The Forgotten Field - Chapter 166

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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 166
He stared silently at the pen’s motionless tip for a long moment. Ink seeping from the nib had created an unsightly blotch across the letter’s surface.
He crumpled it carelessly and brushed it aside, whereupon the man continued with concern in his voice.
“However, it seems that wolf has been stirring up unfavorable rumors about the Grand Duchess. There also appear to be frequent tensions with the Grand Ducal House’s retainers.”
Barcas frowned as he pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from the drawer.
“Tensions?”
“Ah, it wasn’t conflict of such a serious nature. It’s simply that the wolf is so aggressive by nature… the soldiers seem to be living in fear of it.”
He scratched the back of his head and replied vaguely.
Barcas’s eyes sharpened.
“Has that creature been causing harm to those around it?”
“It has not. I observed it closely during my time in Kalmor, and it merely bared its teeth and intimidated those nearby.”
The man denied it urgently.
“The creature possesses an extraordinary protective instinct and possessiveness toward its master. It fundamentally despises anyone approaching the Grand Duchess. It remained docile as long as people didn’t venture unnecessarily close to her. It follows her faithfully and is quite intelligent, so it doesn’t appear to attack people indiscriminately. The beast is extremely loyal to her.”
The man rattled off his defense, then paused to catch his breath before adding quietly.
“However, given its massive size… even its growl alone causes those around it to feel threatened for their lives.”
Barcas gazed thoughtfully at the stack of letters piled on one corner of his desk.
He had already suspected to some degree that problems were arising from the dire wolf. Reports containing veiled complaints about the creature had begun arriving from the subordinates he had stationed for her protection.
And his response to them had always been the same.
Should the creature show signs of becoming a threat to her or cause direct harm to those around her, use force to subdue it. However, if it causes no actual harm, leave it be.
The fact that the wolf’s head remained attached to its shoulders meant that, at least until now, it had never attacked anyone.
Therefore, he had no intention of taking any action at present.
He could easily tolerate the complaints from the priests and retainers about keeping a creature. If she was happy, what did it matter if she raised a demon spawn instead of a mere beast?
As long as Talia was well…
In that moment, the image of her weeping in the rain flashed through his mind like a burn mark on his consciousness.
He hastily shook away the afterimage dancing across his retinas and issued a dismissal in a somewhat cold tone.
“If you’ve finished your chattering, be on your way. You need to escape the Gorge before nightfall, don’t you?”
“But you were the one who asked, sir…”
The man grumbled in dissatisfaction, then released a resigned sigh and turned toward the entrance. But then, as if remembering something, he stopped and extended something toward Barcas.
“I nearly forgot. This is what I came to deliver.”
He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the parchment scroll held in the knight’s hand.
“What is it?”
“A dispatch from the Crown Prince.”
He took the scroll with an expressionless face.
The dispatch contained a rather direct proposal requesting his participation in the conquest of Bloddar, written in the secretary’s characteristically neat script.
As Barcas scanned it with an indifferent expression, his gaze halted at the final line of the document.
[Remember the oath you swore.]
He stared at it intently, then held the letter above the candle flame. He then gestured with his chin toward Edrick Lubon, who wore a startled expression.
“If your business is concluded, you may go now.”
The man, who seemed about to say something, left the barracks in silence.
Barcas loosened the collar of his uniform, which felt like a tightening noose.
Above the candle flame, letters on the parchment slowly curled and writhed like tiny insects.
After staring at it for a long while, I dipped the dried quill back into the inkwell.
There would be no siege of Amasek. Once the Emperor proposed negotiations, the Eastern Alliance would open its doors wide to welcome the Imperial Army.
Still, to appease the perpetually complaining Gareth, I needed to demonstrate at least some sincerity by moving the troops.
Barcas sealed the letter to his retainers with wax, inscribing at the end that he planned to return before summer’s end this year.
By the time this reached Laedgo Castle, the course of the war would be decided. I was determined to make it so, one way or another.
* * *
Pale light poured down over a world bleached ash-grey. Toward him, standing alone at the entrance of a snow-white Garden, a ghostly pale woman extended a white hand traced with veins.
“Why are you standing there so still? Come here at once.”
