Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Magnet Branch (1)
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A splintered table lay scattered about, food spilled across the floor.
The lavishly decorated banquet hall looked as if a typhoon had swept through it, leaving utter devastation in its wake.
And among the wreckage, corpses strewn everywhere.
The red blood pooling from their bodies soaked the floor.
I stood at the center, my sword hanging loosely at my side.
Blood trickles ran down the blade, gathering at the tip before dripping to the floor.
Drip. Drip.
In the deathly silence, only the sound of falling blood droplets echoed through the hall.
I shook the blood from the blade and sheathed my sword.
Clack.
The hall remained utterly still.
No one lived except me.
I turned away from Histron's corpse, sprawled dead with eyes wide in disbelief.
Bodies littered the floor at my feet, men who had died without knowing why.
I stepped over them, unlatched the firmly locked bolt, and shoved open the only entrance to this place with both hands.
Rumble.
The widely opened door began to close behind my footsteps.
The scene of the massacre was completely swallowed as the gap narrowed.
Thud!
The door shut.
I strolled through the expansive garden.
As I had demanded, no one was nearby.
The cool night air brushed my lungs.
Having wiped out every last one of them, the freshness was particularly invigorating.
Slipping out of the merchant compound under cover of thick darkness, I headed to the rendezvous point with my companions.
"We've safely sent everyone off."
Allen and Iriel, having completed their mission, were already waiting at the promised spot.
While I was cutting them down, Allen and Iriel had returned the conscripted Francia citizens to their hometowns.
The operation we had prepared over the past five days.
No failures.
With mercenaries assigned by region, they should make it home safely.
The mercenaries would ensure no trails led back to us.
The ones who contacted the mercenary guild were the hairy brute, Rat-like Guy, and Flounder-like Guy.
Everything had been carried out using the Wiruan Merchant Group as a front.
But they had all died by my hand.
Of course, the Governor-General's office would assume it was the work of the Independence Army.
But they wouldn't pinpoint the culprits.
Histron had thoroughly hidden us all that time.
'He certainly did his job well.'
I readily acknowledged his contributions. Rewarding his efforts with death, he should be content even in the afterlife.
"Did you cry?"
I looked at Allen, who was uncharacteristically silent. His eyes were puffy like they had been squeezed, still glistening with moisture.
"There's no telling when we'll meet again..."
Allen said in a voice thick with emotion.
He looked half-dead.
"He didn't even promise marriage. Said he didn't know when he'd return. What a nice guy he turned out to be."
Iriel pouted.
She pretended to disapprove of Allen's choice for Daisy's sake, but it was just her way of comforting him.
I looked at him.
"You managed not to follow her. From the way you were acting, I figured you'd ditch us all and go."
If he parted with Daisy like this, there might not be a next time.
Life in the Independence Army meant death could come at any moment without surprise.
In the end, he chose life as an Independence fighter over life as a family man.
Allen gave a bitter smile.
"You're one to talk, Jenes-nim. My place is by your side. Were you jealous all this time, by any chance?"
Trying to lighten the mood with a joke, he got a sharp flick on the forehead from me.
Crack!
"Argh!"
"Cut the nonsense. Pull yourself together."
"Don't worry. It won't make me weak."
Saying that with a face that looked ready to die.
Of course, I wasn't actually worried.
"Do you know what my dream is?"
Allen spoke with unusual resolve.
His eyes shone clearly between the swollen lids.
He steeled himself as he spoke.
His gaze was on me, but also on his wavering self.
"My dream right now is Francia's independence. That's it. Short-term dreams like loving someone and building a family? Those can wait until after that one comes true."
He wiped under his nose and continued.
"I'll follow you to see this story through to the end, Jenes-nim. As long as I don't die, I can witness the ending I've longed for. Building a home with Daisy—that's like the epilogue. After everything's done, living happily ever after."
The night breeze swept between us.
"I could send Daisy away because I believe in you, Jenes-nim."
It was along the same lines as what he always said.
That damn story obsession of his.
"So I'll stick right by your side until I see Francia's full independence!"
To his determination, I replied indifferently.
"Do what you want."
For a moment, his tearful face broke into a bright smile.
As if he had shed all his worries.
I gazed at him steadily.
A sudden curiosity struck me.
What did this country mean to him?
I, the former crown prince of my previous life, felt responsible for its fall and walked this path.
But what drove him to stake his life on independence so desperately?
So I asked.
"Why do you want independence? What is this country to you?"
Allen looked at me as if it were an odd question.
"It's the country where I was born and raised. Where the people I love lived. It held my daily life, my future. What grand reason do I need for wanting independence? I just want the people I love—and my future children—to live happily here without oppression. It's a slim chance, and some might say it means nothing."
He spoke fluidly, as if he had thought about it for a long time.
Listening to him, I felt it.
"But someone has to fight back against those who took our country and our daily lives."
