One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 88
It was a question that felt a little out of place.
“Yeah. Why, are you getting nervous now?”
The Marquis of Hessiden responded, lacing his words with a hint of sarcasm.
“You need to know exactly what your goals are. That way, there won’t be any trouble getting things done.”
The Marquis nodded in agreement at the smooth response—there was no hesitation. Still, something about it made him feel uneasy.
Even if his instincts told him otherwise, the man couldn’t afford to betray them now. Just in case… they’d need to keep a close watch.
“No foolish tricks will work. Remember that.”
He paused, then added with a quiet warning,
“Don’t worry. You’re not going to die just because you’re tied to a leash.”
That answer was good enough. For now.
“We’ll wait for the report. Let’s not rush anything.”
At that time, the person Aileen trusted the most—besides herself—was Piel. Naturally, he became the one she relied on.
But even so, Carlisle felt uneasy, as though he were being pursued by something. He promised himself that he’d finish clearing the mine under his command as fast as possible—so he could reach Aileen sooner.
He left only after taking a final glance at Aileen, who was smiling and chatting with the knights in her group.
Meanwhile, just as Aileen was feeling satisfied with how things had turned out, there was one person who couldn’t hide his displeasure.
It was Haller.
“Sir Boris, looks like we’re in the same group. Let’s do our best.”
The man speaking was from the Knights of the Order of Lil. He had been one of the knights who had troubled Aileen alongside Haller during their last encounter.
Haller furrowed his brows and responded stiffly, clearly holding back his irritation.
“…Let’s try hard.”
Then, the knight hurried away, as if afraid he might attract more attention.
He vanished so quickly that I couldn’t even catch what he was muttering under his breath.
“Boris, you must be really nervous. You’ve been acting strange ever since you left.”
Haller slipped into a quiet spot where few people were around. After checking that no one was eavesdropping, he pulled a communication device from inside his cloak.
“Your Majesty, it’s been decided. We have a concrete plan.”
“Explain.”
Haller flexed and relaxed his fists a few times, trying to stay calm before continuing.
“As I mentioned earlier, we’ll be dividing our troops into three mines.”
“And?”
“Aileen Revart and Count Avergue have been placed in separate groups. I’m in the same group as Count Avergue.”
“I suppose there wasn’t much you could’ve done. It was outside your control.”
The Marquis of Hessiden, who might have been expected to react with anger, instead responded in a surprisingly calm tone, as if he understood the situation. Haller replied cautiously, hiding a flicker of relief.
“Thank you for your understanding. Count Avergue and his aide made the assignment independently. I had no influence over the decision.”
“Still… isn’t it a little too convenient that you and Avergue ended up in the same group?”
Haller’s back stiffened. He couldn’t afford to show it, but that suspicion hit exactly where it hurt.
“It’s purely coincidence. He hasn’t even looked at me.”
“I’ll trust you—for now. Share the full plan.”
As if he had been waiting for those words, Haller launched into a detailed report of the battle strategy he had received from Carlisle and Piel.
When he finished, a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of the Marquis of Hessiden’s lips.
The sky was clear. The knights stood in formation, their faces tense with anticipation.
“…That’s all. I’ll conclude the briefing here.”
Piel wrapped up his short explanation, and Carlisle—who had been standing silently just behind—stepped forward.
“I hope everyone does their best. That’s all.”
At his words, the knights immediately scattered, heading toward their assigned mines.
Aileen rode behind Piel. After winding through several narrow paths, the mine she was to guard finally came into view.
The walls were even larger than she expected—twice the height of a grown man and spanning a wide perimeter around the mine entrance.
Following Piel through the large gate, Aileen was surprised at how much wider it was inside than it appeared from the outside.
“Impressive, right? It’s like a small town was moved here,” Piel said with a smile. “I still find it surprising every time I come.”
He gave his usual nonchalant shrug, and Aileen nodded in agreement.
The place really did feel like a miniature fortress. There were enough facilities for miners to sleep in, and places where stationed soldiers could rest.
“Let’s take a short break and get ready.”
But the moment they thought they had time to rest, everything changed. Aileen and the other knights were soon gripping their swords, eyes wide with urgency.
“Were you just waiting nearby this whole time? How else could you attack so fast?”
“The scouts didn’t find anything. This is a disaster.”
Knights across the field were already swinging their blades at the warriors of the Furat tribe, unleashing their rage over the sudden ambush.
The northern barbarians had attacked instantly—almost as if they’d been lying in wait.
With no chance to rest, the knights were forced to fight back, pouring all their frustration into the battle.
“Those damn bastards.”
Niar muttered, blocking a sword swung by one of the northern immigrants. Aileen smiled slightly as she struck back at the blade aimed at her.
It was easier than she expected. The ones lunging at her with half-hearted swings—almost like they were just testing her—seemed suspicious. But according to Piel, that kind of shallow provocation wasn’t uncommon. It happened regularly.
Still, when she was sent into the third wave of battle, a vague sense of unease began to grow.
Just like the first and second engagements, the Furats attacked boldly. But this time… something felt off.
“Huh. You’re pretty good.”
One of the northern immigrants approached as if specifically targeting Aileen. After clashing swords several times, he let out a surprised chuckle.
“All the ones I’ve fought so far went down after a few swings.”
Naturally, Aileen felt insulted. The way he spoke made it sound like he was looking down on her.
“I don’t know if you’re in any position to judge me.”
She sneered and slashed diagonally. As if to challenge her again, he responded with a heavy vertical strike.
Clang!
Their blades met with weight and force. This man was no mere soldier—he fought like a knight. A true warrior.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his swordplay was clearly different from the usual Furat fighting style. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there—something refined.
“What tribe are you from?” she asked.
“I’m a Furat.”
“Don’t lie.”
“Oh no. They already figured it out.”
How could he admit it so casually? It was so ridiculous, she nearly forgot they were still fighting.
Aileen played along and tossed out the name of the most skilled and warlike northern tribe she could think of.
“Nitou tribe?”
“Oh? You guessed it. Impressive.”
Was that really true? Or was he just trying to confuse her?
Even though she smiled, suspicion crept in. Something about this man wasn’t normal—her instincts told her that.
And the Nitou… weren’t they the very tribe led by Santinu, the chieftain of the northern tribal alliance?
Aileen examined his face closely. He had a cheeky grin, nothing memorable—but that made it all the more unsettling.
Brown hair. Brown eyes. Plain. Almost too plain. Still, she etched his image into memory.
“I didn’t expect the Nitou tribe to show up.”
“Well, this battle must be pretty important to our side too.”
“…Then you really are a northern immigrant?”
“That’s true. But hey, not all of us think the same way, right?”
Clang! Clang!
Their swords kept clashing, but their strange conversation didn’t stop.
Aileen focused—both her blade and her words sharp—as she tried to glean as much information as possible from this odd yet talkative opponent.
But it didn’t last long.
“Ow—my wrist hurts. Guess I’ll run away now.”
“…What?”
“It was fun, Sir Aileen. See you next time.”
He gave a light wave and disappeared into the crowd in an instant.
What on earth was that?
“Big, big, big—fix it!”
There was no time to breathe. The northern immigrants who had been fighting began to retreat… slowly at first, and then in full panic.
And in their place, Monsters appeared.