CHAPTER 139

A place where people come to relieve their shameful desires that are difficult to share with anyone.

Because it was such a place, unexpected accidents sometimes occurred.

The men who came here had the misconception that they could buy everything from a woman with just a few faded silver coins.

"Ah! This crazy bastard!"

Under the faint light of a dimly flickering lantern, a man was yelling as if to chase away someone leaving.

The woman who was sitting down in front of the man, holding the child, had a bright blue swollen palm mark on her neck.

It was a wound that would have been broken and bent beyond repair if they had been even a little late.

"How dare this lunatic stab me?"

A tiny dagger hung from the man's waist, just out of reach.

The man, who was struggling with both arms to pull it out, eventually chose to release his anger towards the woman and child in front of him.

"······!"

A vibration that resonates deeply as if he had been hit.

Yet, the reason he could endure it was probably because of his mother shielding him with her entire body.

Motherhood, shining even in the lowest and humblest places, had no hesitation in embracing the young boy.

The sound of rain from outside filled the air.

Vlad still remembered the sound of his mother's screams echoing along with the rain.

Vlad had always been someone who wished to protect something.

However, the sword he used to protect someone for the first time was too small and short.

※※※※

Leading the way on his noir, Vlad seemed uncomfortable as he kept scratching at the back of his head.

"······Is that kid still staring at me?"

"Yes."

A quiet response to the subtly inquiring question.

Vlad frowned after hearing Stefan's answer.

'Why does he keep doing that?'

Last night, they rescued the last survivor of the Rabnoma family from the slave traders, Karl, still clung to the woman's embrace, only staring intently at Vlad's back.

"Go and try to act friendly at least."

".....He's holding a knife right now."

"Not 'he,' Karl Rabnoma. The more accurate the title, the better."

It was a reminder to treat him with caution, as he was still a son of the prestigious count's family and would be of great use in the future.

Vlad, who had been scolded by Marcus for no reason, carefully turned his head and looked at the boy.

A small child who didn't even look ten.

Though he seemed fragile, wrapped tightly in the woman's embrace, the dagger he held tightly gleamed as sharp as ever.

"It seems like he liked the cloak you gave him."

"I just lent it to him to avoid the rain. I'll take it back anyway."

The woman and boy who were riding the horse with difficulty were now covering themselves with black cloak.

A cloak from the North that spared no expense.

The cloak Okasna gave Vlad was warm as she intended, and now that warmth was enough to embrace the two who were wandering in the humblest of places.

"Anyway, treat them with respect. There's nothing good about having a bad relationship."

It is the responsibility of the child to take care of the child.

In this place filled with sinister faces, Vlad was the only one who looked somewhat reassuring, so Marcus's selection was accurate.

"······Understood."

Green hair cut in a messy manner, as if it had been cut off in a hurry.

The boy's sunken cheeks, perhaps due to a rough experience, certainly made him look shabby, but even so, his natural appearance did not fade at all.

'He'll probably make quite an impression on girls when he grows up.'

Though he looked like a kid who wasn't even ten, Vlad was certain that he would attract attention from women.

However, Vlad didn't know.

The little boy facing him right now was having similar thoughts to his own.

"······Hey."

"Get lost."

Before he could finish speaking, a rejection flew at him like a dagger.

It was a somewhat brave first attempt at conversation, but the boy's cold response only made the atmosphere chillier.

"I haven't even said anything yet."

"Get lost. Stay away from Marta."

The dagger being waved around wasn't threatening at all.

However, the eyes that were looking at the end were harsh.

"Fine."

Vlad nodded as he looked into the woman's apologetic eyes.

Though it wasn't the kind of action one would take toward a benefactor, it was a behavior that could be understood and sympathized with enough.

No matter how young, Vlad knew there were things worth protecting.

"You're doing well."

"······."

Vlad smiled bitterly as he looked at the boy with a lot of thorns like a wounded hedgehog.

But still, you're better than me.

In the end, you succeeded in protecting, after all.

That day, there was a thin scar on the slave merchant's neck, lying sprawled on the bed.

Small and shallow, yet undoubtedly a fatal wound.

The boy had definitely aimed for it and prevented the malice that was about to attack the woman.

It was a much better finish than his own when he was young.

"Keep doing that in the future."

A similar scene but a completely different outcome.

Seeing the boy blocking the wounded woman inside the slave merchant's tent, Vlad found some inexplicable comfort.

"Take it."

"······Huh?"

Though Karl had bristled with thorns, he was startled by the paper ball flying at him without context.

Despite being piled up, the unmistakable scent of pastry.

The insignia of the Kanoor family was engraved on the paper ball.

"······What's this?"

"Eat it. It's expensive."

Kanoor family sausage.

It was Vlad's way of complimenting and thanking Karl.