Whether me, the former crown prince, or him, a citizen.
Our feelings for this country were no different.
Francia held the people we loved back then, the daily lives we let slip away without cherishing, and the futures we thought would shine.
The pictures might differ, but the meaning they held was the same.
We were all fighting for our own Francia.
"Then let's head this way!"
He said with a lighthearted expression.
His steps looked endlessly free.
As if his thoughts had solidified while speaking to me.
Iriel clung to his side, playfully punching his arm with her small fists.
"Ow! What the hell? Why are you hitting me all of a sudden?"
"Because you were kinda cool just now! A man who puts off love for his country's independence. Not my type, but from the sidelines? Totally cool!"
"What, this little thing? Hahaha!"
Allen danced at Iriel's praise.
Cool for that?
Nothing cool about it.
I wondered what kind of guy she'd end up with.
Thanks to Allen's story talk, I suddenly grew curious about our epilogue.
At the end of this path, would I be living the life I desired?
* * *
"I wonder what he's like."
Yuria's eyes sparkled like stars, her hands clasped in anticipation.
"For some reason, I imagine a dignified old gentleman."
She pictured a gray-haired old man in a black suit, the White Lion she would soon meet. Ion nodded in agreement.
"Definitely someone with a mature charisma."
"He might not look any different from the branch chief at first glance."
Fitzma chimed in.
Their images varied, but they all agreed the White Lion would be an elderly man with graying hair.
That was the aura of the Sword Master realm.
Yuria puffed her cheeks and shouted.
"He can't look like Grandpa!"
"That's what I think too."
Ion agreed with Yuria again. Harab, who had been quietly sitting, exploded in anger at getting dragged in.
"What the hell's wrong with me! I was quite the looker in my youth, you brats!"
"Hah, my heart's already pounding like crazy?"
Pogret clutched his chest, ignoring Harab's protest.
He had seen countless imperial knights departing from the capital during his stay. Even their pressure had choked him.
A Sword Master could cut them down in one stroke.
He couldn't even imagine facing one.
"Damn brats."
Harab grumbled, unlike the expectant eyes around him.
"Anyway, when's he coming?"
Yuria had been staring impatiently at the silent entrance.
Today was the day the White Lion was supposed to arrive.
She had spent the whole day sweating while polishing his room.
That's when the knock came.
Knock knock.
Everyone jumped, bodies tensing. Yuria sprang up first and bolted to the entrance.
"I'll get it!"
Her voice trailed off behind her.
So urgent that her actions outpaced her words.
The rest slumped awkwardly back into their seats from half-standing positions.
Then, moments later.
The door to the room opened, and Yuria entered with a somber expression, followed by three people.
One was an unfamiliar companion.
An exotic yet handsome young man, noble-like in bearing.
An air of high nobility emanated from him.
But no White Lion.
It seemed he hadn't come.
Harab, recovering first, guided them to seats.
"There's a new companion too. Sit here. The White Lion didn't come today either, I take it."
"Huh?"
Allen and Iriel tilted their heads at Harab's question. Realizing the misunderstanding, they grinned broadly.
Allen pointed at Jenes.
"This is the renowned White Lion."
"What?!"
The shocked group turned to Jenes in unison. With eyes and mouths agape, they froze like statues.
Even Harab, who had kept his composure, couldn't hide his agitation this time.
"This guy's the White Lion? The one who single-handedly crushed the Prairie Wild Dogs and the Royal Knights?"
"Yes."
Iriel nodded vigorously.
"Huh, I heard he was a Sword Master..."
Harab leaned back on the sofa, drained, staring at the strikingly young Jenes.
It was hard to believe even seeing it.
A Sword Master was the pinnacle of the sword.
Only four had reached that realm across the continent.
And one was this young man.
Unbelievable.
"Is there a problem?"
Jenes's dry voice swept the room, snapping Harab back. He hurriedly spoke.
"Ah, sorry. I'm Harab, chief of the Magnet branch."
"I told you. He's the one who looked after my brother and me when we were young."
At Iriel's explanation, Jenes nodded in greeting. He eyed Harab with a peculiar gaze.
The branch members introduced themselves one by one after that.
Yuria, Ion, Fitzma, Pogret.
They could barely close their mouths while introducing themselves.
Their souls still hadn't returned from shock.
"You must be tired from the long journey. Rest easy today. Rooms are all prepared—use them freely."
Jenes bowed his head politely. Allen and Iriel stared at him as if seeing him anew, unaccustomed to such courtesy.
As Jenes turned to leave indifferently, Harab grabbed him urgently.
"Ah! Mind if I ask why you've come to the capital? Knowing that would let us outline some ways to help."
He hadn't asked in detail last time, caught up in reuniting with Iriel.
Jenes said.
"I intend to take Halent's head."
"What?!"
Harab's vision blackened for a moment, his heart plummeting in dizzying shock.
So startled he felt like he had brushed death's door.