Chapter 123 - She Calls You (1)

A garrison stood on the northern plains, now thick with grass.

The flags fluttering among the countless tents were embroidered with emblems representing the Vatican and the Dragon Killer Knights.

"... Why are we not advancing, Sir Radu?"

Inside the commander's tent, the most lavishly decorated one there.

Bishop Pierre stood there, not even glancing at the teacup his host had offered him, and glared at the man before him.

"It has already been two months since we raised our forces. And yet we are still only watching with bated breath."

His tone was polite, but there was anger in it that could not be hidden.

The Bishop of Soara and an inquisitor.

As if he could no longer endure it, Pierre continued in a forceful voice.

"Even the God above would not look kindly upon your current negligence. So Sir Radu, even now..."

"We will do it."

There was enough anger in Pierre's words that they could not possibly be ignored, but the man seated before him was merely calm.

"For now, we are simply waiting for an opportunity."

His red hair, neatly slicked back with hair oil, drew the eye.

But the blue eyes meeting Pierre's clearly testified that this man named Radu had inherited the blood of a dragon.

They were blue eyes that held a presence that seemed not quite human.

"I never gave you a firm date for when we would do it, did I?"

"..."

Radu Dragulia of the Dragon Killer Knights.

The man who had inherited the blood of the Dragonblood Duke stared steadily at Bishop Pierre, suppressing his force of presence.

"Then when do you intend to draw your sword?"

"Isn't that simple?"

Though he was before a bishop put forward by the Vatican, there was no hesitation at all in Radu's attitude.

Because there was only one being in this world whom he feared.

"When my father permits it."

"..."

Radu shrugged with both feet propped up on the table.

At that relaxed sight, Bishop Pierre found himself at a loss for words.

"... Please do not mix human intentions into the will of God."

"Do not worry too much, Bishop. It will not take that long."

Radu lifted the poured glass of liquor and shrugged.

At his attitude, as if telling him to leave now, Pierre had no choice but to groan inwardly.

The presence of a dragon slipped from its leash was now looking down even on the Vatican.

"... I will take my leave."

"I will not see you out, Bishop."

In the end, Bishop Pierre had no choice but to leave the tent while biting his lip.

Though the banner had been raised in God's name, it was ultimately a matter that had to be resolved by human swords, so without Radu's permission, he could not move the army.

That was the contract they had agreed to from the beginning.

'I've been had.'

The noonday sun settled over Pierre's eyes as he stepped out of the tent.

When he shielded his dazzled eyes with his hand, he saw the scene before him.

Flags fluttering in the wind.

Between them, tents stood packed in orderly rows.

'Even after going this far.'

Though they had prepared this much, in the end, they had been played by the Dragonblood Duke's intentions.

At some point, the justification had been taken from him, and the sword hilt had never been his to begin with.

"..."

He knew why they were staying still like this.

They must have wanted to keep the North in check.

The central army, which had finally stirred, was now planted like a stake in the middle of the North, using a wicked existence as its justification.

And so the stake driven in by the Dragonblood Duke was pinning down the movements of the Iron Duke and the Northern Alliance.

'... I hope it will not be too late, Dragonblood Duke.'

Still, Pierre could only hope that it would not be too late.

The Barony of Uthman.

The place the garrison faced.

Because the ominous energy spreading from that place had already taken form and settled like black fog.

It was a fog so thick that neither the coming summer air nor the afternoon sunlight could reach it.

* * *

Unlike yesterday, the village had emptied out, making it feel desolate.

In the village, which had grown so quiet as if everyone had left, only household items they had failed to take with them lay scattered about.

"Mother, make sure Marie follows you closely. Keep your wits about you even after you get there..."

Amid the people slowly leaving, Got held his mother's hand tightly and repeatedly urged her to be careful.

"Please take good care of my mother and Marie. Think of them as your own family. No, you are family now, aren't you?"

"I will do my best, brother-in-law."

The villagers had begun leaving Wisteria Village.

In front of them, the Village Head was shouting himself hoarse, telling them not to leave, but not a single person listened.

