Chapter 384: Bread and Dagger (82)
Chapter 384: Bread and Dagger (82)
The biting night wind hammered against the window.
An old man stared out at the darkness with deep-set, blood-red eyes. Though the heavy snowfall blurred his vision, he did not turn away.
He was a man suffering from a grave illness.
Like most ailments, it had crept up on him stealthily. It began with faint omens one day, followed by years of struggling against it.
And at the end of that long, arduous process, the man had no choice but to accept the truth.
He had contracted an incurable disease.
The name of that unavoidable affliction was 'aging.'
A chill was seeping into every corner of a body that had once been robust.
The old man found this undeniable fact particularly sorrowful.
Once, in the distant past, he would have laughed off such cold.
In truth, he could still do so now if he set his mind to it. No matter how frail his body became, the heights he had reached in his prime would not simply vanish.
But today, he didn't feel like doing so.
One might call it resignation.
It was an inevitable fate regardless. No matter how ungracefully he struggled, the impending reality would not change. If so, it was better to simply submit.
Having accepted his lot, the old man had only one routine left.
Sinking into the swamp of the past and ruminating on his glorious days.
Even that, however, had recently begun to bore him.
The man’s youth had not been as brilliant as others believed. If anything, it was a time spent being dragged along by shadows.
One day, he would have to pay for his sins.
But he hadn't expected that day to arrive so abruptly.
The old man’s wrinkled eyelids closed over his retinas.
His breathing was becoming increasingly labored—evidence that his lungs were failing.
The end was near.
Sensing this instinctively, the old man slowly opened his mouth.
“I’ve been hearing some irritating rumors lately. That you’ve been digging into my youth… Is that how I taught you?”
“Use any ways and means for victory.”
At the topic raised by his daughter, the old man fell silent again.
It was a phrase he had heard before.
Long ago, he had vaguely imparted it to her. That the destiny of Yurdina was nothing but victory.
However, there was no such thing as eternal victory.
To win, one’s hands had to be stained with blood. One had to be prepared to do dirty work without hesitation, and even then, life was a series of unavoidable defeats.
Therefore, one had to be even more ruthless with their methods.
The stain of 'defeat' could simply be shifted onto someone else. The footsteps of Yurdina had to trace a path of absolute victory.
Because the fate of Yurdina was the fate of the North.
To achieve this, one had to be capable of anything.
Digging into someone’s past?
That wasn't even a trivial matter. It was the reason Delphine’s voice remained so bold.
“It’s a phrase I’ve kept in my heart since I was a child, Father… To be precise, since the moment you killed Old Man Hanson right before my eyes.”
“That’s a name I haven't heard in a long time. ‘Hanson’… Was he the stableman?”
It was a memory he spoke of with a bitter smile.
Delphine’s blood-red eyes deepened. Her expression even held a faint trace of hostility.
After that day, Delphine’s life had changed completely.
The cheerful girl loved by everyone died along with Old Man Hanson. In her place, a fanatic obsessed with victory took over.
Yes, at least until she met Ian.
No matter their blood relation, resentment was bound to grow. The wound that day’s scene left on Delphine’s mind was that deep.
“It was a regrettable incident for me as well. He was an excellent stableman.”
“You didn't seem to hesitate… Did you really have to kill Old Man Hanson? And in front of your young daughter, no less?”
“That is not for you to decide, my daughter.”
His voice was calm, yet it carried a weight far beyond its tone.
The sound, soaked in regret, left a bitter resonance in Delphine’s ears.
“Did I not tell you? You don't even have the freedom to take responsibility… You are a Yurdina. All the people of the North look to you as their sun. Your mistakes, your defeats—in the end, your subordinates have no choice but to shoulder them in your stead…”
“And what about you, Father?”
Now it was the Marquis of Yurdina’s turn to remain silent.
The woman’s gaze toward the old man was sharp. The dim lamp flickered, casting fire shadows everywhere.
Even in that murky light, her blood-red eyes were vivid.
Delphine continued, her words spat out like venom.
“I suppose you were the same? Have you enjoyed your long-lasting glory, selling off your vassals and subordinates one by one until now?”
“……Your insolence goes too far today.”
“No, it’s not insolence. Because I am the next head of the Yurdina family!”
Rarely for her, she seemed agitated.
Emotions buried long ago were regaining their color. The confessions poured out with heat were more like a desperate plea.
Delphine, too, was a human made of flesh and blood.
There was no way she welcomed a situation where she had to doubt her own father. That chaotic state of mind was violently shaking Delphine’s composure.
“Looking back, you always had a pained expression. You never once looked happy… Just what kind of burden did you have to carry?”
“Delphine…”
“Someone is intentionally suppressing information about the elves. And yet, I heard Alex was performing a solo mission in a place no one has ever heard of. In an elf village, of all places…!”
“Delphine!”
Delphine’s mouth snapped shut at the sudden, thunderous shout.
The old man had already turned his back. His blood-red eyes, which had not yet lost their vitality, glared at Delphine.
