I Became the Wife of the Hero Who Killed Me - Chapter 162

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#Episode 162
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“Three seasons have passed and those miners haven’t even cleared a path? What exactly have they been doing?”
Count Baron’s lips curled as he climbed the mountain.
Back at the Castle Administration, he had flaunted the demeanor of a super-elite Agent 3, but the moment Ramon’s crazed gaze vanished, he’d reverted—as if nothing had happened—to his ordinary self: a common sycophant.
After touring the Northern Villages and meeting with the citizens, we had crossed the last village yesterday and entered the rough mountain path.
It was to visit the gold mine, our final inspection site.
“If you’d heard that my lady was coming, you should have cleared the path long ago—widened it, polished it smooth so a carriage could pass. Isn’t such neglect a failure of loyalty to my lady?”
“I told you, no unnecessary ceremony.”
“Of course, my lady! Should anyone be so foolish as to disturb your peace with such empty formalities, they must be punished with severity. Yes!”
The Baron’s shift in stance moved faster than light.
There was, in fact, good reason for his complaints.
When the carriage could go no further, we’d switched to horses, but as the path grew steeper and steeper, eventually even that became too dangerous, and we’d been forced to proceed on foot.
There was no harder way to suffer.
Berry, who’d been striding briskly alongside our wheezing group, interjected.
“My lady, if it’s difficult, shall I carry you?”
“Ah… no, that won’t do.”
Berry’s offer was tempting, but I declined for the sake of the Duchess’s dignity.
Having climbed the steep mountain range with grim determination, we arrived late in the afternoon at the manor where the miners lodged.
Given the large number of residents, it was sizeable, but its appearance was shabby as a shantytown—likely because most materials had to be sourced locally.
When Count Baron saw the lodging where we would stay, his pupils trembled sharply.
“S-surely you don’t mean we’re to sleep… here…?”
“We are.”
A low groan escaped him.
The Baron’s head sagged without strength.
Just then, Bolik and his colleagues from the Miners’ Union, spotting us from afar, came hurrying over.
“We offer our respects to my lady!”
“We have been waiting eagerly, having heard of your inspection.”
I followed the miners, brimming with enthusiasm, as they gave me a tour of the manor grounds.
Cabin-like lodgings were arranged in orderly rows, and at the far end stood a large warehouse for storing the extracted gold ore.
Positioned against a cliff face, the layout thoroughly prevented any intrusion from outsiders.
Further up the ridge, an active mine was visible.
Surveying the whole vista, I expressed genuine admiration.
“You’ve done an excellent job in such a short time.”
“It is all the fruit of everyone’s desperate effort to repay my lady’s grace. Truth be told, even we didn’t expect to be extracting gold before the year was out.”
The speed at which they’d developed the gold mine exceeded expectations.
Foundation work alone typically took a full year, and even the Castle Administration found this pace unprecedented.
“Would you like to see the extracted ore?”
“No need. Didn’t you say the rough ore looks much the same as ordinary stone?”
My heart responded only to polished, gleaming refined gold.
And truthfully, having climbed this mountain path with such effort, I was growing tired and wanted to lie down in bed.
Just as I was turning away without much interest, a miner carefully held something out to me.
“Then what of this? We’ve extracted a small amount of gold as a test.”
“Gold?!”
I turned my head at the speed of light.
Two small nuggets of gold were placed in my palm.
So lovely it made my heart ache at the mere thought—gleaming and brilliant, soft enough to bear bite marks from teeth—it was exactly what I had dreamed of.
In that moment, a wave of tremendous emotion washed over me.
Having left my painful past behind, I was now a proper mine owner.
The land I’d practically seized from Count Alnor for a pittance had become a mine pouring forth high-purity gold ore.
The profit margin was so moving that tears blurred my vision.
“You’ve all worked hard. As a token of appreciation, I’ve brought alcohol and meat—enjoy yourselves tonight, feast to your heart’s content.”
