Chapter 134 - There Was One at Sea, Too (2)

Green hair, a mess as if it had been cut in haste.

A black cloak so large it dragged along the ground.

The first thing that caught Joseph's eye was the slender wrist clutching desperately at the cloak even now as it slipped down.

The child looked far too shabby to be called one of noble blood.

"Hoian."

"I am Marcus now."

"... Right, Marcus."

Bayezid's hidden sword, whose very name could not be properly known.

He was the commander of the secret intelligence squad, a blade only the Family Head could command in full, but at least now, Joseph had the right to question him to a certain extent.

"Is the child before my eyes truly Karl Ravnoma?"

"..."

Joseph's office, prepared in Deirmar beneath the pouring sunlight.

Unlike the North, it was a mild place, but for now, only a heavy silence hung in the air.

"I apologize."

"I see."

It was an obvious mistake, but Joseph did not go out of his way to reproach Marcus.

Since this child had been sent out with the last remaining strength of Ravnoma gathered behind them, everyone involved in this matter must surely have been desperate.

It would have been impossible for Marcus alone to see through all of that struggling.

'At any rate, it seems they are indeed a Ravnoma.'

A child claiming to be the last Ravnoma.

Bayezid had paid a costly price to drag this child out of the West.

But if they had known this child was not Karl Ravnoma, they would not have put in this much effort.

"Tell me your original name, child of Ravnoma."

At Joseph's question, the child raised their chin as if trying hard to look composed, but even so, their eyes were filled with an anxiety they could not hide.

Because there was no one here now who would step forward for them.

"I, I am..."

"I will tell you in advance that I hate lies very much."

A young child whom no one protected anymore.

To a child like that, even the smallest warning would come like thunder.

And so, the only thing the child could rely on now was the black cloak they were wearing.

"... Charles."

A tiny voice, as if something had been given up.

To survive, the child had to hide themself.

That was the first method of survival the child had to learn after coming out into the world.

"Charlotte Ravnoma."

And even when she finally revealed her identity, as expected, there was no one who welcomed the child.

From the moment the girl was born until now, when she had barely managed to survive.

The girl named Charlotte had lived all this time in a world like that.

"... Damn."

The men of Bayezid wore troubled expressions at the answer they heard.

Listening to the faint sighs she had heard countless times in her life, Charlotte merely clutched the cloak again with trembling hands.

"Thank you for telling me honestly."

Though she disguised it with a defiant gaze, the merciless trembling in Charlotte's eyes was pitiful.

Just like the boy he had met on a winter day.

As Joseph looked at the child who had revealed herself not as Karl but as Charlotte, his thoughts began to tangle in complicated knots.

* * *

The sky was blue, and the waves were calm.

Unlike last night, when the storm had raged viciously.

"... I hate Zemina."

A black-haired man lay sprawled on the deck like wet seaweed.

A small voice, almost a murmur, flowed from between his bloodless lips.

"Zemina is too small, too slow, and she rocks too much."

"Lord Rutiger, please get a hold of yourself."

Vlad, who, like Rutiger, swept back his soaking-wet hair, quickly helped the limp man up and supported him.

Vlad's complexion was just as pale, but even so, he looked far better than Rutiger, who was spouting nonsense.

"I hate the sea. I hate storms too."

"But we managed to get out somehow."

"I will never ride a ship again. I will spend my whole life with my feet on the ground."

An unfamiliar sea. And a storm he had experienced for the first time in his life.

The Red-Haired Zemina had broken through a terrifying storm last night and only today had barely managed to enter waters belonging to the North.

According to Haven, if their response had been even a little slower, they might all have become fish food.

'... Everyone's completely out of it.'

As Vlad moved the endlessly muttering Rutiger toward a hammock, he quietly looked over the deck.

Northern men were tangled together everywhere, rolling about without distinction.

Seeing the forced great unification of the North created by the enormous power of nature, Vlad could only let out a sigh.

"Why the hell isn't there even something like a captain's cabin here?"

