Chapter 240
Chapter 240
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 240
Chapter Title: 69. The Pack Chasing the Dawn (4)
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"Haa."
Malcoy let out sigh after sigh.
His sighs stabbed at my chest like needles.
An awkward silence stretched on.
After a long while, Malcoy finally opened his mouth.
"Your Highness. I've been waiting day and night for the day you would call for me, studying this place's horses and etiquette without rest..."
"You've probably already heard, but war has broken out between the Kingdom of Dotrin and the Empire."
But I had no intention of just letting complaints spill from his mouth.
"Dotrin has already recaptured the flood-ravaged western region they lost in the last war and is now sweeping westward in triumph."
"What are you suddenly..."
"The Empire's forces are scattered everywhere, unable to mount any proper response, racking up defeat after defeat."
"Your Highness. So right now..."
"Whether it's the 3rd Imperial Prince or the 5th, the eastern regions mean nothing to them. They're bloodshot-eyed only for the throne, so in a way, it's a natural result."
Malcoy tried to speak up several times in between, but I ignored it all and relayed the situation as quickly as possible.
"But even that has its limits. The situation's reached this point, yet they still haven't come up with any real countermeasures. At the very least, they should assemble in one place to prepare for a decisive battle with Dotrin. Even just gathering the eastern army would match Dotrin's forces."
Malcoy's pouting lips snapped shut.
"And yet the Imperial army isn't assembling in one spot—they're not even showing any signs of moving."
Interest began to flicker in eyes filled only with betrayal and resentment.
"As if they're waiting for something."
"You're suspicious of it, aren't you, Your Highness."
Malcoy, who had been listening quietly to my explanation, finally spoke up.
He had bitten the bait I'd cast.
"Do you think all the Imperial army's defeats are intentional?"
I smirked inwardly but kept my voice low and grave on the surface.
"Even the sharpest spear dulls eventually after stabbing iron armor and shields over and over. Armies that plunge deep into the Empire's territory always suffer poor logistics."
Malcoy nodded at my words.
"Indeed, just as Your Highness says. When the enemy's momentum peaks, the Empire's provincial armies prioritize luring them deep to blunt their edge rather than clashing head-on. Breaking the enemy's blades and spears..."
"Is the central army's job, directly under the Imperial family."
Malcoy tilted his head quizzically.
"You know the Imperial army unusually well."
Know it? I'd experienced it to the point of revulsion.
Four hundred years ago, when this kingdom's founder led the blood lions in a charge on the imperial capital, I was right there. And when they broke through the Empire's encirclement to return to the kingdom, I was with them.
But I couldn't tell Malcoy that.
"The kingdom's history is checkered with wars against the Empire."
I gave a curt explanation for my detailed knowledge of the Imperial army.
Then I returned to the main topic, soliciting Malcoy's take on the Imperial army's half-hearted response.
The Empire's mightiest force—the one that crushes enemies—was tied down by civil war. I couldn't fathom why they were still holding silent, waiting for something.
"Could I get more detailed reports on the war situation?"
Malcoy pondered briefly before asking for specifics.
To that, I answered,
"I don't know."
I admitted I didn't know the finer details either.
Malcoy's face stiffened.
"It's no surprise if you don't trust me, having bowed to the enemy marshal and played the clown before defecting back to Leonberg Kingdom. But my resolve in returning to the kingdom is no lie..."
"No. I really don't know."
It wasn't a lie.
The king had informed me of the war but held back the details.
Where the Dotrin army was advancing, through which paths, where battles were unfolding and how—nothing.
He'd even forbidden entry to the Marshal's Office, where all the kingdom's intelligence converged.
Defying the order and getting caught would mean severe punishment—that threat was extra.
In such circumstances, all I could do was hound the messengers coming and going from the Marshal's Office for scraps of info.
"I know Your Highness is the one destined to succeed this land."
"I know that too."
Malcoy stared at me like I was absurd.
His eyes seemed to ask what the hell I'd been up to that even the crown prince couldn't access his own kingdom's secrets.
"Not much."
Just left something like a last will and came back drenched in blood,
or got sent with a delegation, dueled enemy knights, went missing, returned ages later,
or roamed as a mercenary, fighting a bit rough.
Just a handful of minor mishaps.
To me, utterly trivial and already in the past.
I found the king's petty pressure over old history deeply distasteful.
But what could I do? King's command. The crown prince's safety mattered far more than the immediate war.
