What Kind of Damn Castle Is This?
Giselle dragged her exhausted body back to the command tent in the temporary encampment. She removed her helmet and slumped into a seat, only for the unit commanders and the military physician to rush over and crowd around her.
"Casualty report."
"By some miracle, not a single soldier was killed!"
At the adjutant's words, everyone in the tent let out a collective sigh of relief. It was nothing short of a miracle. They had met a beast wave twice the size of previous years head-on, yet no one had died. The credit belonged to the ample food supplies an unknown merchant group called the Breath of the North Wind had scattered across the north just days earlier.
But the joy was short-lived.
"However, Your Highness..." The military physician stepped forward with a devastated expression. "While there were no fatalities, the number of critically wounded is overwhelming. Hundreds require immediate emergency care."
"Then see to their treatment at once. What is the problem?"
"The medicine... we have no medicine left."
The military physician lowered his head, his voice shaking. "Since the imperial court cut off all support, our stockpiles of hemostatic agents and anesthetics have been completely exhausted since last month. We don't even have enough clean bandages. At this rate, more than half the wounded will die from infected wounds or frostbite."
The mood inside the tent grew heavy. Soldiers who had survived the battlefield might now perish in agony simply because there was no medicine. Giselle bit her lip hard. The helplessness of being a ruler yet unable to secure even a single dose of medicine to save her people who had bled for her—it was crushing. What was she supposed to do?
"...Scrape together every medicinal herb you can find in the nearby territories. Even if I must empty my own coffers, we will—"
Just as Giselle was about to issue the desperate order, a rear sentry burst into the tent.
"Your Highness!! Grand Duchess!!"
"What is it? Have remnants of the beasts appeared in the rear?"
"N-no, that's not it! An unidentified supply convoy just appeared at the rear access road of the camp, unloaded a massive quantity of goods, and vanished!"
"Goods?"
"Medicine! Mountains of hemostatic agents, anesthetics, and clean bandages!!"
Giselle's and the officers' eyes flew wide open. She immediately kicked open the tent flap and strode outside. In one corner of the encampment, sturdy wooden crates were stacked taller than a grown man. The military physician rushed over, flung one open, and top-grade herbal ointments along with spotlessly white bandages spilled out.
"O-oh! Heavens! These are all premium quality! With this much, we can save every last wounded soldier!!"
The military physician wept openly as he shouted. Among the injured, cries of "We're saved!" and "We can live!" broke out as men embraced one another and sobbed.
Giselle stared blankly at the miraculous sight before noticing the black stamp pressed into the side of the crate.
It was the same unidentified benefactor who had left enormous quantities of food at the slums and the forward fortress before.
"...Just who are you?"
Giselle reached out and gently traced the surface of the stamp. She had no idea who they were, but a fierce wave of gratitude surged up from the depths of her chest.
Whoever you are... I will never forget this debt for the rest of my life.
Even amid the biting snowstorm, the sight of relief blooming on her soldiers' faces allowed Giselle to finally set down a small portion of the heavy burden weighing on her heart.
As the horrific crisis at the front was finally being resolved, the urgent sound of hooves cut through the blizzard.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop!
A messenger knight bearing the Grand Duchess's crest on his armor galloped into the encampment. Both horse and rider looked ready to collapse, foaming at the mouth after riding without rest through the night.
"Your Highness!! Grand Duchess!!"
The messenger knight practically tumbled from his saddle and fell to his knees in the dirt. Giselle's eyes narrowed as she emerged from the tent.
"What is it? Did beasts breach the castle?"
"Something far more terrible than beasts has occurred...! Last night, right after Your Highness departed with the main force, a large-scale bloodbath broke out in the armory and central courtyard!"
The air around them froze instantly. Giselle's crimson eyes darkened.
"...A bloodbath. Who drew steel inside my castle?"
"It was Baron and his faction! They mobilized the private army they had been secretly cultivating, seized the armory, and tried to lock the castle gates!"
Giselle's fist clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Baron. She had always known he would betray her eventually, but he had truly chosen the exact moment she and the main army were gone to launch his rebellion.
"Then what of the castle? Did Hexion suppress them?!"
"Yes, he did! Commander Hexion and the knights of the Second Company slaughtered the private soldiers and put down the revolt, however..."
The messenger knight's shoulders trembled as he recalled something, and he lowered his head.
"At the center of that suppression... was His Highness the Eighth Prince."
"What?"
