Chapter 289: Side Story – The Song of the Forgotten (1)

Gray rain had covered the skies of Sturma since early morning.

Despite it being summer, the rain of the North held no warmth and struck the black stones of the wall like sharpened needles.

“Since this morning, I already feel depressed.”

In the meeting hall, where only the sound of rain striking the windows could be heard, Rutiger Bayezid reclined in his chair, silently observing the gloomy landscape.

“Even so, work must continue. Begin your reports.”

A map of the North lay spread across the long table.

In times of war, it would have been a strategic map, but in that era of peace it was little more than decoration.

“Yes, Count. I’ll begin with Soara.”

It was the Bayezid family’s regular reporting meeting, held twice a year.

Mayors, vassals, knights, and merchants acting on behalf of the family were present.

As Rutiger listened to their reports, his brow gradually furrowed.

“…Lately there have been occasions when magical telegrams did not function properly. According to the mages in charge, there is no problem with the magical artifacts.”

Upon hearing the report from the mayor of Varna, Jager discreetly turned his head toward Ramund.

The old man was sitting alone in a corner.

Jager did not know exactly what he was thinking about so deeply, but he still remembered Ramund indignantly insisting that he had indeed sent a telegram.

“I am Portly Kannor, of the Kannor family. I have a report for you, Count.”

After administrative matters came the merchants’ turn.

And it was precisely during the reports from those operating in the central region that a peculiar piece of news emerged.

“It seems that in several territories of the Center, a kind of restoration movement is beginning to appear.”

“A restoration movement?”

Rutiger frowned as he looked at Portly.

Rutiger was a man who hated beating around the bush.

Portly knew that well, but he still needed a few seconds to prepare himself.

“Of Sarnus… more precisely, of the Dragulia family.”

Because mentioning that forbidden name required a certain amount of courage.

“What the hell is this?”

“It seems those people still haven’t suffered enough.”

“Seriously, of all the lunatics that exist, how can they admire someone like Sarnus?”

Just as Portly had expected, the moment the name of the man known as the Dragon Blood Duke was mentioned, the room began to stir.

“It all began in territories that formerly maintained close ties with the Dragon Blood Duke. I suppose they are regions that became marginalized because of the sins of the past and where resentment has accumulated for a long time.”

Rutiger let out an incredulous laugh and shook his head.

It really has been a long time.

How is it possible that, no matter how hungry they are, they end up feeding on the corpse of someone like Sarnus?

“Now that we know about it, we’ll have to keep an eye on it. You’re going to have a lot of work ahead of you, Portly. Stay alert to those movements.”

“Understood, Count.”

The meeting, which had begun in the morning, continued until noon.

The sun remained hidden behind dark clouds, but the hunger twisting their stomachs clearly indicated that it was time for a break.

“Very well. We’ll conclude today’s meeting here. Thank you all for coming this far.”

Rutiger shook hands with his vassals with a smile and told them to get some rest.

Then he made his way back to his office.

“Dorothea, what exactly is going on with the magical telegrams?”

Now he moved only in the company of people he truly trusted.

In a way, the real meeting for Rutiger began at that moment.

“It isn’t the fault of our magical artifacts.”

“Then what is it?”

Rutiger dropped into the chair in his office and loosened the collar of his shirt.

“…When we contacted Dobrechi regarding the spirit mole, there were also occasional interruptions in communication. The mages there say it has been happening frequently lately.”

“Oh, really?”

According to Dorothea, the phenomenon became more common the farther north a region was located.

It was probably not a technical issue but something interfering with magical telegrams.

“Perhaps that is exactly why Vlad went to the North Pole. If the observations are correct and the black moon is truly approaching, it may already be affecting communications.”

For the past twenty years, the black moon had been the primary concern of mages.

Although it had been born from sinister dark magic, some mages even described it as the starting point of the world’s creation magic.

Its importance was extraordinary.

“Then we have no way to counter it. Will we have to go back to using carrier pigeons like in the old days?”

That was far outside the domain of a knight like Rutiger.

There was another matter that interested him much more.

“Good. Marcus, have you discovered anything about the bloodstained ducat?”

The blood-covered coin the mole had brought.

Who was its owner?

Where had it come from?

And why had it ended up reaching Sturma?

Those questions had never left Rutiger’s mind since then.

“Yes. We have obtained some results, Count.”

And there was the crow who had brought the answer.

“I deployed my crows to investigate mainly the whereabouts of retired knights. And, just as you suspected, the situation is concerning.”

He was a man difficult to place between middle age and old age.

The numerous scars on his face made it impossible to determine his exact age, although he appeared to be Jager’s contemporary.

“After investigating the Bayezid territories and the entire North, we found the bodies of several knights who had walked the Lowest Path.”

The bodies of retired knights.

Rutiger’s face darkened instantly.

“…Could it be…?”

“Fortunately, none of them belong to the former Count. Furthermore, his last known trail was in the West.”

Upon hearing that it was not his father’s body, Rutiger released a sigh of relief without trying to hide it.

“Did they die in accidents?”

“No.”

“Were they murdered?”

Marcus slowly nodded.

“They must have been difficult men to kill…”

They were knights distinguished enough to receive a Ducat of Honor.

And they had also been fortunate enough to live long enough to retire.

For several of them to turn up dead was an ominous sign.

“We cannot ignore this.”

Communications were beginning to fail.

The ghosts of the past were resurfacing.

The black moon was drawing closer.

And retired knights were being murdered.

