Dunathan had not met General Jean Seigey yet. Once, Seigey had been the commander of the Royal Knights, but by the time Dunathan had become a knight, Seigey had already retired, and the position of commander had changed hands twice since then. He had served as a staff officer of the Royal Knights even after the war of Lontamon’s conquest, but now he had retired from that as well.
Dunathan was disgruntled that such an old general was being called upon at this critical time, but there was no one else capable of replacing him. He missed the royal knight whom he had admired most, Hughes Derick.
‘Captain Francis isn’t going to return. Just like when the White Wolves came to Camort, he too must have been killed crossing the border…’
Dunathan swallowed his regret.
Seigey lived in a mansion on the outskirts of Normant. Though large, it was a shabby building in a quite deteriorated place, which seemed far removed from the glamorous retirement life of a general who had once commanded an entire nation. It seemed more fitting as the humble dwelling of a fallen knight in seclusion.
Dunathan knocked on the door and called out loudly. He had sent a letter ahead of time, but no one came to greet him.
‘Did I come to the wrong place?’
Dunathan dismounted his horse and pushed the door. Although it was a rusted door, it was well oiled on the hinges, and it opened smoothly without much creaking. The old building was well maintained with no weeds in the garden and almost no dirty corners. It looked well cared for up to recently.
“Anyone here? I’m from the royal palace.”
In the distance, he heard the loud voices of people. Occasionally, he heard shouting. It seemed to be coming from the back of the mansion.
“Who’s there?”
Instead of a butler or servant he was expecting, two young men, soaked in sweat, opened the mansion door and appeared. One was wearing a worn rag shirt, but the other wore nothing but baggy pants. Dunathan cleared his throat and approached them politely.
“I’ve come from the royal palace. Is the general here? I sent a letter ahead yesterday.”
The somewhat better dressed man gestured and said,
“I’m not sure about the letter, but if you’re from the palace, follow me.”
One of the men murmured in a low voice, ‘See, I told you I heard something,’ and nudged the other man.
Their bodies, with their shirts stripped off, were well toned from exercise. Even after leaving his knighthood, Dunathan had never stopped training and exercising, but looking at their bodies, he felt a surge of energy in his stomach. Always with the old officials and treated as a young one, he couldn’t help but feel his age when faced with truly young men.
The mansion’s lobby was impeccably clean, void of any furniture. While the floor creaked with each step, there was not a speck of dust on the floor or a cobweb on the ceiling. But it felt desolate without a single piece of furniture or decoration. An old, stained towel was all that lay on a table that would have been better off with a vase, and there were no common portraits hanging on the walls.
“Where is General Seigey?”
He had been wondering if this was really a place where people lived, but the men who led him here had already left the lobby.
Beyond the lobby door was a large dining room, also devoid of furniture or decoration. At the end of a long dining table that could accommodate about twenty people, an old man sat alone with tea and biscuits, scratching something with a pen. His white hair and beautifully groomed white beard were slightly sagging.
“Are you General Jean Seigey?”
The old man gestured the two men who had escorted him to leave, and motioned for Dunathan to sit next to him.
“Do we have two enemies to deal with?”
“Pardon?”
Taken aback by the question even before he sat down, Dunathan looked at the old man who seemed to have expected his arrival long before, handing him a prepared teacup and pouring tea.
“These are tea leaves imported from Carnelock, but they have lost their flavor over time.”
“Ah, yes.”
Dunathan answered reflexively and finally took a seat.
“So, who are the adversaries?”
He had intended to leisurely ask about his post-retirement life and explain in detail the recent events at the royal palace, but he had missed the timing. The old general seemed to know everything and had effortlessly steered the conversation his way.
“The Black Lion Count and the Red Rose Count.”
“Lumerier and Johnstein.”
The general changed the subject.
“Yes, indeed.”
“Hmm, how could Johnstein, who was nearly bankrupt, being on the verge of selling his noble title as a count, gather an army strong enough to stand against Count Lumerier?”
“Perhaps he found a pirate’s treasure.”
Despite Dunathan’s joke, the old man didn’t bat an eye. Dunathan cleared his throat and corrected himself.
“It seems his income from his base in Denmoju is considerable. Not enough to accumulate such enormous wealth immediately, but.”
“How about the forces on both sides?”
The general continued with the question at face value. Dunathan didn’t prepare any documents and hesitantly spoke what came to mind. How many infantry, how many spearmen, how many knights.
Then Dunathan quickly added,
“The two counts recently declared a total war against each other and said they wouldn’t even spare Normant. Right now, both have returned to their original territories, but it’s worrisome when they might change their words and enter Normant under the pretext of protecting His Majesty. So for now…”
“We should prepare for a siege. It’s going to be tricky. So, the forces I’ll have are?”
The general clearly stated that he would have an army. He didn’t care that the King’s orders had not yet been relayed. Dunathan welcomed the quick progression of the conversation.
“The combined forces of the army supported by a few nobles like Count Enoa and the royal army will be about 1,500.”
“Both nobles have over ten thousand troops, and I’ll have fifteen hundred. That’s going to be fun.”
“The White Wolves will be added to that.”
“White Wolves? Are you talking about the Wolf Knights of Aranthia?”
“Yes, they are here at the moment by the invitation of His Majesty. Captain Wolf secretly proposed taking this opportunity to create the King’s army. In fact, the reason His Majesty appointed you, General Seigey, as the commander-in-chief this time was due to his suggestion.”
Strictly speaking, Captain Kassel did not have any decisive opinion on this decision or the matter of the two counts. Most of it was just indirect expressions of intention. But it looked as if Kassel had made all the decisions.
“White Wolves?”
He should have been pleased to have such great forces, but the general remained expressionless. And the general got up from his seat and left the dining room without saying anything. Dunathan, who was about to take a sip of his tea, had to leave his cup behind and follow him reluctantly.
“What’s your name, young man?”
“Gene Dunathan. I’m the royal representative.”
“Dunathan. I have a question. Why are Aranthia’s knights included in the forces? Is there a reason we need foreign knights?”
Without even giving Dunathan a chance to answer, the general continued.
