The Forgotten Field - Chapter 198

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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 198
As long as that Wolf Beast remained at her side, no one would dare approach her carelessly.
With that secured, I could finally devote myself entirely to suppressing the Heretic Cult problem for the time being.
Barcas headed directly to the Checkpoint located just beside the North Gate. There, he meticulously examined the entry and exit records from the day of the attack to the present, the duty officer’s logs, and the list of the deceased.
The casualties were greater than anticipated. Five Soldiers who had been guarding the Northern Region City Walls, four guards who had been watching the Underground Prison, and five servants within the Castle had lost their lives. Even the four servants who had been taken as hostages were discovered two days later as cold corpses.
The loss of life did not end there. More than a dozen others had sustained injuries so severe that even healing magic could not restore them.
As Barcas slowly scanned through that lengthy list of victims, his gaze became fixed at one particular point.
“The Healer was also caught in the incident?”
“Yes, regrettably, she was found with a dagger lodged in her heart.”
The Guard Captain, whose tense face had been watching for his reaction, answered with a troubled sigh.
“The Healer resides in a dwelling far removed from the Main Castle. It seems she encountered the intruders as they were fleeing through the North Gate and met her demise.”
Barcas’s jaw clenched rigidly.
As the image of his Wife sleeping defenseless in the Healer’s quarters surfaced in his mind, a chill spread through his chest.
It seemed she had grown quite close to that Healer over time. She would receive considerable shock upon hearing this news. Lost in such thoughts, Barcas irritably ran his fingers through his hair.
Even in this dire situation, he found himself disgusted that he was worrying about her distress.
Nearly twenty people had died. There was no reason to grieve one particular death more deeply simply because she had been intimate with that person.
He cast the list he held onto the desk as though discarding it.
“Allocate a separate budget and ensure sufficient compensation is paid to the families of the victims.”
With those words, he rose from his seat and exited the checkpoint, when murmuring voices reached his ears from nearby.
Barcas turned his head absently and noticed Soldiers lined up before the Castle Gate, causing him to furrow his brow.
“What is this about?”
The Soldier standing guard at the entrance startled and quickly turned around.
“Your, Your Grace!”
The Soldier, who had looked up at him with an expression as though he had seen a ghost, hurriedly stepped aside from the entrance. Then, bowing his head, he spoke.
“It’s just that visitors have arrived, and we were waiting for permission to allow them entry into the Castle.”
He narrowed his eyes and gazed beyond the barred gate. Through the gaps in the iron lattice, a towering giant in a deep indigo robe stood prominently visible.
Upon recognizing his identity, Barcas’s brow furrowed. Roman Talis, a Holy Knight dispatched from the Central Church Authority, stood there with two subordinates.
“We meet again after half a month.”
The man leaned his face close between the bars and offered a gentle smile.
“I heard you had suffered a calamity, but it appears you have fortunately recovered your health. Seeing your robust appearance in person finally puts my mind at ease.”
“What brings you here?”
Barcas dismissed the hollow pleasantries and pressed directly for the purpose of his visit.
The man, leaning against the iron bars, continued in a subtle tone.
“Since the subjugation plan failed, most of the Heretics have not vanished without a trace. We find ourselves in a situation where we can no longer simply wait with our hands folded. I have come to request permission for the Holy Temple Guardian Order to undertake a direct investigation.”
“As I have said before, I cannot allow outsiders to rummage through my domain as they please. Stop wasting time and leave.”
“If you insist, then we have no choice but to request the Imperial Family’s cooperation in the investigation.”
Barcas, turning his body toward the Stables, fixed him with a cold gaze.
“Are you threatening me now?”
“Surely not. I am simply making a courteous request for cooperation.”
The man’s voice became more veiled.
“I myself find tedious procedures utterly distasteful. Since neither of us wishes for this matter to escalate, might we not find a quiet accord?”
Barcas’s face hardened into an unyielding mask. He could sense it instinctively—this man was using Talia as leverage.
