Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 420: The Prelude Before The War

Chapter 420: The Prelude Before The War

The morning sun had barely crested over the horizon when Lyan stirred awake. The air in the guest mansion was cool, the faint scent of dew drifting in through the open windows. He blinked, adjusting to the soft light that filtered in, and turned his head to the side. Alina, Belle, and Xena were still fast asleep, curled comfortably into the cushions of the bed. Their faces looked peaceful, and Lyan couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Last night had been... intense, but also comforting. A moment of warmth before the storm that awaited them.

Slowly, he slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake them. The morning was far too important for them to rest idly. He took a moment to straighten his clothes, then moved silently towards the door. His companions needed rest, but he had to start preparing. Today was the day they all knew was coming. The day when words and plans would be replaced with steel and magic.

After making his way through the corridor, Lyan entered the main room where several others had already gathered. Wilhelmina, Alice, Raine, and the rest of the mountain tribe women were there, their expressions serious. The air was heavy with the anticipation of what lay ahead, and Lyan took a deep breath, centering himself.

"Morning," he said, his voice soft but carrying an edge of determination. The others looked up, nodding in acknowledgment.

Wilhelmina was the first to speak, her eyes steady as they met his. "We need to finalize the tasks for today," she said. "Everyone has a role to play if we’re going to come out of this in one piece."

Lyan nodded, his gaze sweeping across each of them. "I know. Let’s make sure we’re ready for anything," he said. One by one, he assigned them tasks—Alice and the mountain tribe women would provide support to the supply units, helping organize and distribute essentials for the battle. Emilia and Surena were tasked with coordinating with the scouts to keep track of enemy movements. The rest of them, including Raine and Ravia, were to stay close, forming part of Lyan’s vanguard team.

Once the instructions were given, Lyan took a step back, a sense of pride welling up within him. These women had chosen to follow him, to support him in what could be the toughest battle of their lives. Each one of them was capable, and each had a place in his heart. Today, they were more than just warriors—they were family.

After giving his orders, Lyan took the time to speak with each of his companions individually. He found Belle first, her eyes glimmering with both determination and worry. "You’ll be careful, won’t you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Lyan smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face.

"I will," he promised, his voice warm. "And you too. Remember, we’re all in this together. We fight for each other."

Belle nodded, her eyes softening. She leaned into him, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. They stayed like that for a moment, sharing the silence, the warmth. Then Lyan moved on, speaking with Xena, who was busy sharpening her weapon, and Alina, who gave him a look that said she wasn’t about to let anything happen to him without a fight.

With each farewell, Lyan felt the bonds between them grow stronger. It was these bonds that would carry them through the battle, that would keep them moving forward even in the darkest moments. As he finished speaking with the last of them, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. A servant entered, bowing slightly.

"Baron Evocatore," the servant said, "Prince Erich requests your presence."

Lyan nodded, giving his companions a final glance before following the servant out. He knew what this was about—a last-minute meeting with the prince to finalize the strategy, to make sure everyone was on the same page. The corridor seemed longer than usual as they made their way to the room where Erich waited. When Lyan stepped inside, he found Erich already standing by the window, his back turned to the room.

"Will," Lyan called, using the prince’s old alias. Erich turned, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Lyan," he greeted, his voice soft. "Thank you for coming. I wanted to discuss a few things before we move out."

Erich gestured to the table, where a map was laid out. He stepped forward, pointing to a marked location. "The Eastern Pass will be our main choke point. But if things go wrong, I have a group of elite soldiers stationed here." He tapped a hidden valley marked on the map, his expression serious. "They’re to act as a contingency—a last line of defense if Varzadia somehow pushes us back."

Lyan studied the map, nodding slowly. "It’s a solid plan," he said. "But let’s hope we don’t need them."

Erich gave a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Indeed. But we must be ready for anything. I just wanted you to know, in case... well, in case we need to fall back."

Lyan met Erich’s gaze, a look of understanding passing between them. "We won’t fall," Lyan said, his voice filled with conviction. "Not today."

Erich nodded, his eyes hardening. "Let’s make sure of that."

Once their conversation ended, the servant led Lyan out, this time toward a small courtyard at the center of the castle. He could hear the faint murmur of prayers as they approached, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The courtyard was dimly lit by a series of torches, the flames flickering against the stone walls. A group of priests stood in a circle, their heads bowed, their hands raised in prayer. At the center of the circle stood Arnold and Prince Erich, their expressions solemn.

The head priest raised his gaze as Lyan approached, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You must be Baron Evocatore," he said, his voice gentle. "Please, step forward."

Lyan obeyed, stepping into the circle. The air seemed to grow heavier as he did, the murmurs of the priests growing louder. He could feel the energy shifting around him, a strange warmth settling in his chest. Arnold caught his eye, giving him a nod of reassurance.

The head priest began to speak, his voice carrying over the courtyard. "Today, we call upon the divine to bless these brave souls who stand before us. To grant them strength, courage, and the will to protect our land from those who seek to destroy it."

The priests moved closer, their hands outstretched, their voices rising in unison. Lyan closed his eyes, allowing the warmth to wash over him, to seep into his bones. It was unlike anything he had ever felt—a gentle yet powerful presence, as if something far greater than himself was watching over him.

(You’re getting all worked up over a blessing?)

Cynthia’s voice echoed in his mind, her tone teasing. Lyan smirked slightly but kept his eyes closed.

(Quiet, Cynthia. Even I can appreciate a little divine intervention when it’s needed.)

(Ah, you’re no fun, Lyan.)

As the ritual continued, the warmth in Lyan’s chest spread, filling every part of him. He could feel the power of the blessing settling in, strengthening him, sharpening his senses. When the priests finally stepped back, their voices fading into silence, Lyan opened his eyes. He felt different—more grounded, more focused. He looked to Arnold, who gave him a small smile, and to Erich, whose eyes were filled with determination.

The head priest spoke again, his voice soft. "May the divine watch over you, and may your strength bring us victory."

Lyan nodded, his gaze steady. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He turned to Erich and Arnold, a sense of unity filling him. They were ready—as ready as they could be.

Once the blessing ceremony was over, it was time to address his vanguard. Lyan stood before the assembled soldiers, his gaze moving over each of them. These were the men and women who would fight beside him, who would trust him to lead them into battle. He took a deep breath, his voice calm as he spoke.

"I won’t make this long," he began, his eyes meeting theirs. "You know why we’re here. You know what we’re fighting for. We’re the vanguard, the tip of the spear. Our job is to disrupt the enemy, to make sure they don’t see what’s coming. And we will do it together."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across them. "You are the best of the best. I trust you with my life, just as you trust me with yours. Let’s go out there and show Varzadia what it means to face Astellians." He raised his fist, his voice rising. "For Astellia!"

The soldiers responded in kind, their voices echoing across the camp. "For Astellia!"

With that, they moved out, Lyan leading the way as they made their way to their assigned position. The sun was rising now, the first rays of light piercing through the clouds, casting a golden glow over the plains. Lyan’s vanguard moved swiftly, their movements silent, their eyes focused. They had a mission, and they were ready to see it through.