The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 65

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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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Chapter 65
“Forgive?”
Owen’s brow furrowed in genuine puzzlement.
Yet Georgk pressed forward, speaking with measured calm on behalf of the Mercenary Company.
“We… mistook Peter for a comrade all the way to the end. The betrayal burned so fiercely that we refused to hear your side of it, and I regret that deeply. You must have suffered terribly then, and for us to abandon you on top of it all…”
Georgk paused, swallowing hard.
Since the Mercenary Company dissolved, they had watched Owen’s path from the outside—and it was far from smooth.
The more the common people revered Owen Namoi, the more relentlessly the press and nobility tore at him.
They had sided with the media in their resentment of him then, and now guilt gnawed at them.
“We’re sorry.”
“We understand now that it was a decision made to protect us. Late as it is, we wanted to meet you and apologize.”
“I don’t expect forgiveness. If you’re doubting that decision now, I just want to tell you—don’t. You made the right call that day.”
Then Owen, who had been silent, spoke.
“What are you saying?”
“The Countess explained everything to us. She showed us the evidence too.”
“Pesha did…?”
“We can’t follow behind you the way we once did, but if there’s any place you need us, use us, please!”
“We may be rough and lack honor, but we’re strong. We can be useful anywhere, can’t we?”
The others bowed their heads in turn.
Some wiped tears from their eyes.
“Captain, I’m sorry… I thought I’d changed from the old days. I acted like I was somebody. But this showed me the truth—I’m still just a street thug. I only managed to live like a proper person because of you…”
“Someone like me deserves to die.”
As confession poured out one after another, Owen quietly reached out and seized the shoulder of the nearest man, pulling him back to his feet.
“Stand up.”
His heavy voice carried an irresistible command.
As they awkwardly rose, Owen smiled faintly.
His gaze held not anger or contempt, but deep understanding.
“Thank you for trusting me. But I acted hastily—that’s true too. I’ve wondered countless times if there wasn’t a better way. I carry regret toward Peter as well.”
Then the mercenaries cried out.
“No, sir! That bastard brought death upon himself! All his pitiful talk, yet he gambled and drank himself stupid… never sent a coin to his own sister!”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
Hearing this for the first time, Owen asked, and Lucas pointed to Pesha standing behind him.
“That woman… the Countess said so.”
Owen turned to face her, following Lucas’s gaze.
Their eyes met, and Pesha smiled knowingly.
Owen was bewildered, but he addressed the mercenaries he had just raised to their feet.
“Forgiveness? I’ve never harbored resentment in the first place. It was a situation ripe for misunderstanding, and I’ll admit the proof I laid out was incomplete.”
“C-Captain…”
“In this crisis, thanks to all of you, we turned the tide. I should be the one thanking you. Truly.”
The mercenaries’ eyes reddened at the rims.
They looked as though barely holding back their tears.
“Captain, why are you being so cold about it!”
“Thanking us like strangers… does this mean our bond ends here?”
“You took us in when you formed the Mercenary Company… couldn’t you take us in just one more time?”
“…”
Owen appeared taken aback.
“This isn’t fertile ground. And the war is over…”
“War or no war, we’re mercenaries! Have you ever seen mercenaries lay down their weapons when the fighting’s done? We just want to be under you!”
Owen fell silent, lost in thought.
Then Pesha, observing the situation, stepped forward.
“The pay won’t come close to what you earned as contract soldiers. But if you don’t mind, you’re welcome to enlist.”
“My lady…”
“They want it—why push back? A Territory always needs more troops.”
“But…”
“I know. You want them to live safely and comfortably now that the war’s over. Yet if you turn them away, they’ll just end up drowning themselves in tavern wine. Better to let them live the way they choose, don’t you think?”
“…”
“We have the positions, they want to stay in Swap. What’s the problem? Bedford may have his reasons, but the rest are drifters by trade. If it doesn’t suit them, they’ll move on. That’s how it works, isn’t it?”
“That’s right!”
“The Countess makes a good point!”
Hearing that, Owen let out a low, helpless laugh.
“Yes, then. Welcome to Swap. I look forward to working with you all.”
The moment permission was granted, the mercenaries erupted in a collective cheer.
Encho, who’d been celebrating with them, asked a beat too late.
“What about me?”
Georgk’s eyes went wide as he turned the question back.
“What? Who are you?”
Lucas chimed in as well.
“Haven’t you gone to pick grapes yet?”
“You rotten bastards!”
It was the moment when people divided by misunderstanding and distrust were bound together once more.
* * *
Once the battle ended, the fief rang with the sound of hammers.
The collapsed walls and houses were rebuilt with remarkable speed.
The fact that the existing Webus fields had escaped severe damage thanks to the surrounding shrubs was a stroke of fortune.
“Consider it a close call averted.”
“Right, don’t lose heart. The destroyed homes and buildings—we can make up for them by mining more Beril and selling it. Since Beril’s flying off the shelves in the Capital, won’t orders be coming from the lady soon?”
“Stop lounging about. The moment orders come down, be ready to head out and mine Beril.”
With Beril as a source of hope, the fief’s people regained their vigor as if nothing had happened.
Remembering the remarkable growth Swap had already experienced before, they had no reason to fear a monster invasion like this.
“My lady, shouldn’t we be heading back soon?”
Mini, her maidservant, rolled her eyes anxiously before asking carefully.
Pesha, who had been listening in on the conversations of passersby while wrapped in a thick, drab woolen cloak, answered.
“What’s the point? We’d just walk into another brawl.”
“Even so, there’s no need for you to come out to a construction site like this. You could get hurt.”
Mini’s eyes darted about as she spoke.
With so many rough and coarse workers on the site, everyone was a potential threat in her mind.
Pesha, who had been turning something over in her thoughts, spoke to the tense Mini.
“Did you hear what they’re saying? The fief folk believe Beril is how Swap will rise again.”
“Well, it’s probably all they have to believe in.”
“If I banned mining without offering an alternative, just like Fulton suggested, there’d be an uprising…….”
Steam rose faintly from Pesha’s lips as she murmured softly.
Winter had come on, bitter and sharp.
It was a season when people locked their doors and reduced travel to prepare for the cold, but Swap’s circumstances were somewhat different.
Namoi Castle had begun distributing relief supplies to help the affected fief folk recover, and the people themselves moved about busily, eager to resume Beril processing at the earliest opportunity.
If things continued this way, the Beril workshops would be fully operational before winter’s end.
“I’m truly grateful. But…….”
Even as Pesha’s eyes confirmed the smooth recovery, her face remained dark.
The horde of monsters that descended on the fief.
It happened every year, true enough, but this time the scale was larger, it came earlier than usual, and a new subspecies had appeared.
As the fief battled the monsters, Pesha kept thinking of what Rebecca had said.
“If I may speak frankly, I suspect that in recent days, as miners from other regions have flocked to the areas around the entrance to the Eastern Abyss to extract Beril, the monsters have become increasingly agitated by the miners’ movements.”

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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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