“Even if there’s justification, why are they so great that you’re talking as if they’re a major part of the forces? Don’t tell me a young man your age believes in the legendary White Wolves that only appear in fairy tales! What can five disciples of Master Quain do? Do I have to obey their commands?”
“That’s not it, General. Please consider the strategic utility that comes from their presence. They can boost the morale of our forces while demoralizing the enemy. The power from the legends you mentioned can indeed be exercised in reality.”
“Nonsense! What we need is the number of soldiers and the strength to physically fight in battle.”
The general walked across the hallway leading to the backyard. The voices of people resonated on the wooden walls.
“Dunathan, I know this Quain fellow. He’s just a fine knight who wields a sword a bit better than an average knight. The White Wolves are probably the same. Knights much superior to the lazy knights of Camort. But I have fifty such knights, not just five.”
The general opened the back door. The large courtyard was teeming with men honing their swords. Up until now, Dunathan had thought this place was a residence for retired veterans to spend their time leisurely. Only now did he understand why the king had immediately chosen General Jean Seigey.
This old man was already preparing for war, confident that someday he would be called upon.
“Captain Jarlan!â€
The general bellowed in his resonant voice. The training men abruptly halted their movements and adopted a stationary stance. One among them stepped forward.
“These men here are the knights I have been training separately since the prestigious name of the royal knights fell to the ground. And this is Captain Trijay Jarlan.”
Jarlan bowed his head silently in greeting.
“Pleasure to meet you.â€
Dunathan also returned the greeting briefly. The general, hand resting on Jarlan’s shoulder, spoke with conviction.
“White Wolves, you say? Those boastful poets would have you believe that fifty Wolf Knights held off several hundred Excelon Knights. Soon, you’ll witness my fifty knights here hold off hundreds from the Black Lion Knights and the Rose Knights. And Captain Jarlan will show you how much the existence of these so-called White Wolves has been exaggerated. Do they have them in the royal court?â€
General Seigey didn’t give Dunathan a chance to retort, continuing his speech. Dunathan finally responded, intimidated by Jarlan’s piercing gaze, which seemed to threaten to skewer him on the spot.
“They are awaiting your arrival, general.â€
“Well, let’s go then. It’s time to show these nobles stuck here that I am still very much alive.â€
☆ ☆ ☆
The roofless structure, separated from the king’s castle in Normant by a small forest, was the training ground once used by the royal knights. The track for practicing mounted combat, the stable large enough to comfortably house about thirty horses, the circular arena surrounded by a fence, and the stone floor with lines drawn for tactical training were all still intact. However, due to lack of proper care over a long period of time, things had fallen into disrepair, dust had collected on the training tools, and most importantly, the training ground had lost its characteristic fervor.
“What do you think?â€
Kassel sought advice from Sheyden.
To the meeting place for the veteran known as Seigey and the knights he was bringing, Kassel had brought only Sheyden and Azwin with him. Going alone would have been burdensome, but it wouldn’t look good for all of them to go either. He had intended to only bring Sheyden along, but Azwin had insisted on coming.
Lately, Azwin couldn’t control her remaining energy and had become restless. When Gerald teased that it was sexual frustration, she was ready to draw her sword and fight him right there and then. Gerald, expecting such a response, had grabbed his axe in return. My son, let’s do this, I’ve been waiting, I’ve always disliked you, don’t mess with me… Faced with these ominous words, Kassel had to intervene to keep the peace.
When two tigers play, the cat watching doesn’t know whether they’re fighting or playing. Kassel had felt something like that as he broke up the fight, but seeing that Sheyden said nothing, he wondered if it might have been better to let them be.
In any case, Azwin’s discontent was at its peak. If she wasn’t allowed to participate in something like this, she might have run off to smash the castle gate herself.
Gerald and Dunmel decided to explore the castle separately. Dunmel especially emphasized the need to familiarize himself with the place. They weren’t as blatant as Azwin, but they too wanted to move around. Sheyden said nothing, but who knew what was going on in his mind. Kassel had neither the will nor the power to control them, but he had to at least let them loose in name.
“It’s a mess.â€
Azwin answered in Sheyden’s stead.
Sheyden halted his inspection of the place, agreeing with her.
“We should get some repairs done first. It’ll take a day. But if this training ground has become this run-down due to neglect, it means the soldiers here have been without training for just as long. Trying to make up for that gap with sudden training is going to be hard.”
Kassel, poking at the rusted swords stuck in the ground, the dust-covered wooden swords, and the spears whose tips were so blunt they couldn’t even pierce fruit, voiced his thoughts.
“My father used to say the same thing. You can foresee the outcome by looking at the soldier’s sword and the farmer’s hoe… He mentioned it a few times when I offered to replace a few broken farming tools. He said even the diligent farmer’s shovel is slightly broken.”
“Oh, you often talk about your father. What kind of man is he?”
Azwin asked.
“A farmer.”
Kassel bluntly replied. He might have tried to hide it in the past, but now he strangely didn’t think it mattered what his father did.
“A farmer? Then, what kind of work did he do?”
“What kind of work? He was a farmer, so he grew wheat.”
“No, I mean… before he became a farmer!”
Kassel knew what Azwin wanted to say. He himself had recently had the same question.
“I might not know all about my father’s past, but he said he’s been a farmer from birth until now. He himself said so, and so did the villagers. Unless they’re all lying.”
Azwin didn’t look convinced at all.
“If it weren’t for the strange son, it wouldn’t be strange at all, but it seems otherwise.”
Truthfully, even if Kassel had asked his father directly, his father wouldn’t have willingly confessed, ‘Actually, I was the missing eldest son of a prestigious family.’ However, it was also difficult to believe that he had always been a farmer. Kassel had always suspected it a bit, but he felt it more once he left his father’s care.
Other farmers around him, like Janette’s father or the village chief — the really ordinary farmers — would take off their hats and bow their heads at the sight of any kid who was invited to a birthday party hosted by a cousin of some rural lord. But his father didn’t even acknowledge real nobles passing by on horseback. He ignored them so proudly that even those nobles thought he must be someone important and moved on.
Moreover, other farmers just diligently lived their lives as they always had, believing that God would take care of the rest and their crops would be harvested. However, his father tried hard to increase the yield by predicting how much rain would come or how long the drought would last. If the yield was still poor, then he would finally point at the sky and yell.
