The Forgotten Field - Chapter 217

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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 217
The man cast a gaze heavy with contemplation, his voice sinking into a grave tone.
“The aorta had ruptured. Had we arrived even moments later, even the High Priests would have been powerless to save you.”
Even hearing that he had nearly lost his life, Barcas felt no particular emotion stir within him.
As though inspecting the condition of a tool, Barcas raised his arm and repeatedly bent and straightened his finger joints, then posed a question in an even tone.
“How is the war progressing?”
“We succeeded in reclaiming Amasek, but the suppression of the rebels remains sluggish. It has been confirmed that the Balto Independence Forces, led by Bjorn Blodar Heimdal, have established a new stronghold in Jotungar. However, the terrain is so treacherous that advancing an army would be nearly impossible, so we are currently maintaining a standoff.”
He traced the geography of the Northern Region through his mind.
Jotungar was a formidable mountain range that cut across the boundary between the Northern Region and the Eastern Territories.
Narrow, steep gorges twisted together like a labyrinth, making it nearly impossible for a large force to advance while maintaining formation—a natural stronghold. There could be no better position from which to wage a prolonged conflict against forces many times one’s own number.
‘So he intends to buy time.’
Barcas recalled the crimson eyes that gleamed fiercely within the steel helm.
Reckless and headstrong, yet possessed of a chillingly keen sense for reading the currents of power.
When the Northern Noble Alliance turned its back, Bjorn Blodar Heimdal immediately rebuilt his forces by winning over the people of Balto. It occurred to him that perhaps it was also this man who had incited uprisings across Balto.
If he could drag out the conflict for merely another year or two, the Empire would slowly crumble from within—such was his calculation.
Currently, the Roem Imperial Family was under tremendous strain, pressuring feudal lords throughout the realm to muster vast armies to suppress the Northern rebellion. Should additional reinforcements be demanded, the nobility’s discontent would reach an irreversible point.
Eventually, the Imperial Family would have no choice but to offer concessions.
‘He used his head quite well.’
A dry laugh escaped Barcas as he slowly raised his upper body. This time, Darian made no attempt to stop him, merely casting a weary gaze.
Ignoring that, Barcas sat at the edge of the bed and exhaled a long breath from his lungs before asking.
“Where is this?”
“Dolakan Castle.”
The answer came from the doorway.
Following the sound of footsteps, Barcas turned his head and narrowed his eyes upon discovering the Second Son of Bleston House.
The man entered the chamber without seeking permission, continuing his explanation in a smooth tone.
“I suggested to the warriors of House Sierkan that they bring you here. Since the Imperial Envoy and the High Priest of Osyria are staying in this castle, I judged it would aid in your recovery.”
“I am indebted to you.”
Upon offering the formal courtesy, a faint smile crossed the man’s lips.
“It is hardly a matter deserving gratitude. Had you passed away as things stood, our plans would have come to naught as well.”
Darian furrowed his brow, his eyes watchful. It seemed he had not yet revealed to others the proposal he had made to Barcas.
Barcas let out a laugh tinged with derision.
“So that is why you brought me here. You hope I will raise this matter myself at the negotiation table?”
“As you know, we are hardly in a position to broach such a topic. Should you step forward personally, matters would proceed far more smoothly.”
Barcas twisted his lips.
It appeared Bleston House intended to make this marriage a cornerstone condition for concluding an alliance treaty.
“You seem rather pressed for time.”
“Nearly three years have passed since the war began. The entire Northern Region is being laid waste. How could one not be pressed for time?”
“Had you wished to protect Balto, you should never have contemplated treason in the first place.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
A bitter smile suddenly crossed the man’s lips.
“What matters is not the past that has already passed, but the future that lies ahead, is it not? Bleston House has made the decision to end this tedious war once and for all. If necessary, we are prepared to eliminate Bjorn Blodar Heimdal with our own hands.”
“….”
“Surely you also wish to bring this war to an end as swiftly as possible, Your Excellency.”
Barcas offered no response. The man, who had been staring intently at his silent face, released a small sigh and took a step backward.
“I do not expect Your Excellency to step into the negotiation chamber immediately. For now, please focus on recovering your strength.”
The man placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of respect and soon departed from the chamber.
The moment the door closed with a dull thud, Darian hurled his question forward.
“What exactly did that man propose?”
“He asked that his family’s daughter be made Crown Princess.”
Barcas picked up the water glass from the shelf and moistened his lips before speaking calmly.
“It seems they need insurance to ensure the Imperial Family won’t turn its back on them even after a peace treaty is signed.”
Darian’s mouth fell open, clearly astounded by the audacity of Bleston House. Yet, true to his nature as a man of practical judgment, he quickly seemed to calculate the tangible benefits such a proposal would bring.
“It is currently the most peaceful solution to end the civil war. It would also be a way to mollify the resentment of the Northern Forces.”
Barcas released a weary sigh.
“That would be true, if the Crown Prince willingly accepts it.”
“He must accept it, of course.”
Suddenly, a stern expression settled across Darian’s face.
“The Crown Prince bears significant responsibility for the citizen uprising in Balto. Since he sowed the seeds, it is only right that he reap what he has sown.”
Barcas, detecting the overt resentment in that voice, raised one eyebrow.
Most of the Eastern Territories’ nobility harbored vague goodwill toward Gareth, whose blood ran through House Sierkan. Yet his reckless conduct witnessed during the war seemed to have gradually eroded that favor.
Darian continued in a cold tone.
“The Grand Duke of the Eastern Territories cannot forever be left cleaning up the Imperial Family’s messes. Once this marriage is consummated, Your Excellency should return to Kalmor.”
A hollow laugh escaped Barcas’s lips.
“Are you now telling me to defy the Emperor’s command?”
“Your Excellency nearly lost your life.”
Darian spoke in a somber tone as his gaze swept over him carefully.
“If His Majesty possesses any conscience, he will not send the Grand Duke to the battlefield again.”
“….”
“It is time for you to rest now. Since becoming Grand Duke, you have not had a single moment to catch your breath.”
Barcas’s expression grew unusually speechless. The man left these words for him to consider carefully before departing from the bedroom.
Shortly after, the High Priests arrived to examine his condition. While they applied an unidentifiable salve to his wounds and wrapped fresh bandages around them, Barcas sat at an angle, gazing at the fading sunlight.
Once all treatment was complete, an elderly servant lit a small brazier and burned medicinal herbs with pain-relieving properties. It was an unnecessary measure, but he saw no reason to object.
As he inhaled the acrid smoke and drifted toward unconsciousness, he found himself contemplating dreams. The image of her smiling brightly amid beautiful scenery became vividly clear. Yet that image soon transformed into the face of one glaring at him with resentful eyes.
Suddenly, curiosity stirred within me.
How did she react upon hearing news of my injury?
“Go, and never return.”
A bitter taste coated my mouth as though I had swallowed ash.
When you see me return alive and whole, will you be disappointed? Or perhaps….
My scattered thoughts seemed to halt, blocked by something unseen.
With eyes dulled by the drug’s influence, he gazed at the darkening sky before leaning his head wearily against the wall.
An endless, suffocating darkness consumed the night.

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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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