B2 Chapter 53: FetchDuke Mark of Redcliffe was having a hell of a week.He ran his fingers through what remained of his hair one more time as he read through another stack of reports. Absentmindedly, he shook his hand behind him. Another few strands of hair fell to the floor. He had managed to go nearly sixty years without going completely bald, no matter how much his wife begged to differ. But the stress of recent events was finally beginning to wear on even those last holdouts atop his head.The barony of Wellshire had fallen. It was no longer counted by the System as a part of the Redcliffe duchy. As for who had taken it, only a few scouts had managed to break through and return to tell the tale. But best he could tell, the culprits seemed to be a strange sort of army that didn't resemble that of any country he knew. The same army, perhaps, that Baron von Latimore had spoken of.The reports weren't even the worst of it, though. Rather, it was a lack of communication that really had him panicking. His daughter was always quite consistent about sending him correspondence and the latest drawings she'd done of his beautiful granddaughter. Yet he hadn't heard from her since Wellshire had fallen.The uncertainty as to her fate had him in shambles. It had only been a week, but that was too long for him. If he didn't hear back soon, then he'd have to send a force out to investigate himself, something he could hardly spare. Not without aid from the king, which didn't seem like it would be coming anytime soon. Though who knew? Perhaps the vain man would have a change of heart.One could dream.