It didn't take long for the huge shadow to completely disappear from view.
Barcas pulled the reins to slow the horse. There was no need to hurry. The wolf was already like a rat in a trap.
Mounted warriors were positioned all around, and on top of that, the fellow had even sustained a vital injury. No matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to get far.
He took the girdle out of his saddlebag and lit a fire.
When the blazing flame shone on the floor, scattered bloodstains were revealed.
Broken branches and scratch marks left by sharp claws were visible on its massive body. It appeared to lack the strength to erase its own traces.
He rode his horse slowly, following the wolf's tracks.
The deeper he went into the forest, the darker and more intense the bloodstains became. It looked like the wounds had opened up due to the violent movement.
The hunting arrowheads, which were curved into a hook shape at the tip, were designed to penetrate deeper into the skin the more the prey thrashed about.
'...It looks like the artery is damaged.'
Barcas, who had been following the irregular footprints, stopped his horse upon discovering a pool of blood on the ground. With this amount of blood loss, it must have collapsed somewhere nearby.
He dismounted from the saddle and scanned the surroundings with a sharp gaze.
A biting, frost-like wind was swirling through the birch trees, rising straight up like bars.
Barcas, feeling something cool brush against his cheek, raised his head and looked up at the sky stained black.
The light flowing from the torch was faintly illuminating the fluffy ice particles. It was the first snow of the season.
He stared up at it blankly for quite a while. He noticed that an unfamiliar scent was mixed in with the wind that felt like it was cutting through his skin.
He turned his head as if drawn by something. A dark figure was visible between the pale-glowing birch trees.
As he took a step forward, the sight of a dire wolf slumped on the ground caught his eye.
He carefully examined the massive chest that was rising and falling rapidly.
The spot where the arrow had lodged was completely drenched in blood. It was surprising that it was still alive after suffering such heavy bleeding.
He immediately gripped the hilt of the sword. It seemed that the creature wouldn't last long even if left alone, but he had to make sure the lifeline was completely cut off.
Drawing his sword, he slowly approached the wolf's head. Only then did the monster's heavy eyelids lift.
Barcas involuntarily stopped moving as he met those brilliantly shining blue eyes. Despair, sorrow, pain, and resentment were swirling chaotically across the beast's wet pupils.
Suddenly, her desperate plea struck his ears.
"If you look into Khan's eyes, you'll know. Khan is our son. It is our son who never even took his first breath, now brought back to life!"
He consciously tightened his stiff knuckles.
It's all nonsense. It's just the rambling of a superstitious woman.
He raised his sword, repeating that to himself.
The wolf gazed at the blade hanging over it with eyes full of resignation. White snowflakes settled upon its pale eyes.
Ice crystals melted in an instant and flowed down, wetting the corners of the wolf's eyes.
Barcas looked down at the figure, who looked as if shedding tears, without moving a muscle, and eventually lowered his sword.
***
It was around the time the blue light of dawn was coloring the earth that the punitive forces returned to Raedgo Castle.
The mounted warriors, exhausted from scavenging through the ravages of life, trudged through the castle gate.
When they stood guard, soldiers and servants rushed out into the open space to greet them. Among them were retainers as well.
Edgar, the cavalry squad leader, crossed the training ground with hurried steps and approached the Grand Duke, speaking cautiously.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
Barcas dismounted from his horse and answered in a dry voice.
“There’s nothing wrong.”
"I wonder what became of that wolf..."
Barcas's lips tightened slightly at the impatient question.
When he did not respond, the faces of the butler as well as the mounted warriors who had rushed out to check the results of the subjugation all hardened at once.
Then Beirov stepped forward.
"The subjugation has concluded successfully. His Excellency the Grand Duke has dealt with the wolf well, so please do not worry now."
"Did you bring the wolf?"
At the sudden sound of a voice, everyone's eyes turned to one spot.
Modrian, dressed in plain clothes, was leading his men across the open field. He spoke, displaying blatant distrust.
"Surely you didn't come back empty-handed, did you?"
The man seemed to suspect that the Grand Duke, who was unusually soft-hearted toward his wife, might be lying after releasing the monster.
Barcas let out a low sigh and gestured with his chin. Then Beirov pulled a large leather sack off the saddle and tossed it down in front of him.
“Please check.”
The old knight immediately pulled the leather strap, tightening the opening of the sling.
Soon, the head of a beast, drenched in dark red blood, was revealed. As he examined it closely with narrowed eyes, the man shouted with a satisfied expression.
"Burn this in the middle of the fortress clearing so that everyone can see it!"
The warriors gathered in the open field let out a shout filled with rage.
As he stood still watching the scene, Barcas slowly turned around. Then, moving his legs as heavy as lead, he left the open space, and Beirov hurriedly chased after him, asking.
"What punishment will you hand down to Her Highness the Grand Duchess?"
He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the aide. The man, flinching his shoulders, added in a determined tone.
"If you let this slide again, the entire retainers will rise up in rebellion. You must impose appropriate punishment on Her Highness the Grand Duchess, if only to appease their anger."
Barcas took another step without saying a word.
Before he knew it, the morning sun was brightly illuminating the surroundings.
Barcas crossed the garden, frozen white by the first frost, and stepped into the Great Hall.
At that moment, his vision suddenly became blurry.
He clutched his forehead. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep for nearly fifteen days. On top of that, he had ridden his horse nonstop for over five days and even spent the night in the forest. It was no wonder his body had reached its limit.
He strained his vision, which was blurry as if covered in frost, and slowly climbed the stairs. When he reached the second floor, he could see the door to Lucas's bedroom beyond the railing of the corridor.
After gazing briefly at the light coming from the door, Barcas soon went up to the third floor.
As he walked down the hallway and reached the door, the guards lined up in a row bowed their heads in unison.
He had the soldiers step back and pulled the doorknob. With the faint creaking of the hinges, the scene of a desolate bedroom surrounded by blue light was revealed before his eyes.
As he stepped inside, he saw Thalia sitting on the spear.
She was leaning against the window with her long hair disheveled, wearing the thin dress she had seen last evening.
Barcas, who had been staring at the diminutive figure from behind as if nailed to the spot, deliberately made a thumping sound as he crossed the room.
The woman looked as if she had been preserved like a taxidermied specimen.
He cast a dry voice toward the back of the woman's head, who remained motionless with her forehead pressed against the windowpane.
"I hereby strip Your Highness of all authority as Grand Duchess. Furthermore, please stay in the annex until Lucas regains consciousness."
She showed no reaction. She was just staring blankly out the window with a face that seemed devoid of all emotion.
Barcas turned his head, inadvertently following her gaze, and stiffened his spine. Hundreds of soldiers were gathered in the middle of the open field, lighting a fire.
They threw something into the blazing crimson flames. Soon, black smoke rose.
A single tear streamed down the face of the woman watching the scene. Barcas, who had been staring with a stern face at the woman weeping silently as if she had forgotten even how to sob, soon turned around.
Just as he was about to leave the room, a chilling voice rang out from behind him.
"I can never forgive you, even if I die."
Barcas turned around again. A blank face, devoid of any emotion, was facing him.
She added, her abyss-like blue eyes shining eerily.
"I won't forgive you until the day I die."
Barcas turned around again. A blank face, devoid of all emotion, was facing him.
She added, her abyss-like blue eyes shining eerily.
"I will never forgive you until the day I die."
Transparent tears streamed down her cheeks incessantly.
As she silently stared at him, Barcas soon turned his back and left the room.
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