“…I don’t like this at all.”

Before a great catastrophe occurred, bad omens usually appeared one after another.

And those who carried responsibilities had to be especially sensitive to such signs.

“Very well. We will maintain a state of alert for a while.”

Recall the knights currently on missions.

Inspect the soldiers.

Prepare carrier pigeons and relay horses in case the magical telegrams stop working.

Inform the mayors and neighboring territories.

And if the situation is as concerning as it appears, send the crows even farther.

“And furthermore…”

There was still one final matter to review.

“Is something wrong, Sir Ramund?”

Ramund remained seated in silence, waiting for his turn.

Upon hearing the question, he seemed to come back to himself and looked up at Rutiger.

“Lately, Emil has been acting strangely…”

***

A cold breeze mixed with the scent of rain swept over the railing.

The sky above Sturma was covered by dense dark clouds.

The light was so dim that even the faces of the passing servants looked gloomy, but in the squires’ dormitory, the cheerful voices of the boys still echoed with energy.

“This is wonderful. We even got out of training.”

The squires of Sturma were gathered on the benches along the corridor overlooking the training grounds.

Normally, they would have been rolling around endlessly in the field before them, but today was different.

“You seem to be in a good mood, Hampton.”

“Yes. My dad came today.”

Because in a few days, the welcome banquet for the squires personally hosted by the Count would take place.

It was one of Sturma’s most famous traditions.

And in addition, the next day they would have one of their rare opportunities to go outside.

There was no way the boys would not be excited.

“I’ll finally be able to restock my sausages.”

“…You really never change.”

Hampton and Tarenian were already arguing as if they had known each other for years.

However, Emil, who was sitting beside them, seemed distracted.

“Emil, didn’t anyone come to see you? You live nearby too, don’t you?”

Tarenian asked in an upbeat voice.

Although he himself had no one who had come to visit him from the distant South, he seemed to have been swept up by the atmosphere.

“No. No one came for me either.”

“Why? Is everyone busy?”

The son of a Swordmaster with no visitors.

That seemed strange.

But upon hearing the answer, Tarenian could only nod.

“My father is at the North Pole, and my mother is busy.”

“Ah, I see.”

Ah, he’s at the North Pole.

That’s much farther away than anything I could boast about.

“But my dad did come. So we won’t have any problems going out tomorrow.”

“Of course. Besides, you have Sir Ramund. Anyway, there aren’t many boys whose parents come in person.”

Emil nodded.

The truth was that he did not particularly miss his parents.

After all, the Bayezid manor was practically his home.

He had simply remembered for a moment that, two years earlier, when his sister had been there, he had come together with his father.

“The truth is, I passed through Soara when I came here, but I never got to see Sturma. I’m really looking forward to going out tomorrow.”

[Run away tomorrow.]

“…!”

A male voice suddenly slipped into the conversation.

That voice infiltrated it like a shadow.

Emil’s hair immediately stood on end.

“…What did you just say?”

Tarenian was left speechless when he saw the look in Emil’s eyes.

Those blue eyes carried a strange pressure.

Startled, he answered with a stutter.

“I-I said I wanted to look for some Sturma collectibles. Why? Did I say something weird?”

Perhaps he was annoyed at having felt intimidated by someone his own age, because his voice rose.

But Emil remained there, motionless, with a frown on his face.

‘Is it because I’m sleeping badly?’

The truth was that he had not been able to rest properly for several days.

Everything had started after training with Ramund.

Every time he tried to sleep, memories from his childhood returned.

Memories so old that he could not even recognize them.

‘And my chest feels heavy.’

Like the sky covered by storm clouds.

Emil looked up at the sky.

Even through the clouds, the silhouette of the black moon could be vaguely seen.

“My lady, please wait. You can’t go that way.”

“Knights, clear the path!”

Suddenly, a commotion arose at the far end of the corridor.

The squires turned their heads.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Who could it be?”

In the distance, a procession of maids was approaching.

It seemed they were accompanying someone important.

Some of the more observant squires quickly stood up and bowed their heads respectfully.

“My lady, please come back. This is the area where the squires stay.”

But the elderly woman ignored the maids’ insistence.

She was an older lady dressed elegantly.

Her white hair, carefully braided, was especially striking.

And among the silver strands, traces of green hair could still be seen, a sign that in her youth her hair had been a vivid green color.

“No, no. I’m sure I saw him come this way…”

However, her eyes seemed unfocused.

As if she were looking at a place far away instead of the present.

“Ah! There he is!”

After looking around for quite some time, the old woman smiled brightly.

She had found the blond hair she was looking for.

“G-good morning, my lady. My name is…”

Seeing her approach, Emil bowed his head according to the etiquette he had been taught.

Although the situation caught him by surprise, he acted naturally.

“Vlad.”

But the old woman’s words made him stop.

A woman calling him by his father’s name.

“Have you seen my Joseph, Vlad?”

“…”

Emil slowly raised his head.

“I’m sure I saw him walk this way, but when I arrived, he was already gone.”

The woman smiled with immense gentleness.

For some reason, she reminded him of his mother.

“If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to see him.”

However, even though she was standing in front of Emil, she was not really seeing him.

“Vlad, it seems you’ve gained a little weight since the last time.”

Her eyes were looking at someone else.

“That’s much better. Before, you were nothing but skin and bones.”

The former matriarch of the Bayezid family.

The great lady Oksana.

She remained alone in the past, conversing with that blond boy from another era.