CHAPTER 132

A garrison standing on the northern grassland, which is now overgrown with grass.

The flags waving among the numerous tents had emblems representing the Vatican and the Dragon Slayer Knight Order.

"....Why haven't we entered yet, Sir Ladhu?"

Inside the most ornately decorated commander's tent.

There, Bishop Pierre, without even lifting the cup offered to him, glared at the man standing before him.

"It's been two months since the military uprising began. Yet you still sit idly, merely observing."

His tone was polite, but there is anger inside that cannot be hidden.

Bishop of Shoara, the Heretic Inquisitor.

Pierre continued speaking in a strong tone, as if he could not stand it any longer.

"The God above will not be very pleased with your current unfaithful attitude. Therefore, Sir Ladhu, you must act now..."

"I will."

Despite the anger palpable in Pierre's words, the man seated before him remained nonchalant.

"I am merely waiting for an opportunity."

His neatly combed red hair caught the eye, but his blue eyes, meeting Pierre's, testified that Ladhu had dragon blood.

His blue eyes carried an otherworldly aura, unmistakably not quite human.

"You haven't confirmed how long it will take, right?"

"...".

Ladhu Dragulia of the Dragon Slayer Knight Order.

The man who inherited the blood of the Dragon Blood Duke was glaring at Bishop Pierre and suppressing his vigor.

"So when do you plan to draw your sword?"

"Well, that's not a simple question, is it?"

Although he was in front of a bishop backed by the Vatican, Ladhu's attitude showed no sign of restraint.

For there was only one being in this world whom he feared.

"When my father permits it."

"...".

With his feet on the table, Ladhu shrugged his shoulders.

At Ladhu's nonchalant demeanor, Pierre found himself at a loss for words.

"Please do not mix human intentions with the will of God."

".....Do not worry too much, Bishop. It won't take long, I assure you."

Ladhu lifts the glass of alcohol he poured and shrugs his shoulders.

With an attitude that seemed to say, "Now leave," Pierre could do nothing but swallow his frustration.

The vigor of the dragon released from its leash was already overlooking the Vatican.

"······I'll go and see."

"I won't be seeing you off, Bishop."

In the end, Bishop Pierre had no choice but to exit the tent, lips pressed together in frustration.

The flags raised in the name of God were ultimately issues to be resolved by the swords of men, and no military action could be taken without Ladhu's permission.

It was a contract they agreed upon from the start.

'Screwed.'

As Pierre exited the tent, the midday sun was setting in his eyes.

Shielding his eyes from the blinding glare, he took in the scene.

Flags fluttering in the wind.

Tents pitched in neat rows.

'Even after all this.'

Despite all the preparations, they had ultimately fallen prey to the Dragonblood Duke's intentions.

His justification had been taken away, and the sword had never truly belonged to him from the start.

"······."

Pierre knows why they are so still.

They probably wanted to keep the North in check.

The central forces, which had finally mobilized, were now firmly planted in the heart of the north, using the existence of an evil being as justification.

The stake driven by the Dragonblood Duke was currently suppressing the movements of Iron Duke and the Northern Alliance.

'....I hope it's not too late. Dragonblood Duke.'

Pierre could only hope it wasn't too late while facing the garrison of Baron Utman.

The ominous aura emanating from there had taken on a form, settling like black mist.

It was now so thick that neither the warmth of approaching summer nor the afternoon sun could penetrate it.

※※※※

Unlike yesterday, the empty village feels eerie.

Amidst the eerie silence of the seemingly abandoned village, only forgotten household items lay scattered around.

"Mom, make sure Marie behaves. And stay alert when you get there..."

Amidst the slowly departing crowd, Gott tightly held onto his mother's hand, earnestly pleading.

"Please take care of my mom and Marie. We're family, right? Or rather, we're family now, aren't we?"

"I'll do my best, big brother."

The villagers began to leave the Wisteria village.

In front of them, the village chief shouted frantically, urging them not to leave, but no one paid heed.

It was unreasonable to stand still when they had witnessed the imminent signs of war right before their eyes.

"Stay put in Marcia. Even if it's a territory battle, it is rare for a city to be captured."

"Take care, Gott. Mom is always more worried about you than myself."

Gott's eyes were filled with worry, so much so that it seemed like tears would overflow at any moment.

"······Take care of the money I gave you. Send a letter to Shoara as soon as you arrive. We should be able to at least get in touch there."

"You should take care too, big brother."

They had only just reunited as a family, but once again, they had to part ways.

Sending his family into the perilous path of refuge, Gott felt like his heart was about to burst.

"Tsk."

Vlad clicked his tongue as he looked at Gott, who was preoccupied with the unfortunate send-off.

The son is preparing to bid farewell to his mother.

Vlad, who was quietly watching the scene, scratched his head and frowned.

"Hey, Gott."

"...?"

"Hey, can't you hear me?"

Vlad grabbed Gott, who was busy seeing his family off, by the scruff of his neck and held it in front of his face.

"Why, Captain."

Vlad's expression seemed fierce for some reason.

Feeling uncomfortable with his intense gaze, Gott flinched, but what he heard was far beyond his expectations.

"You're going too."

"Huh?"

Since they were both heading back to Shoara anyway, Gott assumed his guidance would no longer be needed.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a vacation. I'll grant you a long one."

Though brief, Vlad could recall some memories through Gott's family.

So, if possible, he wanted to remember that image fully.

Now, his memories were too old and worn out to recall properly.

"Instead, it's unpaid leave."

"...Captain."

Caught off guard by Vlad's sudden proposal, Gott froze, seemingly startled.

The quick-witted swindlers fingers trembled as if he had noticed something.

"Am I getting fired?"

".....It's just a vacation, damn it."

"Granting a long unpaid leave like this, usually employers use that kind of language for firing."

