ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 23: Manipulative.

A cold gust swept across the formation of soldiers. Even the commanders fell silent, waiting for the duke’s decision, the man known for his unshakeable composure.

Except when it involved one thing. Or one person.

Duke Morgan was the first to break the heavy silence. "The crown prince speaks the truth. This could very well be an attempt to make you fall, Demian. And once you fall... the empire follows."

Demian did not immediately respond. His eyes were dark, unfathomable, his mind clearly racing.

Marquess Anshen spoke next, his brows drawn. "He is right. We are standing on a battlefield against fools who can barely hold a spear. Isn’t it far more likely that this entire situation is a trap?"

Duke Morgan nodded sharply. "They must have crafted a strategy to bring you down. Nothing is impossible if it concerns you, Duke Morvex."

Every commander present seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Where Duke Demian Morvex stood, death followed.He was the empire’s spear. The first blade. The Devil Wolf of the battlefield.

Any sane enemy would do anything to eliminate him first. Break him, and the war was half-won.

No one had ever managed to pierce Morvex’s front line. Anyone who tried had their corpses swallowed by the blood-soaked earth within minutes. His power was not something ordinary soldiers could even comprehend.

And because of that... the Emperor himself did not need to stain his hands with war.He only needed to watch for the empire had birthed a monster to fight for him.

"We must craft a strategy as well," the crown prince, Kaiser, finally said. His voice was calm, but his eyes were razor-sharp.

If Demian was a weapon, then Kaiser was the empire’s mind.Genius strategist, born with a golden head of hair and cold blue eyes that mirrored the Emperor’s.

Every brilliant tactic Demian devised could be countered, challenged, or perfected by the crown prince. And Demian, who bowed to no one, actually acknowledged the prince’s brilliance.

"Do you have a plan?" Demian asked quietly, though everyone could hear the weight behind the question.

"Of course I do." Kaiser smirked. "It’s simple. You stay here. And we send someone else back to camp. Meanwhile, we spread a rumor in the opposite direction."

Demian’s eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous enough to silence an entire army.But Kaiser didn’t flinch, he was the only one besides the Emperor who never feared facing the Devil Wolf.

"If the enemy hears a rumor that you returned to camp," Kaiser continued, "they will launch an attack here immediately. They’ll show their real hand."

The Emperor chuckled softly, proud of his son. "He’s right. Let them chase after shadows."

Demian exhaled slowly. "Then who do you suggest we send back?"

That was the difficult part.Everyone exchanged looks.Who could possibly impersonate the Duke?Who had the skill, the presence, the aura to pull it off?

"You may choose anyone you trust," the Emperor offered.

"No need," Kaiser said suddenly. "I’ll go."

Gasps erupted. Even seasoned generals paled.

"You?" Demian asked sharply, turning toward him.

"Yes," Kaiser replied without hesitation. "Who else?"

The Emperor raised a brow. "Why does it sound like you’re just trying to avoid the main battlefield?"

"Ay, Father, be reasonable. I’m practically useless when he’s here," Kaiser gestured at Demian. "Better I slip away quietly than fight pointlessly."

"You really are a coward who runs whenever it’s convenient," Demian growled at him.

Kaiser grinned, unbothered. "I’m the future emperor. Preserving myself is simply wise management. I must ascend the throne smoothly, after all."

The vein on Demian’s temple twitched. "Bastard... Fine. Go. But if you cause even bigger trouble, "

He stepped closer, eyes turning into pure threat.

"I will kill you."

Kaiser only smirked wider."Well, you’ll have to catch me first."

Rumors about Duke Demian Morvex’s sudden return spread like wildfire swift, uncontrollable, and impossible to contain.

Within a single hour, whispers turned into certainty, certainty turned into panic, and panic rippled across every corner of the battlefield.

The message traveled through trenches, over blood-soaked soil, across enemy lines, and even into the heart of the Morvex camp.

Soldiers repeated it with trembling lips. Commanders exchanged uneasy glances. Even the enemy generals felt their stomachs tighten at the mere possibility.

The Demon Wolf is returning.The Undefeated Blade is leaving the front.Duke Morvex is on the move.

But the truth was far more guarded than any rumor.

No one, not even the most skilled spies, realized that the figure riding swiftly through the shadows of the dense, moonless forest was not Duke Demian Morvex.

Cloaked in black, accompanied only by a handful of elite escorts, the rider was the Crown Prince himself, Kaiser Adelhard.

His golden hair was hidden beneath a dark hood, and only the faint glimmer of his sapphire eyes betrayed his identity as he urged his stallion forward. Every movement was calculated, every breath measured. He was entering a role meant to deceive the world.

Meanwhile, far away at the frontlines, Demian remained exactly where he was needed: standing tall at the center of the battlefield.

He sat astride his massive black warhorse, armor still stained with the blood of earlier skirmishes. His icy eyes scanned the horizon, not for ordinary soldiers, he cared nothing for them, but for the real threat.

For the monsters bold enough to believe they could use Valerie to unsettle him.

For the mastermind who dared think Duke Morvex could be distracted so easily.

The wind howled across the barren plain, carrying with it the scent of steel and death. Demian tightened his grip on the reins, his expression unreadable yet filled with a silent promise of slaughter.

Let them come.

He would wait for every enemy foolish enough to believe the rumor.

And when they arrived...he would tear through them like a storm of steel.

"Come..." he murmured, the word slipping from his lips like a growl swallowed by the darkness around him. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles paling beneath his gloves as the cold night wind brushed past his armor.

He stood alone at the front line, surrounded only by the distant crackle of torches and the muffled whispers of his men behind him, none daring to step closer. His presence itself was enough to carve out a space of silence, a vacuum where even fear hesitated to breathe.

"Come," he repeated, slower this time, as if inviting death itself.His crimson cape billowed in the harsh wind, snapping like the wings of a beast eager for blood.

Golden eyes narrowed.

"Whoever the true mastermind is..."His voice sank lower, darker, thick with the promise of violence.

"...I will tear you apart. Limb by limb."