“Oh, thank you so much!”
At my gesture, Count Baron distributed the bonus.
Celebration dinners were well and good, but surely nothing beat what thumb and forefinger could form in a circle.
Though the miners protested they hardly deserved more, having already been treated well, they were inwardly beaming and let out cheers of joy.
* * *
Deep darkness had fallen over the Northern Wall.
Though the Duke had recently made an inspection, vigilance could never be relaxed.
Sentries stood at regular intervals along the wall, and a military doctor carrying a medical bag passed through the military camp with easy familiarity.
The knights who spotted him waved cheerfully in greeting.
“You must be having quite the time of it!”
“There are injured here, then?”
He was Bouman, a physician trained at the Academy who had fled persecution in a Protestant nation.
Ordinarily, someone who had only recently arrived as an exile would never have been dispatched to the Northern Wall.
But Gilbert, the Duchess’s personal physician and a man of considerable influence, had vouched for Bouman’s competence.
The two had been classmates at the Academy, and Bouman’s past record was spotless.
Once the probationary period ended, he was assigned as military doctor and dispatched to the Northern Wall.
Bouman, who had always relished new experience, readily accepted a post that others dreaded.
“It’s nothing serious—merely a mild ankle sprain.”
“Calling for the personal physician over a simple sprain? What kind of coward is this, whining like that?”
The knights on watch erupted in raucous laughter.
Bouman explained how sprains, if left untreated, could plague a person for life, and smoothly excused himself from the group.
‘That was close.’
In truth, his medical bag contained not medicines but explosives.
Among the countless exiles and travelers who had drifted into Lombard, he was but one—the most insignificant piece on the board, so weak and common that he hardly seemed worth noticing.
He was Nigel’s pawn.
Bouman, from Pavia, was in fact a Protestant.
Since the Academy lay in the Orthodox Church’s territory, he had lived in careful disguise as a believer of the Old Faith, yet his true conviction had never wavered.
He had rejoiced at rumors that Vittorio IV had resolved to convert, and when Rosalind came as queen, he had believed without doubt that the age of Protestantism would finally dawn.
True salvation, the only justice, genuine faith.
But Lombard had ruined everything. When the Duke and Duchess intervened, Baldin’s religious conversion crumbled to nothing.
Bouman, who had believed his world was finally opening, burned with rage.
And to that rage, Rosalind—bearing Nigel’s secret command—had reached out her hand.
She had promised him the opportunity to become a great martyr.
By toppling the Northern Wall and reducing Lombard, where the Old Faith’s power ran deepest, to ruins―
So long as he could become a martyr and enjoy eternal life in heaven, the affairs of this world meant nothing to him.
Surely Leto would look kindly upon such noble sacrifice.
‘They told me to dig as deep as possible beneath the Northern Wall.’
There was no time to bury all the explosives from the bag.
Bouman retrieved the small shovel he had hidden beforehand, but it broke almost immediately.
He clicked his tongue and began tearing at the stone-laden earth with his bare hands.
His fingernails tore and flesh split, but consumed by madness, he felt no pain.
Following the blueprints he had memorized, he installed each bomb methodically.
“Done.”
At last came the final charge.
With the fuse connected, he struck the flint without hesitation and lit the spark.
Szzzt―
With a chilling crackle, the fuse began to burn.
Then knights, growing concerned at Bouman’s absence, came searching and stumbled upon the scene. Horror flooded through them as they rushed forward.
“Stop it! Cut the fuse!”
“Hahahaha! It’s too late. The great God stands with me!!”
Bouman threw both arms wide, his eyes blazing with madness as he laughed.
And in that instant―
“…Damn it.”
That dazed murmur became the knights’ final word.
Countless explosives detonated at once, and everything in the vicinity vanished without trace.
The earth trembled, and the towering Northern Wall, which had seemed to pierce the heavens, began to collapse.
Through billows of choking dust, the cries of Demons who sensed the breach pierced the air.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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