Vlad felt like he could sense Gott's life frustrations in their conversation.

"Hurry up and go along. See you in Shoara later."

"Uh, yeah!"

Only then did Gott understand Vlad's intention and hurriedly get on the horse.

The consideration hidden in his cold tone.

Vlad's consideration could be felt even in the midst of last night's stirring of the soup pot in front of his mother.

"Thanks, Captain!"

The procession of people visible in the distance beyond the hill somehow looked cheerful.

The moment of parting would be better if it were shorter, but Gott couldn't easily leave his spot.

"I'll just take my mother to a safe place and come right back!"

"Will your seat still be available until then?"

A jab with sincerity.

However, there would be no misunderstanding.

The two who had met on a winter day had grown to understand each other.

".....You're not that good to receive a boat like Harven."

Vlad chuckled bitterly as he watched Gott leave for his family.

Gott had been a swindler when they first met, but now he was leaving with his true self.

Gott of Wisteria Village was running towards its family.

"Yeah, go quickly."

Though he said he'd be back soon, it would take months at least for this parting.

Perhaps they wouldn't see each other again.

Vlad knew well that farewells were so fleeting.

"...To be honest, the potato stew did not taste good."

Watching Gott leave, Vlad finally uttered a word he couldn't say before.

It was like mother's taste, but it didn't taste good.

The afternoon sunlight hanging in the sky tickled Vlad's eyes.

His blue eyes, shielded from the sun by his hand, looked cold in color as he watched the departing people, but the warmth contained within seemed as warm as ever.

※※※※

"Indeed, it gets colder as we head north."

Men walking along a small forest path.

Stefan shivered and leaned closer to Vlad, but his words seemed to wither under the fierce gaze of Noir.

It appeared that Vlad wasn't the only one feeling sad about parting with Gott.

"How far are you planning to follow?"

"To the north. Do we have about a week left until Shoara?"

Stefan and the Thornwood Mercenaries. Currently, they are trailing behind Vlad.

"Why bother following me all the way to Shoara?"

"We haven't found a stable position yet, so we're tagging along."

Their wanderings, which began from the eastern city of Tanoboya, hadn't yet reached a conclusion.

Given the circumstances, the value of mercenaries was on the rise, but that didn't mean they could settle anywhere.

"Choosing an employer is sensible when it comes to taking one's only life."

".....Hearing you, it seems like it wasn't entirely my fault. You've been so picky that's why you haven't found a place until now."

"Haha! That's why I'm still alive."

Stefan simply laughed off Vlad's teasing remarks.

If possible, had to win over this young knight.

'Just doing this much should be enough to earn acceptance.'

His tone was sharp, his attitude cool.

But his actions towards his squire were warm, indicating he possessed a decent character despite his abrasive personality.

'Even if his temperament is questionable, he still has value worth following.'

From their encounter in the Dobrechti Forest to reaching Wisteria Village, Stefan had been by Vlad's side through thick and thin.

It was evident that this lad would grow into someone significant.

Vlad's worth was now shining brightly enough for anyone to see.

"When we arrive in Shoara, how can we receive a mission there?"

"······I don't know, you'll find out when we get there."

If someone has good skills, decent character, and potential for the future, it's best not to hesitate and join forces. 

This was clearly an opportunity, as Vlad even eliminated the strongest enemy on his own.

"Why are you asking about your business?"

"Hehe. Isn't this also fate? How about sharing a drink in Shoara..."

Stefan chuckled amiably, trying to lighten the mood.

But Vlad's eyes narrowed instantly as he looked at him.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

Sounds carried by the wind.

Vlad's keen hearing began to pick up on something.

Approaching sounds from a distance.

The sound of horses' hooves.

"Someone's coming."

"······!"

Vlad quietly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Sensing Vlad's unease, Stefan quickly signaled to his men.

"Get into formation!"

Following his signal, the Thornwood Mercenaries swiftly surrounded Stefan and Vlad on their horses.

Vlad was momentarily surprised by their efficient response.

"I can see it."

"Hmm."

Stefan began to seamlessly stick by Vlad's side, pretending to observe along with him.

In the distance, the figures of approaching men came into view.

'Looks like about twenty of them.'

Though they seemed outnumbered compared to their own group, there was no need to retreat just because of that.

The Thornwood Mercenaries were seasoned men, and Vlad himself now had a clear idea of where he stood.

"Halt. Identify yourselves."

Men in black hoods confidently approach as if they have nothing to hide.

Although they were disguising themselves as ordinary people, Vlad could sense an unusual energy coming from them.

"Now you seem more spirited. You've grown a lot. You are quite different from back then."

"....Do you know me?"

One of the figures, smiling as if he knew Vlad, seemed unfazed by Vlad's raised sword. 

Vlad doesn't know, but there is nothing more suspicious than someone who knows him.

"Who the hell are you? Just answer the question."

"······."

Despite Vlad's sharp demeanor, the man remained unfazed, quietly rummaging through his pockets until he produced a stiff piece of paper with a familiar seal.

"Lord Josef sent me here. Knight Vlad."

"What?"

The man's face becomes visible when he lifts the hood along with the order he is holding.

His face was covered with countless deep scars.

"Do not come to Shoara until further notice. Instead, go to Deomar."

"What?"

Vlad realized the man's identity along with the scars. 

It was a brief encounter, but the man had left an unforgettable impression on Vlad.

"Until further instructions, I command you to act as a knight of Lady Alicia and not as Vlad of Shoara."

The leather pouch Josef had shown in the carriage contained the severed head of the man with his eyes wide open, unable to close them.

"As commanded by the noble blood of the North, Lord Josef Bayezid."

The hidden sword of the Bayezid family.

The knight who had once cut off Endre Hainal's head now stood before Vlad.