The man replied in a heavy tone, casting a deep gaze.
"He said your aorta was ruptured. If it had been a little late, even the priests would not have been able to do anything."
Even when he was told that he had almost lost his life, he couldn't feel much emotion.
As if to check the condition of the tool, Barcas raised his arm and repeatedly bent and straightened his knuckles, and asked the question in a calm tone.
"How is the war going?"
"We have succeeded in recapturing Amasek, but the rebel eradication is still sluggish. It has been confirmed that the Baltic independence forces, led by Bjorn Brodar Heimdall, have established a new base in Jotungar... The terrain is too rugged to enter the army, and we are currently in a state of confrontation."
He looked back at the topography of the north in his head.
Jotungar was a rugged mountain range that straddled the border between the north and east.
The narrow and steep canyons are intertwined like a maze, making it almost impossible for a large number of troops to advance while maintaining their formation. There would be no better enemy to engage in a long-term battle against several times the number of troops.
"Are you trying to drag out time?'
Barcas thought of the red eyes that glowed brightly in the steel helmet.
He was reckless and headstrong, yet his sense of reading the situation was terribly cool-headed.
When the Northern Noble Alliance turned its back, Bjorn Blodar Heimdall immediately won over the people of Balto and rebuilt his power. It occurred to Barcas that he, too, might have been the one instigating the uprisings throughout Balto.
They must have calculated that if they dragged it out for just one or two more years, the empire would gradually collapse from within.
The Roem Imperial Household had currently gathered a massive force by pressuring feudal lords across the region to suppress the rebellion in the north. If they were to demand further support, the discontent of the nobles would reach an irreversible level.
Eventually, at some point, even the imperial family will have no choice but to come up with a compromise.
'You used your head quite well.'
Barcas let out a dry chuckle and slowly raised his upper body. This time, Darren did not try to stop him. He merely gave him a look of disgust.
Ignoring it, Barcas sat on the edge of the bed and asked, letting out a long trail of air filled with time.
“Where am I?”
"This is Dolacan Castle."
The answer came from the doorway.
Barcas turned his head following the sound of footsteps, spotted the second son of the Blesston family, and narrowed his eyes.
The man strode into the room without asking for permission and continued his explanation in a smooth tone.
"I proposed to the warriors of the House of Sheerkhan that we escort Your Excellency here. Since the Imperial delegation and the High Priest of Osiria are staying in this fortress, I judged that it would be helpful for Your Excellency's treatment."
"...I am indebted to you."
As Barcas offered a perfunctory greeting, a faint smile appeared on the man's lips.
"It is not a matter worthy of congratulations. If Your Excellency had become famous like this, wouldn't our plans have come to nothing?"
Darren frowned and watched the man with a wary gaze. It seemed that the offer made to him had not yet been revealed to others.
Barcas let out a cynical laugh.
"So that's why you brought me here, I suppose. Do you want me to bring up that agenda item myself at the meeting?"
"As you know, we are not in a position to dare bring up that matter. If Your Excellency were to step forward personally, things would be much easier."
Barcas twisted his mouth.
It seemed that the Blesston family intended to solidify this marriage as a key prerequisite for concluding the peace treaty.
"You seem to be in quite a hurry."
"It has been nearly three years since the war began. With the entire North becoming devastated, how can I not feel a sense of urgency?"
"If you wanted to protect Balto, you shouldn't have plotted treason in the first place."
"Everyone is bound to make mistakes."
A bitter smile suddenly crossed the corners of the man's lips.
"Isn't the future what matters, not the past? The House of Blesston has decided to put an end to this wretched war. We are also determined to eliminate Bjorn Blodar Heimdall with our own hands if necessary."
"..."
"Your Excellency, surely you also want to end this war as soon as possible."
Barcas did not reply. As he stared intently at his face, the man let out a small sigh and took a step back.
"I do not expect Your Excellency to appear at the meeting immediately. For now, please focus on recovering your health."
The man placed his hand on his chest to show respect and soon left the room.
As soon as the sound of the door slamming shut echoed, Darren asked a question.
"What on earth did he suggest?"
"He asked me to appoint a daughter from his family as the Crown Princess."
Barcas picked up a glass of water from the shelf, moistened his lips, and spoke indifferently.
"It seems they need insurance that the Imperial Family won't turn their backs on them even after signing a peace treaty."
Darren's mouth dropped open. He seemed dumbfounded by the Blesston family's audacity. However, true to his nature as a man of extremely realistic judgment, he appeared to have soon calculated the practical benefits the proposal would bring.
"For now, that is the most peaceful solution to end the civil war. It is also a solution that will appease the resentment of the Northerners."
Barcas let out a weary sigh.
"If His Royal Highness the Crown Prince accepts it willingly... then so be it."
"Of course, he should accept it."
Suddenly, a look of determination crossed Darren's face.
"His Highness the Crown Prince bears significant responsibility for the popular uprising in Balto. Since he sowed the seeds himself, it is only right that he reaps the harvest personally."
Barcas raised one eyebrow as he read the blatant hostility in that voice.
Most of the nobles of the East harbored a vague goodwill toward Gareth, who was also of the bloodline of the House of Sheerkhan. However, the reckless behavior they witnessed in him during the war seemed to be gradually eroding that goodwill.
Darren continued in a cold tone.
"The Grand Duke of the East cannot continue to do the Imperial Household's dirty work forever, can you? With the successful completion of this marriage, Your Excellency, please return to Kalmor now."
A hollow laugh escaped Barcas's lips.
"Are you telling me to disobey His Majesty the Emperor's orders right now?"
"Your Excellency nearly lost your life."
Darren slowly scanned his figure and spoke in a gloomy tone.
"If His Majesty has any conscience, he will not be able to drive Your Excellency the Grand Duke to the battlefield any further."
"..."
"It is time for you to rest. Since becoming Grand Duke, haven't you had a single moment to catch your breath?"
Barcas wore a rare look of speechlessness. The man left the bedroom, telling him to think it over carefully.
Shortly after, priests came to check on his condition. While they applied an unknown medicine to his wound and wrapped a new bandage, Barcas sat leaning back and gazed at the setting sun.
Eventually, when all the treatments were finished, an elderly servant lit a fire in a small brazier and burned some pain-relieving herbs. It was an unnecessary measure, but he did not try to stop it.
He thought about his dream while unconscious, inhaling thick smoke. The image of her smiling brightly amidst the beautiful scenery came vividly back to him. However, that image soon transformed into a face glaring at him with resentful eyes.
Suddenly, curiosity arose.
He wondered how she reacted to the news that he was injured.
"Go and never come back."
A bitter taste lingered in her mouth, as if he had swallowed ash.
Will you be disappointed to see me back alive and well, or...
The thoughts, which had been flowing aimlessly, came to a halt as if blocked by something.
Looking up at the sky, turning black with eyes intoxicated by the medicine, he soon leaned his head against the wall as if exhausted.
A deep, endless darkness was swallowing the night.
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