The Forgotten Field - Chapter 205

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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 205
Barcas burst through the castle gate, caked in dust and grime, abandoning his light cavalry mount as it convulsed with foam flecking its lips. He cut across the Training Grounds without pause.
Hundreds of mounted warriors poured from the Barracks upon hearing of the Grand Duke’s arrival. Ignoring the Knights who bowed in unison, Barcas ascended the stone staircase and passed through the Inner Gate.
The Garden’s landscape, heavy with the melancholy of late autumn, filled his vision.
He crossed the Inner Courtyard, where fallen leaves lay thick upon the ground, and strode into the Great Hall where dozens of Servants stood in a long line.
“Oh, you have arrived, sir.”
The Steward waiting by the door greeted him with a trembling voice.
“You must be weary from your long journey. I imagine you have already received reports, but….”
“How is Lucas?”
Barcas pushed back the hood he had worn and cut off the Steward’s words with cold precision.
The man, whose wrinkled face bore the weight of sorrow, replied in a strained tone.
“Thanks to the High Priest’s efforts, he barely survived the crisis, but the wound to his neck is deep, and there may be permanent damage….”
The man trailed off, his lips pressing shut.
In his stead, the Head Handmaiden, who had been waiting to the left of the hall, offered a careful explanation.
“The exact prognosis can only be confirmed once the young master regains consciousness.”
“He still hasn’t awakened?”
“The bleeding was severe at the time of the incident. It will take some time for him to fully recover his strength.”
Barcas, who had stood rigid for a moment, exhaled in a hollow voice.
“I wish to see his condition myself. Where is Lucas?”
“We have placed the young master in his usual Sleeping Chamber on the second floor.”
He crossed the hall without hesitation.
As he climbed the staircase, carpeted in deep burgundy, the door to the Bedroom that the Grand Duke Sierkan’s line had used for generations came into view.
The Head Handmaiden guided him past it and into the Multi-level Corridor.
“It is this room.”
The Head Handmaiden pointed to the double doors located in the Chapel Wing.
Barcas approached and grasped the handle, pulling it open. With a heavy creak, the dim interior of the Sleeping Chamber was revealed.
He stepped inside and slowly surveyed the room.
Handmaidens who appeared to have gathered to attend him, a High Priest with a sorrowful expression, and Raina with eyes reddened from weeping surrounded the bed.
“G-Grand Duke, sir, we are honored by your presence.”
One of the Handmaidens, who had belatedly noticed him, hastily bowed her head. Following her lead, everyone in the room rose from their places and paid their respects.
Barcas passed by them and approached the bedside. Beyond the veil, his younger brother lay motionless, bandages wound tightly around his neck.
Barcas gazed quietly at that pallid, bloodless face before directing a question toward the High Priest standing at the head of the bed.
“Is there any improvement?”
The High Priest shook his head with a sorrowful expression.
“We must observe him a while longer. I continue to cast recovery magic upon him, but the wound was so severe….”
Barcas looked down at Lucas again.
The face that had been vibrant mere months ago had faded to an ashen hue, gaunt and wasted. Having hovered at death’s door for more than ten days, it was only natural that he bore the visage of a corpse.
He clenched his fists tightly. At that moment, a sharp voice cut through the silence.
“Are you satisfied now?”
His gaze shifted across the bed. Raina, looking no less haggard than Lucas, glared at him with eyes full of resentment.
“All of your vassals agreed that the Wolf Beast needed to be dealt with, yet you silenced them and listened only to that woman. Lucas’s condition is entirely your fault, brother. This happened because you left that Wolf Beast alone!”
“Ah, Miss!”
The Head Handmaiden tried to stop her in alarm, but Raina paid her no mind.
“Get out this instant! You have no right to be here!”
A cry bordering on a scream echoed through the Bedroom.
Barcas, who had been watching his fuming sister with an expressionless face, finally withdrew from the Chamber.
In the Corridor, roughly a dozen vassals who had heard the commotion were already waiting.
One of them opened his mouth with a grave demeanor.
“Your Grace, we can no longer overlook the Grand Duchess’s outrages.”
Barcas offered no response.
