Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: The Burning Flames (2)
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The next day.
We gathered in front of the branch to leave the capital.
Harab and the others saw us off with reluctant expressions.
"You're leaving without resting a bit longer..."
I shook my head at Harab's words.
"There are still things I need to take care of."
"You're not just busy—you're swamped."
Everyone now knew that Ben Halrent was a fake.
They also knew we had to go hunt down the real Halrent.
I wasn't sure if Halrent was still at Small Sea, but we needed to reach Porsen Port as quickly as possible.
If we took the tributary of the Hargan River partway, we could make it in three weeks.
"Take care from here on out."
He clasped my hand tightly as he spoke.
I nodded.
Harab patted my shoulder and turned to Iriel.
"Miss, always take good care of yourself."
"Yes. Don't worry. You take care of your health too, Harab."
"Of course. I'll live to see the day of liberation with my own two eyes. No need to worry."
Harab grinned as he said it.
While they exchanged farewells, Yuria approached me hesitantly.
"...This is a gift for you!"
She twisted her body shyly and held out a bracelet.
"It's better than the lucky bracelet I gave you last time. It seemed to break during the fight, so I made a new one."
It was a bracelet woven from colorful threads. It was definitely more vibrant than before. I took it and put it on my wrist. Her eyes were so desperate, like she might die if I refused, so I had no choice.
"Thank you!"
Yuria smiled more brightly than ever.
But why do you have the exact same one on your wrist?
She had the identical bracelet on her own wrist, peeking out from under her sleeve. It couldn't fool my eyes.
I just pretended not to notice and accepted it.
I had enough magnanimity to indulge a sixteen-year-old girl's sentiments.
I'd take it off right away anyway.
The others, having said their goodbyes to Allen, came over to say a word or two to me.
A bunch of burly guys with emotional faces coming at me made me want to punch each one.
"Let's go."
I brushed them off roughly and turned away.
Allen and Iriel waved to them on my behalf until the end.
And so, we set off to leave the capital.
"It's quiet."
Allen remarked as we walked down the main street.
The streets were bustling as usual, but that wasn't what he meant.
Even after last night's events, the Governor's Office had its doors bolted shut, taking no action whatsoever.
On the surface, Magnet looked no different from before.
Except for the strange fervor underlying the citizens' expressions and the tense faces of the military police.
"They probably don't have any good options either."
Iriel said it teasingly, flashing a broad smile.
What could they do?
Five city gates breached by a single White Lion, the Special Task Force Steel Wall annihilated, and even Governor Halrent Barren's head severed.
They had no immediate moves to make.
Just hunker down behind locked doors at the Governor's Office and pretend nothing happened.
Requesting reinforcements from the Empire would be the next step.
Thanks to that, security wasn't tight.
We passed through the gates easily, mounted our horses, and rode off.
Thud thud thud thud!
As the horses' hooves pounded the ground noisily, the capital's sturdy outer walls gradually receded into the distance.
* * *
Two weeks had passed since the White Lion breached the Governor's Office.
The news that even Governor Halrent had his head cut off spread faster than anything across Francia.
A blazing fire of fervent longing ignited across the entire kingdom.
Halrent had just received word of it himself.
'They even breached the Governor's Office in the end.'
He had anticipated it ever since they broke through the trap he had set and escaped.
That the guy would come for his neck at the Governor's Office.
So, no particular shock.
But infuriation was another matter.
He thought beheading the fake would satisfy him, but no—to hang the Francia flag at the Governor's Office.
Utterly crossing the line.
But he paid it no mind.
Everything would be set right with his appearance.
And that guy.
'I wonder if he realized the one he beheaded was a fake.'
That he was a fake was a fact known only to himself and the fake.
Not even his closest aides knew.
They might have sensed something off, but never suspected he was a fake.
Still, he was uneasy, unable to predict how the fake reacted in the face of death.
He had placed restrictions, but if the White Lion knew him, he might not have been fooled.
'I was hoping he'd think he killed me.'
That way, the satisfaction of bringing him to his knees would be all the greater.
Then, a grating voice interrupted his thoughts.
"That damn bastard. This face I poured my heart into crafting."
Halrent turned to see a ragged old man whose face was little more than a skull. He wore luxurious velvet robes, but they couldn't hide that wretched visage.
If anything, it only made him more grotesque.
He continued.
"Anyway, must sting losing such a useful puppet. Heh heh heh."
"It's a shame."
"That guy's probably strutting around triumphantly right now, huh?"
"Let him enjoy his moment of victory."
"Keh heh heh. Quite the composed attitude."
"He'll kneel before me anyway."
"Really? But have you ever let anyone claim even a momentary victory over you?"
Halrent didn't answer Dr. Jurha's question.
Because he was right.
He had never once been defeated.
Francia had always been in the palm of his hand.