‘Didn’t we do enough? Why does this keep happening?’
There had never been a farmer interested in politics, and Kassel’s father didn’t talk about politics either. But when he got drunk, he would spill all kinds of secrets about the royal family and the knights. You could say that all of Kassel’s political knowledge came from there.
While waiting, Kassel told Azwin one by one about his father, and after hearing everything, Azwin concluded.
“I think your father is more than just a farmer.”
“I told you. My grandfather was a farmer, and his father also farmed the same wheat on the same land.”
“Yes, yes, a farmer. But has he never left that land? Not even once to go outside the village?”
Azwin was persistent.
Before Azwin could lean closer, Kassel spoke.
“When he was young, he traveled abroad for about three years.”
“There you go!”
Azwin was delighted to find an answer.
That’s when Sheyden pointed to a group coming from the opposite side of the training field.
“The people we were expecting are coming. It looks like the oldest person is the commander this time. Ah, and Kassel, what kind of person was your mother? I was wondering since your father was just a farmer.”
“You two are really persistent. Am I some kind of wizard? Do I have special abilities inherited by blood?”
Kassel was frustrated, and Azwin chuckled.
“For muscle-heads like us, a guy like you seems to have amazing abilities. It’s more impressive than shooting fire from your fingertips. So, your mother?”
Kassel gave up and answered.
“My mother passed away from illness when I was two years old. I heard she had been unwell since she was young.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Both Azwin and Sheyden apologized at the same time.
“It’s okay.”
As Dunathan led his soldiers forth, gesturing to Kassel, Kassel responded by raising his hand in greeting. By his side were knights and the general, already armed as if prepared for battle. All their eyes were fixed on Kassel and his companion, the White Wolves, as if they were enemies.
Watching them, Azwin offered a light smile and shot a glance at the knights. Sheyden also hardened his usually soft expression, a gesture reserved only for his comrades and Kassel. It was an effective weapon when dealing with these nobles. Moreover, it allowed Kassel to relax, preventing him from overexerting himself. With both sides maintaining a tense atmosphere, it was balanced enough that Kassel’s casual smile didn’t seem out of place.
‘Hmm, we’ve won the staring contest at least!’
The approaching soldiers subtly averted their eyes when they saw Sheyden and Azwin glaring at them. However, the older general and the tall knight beside him did not waver at all.
‘Two of them didn’t back down.’
In the awkward silence, Dunathan awkwardly laughed as he introduced the older general.
“Did you rest well yesterday? This is General Jean Seigey, who once led the Royal Knights and will now command the army of Normant. And this one here is…”
“Trijay Jarlan. I serve as the captain of the knights under General Seigey.”
Surprisingly, Jarlan stepped forward, extending his large hand. This was more than just an impolite greeting from a young captain. Given that the general showed no reaction to his action, it could’ve held some symbolic meaning they’d agreed upon beforehand.
‘What’s this? A handshake between captains?’
Though he didn’t particularly want to shake hands, Kassel had no choice but to do so, else Jarlan might keep his hand extended until Kassel returned to his hometown to farm.
“I am Captain Kassel of the White Wolves…”
Before Kassel could finish speaking, he stumbled backward, reeling from a sudden slap across the face from Jarlan.
More shocked than in pain, Kassel clutched at his cheek. Jarlan looked at his own hand as if someone else had controlled it to deliver the blow and said,
“Oh, dear! I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be able to dodge that. I apologize for my actions.”
The one who tried to rush forward was Azwin, and the one who stopped her was Sheyden. Jarlan gave Azwin a quick glance, then offered a dispassionate smile.
“I’ve heard countless rumors about the White Wolves. The legendary battles, the overwhelming swordsmanship. But no matter their reputation, I have no intention of entrusting the fate of Camort to them. Instead of Dunathan, our two counts are welcoming the king’s active stance in the war, and I intend to pour out a hundred percent of my power. However, I can’t accept anyone other than General Seigey above me.”
Dunathan seemed too surprised to fully understand Jarlan’s words. General Seigey added to Jarlan’s statement without a hint of disconcertion in his voice.
“I have always saved my strength for when His Majesty stands alone, and I have recruited many talents to fill the void left by Derick and Meorix. Among them, Captain Jarlan, whom I personally trained, possesses a level of swordsmanship that doesn’t lose to anyone in this country. It’s not my concern if the White Wolves came here to play, but I don’t plan on asking them for help.”
Dunathan, not knowing what to do, merely looked back and forth between Kassel, who was touching his slapped cheek, and Jarlan, who casually rested his hand on his hip.
‘The place left by Derick and Meorix…’
Kassel touched the torn part inside his mouth with his tongue. There was a bit of blood, but the injury wasn’t severe. The more significant damage was to his ego for being underestimated, and even more so, to the honor of the White Wolves.
Kassel didn’t feel anger. He’d been hit countless times since childhood, be it by Luchi’s gang or bandits, and his body was covered with scars. He had no self-esteem to be hurt by a mere slap. From an objective point of view, a knight beating a farmer would hardly be a matter to fuss over. But this was different.
Kassel was no longer a farmer, but Captain Wolf. The fury in Jarlan’s eyes and fists was nothing compared to the gaze of the White Wolves watching from behind.
‘I have no reason to be angry, but I need to show anger. I am not slighted in the slightest, but I have to play the role of a captain whose pride is hurt and riled up.’
Kassel withdrew his hand from his slapped cheek and looked back at Jarlan.
‘I will have to unite forces with a general who already asserts his power. And the captain of the knights, who must fight in the forefront during battle, is a young man eager to prove his prowess. What a mess from the start.’
Jarlan seemed a few years older than Kassel, but being around the aged nobles at the royal court made him look like a green boy. The real adversary was General Seigey. If his father’s words were true, all power-seekers desire more power. And a power-seeker who has tasted loss desires power even more. Applying this simple principle made it easy to analyze Seigey’s actions.
‘He wants to remove the White Wolves, seeing them as obstacles to his rise to power.’
The slap on Kassel’s cheek was not a spontaneous act by Jarlan alone. General Seigey had used Jarlan as his weapon and sent him to confront Kassel.
‘Well, then I have to become an angry Captain Wolf. How should I show anger befitting a knight of the Wolves?’