The man, whose shoulders had trembled as if intimidated by his cold gaze, soon continued with solemn conviction.
“The Grand Duchess secretly released the magical beast that attacked Young Master Lucas. She cares nothing for the safety of us Eastern Faction members! How much longer must we remain silent and condone her misdeeds?”
Another man chimed in with agitated fervor, as if in agreement.
“We must eliminate that magical beast that attacked Young Master Lucas at once! And please, Your Grace, impose appropriate punishment upon the Grand Duchess.”
Barcas gazed down the Corridor as darkness began to settle.
Deep shadows fell even over the door to the Sleeping Chamber that he and she had once shared.
The thought that she might be listening to these accusations made every nerve in my body tense sharply. Feeling a strong revulsion toward myself for such concern, I closed my eyes tightly, then opened them again.
“Assemble a subjugation force at once. I will deal with that Wolf Beast myself.”
“As for the Grand Duchess….”
“I will impose appropriate punishment upon her as well.”
An elder vassal quietly restrained the man who stepped forward as if to press for details about what punishment would be administered.
Barcas passed them and climbed the Staircase leading to the third floor. Upon entering the Chamber adjoining his Study, a neatly arranged Bedroom and a Fireplace with flames already kindled came into view.
Barcas stripped off his tattered robe and carelessly threw it to the floor, then unfastened his breastplate and placed it on its stand. He removed his sweat and dust-covered outer garment and was washing his face with water from a basin when a knock sounded at the door from outside.
He remained silent for a long while before finally speaking.
“Come in.”
Presently, a ghostly pale figure entered the Chamber. Barcas regarded her with frozen eyes.
Talia Roem Sierkan bore a resemblance to how she had looked when he had awakened from the brink of death.
A woman with thick hair carelessly draped down her back looked up at him with anxious eyes.
After studying that face, which I had not seen in months, for a long time, Barcas picked up a towel with an indifferent air and dried his face. Then he issued a cold instruction to the Guard standing at the doorway.
“Escort the Grand Duchess to the Third Floor Women’s Quarters. She is forbidden from leaving without my permission for the time being.”
Soldiers approached her side to carry out the order. A woman who hastily moved toward him to avoid them spoke pleadingly.
“Wait, just a moment. Talk to me for just a moment.”
Barcas, who was putting on a clean new shirt, slowly turned to face her. Her body, wrapped in a wrinkled linen dress, was noticeably gaunt.
In that instant, an inexplicable rage burned through my mind. Desperately suppressing it, I gestured with my head to the Soldiers standing at the doorway.
“Wait outside.”
The Soldiers withdrew the moment the order was given.
When the sound of the door closing was heard, her shoulders dropped slightly as if tension had eased.
Barcas, who had been carefully observing her, took a fresh doublet from the shelf and spoke in a cold tone.
“I cannot spare much time. If you have something to say, speak now.”
“Is… is Lucas alright?”
His question, hesitant and faltering, drew a dry laugh from him.
“What do you think?”
Aria bit her lip hard and lowered her head.
Barcas, watching her with eyes as cold as ice, turned away with a weary sigh. He donned a woolen doublet over his thin shirt and picked up armor made of Wyvern leather from the display stand.
As he fastened each piece to his body in turn, a fragile voice trembling with tears shattered the sharp silence.
“Please… spare Khan.”
Barcas froze, his body going rigid, before slowly turning his head. She seized his arm desperately and continued speaking.
“I—I’ll listen to whatever you say from now on. Whatever it is… I won’t quarrel with the vassals again… and I’ll be kind to the servants. If you tell me to never leave my chamber for the rest of my life, I’ll do exactly that… Please, please, don’t kill Khan.”
In that moment, it felt as though I had swallowed boiling oil—my insides burned with fury.
I seized her jaw roughly and leaned my head over hers, speaking with menacing intensity.
“My brother is hovering between life and death right now. And you’re sitting here worrying about the welfare of some beast.”
All color drained from her face.
Barcas stared at her ashen countenance as though he could devour it, then released his grip with a dismissive gesture. He turned away coldly and spoke.
“I’m done indulging your whims. Since that creature has harmed a human, I cannot leave it unattended.”

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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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