Chapter 242
Chapter: 242
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 242
>Chapter Title: Return (2)
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>The long, endless night finally came to an end, and faint morning sunlight began to peek over the mountain ridges surrounding the branch castle.
What had once escalated into a desperate situation on the front lines had completely stabilized by dawn. The soldiers of Sigismund Territory managed to drive the magic beasts entirely out of the fief.
Magic beast corpses littered the ground everywhere.
The surviving Lycanslopes were busy fleeing with their tails between their legs, while the soldiers, now regaining some leisure, roamed about finishing off the ones that were still barely clinging to life.
"It's the grace of the Lord God. Otherwise..."
Sir Ilma, finally catching her breath, murmured as she gazed up at the reddening sky.
Who could argue otherwise?
Roughly 1,500 Lycanslopes had assaulted the territory. Yet only about a hundred had managed to flee unscathed over the mountain ridges.
In contrast, Sigismund Territory's losses were smaller than expected. Compared to the moment when annihilation had seemed inevitable, it was truly an unbelievable achievement.
"There'll be some localized skirmishes for a while, but no more full-scale battles like yesterday."
As she watched the retreating Lycanslopes, Sir Sebastian approached from behind and spoke.
"Should we not pursue them?"
"We don't have the manpower for that. Even catching up on Schnishe horses would be tough. Lycanslopes are faster than most cavalry."
The guard captain slowly wrapped his arm around Ilma's shoulders and continued.
"No rush, Ilma. Let's rally the exhausted soldiers first. Why don't you rest and have some nourishment? I smell onion stew from the village square. Hans must be boiling up another huge pot of his bland stuff."
"Ahaha."
A soft smile finally graced the weary Lady Ilma's face for the first time.
"I always think it, but your nose is incredible. How you pick up that scent amid all this blood reek."
"Who wouldn't? It's all for eating and surviving."
With that retort, Sir Sebastian buried his nose against his wife's shoulder.
"Let's wrap up quickly and head home. If we're lucky, we might see our pretty daughter's face by lunchtime."
"Yes, let's hurry back. Luise must be guarding the house alone, terribly worried about us."
Lady Ilma closed her eyes, leaning into her reliable husband's embrace. Utterly unaware of the tragic news soon to reach them.
A fleeting moment of peace.
* * *
"Sigismund never yielded, even before the sudden colossal ordeal. And not only that—it proved itself once more as the empire's steadfast shield guarding the border of the demon realm. The Wolf Knight Order's efforts were crucial here, of course, but no less so were the territory soldiers who fought valiantly without retreating an inch before the horde of magic beasts."
Back at the count's residence, Margrave Hendrick scanned the people gathered in the study and praised them calmly.
"Butler."
"Yes, my lord."
"Console every fallen soldier without fail, and ensure appropriate rewards for those who distinguished themselves."
"As you command."
"Go now."
As the old butler bowed politely, Orden, who had overheard from the side, spoke up.
"Haven't you overlooked one thing, my lord?"
"What is it, Orden?"
"The greatest contributors were undoubtedly Prince Mores and Prince Logan. Why no separate mention of them? Had it not been for the two princes, we would never have seen this morning's sun safely."
Orden pointed out the plain fact that everyone in Sigismund wished to avoid.
"I know you take great pride in defending the territory ourselves, without relying on outsiders generation after generation. But since we did receive such great aid, shouldn't we acknowledge it and offer our sincere gratitude first and foremost?"
"......"
"We can't just end it with light rewards like for the territory soldiers. You know it well, my lord—Sigismund now owes the Holy Imperial Family an immense debt."
"Ahem, hem!"
Old Vincent cleared his throat uncomfortably, but Orden's demeanor showed no wavering.
Watching him quietly, Margrave Hendrick cleared the room.
"Father. I need to speak with Orden alone, so if you would excuse us?"
"Understood. Ahem!"
Now alone in the vast study with just the two of them, Margrave Hendrick opened his mouth with a displeased expression.
"Orden."
"Yes, my lord."
"You're far too quick to conclude on matters that haven't even come to pass. True, the princes did aid our Sigismund. But even without that assistance, what makes you think we couldn't have overcome this crisis?"
"...Pardon?"
Orden faltered for a moment.
"But my lord, without their help, we surely would have suffered massive losses...!"
