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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 243: Between the Cracks (2)

Chapter 243: Between the Cracks (2)

The‍⁠ air in the⁠‍ long, narrow hallway​⁠⁠ was thick with⁠ a stale smell.‌​​

Joseph‌‍ should have been‍‍⁠ used to it⁠​⁠ by now, but​‍ the damp stench‍​ of the mansion‍ was like poison⁠⁠ to him, who‌‌ needed to breathe.⁠‌

Yet​⁠ at that moment,​‌‍ Joseph forgot even‌⁠​ the pervasive odor,​​⁠ focusing all his‍‌ attention on the⁠ man before him.​⁠​

“You‌‍ passed through death​​ in an incomplete‍⁠‌ way. You’re so​​ weak that a mere sigh could‌‌‌ knock you down.”​⁠‍

A man who had‍‌‌ lost all color.⁠⁠‌

But‌‌​ once, he had‍ been the brightest​⁠ of them all,‍​‌ and now he‌ stood before him.‌

“I‌‌‍ don’t understand what⁠ you mean, Your⁠ Majesty.”

Although​‍ he tried not​‍⁠ to show it,​​‌ Joseph couldn’t prevent⁠ his heart from‍​ racing upon hearing‌ Frausen’s voice.

And‍⁠ the quickened heartbeat‌ wasn’t just the​ result of a sense of danger.⁠

‘The⁠‌ founding king…’

The‌‌ man who appeared‍ in the storybooks‌‍⁠ his mother read‍‍‌ to him as‌​‍ a child was⁠‌‍ now standing before​⁠ Joseph’s eyes.

The⁠ existence of the​ Swordmaster, whom he‍‍‌ had vaguely admired​⁠ since childhood, was​⁠ like a bubble‍⁠ that Joseph couldn’t‌ grasp.

“…Don’t‌⁠ call me ‘Your​⁠ Majesty.’”

However,​‌ Joseph was no‍ longer the child⁠ he once was,​ and the man⁠‍​ before him was‍⁠ no longer the⁠ glorious knight.

They⁠‌ were walking in‍​‍ a place so‍ far removed from‌​⁠ what they had⁠ once dreamed of,‌​ and they simply⁠⁠ walked in silence​⁠ through the damp‍⁠‍ hallway.

Thump-⁠‍

The‌⁠‍ place where Frausen‌⁠‍ led Joseph, who‍‍ was in peril,‌​ was his own⁠‌⁠ room.

It⁠ was a spacious,‍⁠ well-organized room, far​​ larger than any‌‌ other room Joseph​⁠ had seen before,‌ and fortunately, the​⁠ stench that had⁠ bothered him did​‍⁠ not permeate it.⁠​

“Sit.”‍

“Yes.”‌‌‌

As‍​‍ Joseph looked around⁠‍ Frausen’s room, not‍‍⁠ even illuminated by⁠⁠ a single candle,‌‌​ his expression hardened‍⁠ as if he⁠ had finally regained‌‍ his senses.

Since‌​‍ he had just‍ been called in​‍‌ while eavesdropping on​‍ a conversation between‌ sorcerers, there was⁠‍ nothing unusual about‌​ what was going​‍ to happen next.​​​

“Joseph⁠​⁠ of Bayezid. At‍​ some point, I had planned to⁠ meet you.”

“…”‍‍

Was‌ it because he‍‌ had been in⁠ the darkness for‍ too long?

It‍ was a room‍​⁠ without light, but​ Joseph felt he‍​‍ could distinguish Frausen‍​‌ standing before him.​

“I‍​ heard you were‌ the one who​‌ first hired that‍​ Vlad fellow, correct?”‌

His⁠‍​ face was stiff‍​ as a corpse.​‍​

However,​‌‌ each time Vlad’s‍ name was mentioned,‍‍‍ an expression appeared​‌ on his face.‌‍

I don’t know what​ kind of emotion⁠⁠ it expressed, but‌ it certainly seemed​ a little more⁠ alive than before.‍​

“Yes.”‌​

“Good.⁠⁠​ Then tell me.”⁠⁠

Creak-‍‍‍

It​‌⁠ was probably just‍ a decorative candle.​‍⁠

Since⁠ Frausen, not being⁠ alive, didn’t need⁠‌ even the faintest‌‍ light.