"The one who took Baron’s head was none other than His Highness the Prince!! He ordered the Knight Commander to draw his sword and then massacred the private soldiers himself...!"
Giselle's mind went completely white, as if struck by lightning.
—Immediately leave part of the elite northern knight order in the castle to guard me! Especially that one-eyed old bastard!
The memory of Kael sitting pathetically on the dirt and screaming as the army departed flashed through her mind. The reason he had insisted on leaving Hexion and the Second Company behind. Had it not been simple fear?
Did he... already know Baron would rebel?
Was that why he had left Hexion behind—to stop the private army?
But if so, the questions only multiplied.
Why?
From the circumstances, Baron was undeniably a traitor. Which meant both Kael and Baron were following the imperial court's will to crush the North. If Kael truly wanted the North's destruction, the perfect move would have been to let Baron lock the gates and join hands with him.
So why? Why would the Emperor's spy slaughter the Emperor's own pawn?
Did he stop the rebellion... to protect my back?
Giselle bit her lip in utter confusion. No. There was no way that beast-like man would have dirtied his hands to protect the North. The monster who had extorted a hundred thousand gold from her and mocked her people—why would he do this?
Was it a factional struggle within the imperial family? Or had Baron done something that fatally crossed the prince?
I cannot read that man's intentions at all.
Everything was shrouded in fog.
"Your Highness, you must return to the castle at once...!"
"The vanguard will return with me immediately! The rest of the main force will monitor the beasts' movements and rotate back later!"
Without hesitation, Giselle mounted her bloodstained warhorse once more. She had to see with her own eyes exactly what had happened inside the castle while she was gone. Her horse kicked up clouds of white snow from the Snowy Sea Valley as it charged toward the fortress.
The morning sun had risen. I, who had only managed to catch a brief nap, opened my eyes to blinding sunlight.
"...Ah, fuck."
My side was killing me. It was the wound from that bastard Baron's dagger. It had been tolerable while adrenaline was flooding my system, but after sleeping even a little, it burned like someone had set my guts on fire.
Am I seriously going to die from sepsis at this rate?
Cold sweat poured down my back as I forced myself up from the bed. Last night, in front of Hexion and the knights, I had played the madman so convincingly that I had coolly waved off any talk of treatment. But the moment I was alone, pathetic groans kept slipping out.
Screw pride. Survival came first.
Swallowing my embarrassment, I threw on some outer clothes and opened the door of the annex. Right then, I ran into Hexion, who had just finished handling the courtyard and was heading my way.
"...Oh."
Hexion saw me and approached with clear wariness. He still didn't trust me. Honestly, trusting me would have been weirder. Still, this was the same old knight commander who had looked at me like a cockroach until yesterday. After fighting side by side, maybe some reluctant respect had formed. His attitude seemed slightly softer now.
"What business do you have?"
His speech had returned to its usual formal tone. Last night had been an emergency, so he had followed my lead. That time was over.
I straightened my back, refusing to show any weakness, and cleared my throat.
"Ahem. Forget that. I need to put some medicine on this. Where are all the castle physicians?"
"Ah... about that. Due to the beast wave, every physician in the castle was dispatched to the fortress defense."
"What? Then never mind. Just tell me where the medicine storage is. I'll handle the ointment and bandages myself."
"That is..." Hexion looked troubled and averted his gaze. "The medicine was also sent entirely to the front lines for the defense. There is nothing left inside the castle."
"...Excuse me?"
"There is not a single dose of anesthetic or hemostatic agent remaining to treat Your Highness's wound. I am sorry."
No, what the fuck? How could a place like the Grand Duchess Castle have zero medicine?
"Hey, what kind of damn castle is this?! Is the North some kind of beggar's den?"
When I exploded, Hexion clutched his head and answered painfully.
"I will send someone to the territory immediately to find a physician."
"Forget it! I'll go myself! I'll die of sepsis before you people bring anyone!"
"Wait! There may still be remnants of those rats left! I will escort you, so please—"
"I don't need it, so piss off! You just guard the castle properly!"
I shoved Hexion aside and stormed out through the main gate of the Grand Duchess Castle, fuming. But the moment I stepped outside, I realized something.
I had come out, but I didn't know a single physician in the entire territory.
The knife-like wind brushed across my wound, and tears stung my eyes. In the end, only one person came to mind. Clutching my stomach and groaning, I headed for the back alleys on the outskirts of the territory.