"Your Highness, to analyze the Imperial army's movements, we need information. Conclusions from these fragments will just be baseless guesses. Without info, no judgment is possible."
"I said I don't know—not that there's no information."
"So where is that information?"
Malcoy beat his chest in frustration.
"The Marshal's Office."
I replied as if it were obvious why he was asking.
"Didn't you say the king's order bars you from entering?"
"Me, yes. Not you."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You're the one going to the Marshal's Office."
Finally grasping why I'd summoned him, Malcoy scowled fiercely.
"So you want me to play spy for you..."
Having rooted out court whites and nobles no better than Imperial spies through all sorts of ordeals, the word "spy" made my expression harden on reflex.
Malcoy caught my look and bowed his head swiftly in apology.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I spoke out of turn."
"I'll let your ignorance of kingdom affairs slide this once."
His quick apology let me smooth my expression just as fast, and I laid out what he needed to do at the Marshal's Office.
Check the gathered intelligence with your own eyes and bring it to me. Then we'll pool our heads to uncover the Empire's scheme.
Malcoy asked with a baffled look.
What difference did it make from spying?
I shook my head firmly in reply.
This wasn't spying—it was just preparing for any eventualities.
Malcoy still looked unconvinced.
"Anyway, it's different."
Whatever.
"Tell the Grand Marshal I vouch for him."
I promptly dispatched a messenger to Marquis Billefeld.
And before long, the marquis visited my palace.
"It's a talent too precious to rot away. Keep him close, train him well—he's timber for great use."
The old marquis glanced back and forth between me and Malcoy.
"Heh heh heh."
Then he suddenly let out a hollow chuckle.
"If that's all, I'll take my leave. Too much to wrap up."
He bowed abruptly and turned to go.
I stopped the marquis in his tracks.
I reminded him who had spotted the talent in that maid no one else noticed and raised her to the kingdom's silver envoy.
"Seems you don't trust my judgment, Marquis."
"How could I not? I trust Your Highness more than anyone."
The marquis sighed as if the earth might cave in, staring at me.
"Just puzzled, that's all. Why now, of all times? Why the Marshal's Office?"
"Because his talents match exactly what the staff there needs."
"No other motives?"
I gave an awkward smile at the marquis's probing gaze, as if he saw right through me.
It was transparent scheming, even to me.
But in times like these, shamelessness is key.
"The earlier we start, the sooner he'll bloom. It's for the kingdom's future. I trust you understand, Marquis."
The marquis answered with endless sighs.
"Very well. I'll let it pass this time."
After an age, he accepted my proposal.
"Thanks. Knew I could count on you, Marquis."
"As if."
The marquis sighed once more, gave a curt bow, and turned.
"What are you waiting for? Follow."
Malcoy jumped at the marquis's voice from the doorway and shot me a glance.
I nodded.
Only then did Malcoy fall in behind the marquis.
The marquis glanced back at Malcoy and strode out the door. Malcoy followed, vanishing from my chambers.
Alone after they left, an inexplicable unease washed over me.
"Why'd the marquis cave so easily?"
Not like the sly old fox.
But I soon brushed it off—good is good.
That was my mistake.
A week passed—right on the day of our first rendezvous—before I realized it.
Deep into the night, waiting at the appointed spot for Malcoy, a familiar presence approached from afar.
Marquis Billefeld.
I ducked into the shadows in a flash.
I hoped he'd pass right by.
But the marquis didn't pass. He stopped right in front of me.
"I already know Your Highness is here."
He added,
"He won't come, even if you wait."
Figuring it out wasn't hard.
I stepped out from the shadows. The marquis, who'd been glancing around the wrong way, finally turned toward me.
"Malcoy spilled everything."
I scowled as I spoke, and the marquis let out a cavernous sigh.
Then he chided me.
"He's a man who's already endured the pain of surrendering to the enemy marshal once. How could you give him such an order? If Your Highness truly means to make great use of him, you must know to tend his wounds too."
His words made me freeze.
Not because he knew Malcoy's backstory.
"Treat him with honor. Your command was thoughtless, but to a man with his history, even trifles can wound his pride."
It was because his lecture struck at oversights I'd never considered.
Only then did I realize how callous I'd been.
As I inwardly berated myself late, the marquis spoke softly.
"Now that you know, it's fine. From here on, just watch over him so he can properly take root in the kingdom. Fortunately, his talents are exceptionally rare. Before long, he'll earn recognition and a place."