The baptism of pouring moonlight was brilliant.
After staring at Delphine in silence for a while, the Marquis of Yurdina finally let out a long sigh.
“It’s something you’re better off not knowing anyway. You seem troubled lately because of that flesh monster… Leave it to me.”
It was an abrupt proposal.
Delphine continued to glare at the Marquis with eyes still full of wariness.
Regardless, the old man’s persuasion continued.
“I will give you victory.”
It was then that Delphine’s body froze.
It was an incredibly sweet offer.
Even if the catalyst had been tragic, it was the value she had pursued her entire life. It was impossible to easily cast aside her obsession with it.
Especially at a time when no other breakthrough was in sight.
Suddenly, a certain man crossed Delphine’s mind.
Ian Percus.
He would be fighting for his life on the front lines right about now. She hadn't heard the detailed plan, but frankly, it was a battle without hope.
If she accepted the Marquis’s proposal, could she save him?
It was a calculation she was making for the first time in her life.
It was a ridiculous sight.
The great Delphine Yurdina was conflicted over a single man. And that, too, in a place that might decide the fate of the North.
If someone had told the Delphine of just a few months ago, she wouldn't have even bothered to scoff.
But this was the undeniable reality.
“I am gathering all sorts of troops, but the situation is not good. I heard that Ian Percus fellow is heading out… but unless he is a Master, he cannot overturn the disadvantage alone.”
It was a perfectly reasonable argument.
Inwardly, Delphine agreed that the Marquis was right. Any person with common sense would reach the same conclusion.
Ian was strong.
But war was not something fought alone. Numerous troops to support him were essential. And in a battle of scale, the role of a hero was limited.
Raising morale, or seizing momentum.
Those were strokes of luck one could only aim for when the forces were somewhat balanced. The monster the North had to face was a being out of myth, born from devouring countless elves.
Delphine instinctively bit her lip.
“Win, Delphine.”
That single sentence pressed heavily upon Delphine’s heart.
That she could win?
The story was almost excessively clear.
“I am going to die soon anyway. Then you will inherit Yurdina… Until then, I will try to suppress that monster. If you reorganize your strength in the meantime, you can win.”
“……How do you intend to suppress it?”
“Do you need to know? What matters is the fact that you can win.”
The old man put his hands behind his back and turned away once more.
Only his blood-red eyes were still fixed on Delphine.
“Use any ways and means for victory.”
It was the second time those words were spoken today.
Only the speaker had changed. From Delphine to the Marquis.
The woman had no choice but to fall silent, just as the Marquis had moments ago.
Turning her gaze away, clenching her teeth.
Dozens, hundreds of agonized thoughts passed through Delphine’s mind. She even experienced an auditory hallucination, as if hearing a rattling noise.
After a long while.
Finally, Delphine reached a conclusion.
“……I refuse.”
“Why?”
Surprisingly, the Marquis did not panic or get angry.
He simply asked back in a voice filled with pure curiosity. As if he truly could not fathom the reason.
He, too, was a person who had lived his life obsessed with victory.
He would not be able to understand Delphine’s dramatic change.
So, Delphine did not bother trying to persuade the Marquis.
“Because no wife abandons her husband.”
She simply replayed the words she had once heard from the man.
At that answer, the Marquis of Yurdina wore a blank expression for the first time.
He looked utterly stunned. For a long time, the Marquis did not even move.
A moment later.
Having barely regained his senses, the Marquis let out a hollow laugh.
“Heh, they say there’s no point in raising a daughter… Fine. If that’s the case, there is only one way.”
At those words, the old man began to walk with heavy thuds. His unhesitating steps led him to the front of the countless swords displayed on the racks.
The Marquis picked one of them and threw it toward Delphine.
The sword landed with a heavy thud and slid across the floor. Until it lightly tapped the tip of Delphine’s foot.
The old man wore a fierce smile.
“Let’s do this the Northern way.”
Those words meant only one thing.
A serious duel.
Delphine’s face tightened with tension despite herself. Because the Marquis making that proposal looked exactly like the man in her memories for the first time in a very long while.
He had the aura of the Lion of the North who knew no defeat.
On the other hand, the Marquis couldn't help but smile bitterly to himself.
That damn thief.
Originally, the target this sword should be pointed at was that fellow. He was the enemy who had snatched away the successor he had raised with such care.
But that pathetic novice would soon realize it as well. That war, after all, is not something fought alone.
One cannot change anything alone.
Yes, not alone.
* * *
Meanwhile, Leoric, who was facing Ian, was screaming within minutes.
“I-Ian… Ian Percuuuus! You vanguard of the haves!”
Light bombs and arrows were raining down from the sky. Occasional bolts of lightning struck, emitting the acrid smell of burning flesh. It was a scene that could never be produced by one person alone.
The person Leoric was hurling curses at was standing a few steps away from the carnage.
With his arms crossed, Ian thought to himself.
Life is a real battle, kid.