Kassel approached Jarlan, standing so close their bodies almost touched.
“Try hitting me again.”
Jarlan did not back down at all.
“What did you say?”
“I said hit me again.”
Kassel spoke politely.
“Well, I don’t mind.”
Without anyone stopping him, Jarlan hit Kassel again with his fist. Kassel staggered back a few steps and finally slumped down. Crossing his arms, Jarlan retorted.
“Why? Did you think I would be scared if you told me to hit you again, or were you planning to dodge it grandly? Well, it seems like both plans failed.”
At his words, all the soldiers except General Seigey burst into laughter.
Sheyden and Azwin watched it all with cold expressions. Sitting down, Kassel gently rubbed the spot where he was hit before getting up. He didn’t try to hide or suppress the pain. Instead, he exaggerated his actual suffering. Luckily, his lips split, and blood flowed.
‘Ah, lucky me. Now I can show more credible anger.’
“General Seigey!”
Kassel said, ‘Ouch, it hurts,’ and groaned loudly on purpose. Seigey, who had initially underestimated Kassel when Jarlan hit him the first time, now had a hardened expression.
‘Realize my intentions, General. If you can’t even notice that, you won’t stand a chance against the two Counts.’
With that thought, a surge of anger welled up in him.
“Honestly, I think you would have asked Jarlan to attack me for two reasons, General. One is that you want to hold all command in the future and don’t want us to intervene. And the other is that you want to shatter the soldiers’ reliance on the strength of the White Wolves. Isn’t that right? Well, it doesn’t matter whether it’s right or wrong now.”
Kassel spat out blood-mixed spit.
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
Jarlan seemed upset that Kassel was ignoring him and continuing to speak. But Kassel still disregarded Jarlan.
“In that regard, you made two mistakes, General Seigey. And this won’t be a matter of whether you are right or wrong this time. One is that I initially had no intention of issuing orders to you, General, or of taking your position. I don’t know what Dunathan has told you, but we have no intention of controlling this war. The second mistake is that the person you slapped is the captain of the White Wolves.”
It was then that Kassel finally glared at Jarlan. He had nothing more to say to Seigey.
“Captain Jarlan, the reason I asked for a second hit was to make an excuse that I couldn’t dodge the first one on purpose…”
As Kassel rubbed his red-swollen cheek and spat out more blood-mixed spit, he glanced back and saw Sheyden, arms folded, silently glaring at Jarlan. Azwin was clutching her shield tightly, and Kassel made a mental note of her appearance.
“The reason I didn’t ask for a third punch was because I feared I might kill you in my anger. But if I only took one punch and let it end there, it would tarnish the reputation of the White Wolves. Taking another punch gives some justification to my anger.”
“What kind of justification?”
Kassel asked with a grin.
“So, Jarlan, are you really going to fight a White Wolf?”
Jarlan laughed as if he’d received a massive gift.
“I was hoping for that.”
Kassel smirked.
“Alright, I’ll fulfill your expectation. But it’s tricky if I have to grab the sword now. I’m a fool who couldn’t dodge your fist. I’ll leave this duel to a friend of mine whose anger has cooled down a bit.”
Without waiting for Jarlan’s consent, Kassel turned around.
“Azwin!”
Azwin, as if she had been waiting, stepped forward and stood by Kassel. In the meantime, Kassel, without looking at Jarlan, reassured him.
“Don’t worry, Jarlan. She won’t kill you to avenge a slap.”
Jarlan, flushed with excitement, couldn’t hide his exhilaration.
“If she loses, will you step forward, Captain Wolf?”
“If my friend loses, I’ll just take the third slap with your sword.”
At Kassel’s response, Azwin chuckled and asked.
“What’s your plan, Captain?”
Azwin was prepared to spring forward like an arrow after taking aim.
“Don’t kill him. But.”
“But?”
“You need to win overwhelmingly.”
“Are you not worried of losing manpower?”
“I’m not.”
Kassel replied coolly, looking beyond the hill of the training ground. A few soldiers of the castle were looking in their direction.
“Losing one to gain much more is worthwhile.”
Azwin adjusted the angle of her shield and stood in front of Jarlan. Jarlan seemed rather displeased with his opponent being a woman.
Azwin, seemingly accustomed to such expressions, warned.
“Hey, Trijay. Are you ready to get punished?”
Jarlan shrugged his shoulders.
“I am ready to punish.”
“Ah, I wasn’t joking. I’m really going to punish you.”
Azwin tapped her forehead with her round shield, letting out a mischievous smile. Jarlan, seemingly amused, swiftly extended his sword.
“I’m looking forward to seeing how you’ll punish me.”
Azwin lightly pushed her shield against his sword, and they both stepped back, marking the start of the duel. The onlooking soldiers, Dunathan, and General Jean Seigey all stepped back in unison. The castle guards who had been watching from a distance came a bit closer.
Jarlan moved swiftly left and right, his bulky figure performing nimble movements. The speed of his sword attack was so fast that it was almost invisible to Kassel’s eyes.
“Why, why are you starting a fight?”
Dunathan approached Kassel and asked.
“Does a duel need a reason among knights? If they both want to fight, just let them be.”
Kassel looked at General Jean Seigey. The General was glaring back. Almost simultaneously, they read each other’s eyes.
‘You’ll regret this, Captain.’
‘You’ll regret this, General.’
A loud cheer rose from the soldiers. Azwin was being pushed back by Jarlan’s one-sided attack. Kassel didn’t think Azwin would lose. Even if she did, he was fine with taking a slap from a sword on one cheek.
However, winning by a hair’s breadth after being pushed back wasn’t much better than not dueling at all. What Kassel wanted was an overwhelming result.
“Don’t worry, Captain.”
Sheyden said in a soft voice, conscious that Dunathan was listening.
“All the Wolf Knights know who they least want to fight, right? When Azwin’s playfulness kicks in, the result of that match is always humiliating. Can’t you see her eyes? I think Captain Jarlan will regret today’s match for the rest of his life.”
Jarlan’s attack speed was increasing. He swung his sword fast as if playing with Azwin, and each time she narrowly blocked it with her shield.
“Is it not yet? How long do I have to wait for you to punish me?”
