Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Hands Switched
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The reinforcements led by Serubret, patriarch of Furosange House, arrived at the scene.
It was already too late.
"Wh-what is this?"
Serubret had to doubt his own eyes.
Whiiiiiing...
A cold wind blew away the stench of blood from the corpses.
The rangers that Furosange House prided itself on had already merged with the dirt, snow, and ice shards.
Human body parts grotesquely torn apart hung from sharp rocks and tree branches like fruit.
There were scarcely any corpses that retained a proper shape.
The most intact ones were barely distinguishable as upper and lower bodies.
"What the hell happened here?! Why have my rangers ended up like this!?"
"..."
The surrounding knights hesitated.
An elderly knight replied, his voice heavy with despair.
"Only a Frozen Horror could create a scene this gruesome. From the looks of it, it's an adult specimen that's been mature for quite some time."
"Frozen Horror? Why bring up that monster? It only inhabits the frozen wastes far beyond the coniferous forests... Don't tell me?"
Serubret's expression changed drastically.
He scanned the snowy plain strewn with corpses.
"It can't be a trap set by those Meursault bastards, can it?"
"It's unlikely, but if they have the means to lure an adult Frozen Horror all the way here... it's not impossible."
Serubret kicked a rock in response to the old knight's answer.
Kwa-bam!
The solid rock shattered and was uprooted from the ground.
His ambition to elevate Furosange from one of the Northern Five Houses to an independent kingdom.
The first step in that plan was to annihilate Meursault's merchant caravan.
But it had gone awry from the start, and now it showed signs of derailing completely.
After venting his rage for a long while, Serubret turned to his reinforcement rangers with a pale face.
"Where's Finn? Where is my son?"
"..."
No one answered.
They merely shifted their downward gazes slightly northward.
"?"
Serubret didn't miss the direction their eyes flicked toward.
Soon, he spotted a cloak caught midway up a hillock.
The cloak Finn always wore.
Beside it, his bow was snagged on a tree branch.
Drawing closer, he saw Finn's favored dagger embedded in the tree trunk.
And below that...
"My son?"
Serubret's voice trembled.
He dropped to his knees on the frozen ground mixed with dirt and snow.
"My son?"
He reached out a shaking hand toward the reddish, mushy clumps scattered on the ground.
Brushing away the snow and dirt revealed a bluish, rigidly frozen lower body.
It was the pants and boots Finn had worn before heading into battle.
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!"
Serubret let out a howl.
All the rangers behind him bowed their heads to the ground.
The Furosange vanguard pursuing Meursault had been annihilated.
They had intended to plunder Meursault's caravan from the outset and stage the scene to evade responsibility.
But the outcome was the opposite.
Meursault's caravan was more heavily armed than expected, making plunder impossible. The scene was immediately exposed, and they were ensnared by their own scheme in reverse.
No one knew what trick they used, but Meursault had drawn in the dangerous high-rank monster, the Frozen Horror, wiping out Furosange's pursuers while slipping away unscathed.
Finn, who died during the pursuit of Meursault, was no longer a martyr who fell fighting Furosange House's unjust aggression. He had become a fool who perished trying to hunt a monster beyond his station.
Naturally, there was no evidence left to hold Meursault accountable.
...Grind!
Serubret ground his teeth.
So fiercely that a few molars cracked, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Where did the Meursault bastards go?"
"We're currently investigating..."
As the old ranger began his report,
Crack!
Serubret seized him by the collar.
"Still investigating? When the hell do you plan to pursue them?! Huh?! Next year when the snow melts?! When my son's corpse rots to pieces?! When?!"
"Th-they seem to have fled east, but it's not confirmed yet..."
No sooner had the subordinate finished than Serubret bellowed.
"I saw broken branches all veering one way on the eastern slope earlier! It could be the Meursault bastards or our survivors—advance that way!"
A father's eyes, having sent his son off first, were terrifying.
No matter how valiant Furosange's rangers were, none could object to Serubret's command now.
They might end up shouldering the blame for this defeat.
At that moment.
"Viscount Serubret, no further pursuit."
A woman stepped forward from behind the rangers.
Clad in a purple robe.
She was beautiful, but her eyes held an unmistakable chill and cruelty that repelled rather than attracted men.
Serubret swallowed hard.
"Shedioldis..."