“Slowly,​ from the beginning.​‌​ What was he⁠ like?”

But‌⁠‌ now Frausen struck​⁠ a match and‌ lit a candle‍‌ in the dark‍ room.

Perhaps⁠​‌ he did it‌ for the guest’s‍‌​ sake, but Joseph⁠​⁠ felt that the​ light he was‌ seeing wasn’t for‌‍ him.

“If‍‌‌ you answer sincerely,⁠ I’ll turn a blind eye.”

Frausen​ smiled faintly as⁠ he watched the‍‌​ candlelight.

However,⁠ Joseph couldn’t return​​‌ the smile.

Because‌⁠‍ what Frausen held⁠​‌ now was a small teacup that⁠ Joseph had been‍⁠ hiding.

Joseph​​⁠ couldn’t help but‌⁠ stiffen his expression‍⁠‍ as he stared‍‌ at the dwarf’s​‍ teacup, completely spotless‌ despite having been​‌ filled with tea‍⁠ as black as​ a wolf’s maw.⁠

***‍

Two​‍ weeks had passed‌​ since that terrible⁠‌⁠ battle.

Though​ the graves that‌‌ filled the vacant‍‍ spaces still caused​‌‍ sadness, the lush‌‌‌ fence that had‍​ replaced them was​ a great comfort‌​‍ to the elves.​‌

“Is⁠‌ your arm okay?”‌

And‍⁠ now, the green​ wooden fence of‍‍ Ausurin was visible‌‌ from Vlad’s room.⁠​

Vlad,​​ who was looking⁠ at Jager with‍‌‌ the image of⁠‌ the young World⁠⁠ Tree behind him,⁠ made a complicated⁠​‍ expression as he‌ saw the bandages‌​‌ around Jager’s arm.‍

“…The​​ arm’s fine, but​⁠⁠ now my leg​ is bothering me‍ a bit.”

There⁠⁠‍ were still white‍‍‌ bandages wrapped around​‌ Jager’s left arm,‌⁠ where Vlad’s sword​​‌ had pierced through.‌

It‍ was a serious‌‌ injury that might​ prevent him from⁠ ever wielding a sword again, but‌​ Jager seemed more⁠‍‍ bothered by the​ chains around his‍ ankles than by⁠ his limp left‌⁠⁠ arm.

“No.”⁠‌

“I‍‍ didn’t even say​‌⁠ anything.”

“Remember⁠⁠ that you’re a prisoner of war⁠⁠ now.”

For‌‌⁠ Vlad, he was‌‍ a close mentor,‍​ but to the‍‍ elves of Ausurin,​‌ Jager was nothing​⁠‍ more than a sinister man who‍‌‍ had arrived with‍​ malevolent beings.

Jager,​ now lying in⁠⁠​ bed without his⁠ eye patch, nodded​‍ as if Vlad’s‌⁠‌ words made sense.⁠

“That’s​​‌ true, I couldn’t​‍ complain if they​‍ killed me right⁠​ now.”

Seeing​ Jager laugh heartily⁠ as he said‍⁠‌ that, Vlad let‍‌‌ out a brief‌‍ sigh as if​⁠ he were exasperated.​

Jager’s​ unique ease allowed‍ him to fool‍​​ others anytime, anywhere.⁠​​

It​ was something Vlad‌​​ had always admired,‌‍ just like Jager’s‌⁠ skill with a sword.

“Now⁠​ tell me. Why‌‌ the hell did⁠​ you do it?”‌‌

“…”​⁠‌

However,‍‍‌ the atmosphere between​ the two, which⁠​ had relaxed for‍ a while, began‌ to cool once‌ again with those‍ words.