"Perhaps some damage, yes. But to arbitrarily decide the scale of what didn't happen—how can you presume?"
"......"
Watching his son stiffen rigidly, the margrave let out a small sigh.
"Haven't I warned you repeatedly? For someone in your position, how can you so casually invoke 'the house's debt'? Don't you realize every word from you directly impacts the territory's gains and losses?"
"Is acknowledging a favor really about such calculations?"
"Of course it is! Even if your words hold principle, the moment you represent the house, caution upon caution is required. Have you learned nothing from being with Prince Mores?"
That young prince negotiated with him as naturally as breathing, weighing profits and losses—yet his own upright son seemed utterly unreliable by comparison.
Hendrick furrowed his brows, meeting Orden's defiant gaze.
"Listen well. As you know, the imperial family and our territory share a solid partnership built over long years—even from when Sigismund existed as a kingdom apart from the empire."
That partnership was like an invisible roof, sustained only by two pillars of equal height, firm and balanced.
"A relationship of mutual necessity, neither side tilting even slightly toward the other. In such an inseparable bond, one must be all the more cautious in official statements."
"What do you mean by cautious?"
"Even expressions of gratitude must be handled strictly behind the scenes."
Just imagining how that cunning Prince Mores would exploit this left the margrave with a stabbing headache.
"But..."
"You're tired too. Withdraw and rest."
His son seemed eager to protest further, but the margrave averted his gaze and waved him off—a clear dismissal.
Biting his lip as he turned to leave, Orden paused and asked,
"My lord. One last question."
"What?"
"Then, the deal you made with the Milo Merchant Guild—was that in the same vein?"
The air grew heavy as Orden's sharp voice filled the study.
"You knew their distributed herbal tea was clearly harmful to the territory, yet you let it slide to extract a fitting price?"
"......"
"You knew the count's residence servants, Mother, and even the family had been consuming it for years."
"...And what of it?"
Though caught off guard, the margrave's face showed not a flicker of agitation as he faced Orden.
"You're still so soft and lacking, Orden. For now, you are my proud son, closest to succession."
Yet Hendrick Sigismund's face as he uttered "proud" was utterly cold.
"So etch this well: What a house head demands above all is not personal martial prowess, but cold, objective judgment over every aspect of the territory. The very quality your younger brothers sometimes show more aptitude for."
Judge objectively and weigh profits and losses?
Even when it concerned Mother's and the family's well-being?
Watching deep anguish cloud his son's eyes, the margrave added a superfluous remark.
"Remember this. It's advice from my own affection for you. Understood?"
"...Yes, my lord."
Orden nodded with a sunken face—the expression of defeat and resignation from repeated failures.
At times, facing his father, Orden felt an insurmountable, towering wall between them.
He and the margrave were such different people. No amount of effort would ever close that gap in his lifetime.
It was just as he was about to close the study door.
"Ah, Orden, by the way."
The margrave glanced around suspiciously, tilting his head.
"There's something I've wanted to ask. While I was away from the count's residence, did someone clean the study?"
"Pardon?"
"The study feels... no, never mind. Nothing's changed; I must be oversensitive."
Margrave Hendrick tilted his head slightly.
For some reason, the image of Prince Mores confidently shoving classified documents at him flashed in Orden's mind, but he kept silent and feigned ignorance.
With a bow to the margrave, Orden quietly withdrew from the study.
"Ah, Brother Orden!"
Walking gloomily down the corridor, a cheerful voice called from behind. It was his younger brother, Emit.
"What? They said the prince from the rear was carried in half-dead, but here you are without a scratch? Did you even fight?"
"Emit."
"Ah, don't look at me like that. Not like I wanted you hurt. I was pretty worried, you know."
Orden's eyes fell to his brother's arm, wrapped thickly in bandages yet moving without hindrance.
"Ah, this? Haha. As you know, Brother, I fell off my horse badly a few days ago. I wanted to help with the territory's crisis, but this arm couldn't even hold a sword. Instead—sort of—I helped Mother guard the house diligently."
"......"
"You did well too, Brother. Anyway, coming from the study? I want to see the lord— is he there now?"
"...Yes. Go on."
Leaving his particularly distasteful younger brother behind today, Orden hurried down the corridor.
Exhausted from the intensely packed day, he wanted nothing but rest, but he still had a place to visit.