Jarlan spoke in a voice that sounded like he’d already won. His subordinate soldiers were also cheering. Dunathan seemed confused that the White Wolves were being pushed back instead. The match seemed to be tipping in Jarlan’s favor.
“Phew, I finally did it.”
Azwin put a bit of distance between them, lowered her shield, and rested a hand on her hip. Seeing her posture, as if she were conceding the duel, Jarlan halted his attack momentarily.
“What’s this, Azwin of the White Wolves? Are we done already?”
“No, not at all. I just had a bit of spare time and scribbled ‘Trijay’ with my foot on the ground. Would you like to see it?”
Perplexed by her words, Jarlan looked down only to find his name inscribed in the dirt. In the brief moment he took his eyes off her, Azwin had moved right in front of him, squatting and adjusting the letters with the tip of her sword.
“Oh my, it’s a bit crooked here.”
Caught off guard, Jarlan swung his sword wildly, but Azwin had already retreated three paces back.
The cheering from the soldiers ceased. Those watching from the sidelines, too engrossed in Jarlan’s prowess, were unaware of what had just happened.
“Prepare yourself for my punishment, Sir Knight.”
Humming, Azwin sheathed her sword and instead drew a short sword from her ankle. She dropped her stance dramatically low and growled, “I’ll stop only if you beg me to.”
Overcome by frustration, Jarlan charged without thinking and swung down his sword. Azwin evaded his attack by sliding on her hands and swiftly nicked his instep with her sword. The blade pierced through his foot, embedding into the ground.
“Ugh!”
Jarlan jerkily flung his body backwards. Grinding his teeth in agony, he quickly surveyed Azwin’s position. She was still squatting, looking up at him, not releasing the sword embedded in his foot, and sporting a wicked smile as if taunting her opponent.
Jarlan attempted to stab Azwin’s face with the reversed tip of his sword, but his blade scraped off her shield with a harsh metallic sound and dug into the ground. Not losing momentum, Jarlan swung his two-handed sword again, but once more, it was deflected by her shield. The third strike was outright repelled by the lifted shield.
Jarlan’s attacks continued. He tried stabbing from above, slashing sideways, yanking at her shield, kicking at her other leg — all in an attempt to unsettle the squatting Azwin. Yet, she effortlessly blocked or evaded all his attacks.
Jarlan’s strikes became slower and duller as his strength waned. The blood from his foot formed a puddle, and his supporting leg wavered. He thrust his sword with almost the weight of his body in the last attempt, but Azwin easily dodged by pivoting around the sword embedded in his foot. Eventually, he dropped to his knees, unable to escape the sword.
Azwin said nothing. She simply watched Jarlan squirm in agony, much like a child watching a frog struggle after pinning it down.
Jarlan dropped his sword and gripped the sword lodged in his foot with both hands. But his strength was no match for Azwin’s grip. He glared at her, shaking, but refused to surrender.
Forgetting any semblance of knightly dignity, he tried to headbutt Azwin, who was right in front of him. But she simply gripped his forehead with the hand holding the shield.
“The punishment’s not over yet!”
Azwin spoke with a hint of suppressed rage. Through her fingers, she saw fear ripple through Jarlan’s eyes. She tugged at the sword piercing his foot, moving backwards slowly. Naturally, Jarlan’s body was dragged along.
“Ah..aah!”
Unable to endure the pain, Jarlan screamed, falling backwards. His futile struggles continued — he tried to kick Azwin, to push her away, but he couldn’t break free. Instead, his other shin was shattered by a swift blow from her shield. A long streak of blood marked the path he had been dragged.
“Stop it.”
One of Jarlan’s subordinate knights couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to step in, but Sheyden extended his long spear to block him.
“This is a formal duel between two knights.”
“How can you call this a duel? Is it the Wolf Knights’ way to torment people as if it’s some kind of game?”
One of the subordinate knights roared.
“If you detest a protracted fight and consider dying in a single strike honorable, why don’t you take his place?”
Sheyden spoke. The knight who had yelled fell silent.
At that moment, Azwin’s voice was heard.
“What did he say?”
Then, Jarlan, who was bleeding, added on.
“I, I’ve lost.”
“Uh-huh, that’s not what I’m referring to. I told you I’d stop when you said something, didn’t I?”
“Please stop. Please no more…”
Azwin pulled her hand away from the sword stuck in his foot and got up. She then gestured to Jarlan’s subordinates.
“Take him to the doctor. Leave the sword as it is. If you pull it out here, the bleeding will be too severe. The sword will need to be returned later.”
Jarlan’s subordinates glared at Azwin with hatred-filled eyes, but they had no choice but to carry Jarlan towards the castle as directed.
“Regardless of right or wrong, this was excessive.”
Finally, Dunathan managed to open his mouth. Kassel extended his hand to silence him. Instead, he called for General Jean Seigey.
“General, can we have a word?”
His men immediately tried to stop the general at the mention of a private conversation, but the general scolded them instead.
“Are you trying to make me a coward?”
In the end, he approached Kassel without a single person beside him.
“Shall we take a walk, Captain?”
“Sounds good, General.”
They left the training ground and walked towards the castle. The silence that followed was enough to make even General Seigey nervous.
‘One of the White Wolves just toyed with and broke down the best knight he has raised. It’d be tough for even an experienced general to keep calm.’
Although he felt sorry for the old general, Kassel wished that he’d be more tense. Eventually, as he had hoped, the general spoke first.
“What’s your intention?”
“Would you prefer I beat around the bush?”
“I’m no politician.”
“But your actions say otherwise?”
“What?”
The general stopped walking. Kassel didn’t stop and walked a few steps ahead, then swiftly turned around. The old man’s eyes were blazing with anger. It was a look of anger he could accept because he had expected it, but if it had been unexpected, it would have terrified him.
“What were you trying to achieve by using Captain Jarlan, General? To scare me? What did you hope to gain from such calculated actions?”
“You’re an insolent youth. I’ve been through countless battlefields even before you were born. Watch your tongue.”
“Then discipline me.”
“What do you mean?”
General Jean Seigey looked confused.
“I’m saying, discipline me. Then, all I have to do is bow my head in front of you respectfully.”
Kassel took a step towards the general and whispered.