Just‌‍​ a moment ago,⁠⁠ Vlad had been‍‍ concerned about his‍‌ master’s injury, but‌‍ now Vlad’s blue‍‌⁠ eyes, as he​‌ looked at Jager,‌​‌ were filled with⁠​ resolve.

“I’m​⁠ telling you in‌‍‍ advance, this isn’t⁠⁠​ a request.”

Vlad’s⁠⁠ eyes were turning‍⁠ cold, as if⁠ this was the‍‍‍ end of the‍⁠ consideration that could⁠​​ be given out‍ of simple acknowledgment.⁠⁠

After​‍‍ seeing that, Jager​​‍ must have realized⁠⁠‌ he couldn’t hide⁠ it anymore, so​‌ he closed his​‍ remaining eye.

“I’m‌ sorry.”

“An‍ apology is fine.⁠‍⁠ Where is that​‌​ woman in black​​‌ now?”

Squeak-‌⁠

A sharp sound came‍⁠‌ from the chair‌ Vlad had pulled⁠ closer.

The⁠⁠ sound that pierced‌​​ Jager’s ears also⁠​​ showed Vlad’s determination‍ not to back‍​‍ down easily from‌‌ this position.

“That‍ woman has killed⁠‌‌ more than a hundred people, just⁠‌⁠ among the ones‍ I know. If‍‌ we count those⁠ I don’t know‌ about, the number​​⁠ might exceed a thousand.”

“…”‌​⁠

“What⁠⁠ makes her a true bitch is‍⁠​ that she only​‌ kills the weakest,‍​ like children. If‌⁠‌ it were just‍‌ regular warfare, killing‍ indiscriminately, it wouldn’t‌ have bothered me‍​ so much.”

Vlad⁠ had never considered​‌ himself a righteous‌‍ person.

However,​‍ he firmly believed‍​‌ there were lines‍ all people should⁠⁠ follow.

The​⁠⁠ reason Vlad had​ been able to‌‌ avoid losing himself⁠⁠ in those alleyways​‌ that felt like‍‍​ sewers was because‌ he had fiercely​ maintained a minimum‍ level of conscience‌‌ all along.

“…So,‍⁠‍ where is that​‌ bitch now?”

And‍​ now, Vlad was‍​ sitting here, trying⁠ to uphold the⁠‌‌ line he had‍​⁠ drawn.

Vlad’s‌ determination to repay‍ all that he⁠ had received and‍‍‍ to take care‍‍ of what he⁠‍​ owed was as‌​‍ firm as the⁠​ solid wooden fence‍ visible outside.

“I‌ don’t know where‌​‍ she is.”

“Jager.”‌‍

“That‌⁠ bitch you’re talking​ about doesn’t belong​⁠ to ‘any place.’”‌‌

Jager,‌‌ who had noticed‌‍ Vlad’s determination, had‌ no choice but⁠⁠​ to tell him.‍​

Though⁠ it was a bit earlier than​⁠‍ expected, Vlad was‌ fully prepared to​‌ know the truth.‌‍​

“Ramashthu‍​ is a woman⁠‌ who lives in​​ memories. I’m not‌⁠ a sorcerer, so‌‍ I don’t know‍‌‍ for sure, but​ at the very‌​⁠ least, she’s not‌‌ walking on this⁠‍‍ earth.”

The‌ woman known as​⁠⁠ Ramashthu, as Jager‌ recognized her, did⁠​‌ not exist in‌‍ reality.

She‍ was merely an⁠ existence settled in‍‍ an illusion that‍ swelled like a bubble and occasionally‍ rose like a nightmare.

“But‌ I can point⁠‌ you to some​ places that might‍ lead you to⁠ her. Though I’m‌​​ not sure if​‍⁠ they still work.”‌⁠

However,​ her dark bubble,‍‌‌ which should have​⁠ been eliminated long​‍ ago by those⁠ responsible, was already​‌⁠ overflowing to the​‌‌ point of threatening⁠‍ reality.

