bustling courtyard, his own smile turning nostalgic.

“Ah, there’s that expression I remember well. Remember when we were children, sneaking into the training yard to spar with wooden swords? You always bested me, even then. You’d wear this same devious smile, and all the knights would call you little sword devil.”

Seraphine’s smile disappeared, a rare look of mild annoyance appearing in her eyes.

“There you go calling me that again, I told you I don’t like it. Besides, back then, it was because you let me always win that started.”

He chuckled weakly, lifting his hands halfway in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Do forgive me, simply recalling memory, it was a golden part of my childhood. Besides, I believe you should be proud of that name; it was proof you were a prodigy.”

Her gaze turned sharp. “You let me win, Roland. You let me win,” she said, intense for a moment before she sighed.

She relaxed her stance, her armor clinking faintly as she shifted her weight. “I’d swing wildly, and you’d trip just in time. Father scolded you for it, but you never stopped.”

Roland laughed, a deep, hearty sound that drew curious glances from nearby knights. “Guilty again,” he admitted. “But you were fierce, even at ten. Still are.”