He spoke through gritted teeth.
“Open the gate.”
The moment his command fell, the iron bars rose slowly upward.
The man who entered through the Castle Gate, leading his subordinates, wore a leisurely smile upon his lips.
“A wise choice.”
Ignoring the voice tinged with subtle triumph, I headed toward the Barracks Building connected to the City Walls.
“Follow me.”
The man pursued with movements surprisingly light for his massive frame.
Barcas stepped into the shared Office used by the Outer Garrison, then gestured to the waiting Soldiers.
“All of you, leave.”
As they filed out in unison, he turned to the giant standing at the threshold and spoke with chilling coldness.
“Well? Come inside.”
The man, whose sharp eyes had been surveying the Chamber, soon signaled his subordinates to withdraw.
Once they were finally alone, Barcas settled into a conference chair and asked directly.
“What exactly do you want?”
“As I mentioned before—permit the Holy Temple Guardian Order to investigate the true nature of the Heretic Cult in the Eastern Territories.”
The man replied calmly. Barcas let out a hollow laugh and reached for the wine bottle on the table.
“Of course, you also want the right to dispose of the criminals?”
“If you fear we might conduct a civilian massacre, we can proceed with a joint investigation alongside soldiers from the Grand Ducal House.”
The man spoke as though granting a favor.
“Our purpose is to prevent the spread of heretical ideology, not to orchestrate a festival of slaughter in the Eastern Territories. I assure you we shall transport the criminals humanely and have them face judgment under the law.”
Barcas took a sip of the potent wine and observed his counterpart intently.
Intellectually, he knew there was no reason to refuse this man’s proposal. The proliferation of heretics in his own lands was something he too wished to prevent.
With his suppression campaign already in ruins, he lacked any legitimate grounds to reject the Religious Order’s assistance. Yet his instincts screamed an endless warning—he must not trust this man.
“Should you facilitate my duties smoothly, I too shall accommodate your interests.”
The man, sensing his hesitation, made the offer in a measured tone.
Barcas fixed him with eyes as cold as winter frost.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I shall suppress the various suspicions surrounding the Grand Duchess.”
The man replied without hesitation.
“Rumors abound that the Grand Duchess conspired with the Heretic Cult to poison you. Yet you have imposed no punishment thus far—clearly, you wish to bury this unsavory affair.”
“….”
“I too wish to avoid the tedious business of investigating the Grand Duchess of the Eastern Territories on heresy charges. Should you aid my work, I shall leave the suspicions surrounding her as mere gossip.”
“In other words, if I refuse to cooperate, you’ll make my wife a subject of investigation.”
The man answered with nothing but a smooth smile.
Barcas gripped the goblet of wine so tightly it began to crumple.
This man was now demanding he choose between his duty as a lord and the safety of his wife.
It was a choice that required no deliberation.
He had been educated to prioritize the security of the Empire and the Eastern Territories above all else. He could not allow suspicious individuals to roam freely through the Grand Duchy simply because of one person.
Yet entirely different words spilled from his lips.
“…Very well. I grant permission.”
In that instant, a scorching and bitter sensation spread through his chest.
Barcas recognized it for what it was—a sense of defeat. It was an emotion that had coiled within him ever since becoming entangled with her.
He stared down at the completely crushed goblet through dimmed eyes. The spilled wine clung to his fingers with a viscous, blood-like stickiness.
Whenever he became involved with her, he invariably made the wrong choice.
Right and wrong ceased to matter, and he found himself consumed by nothing but primal impulse, hurtling down a path of ruin—like a moth drawn toward flames despite knowing it would be consumed.
“A most prudent decision.”
The man spoke smoothly, his face wearing an expression of amusement. Had I continued to face that grin much longer, I would have seized him by the throat and crushed him against the table.
I rose from my seat and departed the Conference Hall. And I made myself a vow.
This would be the last time. The last time I would make a wrong choice because of her.

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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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