The Forgotten Field - Chapter 204

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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 204
The interior of the Main Castle had become packed with refugees who had fled from the city.
Barcas, who had been carefully examining the gaunt faces of those who hadn’t bathed in weeks, stopped in his tracks upon discovering a row of corpses laid out along one side of the Hall.
Soldiers in blood-soaked gambesons and commoners in civilian clothes who appeared to have lost their lives in the rebellion lay in neat rows.
“Are these all the bodies?”
“No, sir. The corpses of the soldiers who served the Castle Lord and the mercenaries he employed have been stacked in the Backyard of the Castle.”
The Elder Priest in black monastic robes, kneeling beside the bodies, replied with evident tension in his voice.
Barcas gestured to the Knights standing behind him.
“Go and verify it.”
He then added, his gaze sweeping methodically through the Hall with cold precision.
“I will seal the Castle for the time being and conduct a thorough investigation of the identities of all who reside within it. Only those confirmed to have had no part in the rebellion will be permitted to leave this place.”
Fearful sighs erupted from all directions.
He left behind those who clung to one another, their sobs muffled, and ascended the Staircase in the center of the Hall.
The Castle Lord appeared to have met his end in his Sleeping Chamber. As I entered the spacious room located in the center of the third floor, a thick stench of blood assaulted my nostrils.
I walked past a carpet stained with dark bloodstains and approached a desk that was half-destroyed. The desk, marred by blood and ink, was scattered with a disorderly pile of parchments.
As I gathered them and rapidly scanned through them, I discovered a letter requesting military support from someone, and my eyes narrowed.
The blood-stained page was filled with a chaotic mixture of pleading sentences and symbols that appeared to be military ciphers.
‘…A letter to allies, perhaps. Or….’
I shifted my gaze to the bottom of the letter.
In the recipient field was written the words “Gray Bear.”
If this referred to Bjorn Blodar Heimdal, then my assumption that the ringleaders of the Northern rebellion had hidden themselves here in Tarlin was entirely mistaken.
I roughly ran my fingers through my disheveled hair, cast down the parchment document, and began searching through the desk drawers for other clues.
At that moment, Darian’s voice came from the doorway.
“Have you found anything?”
I shook my head while looking down at the empty drawer.
“Not yet.”
“I’ve had some success.”
Darian righted an overturned chair from the floor and sat down heavily upon it as he continued.
“The Soldiers discovered chests filled with gold coins in the Underground Storage. From the circumstances, it appears to be payment for selling military supplies to Balto.”
He then exhaled a long sigh and added.
“Beyond that, we’ve identified about five or six mercenaries among those the Castle Lord employed who appear to be from the North. They’re definitely rebels brought in for smuggling operations.”
“Are there any survivors?”
Darian shook his head at my question.
“Those who served the Castle Lord were nearly annihilated. A few of the Steward and Guards who were close associates of the Castle Lord did survive, but it seems unlikely we’ll extract meaningful information from them.”
“Interrogate them until they divulge everything they know.”
I issued the order in an emotionless voice as I turned away from the desk.
“If we let this slide, the same incident will repeat itself. Anyone involved in this affair will be dealt with severely as an example. Conduct a thorough investigation of every person residing in the Castle, and search every corner of it meticulously to collect any evidence.”
“I acknowledge your orders.”
Darian replied in a heavy voice and rose to his feet, leaving the room.
I searched the bookshelves a bit longer, but upon concluding that I would find no further meaningful clues, I left the ransacked Sleeping Chamber and passed through the silent Corridor.
Then, catching sight of a familiar landscape beyond the shattered windowpane, I halted my steps.
In one corner of the Garden, bathed in the piercing sunlight of late autumn, yellow roses bloomed in profusion. For a long while, I gazed down at them with frozen eyes, then resumed walking as if erasing the phantom image of her that had suddenly flickered before me.
Though I had conducted harsh interrogations for several days, I could glean no information about the rebels’ main stronghold.
Once it became clear that the instigators of the Northern rebellion were not in Tarlin, Kailias led the Knight Order to advance toward a small fiefdom located in the north.
He seemed to harbor hopes that Bjorn might be hiding in the nearby region. However, I was certain that Bjorn had fled this place entirely and vanished without a trace.
‘Judging by the considerable military supplies purchased in the Eastern Territories, the forces supporting him remain intact.’
Having secured the necessary supplies, he would have moved by now to the Northern Region, where his base of power existed.
I leafed through the smuggling ledger I had additionally uncovered, my brow furrowing.
A question arose: how had he secured such funds when all the major cities had been lost and even Amasek had fallen?
The Northern Region possessed countless mines and vast natural forests, but all trade routes had been cut off immediately after the war erupted.
Smuggling alone had its limits in procuring military funds. Perhaps there had been covert support from feudal lords in other regions.
Feeling my head throb, I hurled the ledger onto the desk. Then, leaning back against the chair, I pressed firmly between my eyes.
As I considered the possibility of intervention by another faction, my thoughts became dizzyingly complex.
The most likely external collaborator was Balis, which shared a border to the west.
The descendants of the ancient Kingdom of Balis, who had settled at the northwestern extremity, could not shake off their national yearning to completely escape the influence of their long-standing rival, Libadon.
Dristan could not be excluded either. The Dristani people, who had settled in the Southeastern Region of the Robiden Continent, harbored ancient grudges against the Wedonians who shared their western border. Those people too likely harbored desires for independence.
One hundred fifty years had passed since Emperor Darian’s death. This Empire, composed of ten peoples, now stood upon a precarious balance that could collapse at any moment.
‘…A third force desiring independence from the Empire may be scheming behind the scenes.’
Perhaps that was why the peace treaty negotiations were stalling.
I exhaled a weary sigh and gazed out the window at the sky beginning to brighten with dawn light.
Tonight, too, I had spent the darkness in prolonged wakefulness. My limbs, heavy from accumulated fatigue, twitched with subtle spasms.
Suppressing this, I clenched my fists tightly and rose with composure. I felt a tingling sensation spreading from my arms and shoulders to the nape of my neck, yet the pain still had not reached my mind.
Only an instinctive judgment that I would soon be in danger if I did not rest brushed dryly across my consciousness.
‘I should procure a sedative soon.’
But for now, I could endure. Having coldly assessed my condition, I picked up my discarded coat and left the military barracks.
Upon the City Walls, the corpses of prisoners hung at regular intervals.
Over the past several weeks, thirty retainers had been executed. It was the result of discovering that most of the lords and administrative officials of the Northeastern Region had participated in acts of treason.
Consequently, a widespread power vacuum had emerged in the Northeastern Region. Filling that void promptly was also an urgent matter.
I rapidly sifted through candidates in my mind. I intended to appoint a new lord while simultaneously advancing Raina’s marriage prospects.
If my sister stubbornly refused marriage, assigning Lucas to this post was also an option.
There was no better training ground than Tarlin to master practical affairs, and it would not be amiss to have him build a record before announcing him as the official heir.
Weighing various options in my mind, I withdrew a water flask from the leather pouch at my waist and moistened my parched lips.
Then I heard commotion near the Castle Gate.
Turning my head, I frowned upon seeing Beirov rushing toward me without proper armor. His flustered appearance sent an ominous sensation down my spine.
“Your Excellency, an urgent telegram has arrived from Kalmor.”
The man who had rushed over gasped roughly for breath as he cried out. I straightened my posture from where I had been leaning against the fence.
The man extended the small bundle of parchment in his hand, his voice suppressing barely contained anger as he continued.
“You should return with haste. It appears that Lucas has been gravely wounded in an attack by the Grand Duchess’s Wolf Beast.”

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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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