To think the report he's been waiting for ever since regaining consciousness is nothing but this...
Recalling all the incidents and accidents caused by her, it was not entirely incomprehensible that the retainers were cold, but the strong sense of displeasure was unavoidable.
He threw the parchment into the bonfire the soldiers had lit and looked back at Darren with cold eyes.
"Keep the escorts on standby."
"Those words are..."
"I will head to Kalmor as soon as the withdrawal work is finished."
"I will stop there. I will complete the handover procedures immediately and have the technicians on standby."
The man, having offered a light bow, walked toward the area where Wolfram's cavalry was encamped.
Barcas looked down for a moment at the parchment shriveling black in the flames, then turned back toward the barracks where the commanders were gathered.
***
Once the Northern Alliance forces, consisting of about 8,000 heavily armored warriors, finished constructing their positions, Barcas led the remaining troops toward the southern end of the Jotungar Mountains, leaving some of the Imperial elite units behind. This was to blockade all entry points leading to the rebel stronghold.
After deploying troops along every route through which supplies could pass, he established new Allied positions on the border between the east and the north.
It was the optimal position to immediately support the Northern Alliance forces if the battle situation turned unfavorable, while simultaneously blocking the enemy from escaping via other routes.
Now, Bjorn Blodar Heimdall was no different from a rat in a trap.
Barcas reached into his coat and touched the scar remaining on his side.
It was the first defeat he had suffered since being knighted.
It was not that he did not want to avenge that humiliation with his own hands, but he was a man destined for ruin anyway.
A man consumed by reckless ambition who had plunged the entire North into the agony of war. It was ridiculous to harbor a grudge against the desperate struggle of one who had lost everything due to that folly.
Barcas, who had been gazing at the rugged yet elegant ridges of the Jotungar Mountains with a cynical look, soon turned his head.
In the massive barracks built along the mountain range, the military banners of families pledging allegiance to the Imperial House were fluttering. After scanning the dozens of colorful flags, he soon spurred his horse and moved to the far end of the camp.
The commanders he had appointed as his successors were lined up in a long row in front of the checkpoint. Darren, who was conversing with the knights in the center, spotted him and approached by cutting through the soldiers.
"The handover is complete. Please depart now."
"I will return as soon as Raina's engagement ceremony is over."
"There is no need for that. Aren't you still suffering from the aftereffects of the injury?"
A man standing close to the horse, as if trying to prevent others from hearing, whispered in a low voice.
Barcas frowned. He had not expected that he would notice that fact.
"Please do not worry about this place; stay in the East for the time being and get some rest."
The man added in a firm tone.
Barcas, who had been quietly looking down at that face, finally turned his horse with a low sigh.
"If a problem arises, report it immediately through the emergency contact network."
Then, he passed straight through the checkpoint and began riding his horse along the gentle ridge leading east.
Thirty knights heavily armored in black iron followed in a column for two days.
They were able to reach the eastern border region only when it was time to go to sunset.
After closely examining the livelihoods of the people in the eastern outskirts, including Barlin, from there, Barcas led his subordinates again to the southeast on the second day.
As he finally reached Kalmor, a vast meadow, having already welcomed spring, unfolded before his eyes.
For a fleeting moment, Barcas was seized by a strange illusion that he had traveled through time.
Balto was a harsh land where he spent half the year in winter. Perhaps because of this, there were times when the flow of time felt as though it had stopped.
Looking up at the blue sky pouring out warm sunlight with a sense of unfamiliarity, he soon spurred his horse.
Before long, large and small villages and a massive walled city came into view. As he crossed the center and stepped into the magnificent fortress surrounded by double walls, hundreds of retainers poured out to greet him.
"Welcome, Your Excellency!"
Dismounting from his horse, Barcas carefully surveyed the soldiers filling the training ground and the servants on duty at the outer wall. Indeed, as news of his injury had caused a commotion, worry, and deep relief were intertwined on the faces of his retainers.
"You must have had a hard time traveling such a long distance. Seeing you in good health again makes it feel as if all my worries are clearing away."
Modrian approached him and spoke in a low, clear voice. It seemed as though he intended to completely dispel the vassals' worries.
Barcas gave a half-hearted nod.
"It looks like I've caused you a worry. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so everyone, put aside your unnecessary worries."
"It is truly a fortunate thing. It seems that God is looking after Your Excellency, the Grand Duke, with special care."
The old knight spoke in an exaggerated tone.
Barcas felt a heavy weight of fatigue pressing down on his shoulders and handed the reins of Tork to a servant standing nearby.
"I want to rest. I must go take a break now, so everyone return to your positions."
As soon as his order was given, the people who had swarmed in scattered in all directions.
He walked straight across the training grounds and through the inner gate. Then, passing the flower garden where flowers were beginning to bud, he approached the Great Hall and saw the castle's servants lined up in a row by the gate.
Barcas, who was about to casually cross through the crowd, stopped abruptly in his tracks. An unexpected figure was standing among the crowd that had come up to greet the lord.
For a moment, the flow of the air seemed to stop.
He stood frozen like a stone statue, looking down at the woman standing at the very front of the row of maids.
She was wearing a bangy gray dress draped over her body, with a white veil loosely wrapped around her neatly piled-up blonde hair.
As she slowly lowered the unfamiliar outfit that even exuded an ascetic atmosphere, she raised her head while slightly bowing.
A halo of light filtering through the glass poured down onto the face, which was as exquisite as a marble sculpture placed in a temple corridor, as if shattering.
At that unreal sight, the inside of his throat tightened up for a moment.
Despite her attire being so neat that it bordered on plain, she was breathtakingly beautiful. And she appeared much healthier than when they last met.
Barcas, who had been staring intently at that face that looked so peaceful it felt like a stranger, slowly opened his mouth.
“It’s been a while."
Her blue eyes trembled slightly. However, the sign of agitation soon vanished without a trace.
A woman with long eyelashes lowered replied in a calm voice.
"Long time no see."
He saw her fingers gathered in the center, gently clutching the hem of her skirt. However, the voice that followed was endlessly silent.
"I heard you were injured. I'm glad you returned safely."
He narrowed his eyes.
She was a woman who had been spewing curses filled with resentment right up until the moment he left. It made his stomach churn to see her deliver a perfunctory greeting with such a composed demeanor, as if nothing had happened.
He moved closer to the woman, who wore a detached expression as if she were a stranger.
He could see her shoulders stiffen faintly with tension. However, the two eyes looking up at him were endlessly calm.
At that moment, a strange impulse to shake that composure seized him.
"It must be a shame that I came back alive and well."
As Barcas tilted his head toward her and whispered in a low voice, he could see the woman's lips trembling faintly.
He waited for sharp, biting words to pour out through the gap. However, she did not reply at all. She simply looked up at him silently with shadowed eyes that were impossible to read. For some reason, that lack of reaction sent a sharp stinging pain through his solar plexus.
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