🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 35
After hours of searching the dining hall, Gunter returned to the quarters. Covered in kitchen dust, he panted vigorously, as if he had finally tracked down the source of the mess. He tossed a small burlap sack onto Dantes’ table.
“What’s this?”
“Contaminated ginseng. I finally found it in the food storage. Looks like it ended up in the soup.”
“Ginseng? That went into the soup?”
“They eat it like this around here.”
Marco examined the ginseng, its leaves unnaturally green, its surface dotted with black spots as if stamped with ink. It looked grotesque, almost like a poisonous mushroom.
“No… even if it’s a local specialty, shouldn’t something that looks like this be considered rotten and discarded?”
Marco couldn’t understand. It clearly seemed spoiled, even grotesque as an ingredient.
“They said it didn’t look like this when they cooked it. When the problem came up and they checked, nothing seemed unusual. It was only after searching around that this was found. Even the locals say they’ve never seen ginseng like this.”
“Are you certain this went into the soup? How did it get contaminated in the first place?”
“Something must have been injected. Such a strange appearance wouldn’t occur naturally. The only way to be sure is to take it to the capital.”
“This isn’t magic, right?”
Dantes asked, still suspicious. Meanwhile, Monterno, facing the more severe cases, was frantically looking for a magical reagent that might cure it. Marco shook his head and continued.
“That guy falls into the severe category. No matter how much he tried to avoid suspicion, it wasn’t necessary to go that far. He’s been attacked—by someone, I don’t know who.”
“The internal situation is chaotic, beyond measure. Does it even make sense for knights to eat whatever they’re given? Honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising if the entire order were disbanded. Why is discipline so lax? How long has it been since the war ended?”
Dantes spoke angrily. Time passing hadn’t restored their ability to march properly. The contaminated ginseng seemed only to be worsening symptoms.
“Dantes, I understand your disappointment and anger. But now, you must treat them not as Delion knights but simply as citizens of the Empire. They are weak, as you said, and even got sick because of this incident. It’s better to wait for medical support from the capital. If we march now, even those with mild symptoms will collapse from exhaustion.”
Marco spoke bluntly. Cesario nodded in agreement.
“Right. Punishment can wait until we return. The injured aren’t in condition to be moved. The severe cases are worsening. A forced march would only exhaust everyone further.”
Some had already lost consciousness. For them, complete unconsciousness might have been a relief. A guard who had tormented Rosellina regained consciousness only to pass out repeatedly, scratching his body in agony, his eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness, roaring almost like he had lost his mind. He had even shouted outside the dining hall, accusing Rosellina of causing the mess, before Gunter struck him unconscious.
Dantes sighed and thought for a long moment before speaking again.
“Would it be too risky to split the advance and rear guards?”
“Splitting them serves no purpose.”
Cesario answered firmly. Marco prodded the ginseng with a pen while speaking.
“Who told anyone to force a march? Everyone is exhausted, which is why even this rotten ginseng brings them down.”
“How did the knight order even manage to get them into such a state? On the day of a real war, they’d be wiped out without question.”
Marco twisted his eyebrows at Dantes’ scolding tone.
“Dantes, say what you mean straight. No one could survive your abusive marches. If you were so petty as to target Rosellina, shouldn’t you reflect on it?”
“What?”
Cesario stepped forward and restrained Dantes, who was about to lash out at Marco.
“Marco, you’re exaggerating. Dantes’ marching schedule ultimately aimed to prevent incidents like this. To stop internal suspicion and harm within the order.”
Cesario chastised Marco. Marco snorted and continued.
“Whatever happens, happens anyway. If the march hadn’t been so grueling, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. But did he really do it only for discipline? Was there no anger toward Rosellina at all? Let’s be honest—at least I’m sure I wasn’t.”
“One more word, and I’ll beat you senseless.”
“Challenge accepted. Judging by your current condition, I could beat you ten times over and still have strength left.”
“M-Marco, stop it. Why do you only say things that make Dantes angry?”