※※※※

Like the heat of the crackling bonfire, the boy's gaze from afar was still fixed on Vlad.

Now, Vlad was just quietly eating the beef jerky, looking away from the eyes that anyone could clearly see.

"It seems like Karl Rabnoma is quite interested in you."

"······I gave him my cloak and even my favorite sausage."

"Well, if it's Kanoor family sausage, I would say it would be different."

Marcus nodded silently at Vlad's response.

It wasn't that showing interest just because he gave something was appropriate, but it was still a decent form of relationship building.

He had thought Vlad would only behave monotonously and beggarly since he lived in lowly places, but he seemed to know how to reciprocate nonetheless.

…."But can that kid really do it?"

Vlad, who was cutting beef jerky with a dagger, looked at Karl beyond the flames of the bonfire.

The last remaining Rabnoma.

Perhaps a boy who could become another force in the west.

But the burden on that boy's shoulders was undoubtedly heavy.

"We have to make it possible."

Behind Gaidar, there were still families maintaining neutrality without any movement.

Some families were just waiting for an opportunity, but it was a fact that there were still families loyal to the Rabnoma family.

"If we can just break Gaidar's momentum in this war, the Western Alliance will surely falter."

War doesn't end with just one clash.

Peter had been looking beyond the battle in Deomar, and for that, he had invested a lot of time and money into pulling the last remaining Rabnoma out of the west.

"If the frontlines emerge from both ends, even Gaidar will be troubled."

Even if they were advancing forward, if flames erupted from behind, even Gaidar would be perplexed.

To prevent such unforeseen events, they had been eliminating the bloodlines of Rabnoma all this time.

"Now all we have to do is go back..."

The mission was successful, and unexpected outcomes were also achieved.

However, Marcus, chewing on the jerky Vlad handed him, frowned.

"What's the problem?"

"No, it's not that."

Marcus, a knight who had long operated in the shadow of Bayezid, had always been thrust into complex situations and had successfully led most missions.

"It's just that things are going too smoothly."

It was a superstition, a jinx gained through countless experiences. If the beginning was good, the end wouldn't be.

"I see."

It was a feeling that couldn't be explained by mere premonition, but rather the result of accumulated experiences.

Marcus's worries, based on his long experience, were never baseless. Like his ominous premonition, a crow flew through the dark night sky.

Amidst its flapping wings, the scent of blood carried on the breeze didn't seem to bring good news.

"No wonder things were going too smoothly."

A crow flew in, covered in someone's blood.

The message it brought urgently scribbled a warning from someone.

"······Stop camping."

"Is it serious?"

Though orders hadn't been given yet, the undercover group began swiftly extinguishing the campfire upon sensing Marcus's mood.

As their swift actions began, Karl's eyes, which had just started to find some stability, began to tremble visibly.

"No wonder things were going too smoothly."

The gaze Marcus directed at Vlad began to shimmer significantly.

Bayezid's best dragon slayer.

A knight from the North who had diligently cultivated a grudge against Gaidar.

Sigmund's gaze on Vlad was deeper than Marcus had anticipated.

"It seems Gaidar harbors deeper resentment towards you than I expected."

"······."

Marcus hands Vlad the blood-stained note.

The note he received had his name written on it as well as a name he had never heard of before.

※※※※

"Have all the paths been sealed?"

"Yes, my lord. Through the magical message, we have received confirmations from the lords."

Peter's interference forced Count Sigmund to sit down reluctantly inside the tent of the main camp as he quietly studied the map.

"It seems we have cast the net, for now."

The Northern assault team, which had been wreaking havoc in the West, had not only earned the grudge of Gaidar but also stirred the anger of neighboring lords with its intense strikes along the western coast.

"Anyway, that bastard had built up resentment so quickly."

One by one, objects begin to block the path on the map.

The pieces moved from Sigmund's fingertips were blocking all paths to the north, like pieces on a chessboard.

"Being too proud is also a problem. Vlad of Shoara."

The lords from the West were moving more aggressively than expected. 

The unexpected turn of events was now manifesting as a growing resentment, slowly tightening its grip around Vlad.

"How long until they arrive?"

"Three days."

"Good. That should be enough."

And thus, the last remaining path.

Hearing those words, a deep smile began to appear on Sigmund's face as he slowly blocked the path.

"Send my cavalry to that brat.Show damn Bayezid the will of Gaidar."

"Yes, my lord."

The final piece settled from Sigmund's fingertips.

Atop it flew the flag representing the swiftest cavalry from the West.

"It's time you paid for your audacity, Bayezid."

The West is the taker, not the loser.

Sigmund had to demonstrate this to Peter.

The sound of hooves departing the camp filled the air.

Across the rugged plains, a band of lawless riders galloped unimpeded.

The flag they were holding had the emblem of the cavalry feared by everyone in the West.

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