Prince Mores, who had teetered on the brink of life and death, had finally stabilized around dawn, they said.
"He briefly regained consciousness earlier. He's sleeping now, much improved."
Listening to Priest Gustav's explanation, Orden cautiously opened the door.
Sure enough, Prince Mores lay quietly in the center of the bed. For some reason, bandages covered his eyes.
But the prince wasn't alone.
Large armchairs were pulled right up to both sides of his bed. There, Prince Logan and Sir Masain slumped, fast asleep.
Both still in full armor, exhaustion plain on their faces—a testament they had come straight from battle and hadn't left his side once.
"Are Prince Logan and Sir Masain unwell?"
Given their extraordinary prowess, it was unusual they hadn't woken with someone approaching so closely.
Especially Prince Logan, with a sword master's stamina plus monstrous divine power.
Noticing Orden's puzzlement, Priest Gustav whispered quietly.
"Prince Logan poured divine power into Prince Mores nonstop until just now. He had to be exhausted. Had he not come here, Prince Mores's life would have been in grave danger. The priests would only have hindered with their presence—it was that overwhelming divine power."
In other words, Prince Mores's condition had been that dire.
'He was supposed to be kept in the rear—how did this happen?'
In any case, it occurred while aiding the territory.
Recalling his conversation with the margrave, Orden's heart grew heavy.
"Forgive us, Your Highness. You've bestowed such great favor, yet Sigismund can't even offer proper thanks."
Naturally, no reply came from the prince. His pale complexion suggested he wasn't fully recovered.
Truly wondrous.
Yesterday's prince had led him and the Wolf Knight Order with an uncanny aura of intimidation, commanded the Glacier Trolls, and crushed the enemy. He had seemed utterly reliable and steadfast.
Yet lying there now, he looked just like any ordinary boy his age. It was hard to believe such a heavy burden rested on those young shoulders.
Had it not been too much for him?
"......"
Despite such worries, for some reason, Orden also saw the boy as the happiest person in the world.
A boy loved by every member of the imperial family.
A boy who received all of Princess Amelia's love.
A bitter taste filled his mouth inevitably.
* * *
>Pangea Chronicle Free Board
>=== === === ===
>Yesterday's hidden event—was that not a bug?
>=== === === ===
>For real? Has Impulse Soft finally dropped the ball on operations?
>I got the event alert yesterday and thought perfect timing. The desert dragon raid was awkwardly timed anyway.
>So I geared up roughly and went in, but the event zone was a map I'd never seen in the game.
>Thought it was a pre-update or something, spaced out admiring it. Wow... the graphics were so detailed, a volcano spewing nonstop, red lava flowing all the way to the horizon.
>But the moment I entered the battle zone, my head got lopped off. Then I got booted from the game right after.
>First thought it was a crash. But on relog, death penalty popped, and two pieces of my Red Lion set were gone.
>Honestly still don't know what hit me. I'm a top-rank ranker, proud of my def/res stack.
>WTF, is this a normal event? Feels like there was some bug.
>Any way to get items restored? Clearly the devs' screw-up.
>Should I hit up customer support?
>-Proof your rank first lol
>-Customer support's useless. Impulse Soft's policy same from beta to now. No restores ever, replies all macro bots. Famous for it.
>└Join the cheerfully screwed ranks? LMAOOOOO
>└Red Lion set? You're the king of complaints!
>-I was online all day yesterday, no such event? Stop faking lol
>└LOL Log time limits? You're the faker smh
>└?????
>└Wtf? You ignoring hospice mode?
>└Silence (_ _)
>-Faking confirmed, everyone got it, how's it hidden? I'm decent rank too, got one-shot there, dropped my full-str weapon. Pangea gal's burning over the event rn.
>└Keep bragging rank, proof it first
>└Nah proof the full-str weapon first LOL
>└I said I dropped it --;;;;
>-Rank 3 Stanis just went live. Raging and cursing over the hidden quest.
>└That's Polan or some streamer? How you know Polish curses?
>└Smashing keyboard screaming—that ain't cursing?
>-Impulse Soft lost its way lately. Instead of crap events like this, fix Ice Heart drop rate pls. No listings at all? Months after dungeon release, auction house/trade post empty?
>└Ice Heart? Never heard.
>└Contextless noob drop whining? Idiot
>-Ice Heart rumored essential for hidden job change. At least legend/mythic job related?