Gunter stepped in, unable to stand the confrontation. Cesario stood in front of Dantes, and Gunter in front of Marco, holding the standoff.
Dantes tried to suppress his rising anger. Marco’s constant prodding felt like a thousand scratches across his skin. But thinking of scratches made him think of Rosellina first. Not Roberto, but Rosellina.
That thought made him angrier in a different way. He exhaled, brushed his hair back, and spoke calmly.
“Enough. We can’t waste time on foolish arguments.”
Dantes turned to face the window. He didn’t agree with everything Marco said—it would blur his judgment as commander. But he also couldn’t completely deny his words.
Dantes Belkin was the overall commander of all this. He didn’t just manage a small pursuit team; he carried the burden of leading the fertile, god-blessed Empire of Delion. Every moment, he had to prove he could do so.
He recalled his duty, momentarily forgotten because of Rosellina, and spoke with composure.
“Gunter, investigate the situation in detail. Marco, classify those with similar symptoms and get an accurate headcount. Cesario, see if medical support can be reached closer than the capital. Senreita is too far.”
“Good. Let’s do that. Marco, come with me.”
Gunter took Marco to carry out the task. Marco opened his mouth to speak but held back, following quietly. Before they left, Cesario spoke.
“Shouldn’t Roberto Brida be treated as well?”
Marco looked surprised; Cesario was the least likely to be concerned with Rosellina. Dantes, too, frowned, seeming unprepared for the suggestion.
“Why bring this up now?”
“For proper transport, even one patient less is better. Roberto’s symptoms are among the worse cases…”
“Have you forgotten? The imperial law forbids treatment.”
“But medicine can still be administered.”
“……”
Dantes remained silent. Cesario didn’t show sympathy for Rosellina, only a pragmatic concern for efficiency in the escort. Arguing would only reveal his own emotions.
Marco stood quietly, arms crossed, watching what decision Dantes would make. Dantes sighed.
“Staff officers just complicate matters instead of resolving them.”
“Speak clearly. We’ve always been like this. It’s just that your mind is tangled, Dantes.”
Marco said pointedly. Dantes waved his arm, clearly unwilling to argue further.
“Do as Cesario says. That’s your responsibility.”
“Marco will handle it. He’s already conversing with Roberto.”
“Fine.”
Marco responded lightly. Dantes glanced at him.
Roberto had only told Marco his real name was Rosellina. That act alone implied trust. If Marco delivered medicine, Rosellina would rely on him even more. Dantes hadn’t let go of his anger, yet he couldn’t stand seeing someone else taking that role.
“No, Gunter will do it.”
“What? I thought you said leave it to me?”
Marco questioned, clearly annoyed. Dantes calmly explained.
“I don’t want you overturning my plans after seeing Roberto’s condition. Better Gunter or Cesario—silent and reliable. You keep chattering.”
“Fine, I won’t speak.”
“How can I trust that?”
Dantes stopped him again. Marco scratched his neck as if hearing the strangest things.
“It’s just handing over a medicine packet, but you make it sound so important.”
“Marco, stop provoking Dantes. I agree, Gunter should deliver the medicine.”
“Yeah, it’s not a difficult task anyway.”
Gunter responded cheerfully. Dantes was inwardly satisfied but didn’t show it. Marco and Gunter left. Cesario stepped back slightly and observed Dantes.
“Maybe it would have been better if you delivered the medicine yourself.”
Cesario commented, studying Dantes’ face. Dantes feigned indifference.
“What are you talking about? I don’t care.”
“Your expression says otherwise, so I pointed it out.”
“Don’t bother me too, Cesario.”
Cesario shook his head.
“The one who torments you most is yourself, Dantes.”
Dantes couldn’t argue. Cesario truly understood everything. Yet he didn’t fully acknowledge it either.
He felt utterly lost. Rosellina didn’t resent him, no matter how harshly he treated her. She didn’t even try to defend herself or explain. More infuriating than her leaving and deceiving him might have been that she didn’t want to restore the relationship.
Dantes turned away from Cesario, ignoring the clear truth. Cesario didn’t continue speaking.