“I just retired your most excellent knight without lifting a finger. How could such a vicious group of White Wolves lead an army? Absolutely not. They’d be terrified. But what if the captain of those fearless White Wolves is disciplined by the general of the Camort Royal Family and bows his head?”
“The subordinates who are watching me… will respect me more…”
“Exactly. Don’t be afraid of me, General. And accept the White Wolves as a reliable ally. Our enemy is outside.”
Kassel spoke without pausing to breathe.
“You’re a cunning youth. Is Captain Wolf suggesting that he will bow to an old general like me?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
“Captain Derick.”
The sudden name made the general surprised again. He had said it hoping for a reaction.
“Before coming here, I met a bandit named Falcon. It was a coincidence. But now that I’m here, it doesn’t seem like a coincidence anymore.”
“Are you saying that De, Derick has turned into a bandit? Under the name Falcon? I can’t believe it.”
“You didn’t know. Did you also not know about Meorix’s death?”
“Meorix is dead? That can’t be!”
“You will soon see whether my words are true or not. Since coming to this land, I have been constantly disappointed, but I have learned knighthood through those two. And loyalty to the king. What do I gain? I am not seeking to gain, but to repay. To repay Falcon, who saved my life. He is still worried about this country.”
Kassel took one step closer as he spoke.
“Now, scold me. Quickly!”
“What, what do you want me to do? To act?”
“Act? Are you not even angry about Captain Jarlan, who was injured by my hand and carried away? Why is that acting?”
The general evaded Kassel’s gaze in surprise.
“What words should I use to scold you?”
“Do I need to teach you the lines? How about this? ‘You rascal, Captain Wolf!’ Then keep whispering like this. Loud enough for everyone to look this way. Can’t you scold loudly? If you were my father, you’d be yelling loud enough for the maidens in the castle to run out. Hey, what kind of general can’t raise his voice? Are you too old?”
The general’s face distorted without mercy. And he yelled with a booming voice.
“You rascal, Captain Wolf!”
Kassel was startled and stepped back. Indeed, the general’s voice was imposing.
“That’s just right.”
“Just now, I was really angry and yelled.”
“It’s okay. Even if you’re really angry.”
Kassel took two steps back as planned, raised his hand to his chest, and saluted.
“Now you can do as you please. Everyone who saw this spectacle will know that the captain of the White Wolves showed respect to General Seigey.”
“Do you think the story will be that simple?”
“If it were just one or two people, it wouldn’t work. But rumors will distort the truth. Frankly speaking, who would sincerely follow an old general who retired and returned? Especially when they have to fight against the Black Lion Count and the Red Rose Count, whom they fear deeply. Such an army will need a commander who is capable of subduing the captain of the Wolf Knights.”
The general’s expression wavered. Kassel lowered his head.
“Now, please pat my shoulder.”
“Why?”
“We have to appear to have reconciled.”
“Now you’re just toying with me.”
“You said you couldn’t act, didn’t you? That’s why I’m teaching you.”
General Seigey awkwardly placed his hand on Kassel’s shoulder. Kassel bowed his head and stood by his side.
“Now let’s walk again.”
“I’m afraid of what I’ll have to act out next.”
“You don’t have to act anymore. It’s over. Rather, tell me how to defend Normant against the two Counts.”
“Why?”
“That’s what we have to do now. I want to hear in detail. I don’t know anything about strategy or tactics.”
☆ ☆ ☆
After sending off General Seigey, Kassel walked over to a large tree and leaned on it. He felt like he was going to vomit. He slid down and sat leaning against it, and soon Sheyden and Azwin came over.
“Captain Kassel getting scolded by General Seigey? Wasn’t that not in the plan?”
Sheyden asked with a smile.
“The general did something that wasn’t in the plan. My head hurts so much.”
“Not your cheek?”
“My head. I was worried I might say something wrong, or hurt the general’s pride…”
“Well, seems like it turned out alright.”
Sheyden also set his iron bars against the tree and sat down on the grass for a moment. Azwin had already cozied up next to Kassel and asked,
“How did I do? Did I do well?”
“It seems to have had a good effect. It wasn’t the duel scene I had imagined, though.”
“What were you imagining?”
Azwin grumbled. Kassel laughed and then sighed.
“When Jarlan hit me in the face earlier… If it were you, could you have stopped it, Azwin?”
“I would have punched him in the face without stopping. Actually, if I were right next to you, I could have protected you, but I was a little careless too. I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”
Azwin gently stroked Kassel’s face. Kassel avoided it, feeling embarrassed, and Azwin found it even more amusing and continued to touch his face.
Sheyden said,
“You want to block Jarlan’s punch like Azwin, don’t you?”
“Yes. It would have been cooler if I had blocked it with my own strength.”
“Being self-sufficient can certainly be admirable. But knowing how to utilize those around you to fill in your own deficiencies is also impressive. That, too, is a form of ability.”
“And how can it be called an ability when one cannot handle their own tasks and instead shoves them onto someone else?”
Kassel spoke in a dejected tone, standing up.
“I think I need to head back first. My throat’s parched.”
Sheyden watched Kassel’s retreating back as he headed towards the castle, folding his arms. Next to him, Azwin imitated his stance and said,
“Did you hear that, Sheyden? He’s asking how that could possibly be considered an ability.”
“That’s something Loyal said not too long ago.”
“I get why I could accept him so easily despite my initial irritation when I first met him. He’s exactly like Loyal. He’s smart and eloquent, so I didn’t realize it until now.”
Sheyden thought Loyal could wield a sword without any prior motion. As far as Sheyden knew, the only other person who could do that was the Master. Killing someone by wielding a sword without any killing intent wasn’t a skill one could learn.
“What were you thinking when Jarlan slapped Kassel’s cheek?” Sheyden asked.
“I was furious. I intended to make him pay tenfold. Of course, I planned to do it secretly, not in a public place like this.”
“I felt similarly. Honestly, my first thought was, ‘How dare he do this to a member of the White Wolves!’ But Kassel, the moment he was hit, calculated he’d be hit again and put you forward, Azwin. Why you, not me?”
“Because I seemed angrier?”
“No, because you’re a woman.”
“What?”
Azwin narrowed her eyes.