He looked up at the dark-haired woman silhouetted against the sunlight. Or perhaps her hair was not dark at all.
He had never seen this woman’s true color. Even in a world mottled with black and white, he could only clearly perceive that she alone possessed distinctly vivid contrast.
The woman smiled warmly and spoke gently, coaxing him forward.
“There’s no need to worry. This place is safe.”
Her tone was like someone soothing a frightened animal.
He slowly stepped into the Garden. Then, between the neatly trimmed shrubs, a marble Pavilion came into view.
Beneath it, on a long bench, two small children sat pressed close together, their large eyes fixed upon him in an unwavering stare.
The woman placed her hands around both children’s shoulders and spoke with pride.
“Say hello. These are my children. They would be your younger cousins, in a manner of speaking.”
He approached the Pavilion and gazed down at the young siblings. Both possessed dark hair and large eyes, yet the impressions they gave were starkly different.
The boy appeared thoroughly angry about something, while the girl with her hair in two braids looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment.
He examined the girl’s trembling face with a puzzled expression. Then the plump-cheeked child suddenly let out a shrill wail.
“Aila.”
The woman hastily scooped up her daughter and patted her small back soothingly.
As he gazed up at the scene, something sticky struck his body with a splat.
He turned his head. The dark-faced boy was flinging chunks of gooey cake from the table indiscriminately.
“I hate you! Get out!”
“Gareth! What on earth are you doing!”
At the woman’s cry, Handmaidens stationed at one side of the Garden came rushing over, surrounding the boy and beginning to soothe him.
Covered in sticky sugar clumps, he waited for the chaos to subside.
Finally, as the girl’s crying subsided, the woman handed the young Princess to a Handmaiden and approached him.
“I’m truly sorry, Barcas.”
She then withdrew a handkerchief and wiped the sugar syrup and cream from his face. Her dark eyes glistened with tears inches from his face.
“I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to scold Gareth severely.”
“…I’m fine.”
The woman seemed so excessively apologetic that I opened my lips, which had been pressed firmly shut.
Her eyes widened in surprise, then curved into a narrow smile.
That reaction was puzzling. Why was she so pleased?
“You’ve finally spoken. I was worried you might never speak again for the rest of your life.”
I frowned. I had simply seen no need to speak and kept silent. I never imagined she thought I had become mute.
“Come, follow me. I’ll give you new clothes.”
His Wife bore a smile so innocent it was hard to believe she was the Empress of the Empire, and she pulled his hand forward.
With each step he took following her, he noticed his shadow growing longer, and the lightness of his footfalls gradually becoming heavier.
Before long, he found himself standing before the wide bedroom door, dressed in a surcoat embroidered with the emblem of the Imperial Knight Order.
After adjusting his attire, he knocked lightly on the door with the back of his hand. Soon, a familiar voice came from within.
“Come in.”
As he grasped the door handle and pulled it open, the cozy interior of the bedroom unfolded before his eyes—decorated with aged wooden furniture and carpets.
As he stepped inside and surveyed the room, his gaze came to rest at the window.
His Wife sat before the Terrace, gazing vacantly into the Garden, and turned to face him with a pallid smile.
“Thank you for coming.”
In that moment, he caught the scent of death.
“I heard you attempted to take your own life.”
His words, spoken accusingly, wiped the smile from her face. He added harshly to that bloodless visage.
“Why did you do such a thing?”
“Why I did it… I don’t know myself.”
His Wife muttered with a vacant expression.
“Everyone says I did it, but honestly, I have no memory of it at all. When I came to my senses, I was already lying in bed.”
Her hollow eyes turned back toward the window.
“Why did I do it? Did I expect him to feel regret watching me die? Or did I hope he would belatedly realize my worth?”
His Wife, murmuring as though speaking of someone else, let out a hollow laugh—huh, huh.
“The Handmaidens surrounded me, weeping bitterly, yet all the while I was searching for his face. How foolish of me, isn’t it?”
He said nothing in response.
Reading condemnation in his silence, her face crumbled and twisted.
“You could never understand me. When I first rescued you from that place, I pitied you so. I wanted to heal you somehow, to restore what you had lost the ability to feel.”
“….”
“But now… I envy you so much.”

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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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