In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

As the morning sky began to tint with a faint red hue, the massive shadow of a dragon stretched across the castle walls.

A dragon with flame-like red scales flexed its muscular body and kicked off the ground, soaring into the sky.

It was Marcus.

The powerful flapping of the dragon's wings tore through the air. Soldiers and knights on the ground looked up with a mix of awe and fear.

Atop Marcus's firm back rode Michael.

His black cloak flapped fiercely in the strong wind, and his eyes gleamed with unwavering resolve.

Seated behind him was his grandfather, Alfred.

Alfred appeared as comfortable as if sitting in a plush armchair. Neither Michael nor Alfred wore harnesses like the ones used by ordinary riders.

Below, the knights whispered among themselves.

"As expected, monsters must give birth to monsters. Our lord is a hero, sure, but even his grandfather isn't someone to take lightly."

"Shh, watch your mouth. Don't you know? That man's the infamous Executioner of the Northeastern Planet."

The knight who had been wagging his tongue gave a startled look.

"Is that true? Ugh, that gives me chills."

"Chills? What for? You haven't committed any crimes, have you? Or is there something you're not telling me?"

"Come on, I'm the cleanest guy around. It's not guilt—I grew up hearing stories about him. That's why it's scary."

The other knight nodded knowingly.

"True enough. They say he skinned all the bandits that terrorized the Northeastern Planet—by himself."

"Skinned them, sure. Some even say he salted the hides and preserved them."

Both knights shuddered in unison. But reason quickly returned.

"Still, better to have someone like him on our side."

"Absolutely. We're lucky—damn lucky."

Alfred, unfazed by the chatter below, turned his gaze to Michael.

"Are you ready, Michael?"

Michael glanced back with a bright smile.

His grandfather was the same as always.

And yet, silhouetted in the crimson light of the evening sun, Alfred somehow seemed as if he might vanish at any moment.

Michael shook off the thought.

There was no way his grandfather would disappear—not when he was still this strong, still this full of life.

"Yes, Grandfather. And you?"

Alfred smiled warmly. The sight eased Michael's mind just a bit.

"I am always ready."

Marcus climbed higher, defying the wind.

His massive wings cleaved the air as he rose, slicing through the clouds as he flew toward the Lania Royal Fortress.

When the sun caught his scales, the red shimmered like a raging flame.

Time passed.

Michael looked down.

The castle walls, the city center, the forests, and the rivers—all lay within view.

It had become a familiar sight to him now.

This was Lania Fortress.

The atmosphere within the Lania Fortress was nothing like before.

Where once nobles might have strolled gracefully through plazas adorned with elegant statues and fountains, and pages moved quietly to maintain order—now the scene was indistinguishable from a military encampment bracing for war.

The training grounds below the fortress walls teemed with soldiers.

Lined up in formation, they raised their spears and swords in unison, their movements swift and disciplined.

Their intense battle cries shook the air, and commanding officers issued orders with firm voices.

Off to one side, the archery unit practiced relentlessly.

Archers with longbows struck their targets with pinpoint accuracy, their drills no less rigorous than real combat.

Even here, training was guided by manuals distributed by Michael.

The soldiers may have been exhausted, but the knights relished the challenge of command.

"Roll left! Roll right! Fifth in the fourth row—move faster! Reassign him!"

With enough repetition, even the most sluggish soldier could align with the one in front of him.

Knights exchanged glances and chuckled.

"Had we trained like this earlier, we wouldn't have looked like such a rabble."

"Exactly. The Duke Michael's reputation as a brilliant strategist is well-earned. Not just anyone can think outside the box like that."

"No doubt. That's why they call him a genius of the battlefield."

Well-trained warhorses were brought from the stables and entrusted to the cavalry, who drilled in rapid maneuvers, preparing for real combat.

Large supply wagons constantly moved through the grounds, delivering weapons and provisions to the troops.

Blacksmiths toiled before massive anvils beneath the castle walls, hammering out shields and spearheads, maintaining soldiers' arms.

Up on the castle walls, preparations for a siege were in full swing.

Steel spikes had been placed around the gate, and craftsmen installed giant cauldrons to pour scalding oil.

Under fluttering banners, soldiers were stationed along the battlements, each fulfilling their assigned role.

These were countermeasures in case the fortress was attacked during the campaign against the Glorious Holy Empire.

Catapult units on the walls loaded and positioned massive stones in preparation for assault.

Craftsmen reinforced the walls using huge iron spikes and wire, while alchemists concocted firebombs and stored them in warehouses.

Labouin and his wife also played a significant role. The gunpowder they had developed was being loaded onto supply wagons.

Inside the fortress, in the strategy room, war plans were being discussed in preparation for the coming battle.

A large map of the Glorious Holy Empire lay spread across the long table. Small flags marked key strongholds and defensive lines.

Princess Astrid, dressed in comfortable attire, sat in a chair analyzing the battlefield with sharp, focused eyes.

Beside her stood Duke Capone, quietly pointing to troop placements on the map as he explained the strategy.

"Troop deployment will proceed like this: the cavalry will prepare an ambush on the right flank, while the main force will scale the cliffs. Infantry will form a shield wall at the front. Fire assault units are ready, and we have more than enough provisions."

Princess Astrid replied in a calm but resolute voice.

"Good. Have we investigated the defensive structures atop the Glorious Empire's walls? Is there anything that might shake the morale of our troops?"

"There is nothing to worry about, Your Highness. Morale is high—especially since word has spread that Duke Michael himself will take part in the war."

Astrid closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

Michael.

Her fiancé, and the hero of the battlefield.

Just thinking of his imminent arrival stirred both relief and longing in her heart.