At his words, I simply stood there.
"Why the fret? Time will reveal it all."
"Can't just stand idle—the Empire's movements gnaw at me."
My lame excuse drew a long sigh from the marquis.
"Your Highness burning like this is all our failing for seeming so unreliable. You can't rest easy without handling it yourself."
The marquis stared straight at me, sighed briefly, and said,
"His Majesty and I know what concerns Your Highness. The staff are analyzing nonstop day and night—we'll have answers soon. But one thing upfront: what you fear won't come to pass."
Unusually confident tone.
"Because we'll draw our swords first, before the Empire does."
They had some ace up their sleeve.
"Unease eased a bit?"
"No. It's worse."
Not just talk.
I couldn't even guess the kingdom's prepared move, so my curiosity only swelled.
"If you're not telling, don't tease."
I grumbled, and the marquis smiled faintly.
"No need to rush. You'll know soon enough."
"Soon?"
"Yes. Soon."
With only questions lingering, my meeting with the marquis ended.
Back at the palace, I grabbed my sword at once.
Headed to the training grounds and swung without cease.
It was the only thing I could do now.
After swinging all night, the clutter in my head vanished like a lie.
Far better than fumbling with a pen—this suited me a hundred times more.
After that, I spent most of my time swinging the sword.
At first to clear my mind, but eventually I grew addicted to the act itself.
When I came to, Adelia—who'd shaken off her injuries—was swinging beside me. Arwen and Ilai were there too.
"Fancy a spar? Been a while."
Ilai started it.
The weakest of the silver lions I'd gathered.
"Just in case: last time, circumstances were all wrong."
No chance to respond to the ambush, the knights the others handled were mere chaff, only he truly crossed blades with a Penta knight, and so on.
Ilai rattled off unprompted chatter nonstop.
The Nightmare Knights' palace raid—he hadn't shone there, and it clearly rankled.
"Good. Make it proper this time."
No ambush, no soul-reaving magic sword.
A chance to prove himself with pure skill—I egged him on, and Ilai eagerly gathered light on his blade.
And then,
"Gahk!"
Before long, he was a bloody mess rolling on the ground.
I glanced at the half-unconscious Ilai and turned away.
Arwen had already drawn her sword, aimed at me.
"Come on."
I flicked my sword tip arrogantly.
Arwen steadied her breath, then kicked off the ground.
She unleashed a blaze of golden sword aura, pressing me hard.
I scattered her strikes—sharper than ever, incomparable to before—one by one.
"You outgrew obsessing over your brother ages ago!"
I nonstop pointed out her flaws.
After a fierce exchange, Arwen stepped back a few paces and lowered her sword.
"Thank you for the guidance."
"Don't waver—keep advancing like this. Your steps will always lead true."
"I'll keep it in mind."
Her sweat-matted hair and disheveled garb might be a mess, but her posture stayed ramrod straight as ever.
I watched her fondly and sheathed my sword.
Adelia caught me.
"Adelia?"
She'd never much liked sparring with me before.
Curious, I looked at her face and caught the flicker of grievance in her eyes.
Was it from her humiliating loss to Duncan Seymour Tudor? Or self-reproach for being useless while I battled tough foes? I couldn't tell.
I was just glad to see her take up the sword of her own will before me for the first time.
I regripped my sword.
Unlike Arwen or Ilai, the Sword Marquis's heir was a tricky moderate opponent. I steadied my breath and stance.
Boom!
A golden flash hurtled in.
A savage, brutal thrust—fundamentally unlike Arwen's balanced power-speed-skill or Ilai's razor wind strikes.
"Excellent!"
Exhilarated, I swung wildly like a madman. Only after Adelia collapsed utterly spent did I sheathe my blade.
Seeing her stand panting, still clutching her sword tight, a swell of pride hit me.
"Finally shedding that handmaid air."
Adelia flushed red.
I'd thought her more knightly, but she reverted quick.
Not bad in my eyes, so I laughed heartily and tousled her hair wildly.
"Total monsters."
Ilai—awake at some point—muttered in dismay.
But his face was covered in scratches that hadn't been there before the spar.
Come to think of it, something had tripped me up at my feet during the bout—I'd kicked it away a few times.
Looks like it was Ilai.
Fortunate he seemed oblivious.
I hurriedly tidied up.
Days flowed by.
And the marquis's "soon" arrived.
Much earlier than I'd expected.
In a form I hadn't imagined.