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chapter 34
“What’s going on? Why does everyone look like that?”
“I don’t know.”
The next day, the soldiers who went outside were covered in hives. Red rashes spread across their faces as if a plague had broken out. The situation was especially severe for the guards who had been whipping people the day before—they couldn’t even walk properly.
The real problem was that Montenero, who would have been blamed as the root cause if things went badly, was showing the same symptoms. His pale face was scratched raw, and he looked miserable.
“Did we catch some kind of contagious disease? But then why are Lord Griffin, Lord Butler, and Lord Wood fine? This is unbearably itchy.”
“Could there have been fleas in the barracks? Why is everyone in such bad shape?”
Marco looked around, baffled. Gunter was consulting with a doctor, trying to figure out the situation.
The only people without rashes were Dantes, the three musketeers, and Rosellina. Montenero might have seemed like the prime suspect, but he was too busy scratching himself desperately. Gunter scratched his head as he approached.
“What went wrong?”
“I don’t know. The only thing the patients had in common was that they all ate the stew cooked in one pot yesterday. We told them to share it, including our portions. Roberto had potatoes with his meal, so he didn’t eat the stew.”
“Damn it… what could’ve been in that stew?”
“Apparently, it was a local specialty, and it might have been toxic? I honestly don’t understand it. Cesario said he’d look into it.”
Gunter scratched his head. Continuing the march in this condition would be impossible. Dantes looked over the line of soldiers and spoke.
“Request medical personnel and wagons to transport the sick to the capital, and we’ll depart after noon.”
“Dantes, departing now is impossible. Everyone is too preoccupied scratching themselves.”
“If there was poison in the food, we can’t stay here. Even if we start from Senreita, it takes days to reach here. We need to leave and coordinate with them to avoid wasting time. Everyone must receive treatment and take painkillers by lunchtime. The march will be slow, but we’ll see it through to the end.”
Dantes spoke coldly. Then he glanced at Rosellina, who was standing there listlessly.
“The prisoner shows no symptoms, so lock her in the same warehouse as before. Doctors are forbidden from seeing her, and no medical procedures are allowed. All visits are prohibited. That includes Gunter, Cesario, and Marco.”
His words were utterly devoid of compassion. Rosellina didn’t look at Dantes, and the three musketeers didn’t respond. Dantes didn’t seem to expect a reply; he simply turned and went back to the quarters.
Montenero, his face raw from scratching almost to the point of bleeding, approached Marco.
“Isn’t lunchtime too much? Can you persuade His Majesty? Even the soles of my feet are itchy.”
“Why are you whining when you’re taking a carriage?”
“I’d still be itchy sitting down. My butt itches too.”
Montenero looked as though he was experiencing pain for the first time in his life. Marco, still suspicious, said:
“Are you sure it wasn’t you?”
“Am I an idiot? Who would include themselves in a scheme to screw someone else over?”
“It’s strange that only that guard is in severe condition. Someone must have pulled a prank…”
“That guy probably ate two bowls of stew!”
“Does that make sense?”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
Montenero asked, as if surprised that his theory was doubted. Marco looked into his naïve, innocent eyes and shook his head.
“Alright, everyone, return to the barracks and wait your turn for treatment. If you have a clue about the cause, report it to your immediate superior. His Majesty wants to depart around lunchtime, so finish treatment before then!”
“Yes!”
Marco shouted to the group and then trudged along. Cesario was speaking with the doctor in Gunter’s stead. Gunter scratched his head.
“I’ll check the kitchen. It’s better to see the ingredients myself.”
Marco nodded toward the direction Dantes had gone.
“Alright. I’ll try to persuade that stubborn man. Dantes’ judgment makes sense, but he’s rushing things with the noon departure.”
“Don’t get into a fight with him.”
“Don’t worry. I’m tired of arguing with him. It’s like talking to a wall. It’ll only waste time.”
Marco gave a vague answer and headed to Dantes’ room. Gunter watched him go, concerned.
“Dantes, I’m coming in.”
“Mm.”
Dantes replied shortly. Marco closed the door and looked at him. Dantes didn’t lift his eyes from the papers he was reviewing as he spoke.
“Here to complain again? No matter what you say, I won’t assign a doctor to the prisoner.”
“What do you mean? You wanted to hear that?”
“What?”
Dantes raised his head in surprise. Marco, showing no interest in Rosellina, continued.
“I’m here to suggest delaying the march, at least by an hour or two. Noon is too early. We need to see if treatment and medicine are effective before moving. Some people have severe symptoms.”