"Because she was small to begin with. We converted all of it into cargo space."

After tossing the groaning Rutiger into a hammock, Vlad complained to Haven in a disgruntled voice, but all he got back was an unapologetic excuse.

"When you look at things like this, doesn't the name Zemina fit this ship perfectly? They're both tiny."

"... Yeah, do whatever you want."

Leaving behind Haven, who was cheerfully spinning the helm, Vlad began moving the knights and Budaat Tribe warriors inside in place of the back-alley sailors who were still busily moving about.

"We really almost died."

Though he was now moving as if nothing had happened, the aftereffects of the storm he had faced last night still remained vivid in Vlad's mind.

If the swarm of squid had not warned them, it was the kind of storm that would have long since sunk them.

'Those are some strange things.'

On the deck, now a little more open, Vlad gripped the railing and looked down at the sea below.

The glowing bodies began falling away one by one as soon as the storm passed.

Watching the squid return beneath the deep sea as if they had finished their task, Vlad quickly closed his left eye.

'No matter how I look at them, they aren't spirits.'

The glowing squid had warned them of the approaching storm and shown them the path through it.

But even in Vlad's world, which had absorbed the remnant of voices, they were merely ordinary, ugly squid.

"... I have no idea what they are."

Haven had said that the swarms of squid that gathered last night must have risen to avoid the storm.

But Vlad knew very well that the squid now moving away had not gathered around for such a natural reason.

"What on earth did you make for me?"

Vlad quietly looked at the blue sword hanging at his waist.

The sword of stars that the young World Tree had made together with the spirits.

The powders that had drifted little by little from the sword last night were something only Vlad could notice.

It was a sight just like on Heinal's hill, where the white snake had been.

'The white snake was really happy when it saw this.'

Vlad, who had merely absorbed the remnant of voices, still had not realized it.

The fact that he was sowing seeds even now.

Young possibilities that had not yet even become spirits were being led by the knight's hand and spreading throughout the world.

Just as the Swordmaster of old had once wished to do.

"I see it! Land ahead!"

At the shout of a sailor from somewhere, Vlad awoke from his private thoughts.

Traces of land began to appear, shimmering little by little in the distance ahead.

At the lookout's shout that land was in sight, the limp knights began to raise themselves one by one.

Perhaps it was only his imagination, but even the scent touching the tip of his nose already seemed to be changing.

"Good."

Haven checked the distant dock through his telescope and smiled faintly.

"Tell the passengers! We've reached our destination!"

The captain who had remained until the very end and safely carried the cargo entrusted to him through the storm to its destination.

Captain Haven's performance was impressive enough to be deeply engraved in Rutiger's mind.

"Raise the flag! So they can identify us!"

At the captain's order, the red flag once again rose over the small but strong Zemina.

A red flag that resembled the color of someone's hair.

The flag that proved who they were fluttered not only on land, but here at sea as well.

* * *

PFFRRT!

Noir blew roughly through his lips as if he were seasick.

Still, the fortunate thing was that despite the rough voyage, none of the horses had been particularly injured.

"I'm going back to Soara like this."

The dock of a small seaside village.

At a dock too cramped for even Zemina, the smallest sailboat, Haven was saying farewell to Vlad.

"Thank you for waiting for me in Nassau."

"If you're that grateful, buy me another ship."

Haven smiled as he tapped Vlad's sleek-looking armor.

But when Haven looked at the armor up close, his smile stiffened at the scars carved all over it.

"Of course I'll buy you another one. We're a merchant company, after all. Would it look right to have only one ship?"

His blond hair fluttered and glittered above his smiling face.

Flashy when seen from afar, but covered in scars when seen up close.

Seeing Vlad's armor, which looked exactly like its owner, Haven could only give a bitter smile.

"... Don't push yourself too hard. I'm earning money now too."

"What good would that even do?"

Though the reply was curt, Haven lifted the cane he had been leaning on, spread both arms, and embraced Vlad.

