Barcas leaned back in the back of his chair, feeling the muscles in his neck contract tightly.
On an 8-square-foot (about 240 cm) wide mahogany desk, there was a list of pagans collected by the survey team and a map showing the points suspected of being the meeting points of the looters.
Barcas, who was glancing through them, opened his mouth to Beirov, who was sitting across from him.
"When is the next contact date?"
"It's the eve of the return. It seems that a large gathering will take place at an abandoned mine on the outskirts of Heswen."
"It's pretty tight."
Barcas's gaze shifted to the list of apostates, caressing his chin with a thoughtful expression.
"Have you figured out the size of the enemy?"
"According to the results of the interrogation, hundreds or thousands of people will gather. It is difficult to trust the testimonies because they are different."
Beirov continued sarcastically.
"Don't ignorant commoners often mistake a gathering of just a hundred men for a great army? Realistically, it's estimated to be between two hundred and fifty and three hundred."
Barkas let out a hearty laugh. At that scale, they were more than just a band of thieves; they could easily be called a troop.
It was a ridiculous number compared to the forces the Grand Duke possessed, but the problem was that the Zramites had organized an army in the eastern center.
'There may be organizations like this scattered all over this land.'
Barcas sighed heavily and gave instructions in a stern tone.
"Contact the local lords and have them gather together to wipe them out all at once."
"Do you intend to command it yourself, Your Excellency?"
"Yes, I have to remove the weeds that have taken root in my front yard with my own hands."
Barcas responded coldly and slowly got up.
As he was about to leave the office, Beirov cautiously opened his mouth.
"What do you plan to do with the pagans?"
"First, put some guards around."
Barcas answered, turning around and clutching the doorknob.
"If we arrest them all at once, it might reach the ears of the looters. Let's wait for the right time and then make a surprise arrest."
"...The numbers are significant. There may be significant opposition from residents."
"But it's not like we can just sit back and watch the pagans swear."
Barcas retorted sharply.
"If we leave the apostates alone, the central church will send heresy hunters. It would be more beneficial for them to be tried for heresy in the eastern church than to fall into their hands and have their limbs torn apart."
Beirov, unable to find a rebuttal, closed his mouth. Barcas, turning his eyes away from that perplexed face, immediately left the barracks.
A thin stream of rain was falling on the parade ground. He strode into the rain, clearing his head of confusion.
Since being incorporated into the Empire, the citizens of the East have been formally baptized and have lived as believers of the Imperial Church.
Their resurgence in influence throughout the East is a sign that the empire's ruling system is beginning to crack.
He thought that might be a danger sign.
'From the north to the east... it's chaos.'
He roughly tousled his increasingly tangled hair. A sense of doubt washed over him, as if he were straining to protect a sandcastle before the waves.
Barcas, who was looking up at the gray sky with dark, sunken eyes, slowly crossed the training ground.
As he passed through the earthy garden and entered the main castle, a servant, who had been lighting candles throughout the hall, ran over with a towel. Barcas accepted it, roughly shaking the water from his hair before asking a question.
"Where is the Grand Duchess?"
"His Highness has not returned yet."
Barcas paused and looked back at his servant.
"Are you saying she went out?"
"She probably didn't go out of the castle. She said she was going to the healer's hut during the day, so she's probably going there.
He frowned.
Although he had heard that she often visited the healer's residence, he had never seen her leave the main palace for long since he returned.
"Where exactly are the healer's quarters located?"
"It is located at the northern end of the Raedgo Castle.
Barcas immediately crossed the hall and escaped through the back door.
As he passed the wide, rain-soaked pavement and the forest path covered in dark gray shadows, the fountain where he had reunited with her appeared.
After briefly gazing at the silver surface of the water dripping with rain, Barcas soon walked along the muddy dirt road toward the castle wall.
Soon, a well-kept herb garden and a small stone building came into view. Barcas approached and knocked on the door without hesitation. A calm voice followed.
“Please come in.”
He immediately grabbed the doorknob. The healer preparing the potion at the table jumped up in surprise.
"Your Excellency, what is happening here?"
"I heard my wife is here."
Barcas looked around the room carefully.
Inside the fairly spacious space, there was a table that appeared to be used for work, a shelf stacked with hundreds of medicine bottles, and a drying rack with bunches of herbs neatly arranged.
As Barcas examined them one by one, his gaze lingered on the shabby bed. Thalia, clad in a multi-colored blue summer dress, lay there, sound asleep.
He looked down at her defenseless figure for a moment, then turned his gaze to the book carelessly placed, overturned next to her head.
The title 'Punishment' was engraved in gold on the high-quality hardcover book, neatly bound in leather.
Barcas's eyes furrowed as he picked it up and slowly scattered it. The book she was reading was a memoir written by Elixir, a hero active during the founding of the empire, who had returned from Hell and written about it.
'...Her reading taste doesn't change much.'
Even when she was young, she read only books on dark topics day and night, but even when she grew up, that bad taste still seemed to be there.
Barcas, who was reading the words describing the miserable appearance of sinners in purgatory, threw them into the furnace without hesitation.
Seeing the expensive old book engulfed in flames, the healer let out a small scream.
Barcas immediately gave a warning look. The woman, who was looking at the brazier with a dejected face, hurriedly closed her mouth.
He looked at her complexion again. No matter how deeply she fell asleep, she was breathing heaves without moving.
"Has she taken sleeping pills?"
"She said that his legs hurt unusually when it rained, so she took a little strong painkiller."
The healer replied in a low voice.
After looking into her face for a long time, Barcas carefully bent down and hugged her limp body.
"Where is the wolf?"
"Well, Khan..."
The woman, who had been looking embarrassed for a moment, pursed her dry lips and added in a calmer voice.
"He has been isolated for a while in the kennel prepared in the villa."
"Kennel?"
Barcas's eyebrows raised at an angle.
For the past few days, the wolf has not wanted to leave her side for a single moment. Thalia had also poured all her heart into the beast to an unusual extent, and he was puzzled by this sudden action.
"Why did you suddenly make such a decision?
"... She posted a warning that the reason why Khan has become overly sensitive recently is that his protective instinct towards Her Highness has gone too far."
The healer, who lowered her eyes, continued cautiously.
"Above all, since Your Excellency has returned, I told Her Highness that Khan should soon learn to live apart from Her Highness... It seems that she has decided to set aside dinner."
At that moment, a strange tension appeared in the corners of Barcas' mouth.
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