“They’re too weak. Their bodies are pathetic, and their minds even worse. They don’t follow orders properly, only watch their superiors. They’re always calculating how to get promoted quickly, not thinking like knights.”
Dantes vented his frustration. Marco could clearly feel that Dantes was angry at the entire expedition. Yet these were neither Dantes’ direct troops nor elite soldiers. Even reborn, they wouldn’t meet Dantes’ strict standards.
“We all agree with your points. Cesario has even started planning how to fix things. But the expedition members are weak for soldiers whose discipline is supposedly collapsed.”
“Whether it’s an expedition or elite troops doesn’t matter. I won’t accept this level in the Delion Knights or my army. I’m beginning to think defeating Terzes was just luck. Anyway, with Gunter, you, and Cesario deployed, we shouldn’t have lost.”
“Yes. There may have been issues in selecting the expedition members. That could have been Port’s plan too.”
Marco focused strictly on the public matters. Dantes expected him to mention Roberto, but Marco showed no interest, which was slightly surprising.
“Even so, we can’t kill everyone and take them. Moving bodies is harder than moving the living. You know it’s impossible, right?”
“Ha… how long do you want to delay it? I don’t even know the benchmark anymore.”
Dantes sighed.
“Just a day should be enough. Gunter checked the food. If uncertain ingredients are a problem, we can rely on the meat we ate yesterday or the potatoes Rosellina ate.”
“Rosellina?”
Dantes frowned at the unfamiliar name. It was obviously a girl’s name. Marco slapped his lips as if realizing a mistake.
“Sorry, Roberto.”
“Where did that name come from?”
“Roberto told me. That’s the real name—Rosellina Brida.”
“Roberto told you personally?”
“I asked him. I wanted to know the real name before he died.”
Marco spoke as if Rosellina’s death was imminent. His calmness irritated Dantes.
“Don’t get too close to the prisoner. I warned you yesterday.”
“Yeah, I don’t want trouble either. Do as you please, Dantes.”
“You sound sarcastic.”
Marco chuckled. He didn’t want to argue, but he could sense Dantes wanted a fight.
‘He wants to talk about Rosellina so badly, pretending he doesn’t.’
Marco decided to let it slide, raising his voice slightly as if angry.
“Now you notice? I’m being blunt. I didn’t realize you were so uncompassionate, Dantes. Rosellina was just a young girl with a family to support.”
“She deceived us!”
Dantes shouted. Marco calmly replied.
“So what if she deceived you? Your obsession isn’t friendship. If anything, it’s better this way. She’s a girl—what’s the problem? Why make it complicated?”
“No, I didn’t want a liar as a friend. Everything from the start was a lie. Everything about her!”
Marco scratched his eyebrows and smirked. Dantes didn’t understand why.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because you and Cesario talk the same way. It’s funny. I even discussed this with Cesario last night.”
“……”
Being compared to Cesario didn’t sound good. Cesario was a good strategist but had stubbornness. But maybe it was true. Dantes was born in the palace, raised as crown prince, and became emperor smoothly. He might not understand the hardships Rosellina faced.
No matter how much he tried to connect with people from different backgrounds, he was still a prince raised in a gilded cage.
Dantes clenched his teeth. Marco brushed his hair back and smiled gently.
“Not everyone is born as privileged as us, Dantes.”
“……”
Those words felt like a hammer on Dantes’ wounded pride. He frowned.
“Not being privileged doesn’t make someone a liar.”
“True. Not everyone does.”
“Marco.”
“But this time, I’ll side with Rosellina. Maybe because I used to lie a lot as a child…”
“……”
“I sympathize more with a desperate liar than a conscientious emperor. I’m not going against you or giving her medicine. It’s just how I feel.”
“What if my petty support annoys you?”
“Can’t help it. You hate liars so much, I won’t become one too. Just bear with it.”
Marco said that and left the room. Dantes rubbed his forehead.
Throughout the conversation, he kept thinking about Rosellina yesterday. Only now did he fully realize what he had done.
But he focused on the sense of betrayal rising within him. Marco knew nothing. Not the feelings he had on that rainy day, when he confessed everything, leaving himself so vulnerable. If he didn’t focus on that, he couldn’t even rationalize his own behavior—how irrationally he treated her. As a former friend, as an emperor, it didn’t make sense.
Dantes suppressed the complex feelings he didn’t explain to Marco.
Understanding and forgiveness still felt impossibly distant to him.
