MTEF 15

Chapter 15

“…This is…”

It was only after Ronin finally came to his senses that he staggered backward in shock.

“Your Highness, whatever are you doing here?”

A crisp, ringing voice came from behind him.

Startled, Ronin turned around.

The woman, whose brown hair was braided over one shoulder, wore the unmistakable traces of a life filled with hardship on her face.

As Ronin stared at the strangely familiar face, he remembered that she was one of the servants introduced to him earlier that morning.

‘Her name was…’

“I am Wyndham, the head steward of the inner quarters.”

‘Ah, right.’

There wasn’t the slightest hint of warmth in her cold, clipped tone.

Ronin was already accustomed to such hostility, so he obediently lowered his gaze.

“…Yes, I understand. Madam Wyndham, I was only—”

“It’s Lady.”

The title “Madam” was reserved for married noblewomen.

An unmarried woman should properly be addressed as “Lady.”

Ronin, having received a strict education as a central noble, naturally knew this.

He had simply assumed she was married because she looked to be in her forties.

‘People in the capital usually marry young… I had no idea.’

Suppressing his embarrassment, Ronin apologized.

“Ah, my apologies.”

“It’s quite all right. More importantly, there is no need to speak so formally to someone beneath your station. It would tarnish the reputation of someone as noble as yourself. Please speak more casually.”

Her words sounded perfectly respectful, yet the disgust lingering on her face remained unchanged.

‘So these are the people I’ll have to live with from now on… for the rest of my life.’

And it wasn’t just Wyndham.

The moment he arrived at Leofric Castle, he had realized it.

This place would become his grave.

Ronin answered in an almost inaudible voice.

“…I’ll try to do that.”

Having effortlessly subdued a man far larger than herself—and one of much higher status—Wyndham continued as though nothing unusual had happened.

“In any case, this area is off-limits. As you can see, this part of the castle has fallen into disrepair. It’s easy to get seriously injured here. Even if you don’t, people often lose their way.”

Ronin instinctively looked around.

Sure enough, this corridor was completely different from the ones he had walked through earlier.

Only a handful of candles illuminated the passage, forcing him to watch every step he took.

This time, his gratitude was genuine.

“I see. Thank you for letting me know, Lady Wyndham.”

“Please follow me. I’ll escort you back to your room.”

As Ronin followed behind Wyndham, he glanced back over his shoulder.

It wasn’t intentional.

The movement was almost instinctive.

Then something caught his eye.

A door? In a place like this?

At the end of the dark corridor was a door concealed beneath wallpaper patterned almost identically to the surrounding walls.

It was hidden so skillfully that it hadn’t even been visible from where he had been standing earlier.

It blended almost perfectly into the structure itself, and unlike an ordinary door, it had no handle.

Ronin would have walked right past it…

…if not for the faint light seeping through the crack beyond it.

‘…Is something in there?’

The light carried a strange bluish hue.

It wasn’t candlelight.

Nor was it the glow of an oil lamp.

It was… something else.

“Your Highness?”

Before he could dwell on it any longer, Wyndham called out to him.

Her voice was as sharp as a thorn and as cutting as a whip.

Reluctantly, Ronin tore his eyes away and continued after her, though a seed of doubt remained lodged deep within his heart.

The giant of a man sat in an equally enormous chair.

On the solid wooden table before him rested a bottle of strong liquor beside a single dim light.

Without hesitation, the man emptied a mouthful of the liquor before muttering to himself.

“So… the child of that Alistair walked into the North of his own accord…”

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Even the fingers drumming against the table were far longer and thicker than those of ordinary men.

Covered in scars and hardened calluses, they told the story of the harsh life their owner had lived.

Yet more than anything else, it was the scar slashing across his left eye that revealed his past.

It was both a glorious badge earned while protecting those precious to him…

…and a wound of everlasting regret for failing to save the one person he had wanted to protect most.

Once more, the man murmured.

“There has to be a reason. Those people never make a deal unless it benefits them. They’re the sort who’d sell even their own siblings if the price were right. They must have received something in return.”

This time, however, he wasn’t speaking to himself.

The man slowly raised his head.

The single eye that remained had sunk into a dark, dangerous stillness.

“Sir Talbot… what do you think?”

At the question, Baldwin Talbot, who had been standing at attention, stepped forward.

The man radiated an overwhelming pressure that would make most people hesitate to approach him.

But Baldwin did not retreat.

As vice commander of the Black Wolf Knights and Calion’s trusted subordinate, he had come here representing his lord.

Calmly yet firmly, he reported the results of his investigation.

“We’re looking into it. However, one thing is certain—it has nothing to do with Johanna Alistair. His Majesty the Emperor has gone on a ‘hunt’ with several nobles he is close to.”

“Hah! Those rats, clinging to power just to snatch a few grains of wheat.”

The man—Galahad—made no attempt to hide his hatred for the central nobility.

The central nobles…

Who else had encouraged Emperor Charles’s incompetence if not those parasites?

Deceived by their honeyed words, Emperor Charles had abandoned Leofric.

‘Leofric—the founding hero who devoted himself wholeheartedly to this Empire!’

Crack—

Thinking about those men who deserved to be chewed to pieces caused the crystal glass in Galahad’s hand to fracture.

Only after seeing the cracks spread across it did some of his reason return.

And once it did…

His thoughts turned to his godson.

The young man who had returned after spending so much time among those snake-like schemers and pig-like gluttons.

‘And of all times… it had to be now. I doubt Charles knows anything, but the timing couldn’t be worse.’

The mere thought of his godson made the liquor in his mouth taste unusually bitter.

He no longer felt like drinking.

Setting the glass down, the savage aura surrounding him gradually subsided.

“…How is Calion? Is the boy all right?”

“He’s doing well. I believe this episode will be less painful than the last one. During the worst periods, his suffering usually begins around this time.”

“…Hmm.”

Even after hearing that Calion was doing well, the worry on Galahad’s face did not disappear.

He had only one godson.

How could he not worry?

The boy had lost both parents at a young age and had spent his life believing himself cursed.

He was bound to be the one who weighed most heavily on Galahad’s heart.

Covering his face with one enormous hand, Galahad said quietly,

“Sir Talbot… take good care of Calion.”

His voice carried unmistakable regret and concern.

Understanding those feelings, Baldwin answered with even greater determination.

“You have nothing to worry about! I’ll protect the Commander with my life if I must!”

At those words, Galahad lowered his hand.

A young knight whose youthful features had yet to fully fade looked back at him.

But the green eyes shining beneath them were unwavering and resolute.

To Galahad, Baldwin was still just a young knight.

After all, Baldwin had once served as the squire to Galahad’s own godson.

Entrusting Calion to someone so young left him both uneasy and strangely reassured.

Watching those steadfast eyes gave him hope.

Better for Calion to have someone dependable by his side than to be burdened by an old cripple like himself.

As bitter as that truth was, it remained the truth.

If so, then Galahad’s duty was obvious.

To support the next generation…

…so that they could spread their wings.

‘If you want a rat to walk into a trap, you have to let it roam free. Scatter a little bait while you’re at it.’

Galahad began considering how best to make use of the “Alistair” who had wandered into the North.

Several plans had already begun taking shape in his mind.

By the time he finished imagining them, the Alistair family had been torn apart and left in tatters.

But if it meant protecting his godson and the loyal knight who stood beside him…

There was nothing he wouldn’t do.

‘Calion… don’t worry. If anyone’s hands are stained with blood, mine will be the first—and yours will be the very last.’

Shadows flickered across Galahad’s face beneath the dim light.

An icy resolve settled deep within his lone eye.