But ever since the White Lion appeared, his plans kept going awry.
After a brief silence, Halrent spoke.
"I hear you've lost two clones."
"That damn punk."
Jurha's skull trembled with rage.
"When I see him, I'll tear him limb from limb."
Fierce flames of fury blazed in his hollow eye sockets.
Jurha's clones weren't mere fakes like his own.
He had lost not just what they carried, but the experiences they had independently accumulated.
It must have hit him as hard as losing fingers from his own hand.
Halrent spoke again.
"Still, his strength is hard to gauge precisely. He breached five gates of the Governor's Office single-handedly. Even with the Special Task Force Steel Wall there. What he accomplished isn't something even a Sword Master could do lightly."
A Sword Master's power wasn't invincible.
He must have felt physical strain breaking through the gates.
Yet the White Lion still pierced the Governor's Office's sturdiest defense, the Steel Wall.
But Jurha remained nonchalant.
"A punk like that? No match for me. Keh heh heh heh."
Jurha didn't even bother assessing the opponent's strength.
Such confidence.
Ignoring him, Halrent got to the point.
"He doesn't have some special ability, does he?"
"Can't rule it out entirely. His appearance was so out of nowhere."
Jurha had been staying in Francia, conducting human experiments, so he knew the political situation well.
The White Lion's emergence was truly sudden.
Slim chance, but perhaps some power they didn't know about.
Jurha said,
"I'm heading to the Barrein estate now to finish up. I'll leave a clone behind, so handle things here yourself."
"Got it."
Halrent nodded.
The ritual was nearing its end now too.
'And so.'
Halrent gazed at the altar towering in the distance.
'Enjoy your fleeting victory to your heart's content.'
* * *
At the back gate of the Palette Merchant Group.
Lucian and the White Lion independence fighters from the north had gathered.
"Captain, take care."
At Hartwen's words, Lucian smiled faintly.
"Yes. Everyone, keep up the good work."
"It's you two doing the heavy lifting. What can we do? Still, now that you're leaving, it finally feels real."
Hwarenca said with eyes full of emotion.
They had come to see off Lucian and Lake.
Lucian replied,
"Yeah. It's sinking in for me too now."
It had been over two months since parting with Jenes, Iriel, and Allen here.
The season had passed the cool early spring toward the warm end of spring.
Not even a full season had gone by, but in that short time, Francia's situation had changed dramatically.
Enough to warrant full-scale action.
"Well then, we're off."
Lucian and Lake departed down the road.
Hartwen and Hwarenca watched their retreating figures for a long while.
"It's been ages since we left headquarters."
As the merchant group faded from view, Lucian spoke while looking back.
"Three years since we've been away this long."
Lucian chuckled dryly at Lake's emotionless tone.
"We really took it easy, huh."
"We were busy."
Lake retorted.
They hadn't moved around much, but they'd been busy the whole time.
From the moment he first met Lucian up to now—an eight-year relentless grind without letting up.
That's how the northern White Lion reached its current position.
Even though it was the last of Francia's four divided independence forces to form, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the others attested to their efforts.
Lucian said,
"It went faster than expected."
"Thanks to good fortune."
"Yeah."
Lucian readily agreed.
The good fortune Lake mentioned was his connection to Jenes.
Without him, it really would have taken much longer.
Lucian continued,
"You and he—connections beyond what I deserve."
"No. Only because it's you, Lucian."
"Glad you think so."
"The country you want, Lucian."
Lake looked at him.
"You'll get it."
"Yeah. Somehow, I feel like I will."
Lucian nodded confidently.
Under him were the strongest sword and the finest strategist. Even led by a child, they could achieve Francia's independence—it was obvious.
But he wasn't a child.
He would use their strength to forge a great kingdom.
"Alright, shall we ride?"
Before them now stretched a vast plain.
The same plain Jenes and his group had once galloped across.
Their powerful strides began overlapping it.
As he rode the plain, Lucian thought of Iriel.
'I wonder if she's doing well.'
When he left, those two were itching to devour Jenes. Who knows how they're getting along.
How long had they raced across the endless wilderness?
Before long, they faced majestic mountains rippling like waves.
"Francia."
Lucian murmured softly at the sight.
Now at Francia's border.
"Been a while."
Lucian smiled quietly at the view.
Was it his imagination?
A heat crawling over from beyond seemed to pound at his heart.
The longing spreading at the grassroots, following the White Lion's footsteps.
The northern White Lion stood at its center.
Now, the other independence factions would have to acknowledge they were truly the strongest force.
Jenes's existence alone made it possible.
It was only natural.
Just listing his short-time exploits left no one in Francia who could oppose him.
With their position solidified because of it.
Now it was time for unification.
First destination: Tainan.
They would claim the 'Winding Strait' representing the west first.