Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 112: Soldier Of Albion

30 years ago.

The sky stretched in all directions like an infinite canvas of gold and blue, the cold wind of the high altitude biting at the riders.

A young Maria soared through the open air on the back of her wyvern, her long, raven-black hair trailing behind her like a streamer of ink on the canvas of the sky.

She laughed joyfully, the sound echoing around her as she rolled and twisted, the creature beneath her responding to her commands, the bond between them strong.

Behind her, another wyvern roared in challenge, wings beating furiously to catch up.

"You'll have to do better than that, Bella!" she called, grinning over her shoulder.

"Don't call me that!" Came the indignant reply from her elder brother, Bellamy, who at twenty, was already the pride of the Tribe of Three.

Taller than most, with enough muscles to back up every threat he made, he looked comfortable on his equally large wyvern, an expected situation for a Druid.

"Oh, come now, Bella!" Maria teased her brother, doing a barrel roll that made Bellamy curse and pull his wyvern to the side to avoid a dive.

She was able to catch the smile on his face. For all his words of protest, he enjoyed these games as much as he did.

"Try to keep up!" She yelled, rising higher. Bellamy shot after her, his wyvern roaring as it flew.

For several more minutes, they chased each other through the skies, dodging imaginary spears and shooting blunted arrows at each other. Maria laughed, jinking to the side. A second later, she frowned. Bellamy hadn't followed her.

She looked back, flying to join Bellamy whose wyvern hovered in the sky, beating its wings. He squinted, having spotted something on the horizon.

"Maria!" He called, serious now.

She pulled her wyvern alongside his, following his gaze. In the far distance, a column of soldiers was moving through the valley below, their green and gold banners fluttering in the wind.

"That's them." Bellamy said. "The delegation from Albion. Come on. Let's go back."

They wheeled their wyverns around and soared back toward home, wings slicing through the sky.

A minute later, they arrived at the settlement, slowing as they got to the giant hole in the ground that was the entrance to their familiars' homes.

The moment they landed, Maria hopped off her wyvern, trusting it to take care of itself as she absorbed all energy remaining in it, returning it to its base state.

She didn't stay for anything else, rushing up the steps back to the surface of the settlement, Bellamy following behind her.

By the time they got to the surface of the settlement, the Tribe of Three were already preparing, the tribe's scouts having seen the soldiers before they did and reported back.

Hunters, Druids, and warriors moved to their positions, preparing to receive the outsiders in the event of an attack. The Albion men were coming for diplomatic reasons but there was no telling if it could turn into something else,

Maria's eyes sparkled as she jogged to the main longhouse at the base of the Green Tree that stood at the centre of their settlement, looking around for their father, Chief Ilyan.

"You're staying behind, you know." Bellamy said, pointing a stern finger at her as they arrived in front of the longhouse, where the receiving party was already gathering.

"Oh please." Maria huffed, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "Like I'm going to miss the first time Albion sends soldiers to our doorstep."

"Father will have my head if he sees you."

"Then maybe don't let him see me."

Bellamy groaned, but it was too late. She was already slipping into the crowd, careful to stay out of their father's sight.

Their father stepped out and with a word, began leading his people. Before long, the receiving party was gathered outside the gates, standing tall.

Maria couldn't help the smile on her face as she looked around her. The Tribe of Three were proud and wild people, dressed in leathers and furs, some with war paint streaked across their faces.

Whatever happened, she'd rather have them at her side than the soldiers of Albion.

After minutes of waiting, the soldiers arrived, arranged in a rigid formation, their armor gleaming under the light of the sun.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Riding at the front was a tall, stern man with a gray cloak draped over one shoulder, a sword sheathed at his hip. His face was blank, his green eyes cold, as if he had never felt an ounce of emotion in his life. Maria almost shivered from looking at it.

"I am Lord Ross, representative of His Majesty, King Henry of Albion." The man said, dismounting from his horse. "We come in peace to discuss matters of trade and territory."

Chief Ilyan stepped forward, looking fierce with the bear skin cloak around his shoulders. He nodded. "Then let us talk. Only you and your guards will be permitted inside."

Lord Ross gave a curt nod, and only a handful of guards dismounted to follow him into the gates.

One of them was a young man not much older than Maria, armored like the rest, looking very much like Lord Ross. His brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, his green eyes staring straight ahead.

Maria, keeping behind the crowd, frowned as she spotted him immediately. She did nothing, following as the soldiers and their lord were escorted to the centre of the settlement.

When they reached the Chief's longhouse, most of the adults disappeared inside, leaving the younger tribe guards outside.

From the soldiers of Albion, only the green-eyed soldier stayed by the entrance, standing at ease but alert.

A grin stretched on Maria's face as she stepped up to him. It'll be fun to mess with the outsider.

"So," she said brightly, "are you the strong, silent type or just incredibly boring?"

The young man didn't even glance at her.

She leaned closer, peering into his face with a mock squint. "Stone-faced too. Are all Albion soldiers carved from rock or are you special?"

No reply.

"No smile, no frown, nothing. I've seen trees with more personality." She grinned, glancing at the Green Tree. It literally had a personality.

Still silence.

She tilted her head, feigning pity. "Oh no. You're not cursed, are you? Did a witch steal your tongue? Should I help you look for it?"

His eyes flicked to her just once. "If you're trying to provoke me, it won't work." He said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Maria blinked, impressed. "Oh, you're good."

Still no change in his expression.

"You look like a statue. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yes."

She folded her arms. "So you do answer questions."

"When it serves a purpose."

Maria's brow lifted. "You're a tough one. What's your name, statue?"

His green eyes finally met hers. "Abram Ross."

Maria grinned. "Well then, Abram Ross. You've officially survived your first encounter with Maria of the Tribe of Three."

Abram didn't react, so she stepped closer, hands behind her back. "Tell me, do all Albion soldiers act and look like you? I couldn't tell with all the helmets they had on."

He blinked once. "I wouldn't know." He said flatly. "I don't make a habit of admiring soldiers."

He wasn't trying to be funny but Maria still burst out laughing, her voice like bells in the quiet afternoon. "Oh, I like you."

She grinned as she circled slowly around him, grinning like a bird of prey. "Oh, we're going to have a lot of fun."