“He deemed it better to put forward you, who appears weaker and prettier than me, who seems strong at first glance. A slender girl who’s showing her thighs managed to throw off the knight that General Jean Seigey declared the strongest. So in the eyes of the ordinary soldiers, Gerald and I must seem much more terrifying than that.”
“So, that’s how it is.”
Azwin appeared convinced, but she quickly shook her head.
“Nah, do you really think Kassel thought that far?”
“He did.”
“How do you know?”
“I asked him yesterday. He asked me who he should put forward if someone wanted to ‘get to know the capabilities of the White Wolves’ through a one-on-one fight.”
“So you recommended me? Then that’s your idea, not Kassel’s.”
Sheyden, suppressing a smirk, picked up a sword again and scanned the soldiers training on the field. He glanced back at General Jean Seigey and Dunathan, who were watching from a distance, their faces hard to discern, and said,
“Azwin, remember, a month ago, that guy Kassel was a lowly soldier without a rank, and two months ago, he was a farmer.”
“So? What’s new about that?”
“Do you still not understand what I’m so surprised about?”
Azwin frowned and made a disgruntled noise.
“Stop being so smug! I don’t know, so what?”
As he started walking back towards the castle, Sheyden said,
“Right now, Kassel is doing something he hasn’t learned. It’s like copying someone’s swordsmanship after seeing it just once. He’s applying what he asked yesterday, today? That’s exactly like Loyal.”
“Well, at least that’s something I can’t do.”
Azwin replied, sounding a little disheartened.
☆ ☆ ☆
General Jean Seigey, who had been watching the White Wolves’ departure from a distance, asked Dunathan,
“Who exactly is that man?”
“Who are you asking about?”
“Kassel.”
“The captain of the Wolf Knights…”
Dunathan spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, then added,
“…You’re not asking about his position, are you?”
It wasn’t uncommon for Captain Jarlan to leave during training, so the cleanup was quickly taken over by another knight. The soldiers began cleaning, and other chores were rapidly assigned.
“If we ever go to war with Aranthia, I absolutely refuse to be the commander. Just imagining a captain like him, knights like them… it’s horrifying,” the general said.
Dunathan thought about what he was going on about, then decided it was merely his rambling and replied,
“General, Aranthia does not engage in invasive wars.”
“Not so? Look here, Dunathan. Who exactly do the five seated in the royal court think they are? They may bear friendly intentions, but what if Captain Wolf decides to take over this country? If five knights of the caliber of the woman who just played with and then knocked out Jarlan decide to take over this palace, who could possibly stop them?”
Dunathan felt a shiver in his heart. He wasn’t sure whether Count Enoa was trying to warn him about something. As General Jean Seigey left the training ground, taking a few knights with him, he said,
“I have no choice but to believe that they genuinely want to aid the King of Camort.”
☆ ☆ ☆
Dunmel and Gerald were on the third floor of the castle. Dunmel was checking for danger spots throughout the castle from a window, while Gerald, seemingly bored, was yawning and looking at the paintings hung on the wall. When Dunmel turned his head towards him, Gerald finally spoke.
“What do you think?”
Dunmel responded in sign language.
‘It’s too easy for assassins to hide here. The walls are high and the moats are deep, making it hard to break in, but once inside, we’re left defenseless.’
“Talking about war, or a surprise attack?”
Gerald asked and Dunmel continued to respond in sign language.
‘Both.’
“If we go to war, we’ll have to defend from the ramparts of Normant Castle.
‘That castle wall is too low. If an army decides to invade, it won’t last an hour.’
“Then we have to hope they don’t attack.”
While the two were quietly talking, several of the castle’s guards approached nervously.
Gerald greeted them cordially.
“Do you guys need something, friends?”
“Are you the White Wolves?”
One of them asked cautiously.
“Yes.”
There were four of them, and the soldier who had greeted them first seemed to have taken on the role of spokesperson.
“Is it true that the two counts are planning to attack us?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. It’s more like if one of the two counts attacks Normant, we will oppose them.”
“But that means there will be a war, right?”
“It could happen, but it could also not. I really don’t know.”
“If war does break out, will you be the ones leading us?”
“Where did you hear that? Obviously, the Camort Army will be led by a Camort General.”
Gerald replied with a laugh.
“So at least you will be fighting on our side, right?”
“Well, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘your side,’ but we will fight for the King of Camort.”
At Gerald’s final response, the soldier seemed relieved and satisfied.
“So we will be fighting together.”
“Seems like it.”
The soldier, who seemed to have gathered courage, finally said what he truly wanted to.
“The truth is, the four of us were candidates for the Royal Knights. But right before we could join the Knights, Captain Francis left on a secret mission and never came back, so we remained as guards.”
“So, here you have to be a guard before you become a knight.”
“There are exceptions, but generally, yes.”
“Hmm, and then?”
“If we end up fighting together, could you teach us swordsmanship? There are many soldiers who have the dream of becoming knights and have been practicing their sword skills in the hope of that. But the problem is that we don’t have anyone capable enough to teach us…”
“That’s something I would have to discuss with the captain.”
“Yes, we will be looking forward to a positive response.”
The soldiers, faces full of expectation, turned and left.
“Morale of the soldiers isn’t too low. Is it because of us?”
Gerald murmured, resting his axe on his shoulder.
‘Didn’t you go through something similar during your time as a mercenary? Just your participation in that war would have been a great encouragement to the allies.’
Dunmel communicated through sign language.
“Some fool shouted outright, ‘The Fire Mercenary is with us’. I was so embarrassed that I stayed in the back and didn’t even fight, yet we achieved an overwhelming victory. And despite that, they said that I was the hero of the victory, that they were moved by my brave fight. I couldn’t tell them to their happy faces that I didn’t even fight!”
Gerald laughed as he recalled the incident.
A soldier turned a corner in the hallway, straining under the weight of a loaded spear, only to collide with the corner and spill it all over. The uniform was a poor fit on his small frame, giving him the appearance of a boy playing soldier. Gerald felt a pang of pity at the sight of the young man struggling alone, and moved to help.
“Isn’t it too much for you to carry all this by yourself?”
As Gerald approached, the helmeted soldier replied with a smile,
“As the youngest, it’s my duty to do all this.”
