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Chapter 28
Caron knew Raymond well.
“Mother ordered him to protect Erin, yet he left without a word?”
Even if it wasn’t an official subjugation unit, abandoning one’s position midway without permission was unlike him.
Unless there was a clear reason, Raymond shouldn’t have had any other mission except protecting Erin.
But the subjugation party members didn’t seem interested in looking for him.
Especially to Caron’s eyes, Ferdin looked like one of those who was glad Raymond had disappeared.
Still, perhaps out of courtesy, Ferdin called over a knight and gave an order.
“Go and confirm if Sir Raymond returned to the marquisate.”
Caron had no intention of opposing the will of the final decision-maker. He too had thought Raymond’s recent behavior was somewhat strange.
Perhaps Raymond, feeling the subjugation unit’s hostility toward him, had quietly left.
Caron simply assumed nothing bad could happen to a high-ranking knight like Raymond.
“I can just ask him why when we meet at the marquisate after the subjugation is over.”
But Caron was fated never to see Raymond again.
Even if he returned after the subjugation, Raymond would no longer be at the marquisate.
The journey to reach the territory of the wolf tribe was a long one.
After ten days, the subjugation unit was utterly exhausted. Crossing rugged mountain ranges nonstop was no easy task.
Even seasoned knights were drained physically.
The knights managed somewhat better, but several academy students were on the verge of collapse.
Still, only a little remained. Soon, they would reach the wolf tribe’s land.
But even knowing that, Amon thought he wanted nothing more than to collapse right there.
Even he, used to difficult missions, was drained from this forced march.
After all, this was a mission the Emperor had deliberately assigned to torment Ferdin.
The Emperor would constantly give him absurdly short deadlines and pressure him to succeed.
It was nothing like the simple tasks handed to Ditreon.
“Maybe that’s why that knight Raymond ran away.”
Neither he nor Ferdin trusted Raymond.
Setting aside the sticky, filthy gaze Raymond cast at Erin… Amon found it impossible to trust the marquisate’s people.
He still couldn’t forget the marks he’d seen on Erin’s back.
What exactly had she suffered in that household? Even a fool could tell it was something abnormal.
Grinding his teeth, Amon thought perhaps Raymond’s sharp instincts as a high-ranking knight had sensed some hidden scheme in this mission.
Maybe that’s why Ferdin didn’t bother searching for him.
A high-ranking knight was certainly valuable. But if he couldn’t be trusted, what use was he?
He might just betray them at a critical moment. Better that he left now.
“Argh!”
At the sudden scream, Amon turned his head toward Erin.
She was drenched in sweat, facing off against muscle-brained idiots as if their heads were filled only with brawn.
This bizarre phenomenon of the past few days was enough to leave Amon speechless.
“Erin, die!”
“No… Philip, don’t you think telling me to die is a bit much?”
“It’s my turn, Philip! Move! You already sparred earlier!”
“You back off instead!”
The trainee knights shouted strange battle cries as they lunged at Erin with their swords.
Their fierce strikes looked so real that Amon got chills—they might actually cut her down.
They were dead serious. Each one giving his all to land a blow on her.
And Erin received all their strikes, even countering from time to time.
Even after sparring with her before, Amon had trained hard… but he had no confidence to jump into that chaos.
Just walking was exhausting—who in the world had the idea to spar at every chance they got?
Other students stood pale-faced, watching the duel in disbelief.
In a situation where even breathing was hard, these trainee knights swinging swords nonstop could not be normal.
“Rumors really can’t be trusted.”
Amon recalled one of the malicious rumors about Erin.
“Erin Recess is lazy and doesn’t train with her sword.”
Really? She spent the whole day swinging it.
“She hates hard work…”
And who was that sparring with those muscle idiots right now?
Erin’s breathing quickened. Amon found himself staring, spellbound.
When she thrust her sword swiftly, Philip flinched back in fright. But the spar wasn’t over yet.
Two other trainee knights flanked her, their swords slashing at her arms and legs.
But she instantly stepped back, blocked the sword aimed at her leg, and twisted her body with near acrobatic grace to avoid the strike to her arm.
The observing knights all held their breath, faint astonishment flickering in their eyes.
The ten days toward the wolf tribe’s land had been more than enough to change their view of Erin Recess.
“Beautiful.”
Amon once again felt what he had experienced when sparring with her last time.
His cheeks burned red. Heat rose inside him for reasons he couldn’t explain.
Again, such impure thoughts… He pinched his thigh to punish himself.
Erin was sparring. To cross swords and prove one’s strength was a sacred thing.
To feel such emotions while watching her was wrong—or so Amon told himself.
After a long bout, Philip seemed to realize something and held back the other students charging Erin.
“Hey, let’s stop now.”
Even the genius Erin had a weakness—her stamina was lacking compared to others.
At his words, the other knights sheathed their swords tactfully. Bowing, they shouted:
“An honorable sparring match, Dame Erin!”
“Honorable, my ass. You all ganged up three-on-one.”
Amon thought, then approached Erin and handed her a handkerchief.
Her face stiffened at the gesture.
No matter how many times, she could never get used to his kindness.
She accepted it anyway and wiped her forehead. Amon smiled warmly as he watched.
Derek, standing a little apart, was also watching Erin’s spar.
He whistled at the three-against-one duel and said to Ferdin:
“Wow, that’s amazing. Erin Recess being that skilled is surprising enough… but did you see Amon hand her a handkerchief? What’s gotten into him? He’s been acting strange ever since the last monster subjugation.”
But Ferdin didn’t seem to hear him.
Puzzled, Derek asked,
“Ferdin, what are you staring at so hard?”
Ferdin’s eyes were fixed on something. Following his gaze, Derek realized—he was staring directly at Amon’s handkerchief.
Derek couldn’t hide his confusion.
“Why is he looking at that handkerchief like that…?”
Curiosity itched at him, but he didn’t dare ask.
Because Ferdin’s mood looked very unpleasant.
Corellia was deep asleep.
In her dream, she sat atop the marquisate’s tower. Another day as usual.
Maids busied themselves trying to please her, as did everyone else.
She always played the role of the strict yet compassionate marchioness.
At times, she showed weakness. That way, people would devote themselves even more to the new mistress of the house.
A few tears over failing to stop her daughter’s misbehavior were more than enough.
“Foolish humans.”
Corellia thought as she gazed down from the marquisate at the knights’ training yard.
A girl was swinging a sword. Her strikes carried sharp intensity.
Once, twice, thrice—tens of swings, and Corellia couldn’t look away.
Anyone who held a sword would instantly recognize this girl’s skill was extraordinary.
The girl’s back looked oddly familiar.
“Erin Recess…?”
The girl was indeed Erin.
But Erin’s swordplay, this sharp? Even for a dream, it was laughable.
Corellia’s hands trembled faintly.
Erin’s head slowly lifted as she swung. Her eyes locked directly with Corellia’s.
That was strange.
Corellia was aware this was a dream. She had such dreams from time to time.
Usually they were peaceful, ending when she woke.
But this time was different.
Erin had always struggled to even meet her eyes. Yet here she was, staring at her unwaveringly.
Then Erin spoke to her.
Though the distance was great, Corellia understood her words clearly.
“No matter how much you want… you can never have it.”
Corellia’s face twisted viciously.