For a moment, their balance tilted, but when they leaned on each other, they could stand steady.

"Don't forget that Zemina is always waiting."

"... I know."

Be careful, stay healthy, see you again.

They did not put it into words, but the sincerity contained in that single embrace was fully conveyed through each other's warmth.

"I still have cargo left, you see."

Haven pointed behind him with his thumb.

There stood Rutiger, looking at Vlad with a gloomy face.

The eldest son of Bayezid could not bring himself to move his feet, even though the order to board had been given.

Unable to remain on land like this, he had to return to Soara with the Zemina.

Because he had to join Peter, who would be coming down with the main force for the war to come.

"Go."

"Yeah."

After exchanging brief farewells, Haven and Vlad turned their backs toward their respective duties as if it were only natural.

For men of the back alleys, loud farewells were something like taboo.

Because they believed that only a plain farewell would carry them to tomorrow's meeting.

Vlad and the Budaat Tribe warriors left the village through the harbor.

Watching them from the ship, Haven quietly looked at Vlad's back until it passed beyond his sight and vanished from the end of his telescope.

"A storm, and then war as soon as you break through it. That's your life."

One who stood alone had to prove himself without end.

Just like Vlad now.

"Otar. Raise the anchor."

"Yeah."

Watching his friend, who had to enter the storm of the battlefield once again, Haven had no choice but to turn his head.

But unlike before, when he could only watch from afar, the Haven of now had legs that could move forward.

"We're leaving! Everyone, get ready!"

Though he was weak now, someday the day would come when he could help shoulder it together.

Remembering Vlad's armor, covered in scars, Haven quietly took his captain's hat in hand.

The small ship began to move slowly with the wind.

Fortunately, unlike yesterday, the sea looked calm today.

* * *

The group left the small seaside village whose name they did not know and headed for Deirmar.

Perhaps holding a grudge from their wandering at sea, the horses of the North only drove fiercely forward.

And when Heinal's flag finally began to appear in the distance, an ominous mass of troops began to enter the group's sight.

"Is that Gaidar?"

"... I don't think it's the main force."

Gaidar's soldiers were gradually sticking their heads out on the other side of a small stream.

As Age said, they were not the main force Sigmund had brought, but they already looked like an advance party sent to assess the situation.

"They're sticking their heads out in the open."

Everyone would know, and for that reason, there was no need to hide.

The Gaidar vanguard showed no hesitation at all in revealing their presence, making a mockery of their reconnaissance mission.

It was confidence, and also disdain.

"Age. Give me the flag."

"Got it."

"No, not mine."

If he was looked down on, he had to pay it back.

Because that was the rule of life and method of survival Vlad had set for himself.

"I'll go say hello in advance."

Seeing Vlad's savage smile, the Budaat Tribe warriors smiled along with him.

As expected, the choice made by the son of the plains had not been wrong.

"Let's go!"

The warriors charged down the slope of the field instead of toward Deirmar's castle.

At Vlad's sudden charge, the Gaidar soldiers began to panic.

"Wh-what are those bastards!"

"They're charging straight at us!"

The warriors charged at an advance party of several hundred with cavalry numbering only around ten.

At Vlad's sudden action that defied common sense, Gaidar's formation began to ripple, their earlier composure nowhere to be found.

"Put away your shields! We only came to say hello!"

But Vlad and the warriors merely sneered at them and swept past the formation.

Boldly, Vlad and the warriors began to skim along Gaidar's formation, passing close enough to almost touch.

Even so, the fact that the Gaidar soldiers could not respond easily was probably not only because they had been flustered by the sudden situation.

"Is that flag real?"

"... No, there's no way."

A blond knight who looked dazzling to anyone's eyes.

But in contrast, the flag the knight was carrying was miserably bent and filthy.

"Tell the count and Godin! Thanks for the flag they gifted us!"

A familiar flag held by a northern knight they had never seen before.

It was the flag of the Gaidar cavalry, drooping limp with its wings broken.