With those words, the soldier smoothly plunged a sword into Gerald’s belly.
It was an attack Gerald had not anticipated. There was no murderous intent, no change in facial expression, no preparatory movement. Gerald managed to catch the blade with his bare hand in a dangerously close call, so close that even if Azwin had teased him about his luck, he wouldn’t have had a comeback. Upon looking down, he noticed the tip of the blade touching his belly, blood vividly streaming between his fingers.
Gerald swung his axe at the soldier. But, with nimble agility, the soldier backflipped twice, avoiding the blow and landing flat. In his hands now were two spears, which he had previously struggled to carry even one. Swinging them around with ease, it was clear that he was no child.
“This is becoming quite a hassle.”
The soldier mumbled in a voice barely audible, eyeing Gerald and Dunmel with a glare.
“Back again, huh! Well, I didn’t think you guys would give up so easily.”
Gerald clenched his blood-soaked fist and shouted, anger surging to his fingertips. Normally, Dunmel would handle such incidents based on their unspoken agreement, but Gerald was not thinking about that now.
The young assassin raised his twin spears and swung them at a high speed, forcing Gerald into a corner of the narrow hallway. In a flash, he drove the spears towards Gerald’s neck and chest. Instead of dodging, Gerald struck both spears with his axe. Not only did he snap both spears, but he also deeply slashed the assassin’s forearm. The assassin staggered backward.
“Why don’t we try three this time?”
Gerald kicked the spears on the floor towards his opponent. The assassin looked down at the spears rolling towards his feet but made no move to pick them up. Backing away slowly, he spoke in a difficult to understand voice,
“So, when the surprise attack fails, just charge in, huh?”
Gerald warned,
“Don’t even think about running, just surrender peacefully.”
“Ha, if we meet again and I survive, I will. But next time, there will be no such luck. I’ll be sure to kill you first.”
The assassin pointed at Gerald as he said this and then ran towards the end of the hallway. He was preparing to leap out of the window, which was on the third floor and covered by a curtain.
“Where do you think you’re going, you brat!”
Gerald threw his axe, which had been pulled back over his shoulder. The axe whistled through the air, making a wind sound that stung the ears as it shot straight forward. Just as the assassin was about to leap out the window, the axe lodged in his back, sending him crashing headfirst into the window frame.
The glass window shattered outwards, and the assassin, bouncing off the window frame, fell back into the hallway. The remaining shards of glass rained down into the corridor. The assassin, hit by the axe, lay sprawled out in the hallway, unable to move.
“Oh, umm.”
Gerald looked at Dunmel, his voice betraying slight confusion. Dunmel seemed about to sign something.
‘I was going to…’
“Forget it.”
Ignoring Dunmel’s sign, Gerald moved towards the fallen assassin. Dunmel dropped his hands, abandoning the unfinished sign.
Around the fallen assassin, a pool of dark red blood spread out. Gerald scratched his head and turned to Dunmel.
“Just for the record, I didn’t mean to kill him.”
Dunmel responded with a stoic expression.
Gerald reached down to check the assassin’s pulse. He couldn’t feel any heartbeat. Grumbling, Gerald pulled out the axe lodged in the assassin’s back, causing a fresh spurt of blood. The axe, having been embedded in the assassin’s spine, came out with a gush of blood.
Gerald sat hunched beside the corpse, laying his ax on the ground. He handled the face of the deceased assassin, turning it from side to side. He checked the neck, hands, shoulders. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was only after a while that Gerald bandaged his injured hand with a piece of cloth.
“Huh?”
As he was wrapping his hand, Gerald saw something in the wide-open eyes of the corpse. He brought his face closer, wondering if he’d seen it wrong. There was an image reflected in the dead man’s eyes for a moment. He hadn’t misseen.
“There’s a footprint drawn in the eye?”
On the man’s eyeball was a distinct picture, like a tattoo etched onto the skin. It was in the shape of a black footprint. Gerald, feeling that this was unusual, extended his hand to Dunmel.
“Hand me the knife. Let’s remove the eyeball. It might serve as a clue.”
Dunmel, not yet understanding what Gerald was on about, crouched beside him and handed over the knife. He then also saw what Gerald had seen.
Dunmel sprang to his feet in surprise.
“Hey, I said I needed the knife.”
Gerald urged him. But Dunmel instead took a step back.
“What’s the matter, you? Do you know what this is?”
Dunmel shook his head.
“You seem to know. Why? Speak up. Is this related to an organization you’re familiar with?”
Without responding, Dunmel turned and began to walk away.
Gerald ran after him, grabbing his shoulder.
“Why are you acting like this?”
Suddenly, Dunmel held the knife to Gerald’s throat, pushing him against the wall. All this happened in a very brief moment. Yet even in this, Gerald had his ax blade against Dunmel’s stomach. If either had wished to kill the other, they could have, their reactions had been that quick and accurate. Slowly, Gerald removed the ax from Dunmel’s belly, raising his hands in surrender.
“Dunmel.”
Gerald smiled broadly.
“The past is the past. Have you forgotten our promise in the Wolf Knights?”
With shaking hands, Dunmel removed the knife from Gerald’s throat.
“That black footprint…!”
Just as Gerald was about to say more, there was a hissing sound. It was coming from the corpse. Specifically, from the dead man’s eyes. White smoke began to rise, flames sparked, soon spreading throughout the body. It burst into flame as though a spark had landed on oil.
They both retreated a step. It didn’t take long for the corpse to become a pile of ash.
“There was a wizard around here, wasn’t there? Shouldn’t we expect strange things like this, then?”
Gerald asked Dunmel. Dunmel wasn’t particularly surprised by the flaming corpse. Rather, he was more shocked that he had lost control of his emotions earlier. In the years that Gerald had known him, it was the first time Dunmel had so openly displayed his feelings.
Gerald gripped Dunmel’s shoulder firmly. Dunmel turned his head to look at Gerald’s lips.
“I’ll forget your behavior just now. But you need to sort out your thoughts. We’ll discuss this when we’re all together.”
Squeezing the shoulder of the still cold-sweating Dunmel, Gerald demanded an answer.
“You understand?”
After hesitating for a moment, Dunmel finally nodded.
–TL Notes–
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