He had no interest in figuring out how to slip past lines of soldiers, ranks of knights, and layer after layer of walls just to reach Godrick.
A Lord deserved a Lord's death.
Whether it was himself or Godrick, the same held true.
It was easy enough for the Promised Consort to think that way, but Godrick probably had not even noticed that such a troublemaker had appeared within his territory.
If Godrick's army truly marched here right now, Nolan would be the one forced to retreat with his men. The weak one was Godrick himself, not Stormveil Castle.
Among all the strongholds in the Lands Between, perhaps only Leyndell could surpass that fortress.
And before all of this, Godwyn had ruled there for many years. The army under his command was far from weak.
"If they attack us, that's one thing. But the other villages barely have any guards."
"What if they start burning and looting in the other villages? The locals won't be able to stop them."
Nepheli spoke with concern.
"No need to worry too much. They like pretending to be bandits, but they're not real bandits."
Nolan spoke softly. A gentle light flickered in his blue-green eyes.
"What use would a field of ruins be to them?"
Nepheli froze for a moment. The faint worry lingering in her heart melted away the instant she met his gaze.
Of course.
The lord of this land was a great hero. A man so powerful he inspired awe even before obtaining a Finger Maiden.
In this complicated world, most people carried within them a longing for a distant brilliance, like the radiant light of a towering tree.
But the truth was simple. Those who could become the blazing sun were already shining.
When night quietly fell, the stillness along the walls was suddenly shattered by the sharp, urgent sound of a horn.
In an instant, tension spread across the fortress.
The enemy had arrived.
Fully armored, Nolan stepped onto the wall.
"What's happening?"
A soldier beside him immediately replied,
"My lord, troops carrying the banners of several noble houses have appeared to the south. By our estimate there are nearly a thousand of them, and they're almost here!"
At nearly the same moment, Nepheli and the others grabbed their weapons and hurried up to the walls.
During the brief exchange of greetings, Nolan had already begun studying the noble coalition gathering beneath the fortress.
Since marching out, the allied forces of the barons had not encountered any meaningful resistance. Their morale was high.
A thousand men stood outside the walls. For a skirmish between a few villages, assembling that many people was no small feat.
Aside from the cavalry riding tall warhorses and looking quite imposing, it was hard to spot many soldiers wearing heavy armor.
As for the so called militia, most of them wore tattered clothing and looked poor and disorganized.
Many waved wooden clubs and farming tools in their hands. Forget sharp iron weapons. Even proper metal gear was hard to find among them.
Nolan had long since seen the royal coalition armies of true kings. Compared to that, this scene did not stir the slightest emotion in him.
The wealth accumulated by the Morton family over generations had not even been enough to improve his strength by a single step.
So he spent it freely every day.
Among his own soldiers, not everyone wore plate armor, but most at least had chainmail.
Buying equipment naturally cost money.
Besides, spending the runes sitting around collecting dust also helped stimulate the local economy.
Although Nolan only had two hundred men, the difference in quality was obvious.
Even without the protection of walls, even if the battle took place out on open grassland, he could not imagine how he might lose.
Nolan turned his head slightly and swept his gaze across the people beside him.
Most of them showed signs of unease on their faces. The enemy's numbers had clearly shaken them.
Only Nepheli and Vyke showed no fear at all. Instead, they looked eager, their fighting spirit rising.
What did the bearing of a hero look like?
What did the presence of a future Lord look like?
The answer was right here.
An ordinary knight could not fight a thousand alone, but at the very least they were not afraid.
If a Finger Maiden were present, the two of them would likely rise rapidly in power.
Unfortunately, Nolan felt no interest at all in this army of a thousand.
The amount of runes he now required to grow stronger was enormous.
Only heroes, Demigods, and their Great Runes were worth his attention.
"Listen well, the people on those walls! I am Baron Will. I have come under the command of Count Luke to punish the Tarnished who dares defy his superiors."
"If you know what's good for you, surrender at once and hand over that Tarnished. Do that and your lives may be spared. Refuse, and once we break through your gates, we will slaughter every last one of you!"
Among the nobility of the Golden Dynasty, the ranks from highest to lowest were Duke, Marquis, Count, Viscount, and Baron.
In the Lands Between, a Count was already close to the highest title an ordinary person could reach.
Those above that rank were usually tied to Marika by blood in one way or another, and few of them held much real authority.
If one spoke of true power, only a handful of Demigods truly qualified.
This was likely the Queen's method of maintaining balance.
Count Luke was the leader of the Eleven Lords' Rebel Alliance.
Across this rebel territory, almost any noble could claim to be his subordinate.
"That damn bastard again! Let's go kill him!"
Nepheli was the first to step forward, her voice filled with fury.
The others turned to look at her, surprise written clearly on their faces.
Facing such a large army, even recklessness had to consider the situation.
They should learn from Lord Nolan beside her. The strongest among them, yet calm and unshaken.
"What should we do?"
Vyke, standing behind Nolan, finally spoke up.
"This battle is only a small test. Just hold the walls."
Nolan's reply was brief and decisive.
His calm voice seemed to steady everyone present, and many nodded in agreement.
With solid walls protecting them, there was no reason to rush out and fight the enemy head on.
At that moment, the sharp sound of a horn suddenly rang out in the distance, breaking the brief quiet.
Everyone's expressions changed as they quickly turned toward the source of the sound.
The baron's army was advancing.
The composition of the force looked rather crude. There were no golems, no war chariots, and not even the most basic catapults.
Most of the army consisted of ordinary militia, with the rest made up of somewhat better equipped knights.
The militia, meant to serve as expendable fodder, were pushed to the front. They trudged forward in tight ranks, slowly pressing toward the walls.
What awaited them was boiling oil pouring from above, crossbow bolts falling like rain, and heavy stones crashing down.
These militia lacked training and real combat experience. No one expected them to show much fighting ability.
In truth, they had simply been sent here to die.
Yet mixed among this mass of expendable soldiers were experienced armored warriors.
If someone managed to set up a ladder against the wall, those hidden elites would surge forward and try to tear open a gap in the defenses.
At Nolan's side, no one needed to guard him. Vyke and Nepheli had already led their men forward to fight.
Both were top tier knights. One thrust of the spear, one swing of the axe, and few soldiers could withstand them.