“Point​‌ them out.”

Jager‍​​ raised his healthy⁠ right arm toward​ Vlad, who was⁠‍ calmly lifting the​‍‍ map.

His​⁠‌ hands trembled as‌​‍ he marked the​ map, one place​ after another, but​​ neither Vlad, who​⁠​ sought an answer,‌‍ nor Jager, who‍​​ spoke the truth,⁠ said a word.‍⁠

“Why​ don’t you ask?”‍

“About‍​⁠ what?”

“About‌​‌ Lord Joseph.”

Jager,‍‌‌ who had marked⁠‌​ the last place‌⁠‍ he knew, spoke‌‍ with his dry​‌⁠ lips, but Vlad’s‍‍ response was not⁠‍ heard for a long time.

“I’ll​​ ask him in⁠ person.”

“…Alright.”‍​⁠

Jager‌⁠​ was about to‍‌ pass along Joseph’s‌‌‍ final message, but‌ decided not to‍ after hearing Vlad’s‌⁠⁠ response.

He‍ believed there would‌⁠‌ be no need⁠ for an intermediary‌‌⁠ between the two,​ who would soon​ meet face to⁠⁠​ face.

***‍‍

“Lord‍​ Peter. There’s a report.”

In⁠​ an office in‍‌‍ Sturma, a city⁠‍ where the winter’s​‍ chill still lingered.‍‌‍

In⁠‍​ a place where‌‌ there were as⁠‍‍ many books on⁠‌‌ the shelves as​ there were swords,⁠‌​ Advisor Ragmus approached⁠ Peter with several⁠‍‌ pieces of paper.⁠‍‍

“It​⁠‌ is said that⁠‍‌ the Gaidar family​⁠ is moving north,​‍ towards the Western⁠⁠‍ Gate.”

“…”‍‍

Peter,⁠⁠ who had been​‍⁠ reviewing documents for​‍ a while, raised‍‍ his eyebrows at​ Ragmus’ words.

The​‍ Gaidar family of​‍⁠ the west had⁠‌ returned after suffering⁠‌​ a heavy blow⁠ in the giant​ hall of Deirmar‌ a few years‍ ago.

But​​ now, as if​‌ they had recovered​ from the damage,‌ they were once‌​​ again rising up,​ trying to remove⁠‌ the northern shield​⁠ that blocked the⁠​‌ canyon.

“They’re‍‍‌ moving faster than‍‍⁠ expected.”

“It‍⁠‍ seems there’s support⁠⁠ from the Golden​​‍ Duke.”

To​​​ be precise, it‍​‌ may have been‍‍ the intention of⁠ the Dragon Blood‌⁠‍ Duke.

Seeing‌⁠‍ the Gaidar army‍⁠ advancing northward, along‌‌ with the central⁠⁠ army marching from‍ the heartland, was‍⁠‌ clearly a smart​‌‍ move—one that would‌​ have been difficult‌ to execute without‍‌ someone pulling the‍‍⁠ strings from behind.​‌

“Defending⁠‍ up to that​ point would stretch‍​‌ our lines too‍ thin. We must‌ pull back.”

“How​⁠​ far do you⁠‍ want us to⁠​ retreat our forces?”​‌

Although‍‍​ the Northern Alliance’s​ Olympic Fortress was‌‌ a stronghold for‍ the seven northern⁠⁠ families, it wouldn’t⁠‌‍ be enough to​ block the forces​‌ of both the⁠ Golden Duke and⁠ Gaidar at the‌⁠‍ same time.

Peter,​ who had full‍⁠​ authority over the⁠​ fortress, decided to‍​⁠ retreat in order‍ to consolidate their​‌ defenses.

“To‍‌‌ Deirmar.”

Peter,‍ who had been​⁠ studying the map​​​ for a while,‍‌ picked up the‍‌‍ pen he was‌‍‌ holding and began​​⁠ marking the location⁠ of Deirmar.

