The Villainess's Reputation [Kingdom Building]

Marie stood, walking slowly to the edge of the tower window, and held up a delicate fillet flower, its pale blue petals glowing faintly in the sun. It was the remote ignition disruptor. With a single pulse of it, it would extinguish the fire keeping a balloon afloat: dropping it instantly onto a chosen targets.

Her voice trembled not with fear, but with anticipation. She could see the enemy's shield formations advancing steadily, unaware of the storm above. The balloons were almost in position. Soon, their payloads: Iron weights, smoke bombs, quicklime satchels, fire oil canisters, would rain down with surgical precision.

Marie took a breath and stepped back, eyes never leaving the sky. The moment was close.

And when it came, she would answer Ravenna's trust with fire from the heavens.

Somewhere around the Southern port , Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

A small boat creaked softly as it drifted along the outer waters of Kim City's southern port, far from the chaos erupting on the main beaches. Cloaked in a veil of sea mist and war-forged fog, the world felt eerily silent here, the calm before a different kind of storm.

Seated at the bow was David, the knight commander in service to Lady Aurora Flask, eyes fixed on the ever-thickening fog ahead. He held a spyglass, though it was mostly useless now—visibility had dropped to almost nothing as they neared the thickest part of the mist cloud. Around him, his unit remained quiet, their weapons at the ready.

Their mission was simple, in theory.

Infiltrate the enemy's magic ships from the rear flank. Locate Edward Jola, and either capture or eliminate him.

Sitting opposite David in the cramped boat was Emma, a knight of the same unit, her arms crossed tightly as she glared into the swirling whiteness. Her frustration was thinly masked.

"They gave us this task because we're expendable," Emma muttered, her voice low and bitter. "To Her Highness Ravenna, we're just tools… throwaway pieces on the board."

David didn't flinch.

"Yes," he admitted quietly, "but Lady Aurora instructed us to cooperate with Ravenna's command. It's our duty to protect both her and young Lord Ken. If this war turns against Kim City, they will be the first targets. We can't afford to play politics."

He didn't look at her as he spoke—his attention remained on the fog ahead, on the shapes barely visible within it. Masts. Hulls. Movement.

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The enemy.

Emma huffed and leaned back against the boat's edge, her jaw tight.

"I still can't believe Lady Aurora agreed to throw us away like this," she grumbled. "It's not like her to let others dictate the value of our lives."

David's gaze finally shifted toward her. His tone remained calm, but there was steel beneath it.

"She agreed because she had no choice," he said. "We sought asylum here. We live under someone else's roof now. If we refuse to help in their most desperate hour, we risk everything. We owe them more than results—"

Emma frowned, The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the boat filled the silence between David's words.

Finally, she muttered, "I get it. Alright? I get it. I just wanted to vent. Is that so wrong?"

As the last of her words escaped, their boat drifted into the heart of the fog, a curtain of white swallowing them whole. Visibility dropped to almost zero. The air grew cold and damp, heavy with the stench of salt and smoke. The only sounds now were the creaking of wood and the occasional splash of paddles from the other boats in their squadron.

David reached for the hilt of his sword.

"No," he said quietly. "It's not wrong. But save the rest of your venting… until we get out of here alive." And with that, the shadows of enemy ships loomed ever closer, silent giants in the sea.

On The Commanding Ship, Imperial Navy Fleet, Southern Port of Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

Fog. Thick, suffocating, and unnaturally fast-moving, it rolled back over the sea like a ghostly tide swallowing everything in its path.

Commander Lucas stood at the bow, gripping the iron rail tightly as he squinted into the pale-white curtain descending around his fleet. Just minutes ago, the fog had been dispelled by sheer force—blasted apart by synchronized spells launched from their mages.

And yet now, it was back.

"Why in the hell is the fog returning?!" Lucas snapped, turning sharply toward the mage standing at his side. His voice was rough, strained with disbelief. "You told me a large-scale concealment spell like that would be difficult to redeploy! Especially so quickly!"

The mage, a young man with sweat clinging to his brow and soot smeared across his sleeves, flinched. "I-I don't know, Commander. I swear, this doesn't feel like magic. At least, not any structured kind I can detect."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Not magic? Then what in the Emperor's name is it?"

The mage hesitated, clearly reluctant to answer, then swallowed and said, "I think… I think it might be artificial. A chemical reaction: alchemy, perhaps. Not something drawn from flowers."

Lucas's scowl deepened. "They found a way to replicate fog with tools?"

He looked back at the thickening mist, watching as the silhouettes of nearby ships began to blur, their outlines warping and fading. The further edges of the fleet were already vanishing into the white.

They were being blinded again. Boxed in.

"Then blow it off again!" Lucas barked. "I don't care if it's magic or alchemy or some damned trick with powder. get it gone! We need our vision back!"

The mage nodded rapidly and ran toward the platform at the ship's rear, already preparing a new wind spell formation with flowers to clear the air.

But Lucas's jaw remained clenched as he looked out over the ocean.

This wasn't just battlefield fog. This was warfare by ingenuity, a battlefield shaped not by brute strength, but by foresight and engineering. And that made him aware far more than any spell ever could.