They had seen the signs of war right on their doorstep, so staying still was unthinkable.

"Go to Marcia and stay put there. Even in a Territory War, cities are rarely captured."

"Be careful, Got. Your mother is always more worried about you than herself."

Got's eyes were full of worry as he looked at his mother's wrinkled face.

So full that it seemed it might drip down at any moment.

"... Take good care of the money I gave you. As soon as you arrive, send a letter to Soara. I should at least be able to receive word there."

"Oppa, you be careful too."

They had only just managed to meet again as family, and yet they had to part once more.

And since he had to send his family onto a harsh and dangerous road of flight at that, Got felt as if a fire were burning inside him.

"Tsk."

Watching Got absorbed in that sorrowful farewell, Vlad clicked his tongue.

A son preparing to part with his mother.

Vlad quietly watched that sight, then scratched his head for no reason and frowned.

"Hey. Got."

"..."

"Hey. Can't you hear me?"

Got was quietly waving his hand as he watched the people growing farther away.

Vlad grabbed Got, who had been intent on seeing them off for a long while, by the back of the neck and pulled him in front of his face.

"W-What is it, boss?"

For some reason, Vlad's expression looked fierce.

Got flinched at that expression, as if something had put him in a bad mood, but the words he heard were completely unexpected.

"You go with them too."

"Huh?"

The journey was only going to take them back to Soara anyway.

So there would be no need for Got's guidance anymore.

"... What do you mean?"

"It's vacation. I'll give you a long one."

For a very brief moment, Vlad had been able to recall old memories through Got's family.

So if possible, he simply wanted to remember that sight whole.

Because the memories he had now were so old and worn that it had become difficult even to call them up properly.

"But it's unpaid vacation."

"... Boss."

At Vlad's sudden suggestion, Got froze in bewilderment.

The fingers of Got, the quick-witted swindler, trembled as if he had realized something.

"Did I get fired?"

"... I said it's vacation, you lunatic."

"A long unpaid vacation? Employers usually say you're fired like that."

In the conversation he heard, Vlad felt as if he could sense the course of the life Got had lived.

"Hurry up and go after them. I'll see you later in Soara."

"Y-Yeah!"

Only then did Got grasp Vlad's intention and hurriedly climb onto his horse.

Consideration hidden within a cold tone.

It was consideration that Got had felt even in the ladle Vlad had waved around in front of his mother last night.

"Thank you, boss!"

The line of people visible beyond the hill in the distance somehow looked pale and misty.

The moment of parting was better the shorter it was, but Got could not easily tear himself away.

"I'll take Mother somewhere safe and come find you right away!"

"As if your place will still be there by then."

His true feelings as a scolding.

But there would be no misunderstanding.

The two who had met on a winter day had, at some point, become close enough to understand each other.

"... You can forget about getting a boat like Haven."

Watching Got's back as he left for his family, Vlad gave a bitter smile.

When they had met, he had looked like a swindler, but when he left, he looked sincere.

Got of Wisteria Village was thus galloping toward his family's arms.

"Yeah, hurry up and go."

He had said he would come back soon, but even at best, this would be a parting of several months.

Perhaps they might never see each other again.

Vlad knew well that partings were that fleeting.

"... Honestly, it tasted awful. That potato stew."

Watching Got's departing back, Vlad spoke the one thing he had not been able to say.

It tasted like a mother's cooking, but it was not good.

The afternoon sun hanging in the middle of the sky tickled Vlad's eyes.

His blue eyes were shielded from the blazing sun by his palm.

The color of the eyes watching the departing people was cold, but the warmth contained within them looked warm.

* * *

"As expected, the farther north we go, the colder it gets."

The men were walking along a small forest path.

Stefan made a joke and brought his horse closer to Vlad's side.

However, his horse only trembled under Noir's fierce glare.

It seemed Vlad was not the only one who regretted parting with Got.

"How far are you planning to follow me?"

"All the way north. Is it about a week left until Soara?"

Stefan and the Thorn Tree Mercenaries.

Right now, they were trailing closely behind Vlad.