Though‍ Deirmar was a small city, it‍​ was a suitable‍‌ gathering point for‍ the northern families‌ to establish their​‌ base and was​ also close to‍‌⁠ their own city,​ Soara.

“…And,⁠⁠ Lord Peter.”

“Yes?”​⁠⁠

“This‌ is the report​‍​ from Lord Joseph.”⁠⁠

Though‍​ Peter was focused‌‌‍ on the imminent‍ threat, his expression‌⁠ softened at the‍⁠‍ mention of a note from Joseph,⁠‌​ handed to him​⁠ by Ragmus.

“…It’s‌‌ been a while‌⁠ since we’ve had‍‍ any news from⁠ him.”

“It’s‍⁠ an important report.”​

Though‌‌ carefully folded, the‍⁠ paper on which⁠ the report was⁠‍⁠ written was badly⁠⁠ worn, as if​ it had been​ hastily prepared.

As​ Peter unfolded the‍ note, he recalled​​​ his son’s hand⁠‌‍ desperately clutching the‍‌ paper, and a complex mix of‌‌⁠ emotions crossed his⁠ face.

“He’s‌⁠ done his best.”​‍‌

“Yes.”​‌

In​⁠ the middle of​‌ the unfolded note‍​ was his son’s‍ familiar handwriting.

Though⁠‍ the writing was‍⁠ smudged compared to​ before, it was⁠​ still readable, as​​​ it was his‌‍ son’s blood.

“Prepare⁠ a message. Ragmus,​⁠ we need to‌‌​ inform the Iron‍⁠ Duke and the‍⁠ Northern Church.”

After⁠‍‍ reading the note,‍‌ Peter closely examined‍ the map he⁠‍ had just been​ studying and picked‌ up a pen.‍

“Wouldn’t⁠‌‍ it be better⁠⁠⁠ to inform the⁠ Court Duke as​‍ well?”

“The‌‍ Iron Duke will‌​‌ inform him. We⁠‍ shouldn’t send too‌ many messages from⁠ our position.”

Even​ in the face‍‍ of the telegram‍ sent by his‍ troubled son, Peter⁠‌ didn’t show the​⁠ slightest hesitation.

He​​ simply made a sensible decision, fulfilling‍​⁠ his role as⁠ lord and commander.‍​⁠

“I’m‍‌ revoking my previous⁠​⁠ order. We will‌‍ withdraw the Northern⁠ Alliance soldiers to‌ Soara.”

With⁠⁠‍ those words, Peter⁠ began drawing a bold cross over​ the mark of‍ Deirmar.

From‌‍‌ Deirmar, they would​⁠​ retreat to Soara.‌⁠

Advisor⁠‌​ Ragmus nodded gravely⁠⁠‍ as he watched​​ Peter, who had​‍ drawn the defensive​⁠‌ line that needed​⁠​ to be fortified​‌ as much as‍ possible.

“Understood,⁠​ Count.”

Peter‍​ stood in silence,‌ watching Ragmus exit⁠ the office with‍⁠ those words.

Carefully,‌​‌ he reopened Joseph’s​‍ note and, after‌⁠ pondering for a moment, went to‍​ the bookshelf, where⁠⁠‌ he pulled out⁠​ a small book‌‍‌ and delicately placed⁠‍‍ the note between‍‍ its pages.

“…I’m⁠ proud of you,⁠ Joseph.”

On​⁠‍ the cover of‍ the book that‌⁠‌ Peter had taken‌‌ out was a colorful drawing, likely​​‌ meant to appeal‍⁠ only to children.⁠‌⁠

It⁠ was an old​ children’s storybook, one⁠⁠‌ that had been​⁠⁠ his youngest son‍​ Joseph’s favorite during‌​⁠ his childhood. On⁠ the worn cover,​‍ a knight could‍⁠ be seen charging‍ valiantly at a great dragon.

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