The Forgotten Field - Chapter 194

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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 194
He pressed his leaden arms against the edge of the bed, attempting to lift his torso when a piercing scream shattered the silence.
“Y-Your Grace! You’ve regained consciousness!”
Turning toward the sound, he glimpsed the Steward rushing into the chamber with a large pitcher in hand. The man hastily set it down on a shelf before sprinting to the bedside.
“Thank the heavens! I was beside myself with worry—what if you never awakened? What would have become of us!”
The Steward murmured in an agitated voice, propping pillows behind his back.
Barcas leaned his head against the headboard and pressed his palms firmly against his throbbing eyelids, as though shards of broken glass were embedded there. Witnessing this, the Steward urgently rang the bell on the nightstand to summon the other Servants.
“His Grace has awakened! Fetch the physician at once!”
Moments later, hurried footsteps echoed through the chamber as several Servants and a physician in priestly robes rushed in. While they bustled about the bed, Barcas kept his eyes closed, waiting for the overwhelming weakness that pressed upon his entire body to subside.
How long he remained thus, the High Priest infusing sacred power into his body exhaled a weary breath and spoke.
“Fortunately, it appears you have passed the critical juncture entirely. The mana flow that was fluctuating so wildly has returned completely to its natural state.”
Barcas opened his eyes and regarded the High Priest. The clergyman wiped perspiration from his brow and continued in a grave tone.
“I can only attribute it to divine providence. Throughout history, there are scarcely a handful of cases where someone has survived ingesting the deadly venom of Agor.”
Deadly venom.
Barcas turned the word over in his mind, quietly observing his own hand where veins stood prominently. His clouded thoughts were flooded with countless questions. Pushing them aside into the recesses of his consciousness, he uttered a hoarse question.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“Your Grace has been without consciousness for a week—no, precisely eight days as of today.”
Before the High Priest could answer, a heavy voice resonated from the doorway. Barcas turned his head. Beirov, his haggard face drawn, strode across the chamber.
As he approached the bedside, he added in a grave voice.
“For the first four days, your condition was so critical that it would have been no surprise had your heart ceased at any moment. Your awakening is truly a blessing beyond measure.”
“What became of the suppression operation?”
Barcas dismissed the Young Aide’s concern with indifference, posing a terse question. The Young Aide, regarding him with a stern expression, glanced hesitantly at those surrounding the bed before making a careful request.
“If I may, would you grant us privacy?”
“Your Grace has only just regained consciousness after teetering on death’s edge. Surely it would be prudent to wait until your strength is fully restored….”
“That’s enough. Leave.”
Barcas gestured dismissively at the High Priest’s worried remonstrance. The High Priest regarded him with sorrowful eyes.
“Should you overexert yourself and your condition deteriorate again….”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Intimidated by his sharp demeanor, the High Priest hastily fell silent.
Soon after, all the Servants, including the High Priest and the Steward, withdrew from the chamber.
Barcas, his waterlogged body held rigidly upright, observed the Young Aide quietly. At this silent urging, the man’s firmly sealed lips parted.
“The suppression operation… has ended in failure. I am truly sorry.”
“Explain in detail.”
Barcas demanded calmly, without apparent disturbance. The man, scrutinizing his complexion with a stern expression, proceeded with his report.
“Immediately after Your Grace collapsed, intruders exploited the chaos to infiltrate the castle. They launched an assault on the Underground Prison, freeing the prisoners and inciting rebellion within the castle walls. Fortunately, upon hearing the news, Lucas swiftly led his subordinates to suppress the uprising; however….”
“The expedition did not proceed as scheduled.”
Barcas cut off his words. The man nodded slowly.
“The intruders possessed remarkably formidable skills. They breached the encirclement with ease, escaped the castle, and vanished without a trace in an instant. As a result, the forces stationed in the Armund Forest had to join the siege around Kalmor and conduct a search operation.”
“So, were the intruders apprehended?”
“…I apologize. We searched throughout the night, but they had already disappeared.”
The man confessed with a dejected expression. Barcas twisted his lips in a cold sneer.