"Why go out of your way to follow me all the way to Soara?"

"Because we still have not found a place to settle."

Their wandering, which had begun in the eastern city of Tanobo, had not yet come to an end.

Given the times, the value of mercenaries was rising, but that did not mean they could plant themselves just anywhere.

"After all, we are in the business of selling our one and only lives. We cannot help being sensitive when choosing an employer."

"... Hearing you say that, it turns out it wasn't particularly my fault. You're so picky, no wonder you still haven't found a place."

"Haha! Isn't that why we have survived until now?"

Even at Vlad's rebuke, Stefan merely laughed heartily and brushed it off.

Because, if possible, he had to get into this young knight's good graces.

'Someone like him would accept us any number of times.'

His manner of speech was prickly, and his attitude was cold.

But his actions toward his squire had been warm, so he was surely someone with no bad nature.

'Even if his personality were complete shit, he would still be worth following.'

From the time he had rescued him when he was wandering in the forest of Dobrechiti to Wisteria Village, Stefan had been with Vlad through what could be called a tenacious connection, so he could tell.

This was a man who would become something much greater.

Unlike before, Vlad's value now shone so brightly that anyone could easily see it.

"If you stop by Soara, what will you do? Will you receive a mission there right away?"

"... I don't know. I'll have to go there and see."

If he was skilled, of decent character, and even had excellent prospects, then it was right to jump aboard without delay.

Even his strongest competitor had conveniently fallen away on his own, so this was surely an opportunity.

"Why are you asking about my business?"

"Heh heh. Isn't this also fate? Perhaps we could have a drink in Soara..."

Stefan tried to joke with an affable smile.

But Vlad's eyes, which had been watching him, narrowed in an instant.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

Sounds carried on the wind.

Vlad's keen hearing began to catch something.

Sounds approaching from far away.

They were the sounds of horse hooves.

"Someone is coming."

"...!"

Vlad quietly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Realizing that something about Vlad's manner was unusual, Stefan quickly sent a signal to his men.

"Form up!"

At his signal, the Thorn Tree Mercenaries instantly surrounded Stefan and Vlad with the horses they were riding.

Vlad was briefly surprised by their perfectly coordinated movements.

"I see them."

"Hm."

Stefan naturally moved beside Vlad and began reporting.

In their field of vision, men approaching from afar came into view.

'They look to be twenty or so.'

Their number looked to be twice that of his party, but that did not mean there was any need to retreat.

The Thorn Tree Mercenaries were experienced, and Vlad himself had now grasped exactly what level he had reached.

"Halt. Those ahead, identify yourselves."

Men in black hoods approached boldly, as if they had nothing to hide.

Though they were disguised as ordinary men, Vlad could sense the extraordinary presence coming from them.

"You finally look the part. You've grown a lot. You're nothing like you were back then."

"... It seems you know me?"

The man was smiling as if he knew him.

Toward that man of unknown identity, Vlad raised his sword.

There was nothing more suspicious than someone who knew him when he did not know them.

"Who are you? Answer the question."

"..."

The man was not at all bothered by Vlad's sharpening presence.

He only quietly searched inside his coat and pulled out a stiff sheet of paper.

It was paper stamped with a familiar seal.

"Lord Joseph sent us. Knight Vlad."

"What?"

When he lifted his hood along with the order he held, the man's face began to show.

His face was full of scars carved deeply into it beyond counting.

"From now on, you are not to come to Soara. Go to Deirmar."

"What?"

Vlad recognized those scars, and with them, who the man was.

They had met only once, but his appearance was unforgettable.

He was someone Vlad remembered by a first impression as intense as his face.

"Until there are special instructions, you are ordered to act not as Vlad of Soara, but as Lady Alicia's knight."

The leather pouch Joseph had shown him inside the carriage.

Inside it had been the head of a man whose eyes were wide open, unable even to close.

"This is the command of Lord Joseph Bayezid, noble blood of the North."

The hidden sword of the Bayezid Family.

The nameless knight who had cut off Endre Heinal's head now stood before Vlad.