She was a mage residing as a guest in Furosange House.
She had also healed Finn after his wrist was severed by Federback previously.
With Shedioldis's appearance, Serubret's momentum softened slightly.
She spoke in a gentle tone.
"The timing isn't right. Resuming pursuit could lead to even greater ranger losses."
"I lost my son."
"You can always have another."
Shedioldis dismissed Serubret's barbed remark casually.
The surrounding rangers gasped at her words.
But surprisingly, Serubret didn't flare up.
He merely grunted and swallowed.
Shedioldis continued in a soft voice.
"You can have another son, but skilled rangers are hard to replace. And losing more won't bring your dead son back."
"..."
"Young Master Finn's death is tragic for me too, but we can't afford to lose more rangers."
She approached Serubret's side.
Then whispered softly into his ear.
"Remember, Patriarch: sons can be had again anytime, skilled rangers take ages to replace, but a house lost is gone forever."
"...You're right."
Serubret nodded with a long sigh.
Shedioldis spoke as if praising an obedient child.
"Last night, I clearly advised against dispatching troops, but Young Master Finn seems to have misinterpreted my prophecy. Still, now that it's happened, we must handle it well."
"How?"
"Start a propaganda war."
"Propaganda?"
As Serubret echoed, Shedioldis nodded.
"I've already sent agents throughout the North. They'll spread rumors that Meursault killed Furosange's young master and framed it as a monster attack."
"Will that work?"
"It's one of many tactics. You have your own role, Patriarch."
"What must I do?"
Serubret asked urgently.
Shedioldis smiled faintly and looked around.
"Have all these rangers hole up in Furosange Citadel and prepare for a siege."
"A siege? Against whom?"
"Meursault, of course."
"!"
Serubret finally nodded.
"I see. The fleeing Meursault bastards will think I'm pursuing them. Having lost their eldest son too, they'll believe rage has blinded me and that I'll cross the territory border without hesitation."
"Had I not advised otherwise, you surely would have."
"Those cunning fools were prepared in advance. It was all planned. The moment I cross the border, their armed forces will swarm, pushing straight to Furosange Citadel."
"You're truly wise, Patriarch."
"They wanted war from the start. If we sit idle, they'll march on the castle."
"Exactly. So prepare for siege from the outset. Trust the agents to spread word that Meursault invaded first."
"Meursault clings to honor even in death. They obsess over public opinion like idiots, so they'll have no choice but to turn back."
"Yes. Meursault has that stuffy side. That's why they're struggling."
Shedioldis wore a seductive smile.
Serubret spoke with bloodshot eyes.
"Meursault invaded Furosange without cause and killed the young master. That rumor alone suffices. Once public opinion forms, we'll crush them in a full campaign."
"Then the other Northern houses will support Furosange too. Especially Levarb House, recently humiliated by Meursault—they'll jump at the chance."
"Understood."
Serubret turned and issued new orders.
"All units, return to the main castle! Prepare for defense!"
A few days later, Serubret's forces returned to the main castle.
Furosange Citadel.
This fortress was renowned across the North as the tallest, steepest, most rugged, and sturdiest.
Whiiiiiing...
Even winds that could go anywhere faltered before its wailing walls.
It exuded an oppressive presence, as if a rocky mountain had been carved directly into a fortress.
The North's impregnable stronghold that none could conquer.
Serubret stood before the gates with Shedioldis at his side.
"Open the gates!"
One ranger shouted toward the walls.
For some reason, no sentries stood outside the gates.
Sensing something amiss, Serubret stepped forward himself.
"What are you doing?! Plans changed—we're back, so open the damn gates...!"
But the gates didn't open.
Instead, a single arrow flew.
...Thuk!
It embedded in the mouth of the first shouting ranger.
Seeing the body tumble from its horse, Serubret jerked his head up.
Flutter—
Only then did he notice the flag waving atop the walls.
Where Furosange banners once flew, Meursault banners now fluttered.
And soon, a boy peeked out beside the flag.
"What riffraff causing a ruckus in front of someone else's house?"
Serubret's jaw dropped at the sight of the boy.
The scene unfolding before him was so shocking it blurred dream from reality.
"If you're begging, do it properly."
The boy clicking his tongue from the walls was unmistakably the young Meursault he had met before.
Federback.