“So in the end, I’ve let both the intruders and the plunderers slip through my fingers.”
“…I am truly ashamed. I should have seen through their scheme to buy time much sooner….”
“Lift your head. I’m hardly in a position to reproach anyone when I’ve been foolish enough to fall victim to poisoning myself.”
Barcas let out a laugh tinged with self-mockery. Beirov, observing his complexion, carefully shifted the subject.
“…Do you remember how you came to be poisoned?”
Barcas regarded him with an expressionless face, his smile fading. Beirov swallowed dryly with visible effort before continuing.
“It appears the Grand Duchess has been colluding with the Heretic Cult. She likely placed a toxin in your cup with the intention of sabotaging this subjugation campaign….”
“Do you have concrete evidence?”
Barcas cut him off with a flat tone. Beirov’s face, which had shown a moment of bewilderment, quickly hardened into coldness.
“There is no doubt whatsoever that the Grand Duchess administered the poison.”
“I asked if you have physical evidence.”
“She confessed to it herself.”
Barcas simply stared at the man with eyes as cold as ice. Sensing his stubborn resolve, Beirov raised his voice in frustration.
“That is not all. Numerous items symbolizing the Great Spirit Church were discovered in the Grand Duchess’s sleeping chamber. She deliberately sought to harm you in order to save the Heretic Sect!”
In that instant, a dull, shattering sound echoed through Barcas’s mind—as though a part of his brain had burst under immense pressure. He gripped his forehead with one hand as if to shake off that eerie sensation, and from within his constricted throat, he barely managed to extract a composed voice.
“Where is she now?”
“She is confined at the top of the Castle Tower.”
Beirov replied coldly.
“All the retainers of the Grand Ducal House are in an uproar, demanding she be placed on the scaffold at once. Yet no matter how heinous a villainess she may be for attempting to poison her own husband, we cannot execute the Emperor’s daughter without proper legal proceedings.”
Barcas clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. An inexplicable rage clawed at his insides. With bloodshot eyes, he glared at his Young Aide and issued a command in an icy voice.
“Bring her before me at once.”
Beirov, studying his intentions with a cautious gaze, soon bowed and left the chamber.
Not long after, armed Soldiers entered the Bedroom with Talia. Barcas, who had been gazing up at the sky darkening into deep indigo, slowly turned his gaze.
She looked so pitifully cold despite the height of summer. Upon seeing her in the guise of a prisoner, Barcas felt a rage so intense it seemed to evaporate his very mind, and he drew a deep breath.
At first glance, she had clearly been treated harshly. Her once-radiant golden hair hung in disarray, heavily draping her slender neck and back, and her thin silk dress was smeared with cobwebs and dust.
As Barcas’s gaze swept methodically over her, it caught on her bare feet protruding from beneath her skirt hem.
He unconsciously held his breath. The fact that she stood shoeless, like a vagrant, ignited a sudden murderous intent within him.
Suppressing that irrational emotion, he cast a frigid gaze upon the Soldiers surrounding her.
“All of you, withdraw.”
“Your Grace, the Grand Duchess is a dangerous individual. We cannot leave her alone with you without supervision….”
“Does my current state amuse you?”
A bleak smile suddenly spread across Barcas’s lips. The Soldiers’ bodies stiffened as they sensed the threat embedded within it. He gestured with his chin as if to say he would not repeat himself.
The Soldiers, bowing their heads, carefully withdrew backward.
“Then we shall wait outside the door. Should any trouble arise, please call for us.”
As they opened the door and exited in unison, Barcas, leaning his head against the headboard of the bed, scrutinized her pallid face intently.
Though he could not examine her in detail due to her bowed head, it was not difficult to discern that she had visibly lost weight. Feeling disgust toward himself for noticing this, he spoke coldly.
“I hear you confessed to placing a toxin in my cup.”
Her shoulders trembled with a flinch. Gradually, her eyes, which had been fixed upon the floor, slowly rose. Meeting her vacant, lifeless gaze, Barcas’s expression twisted.

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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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