Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Lena Rubel's Prank
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Arrows poured down from the red sky like rain. Lena's first feeling upon seeing them was bewilderment.
'Suddenly like this?'
Her father truly had the world's greatest decisiveness. Lena admired his unwavering attitude as she gazed at the incoming arrows.
'Trouble.'
The short black dagger she carried wasn't suited for deflecting the arrows. There was no cover nearby to dodge behind right away. So instead, Lena shouted loudly.
"Come here!"
At her cry, the nearby wraiths convulsed and swarmed toward her. Lena had deliberately drawn them in. She threw herself beneath them, and the arrows pierced the wraiths mercilessly in her place. Using them as shields, Lena thought.
'Does he plan to end it here?'
Confirming her father's intent, Lena bit her lip hard. Then she forced her lips into a smile.
'If that's how you want it, then I'll play along.'
***
The marquis frowned as he watched Lena hide among the wraiths.
'Using wraiths as shields.'
It was a remarkably bold move. Something only possible if you truly understood those who swallowed their first cries.
'His bond with the Southern Duke was forged in the crucible of war as comrades.'
The close ties with the Southern Duke, and the skill in utilizing those who swallowed their first cries. From these two facts, the marquis reached one conclusion. A near-certain guess that Lena had been a participant in the Silent War.
'So that's where she's been all this time...'
The marquis found his newly discovered daughter's history both ridiculous and bitter. To try devouring her father after just rolling around in a battlefield a bit.
'I definitely need to see this through to the end.'
The marquis kept his tension taut as he searched for Lena. But finding his daughter amid the shower of arrows and the howling wraiths was no easy task. Moreover, just as he thought they'd cleared a fair number of wraiths, the castle vomited out even more.
"My lord, more wraiths are swarming!"
His adjutant shouted to the marquis, who was busy searching for Lena. Just as the man said, even more wraiths were crawling up the valley. It was a momentum arrows alone couldn't halt. So the marquis ordered the knights to advance. Amid Rubid's slashing strikes that clawed the earth, the knights charged through the gaps, tangling with the wraiths. A fierce battle erupted, but the marquis still sought only Lena.
'Where are you?'
The moment when the Proxy of the Southern Duke was isolated alone in the graveyard wouldn't come again. This was the marquis's only chance.
'Where the hell...'
As the marquis scanned around, a flash of blue entered his vision. Blue, the symbol of the South. It was Lena in Southern uniform. She was desperately dodging amid the wraiths swarming the valley. Clutching and staggering on one arm, she appeared to be injured. The marquis stared at her pitiful retreating figure for a moment, then muttered unwittingly.
"Take command for a while."
"What do you mean, my lord?"
Having spotted Lena, the marquis handed command to his adjutant. The man looked troubled and asked again, but the marquis didn't retract his words.
"You knights, follow me."
Instead, he turned his horse with a small group of knights. A commander leaving his post was unthinkable. The marquis was such a man, and he had planned to delegate to his close knights if necessary. But seeing Lena's staggering back changed his mind. Rather than sending someone else, he felt he needed to finish it himself. He'd already botched it twice by entrusting others. First Clavis, then the steward. Their incompetence had left Lena alive, suffering such pain and humiliation. The marquis's heart ached at his struggling daughter's sight. So he set all else aside and pursued her to end it with his own hands.
. . .
As the battle in the valley intensified, Lena moved toward the castle to escape the fighting. By then, her uniform was torn to shreds without a single intact spot. Just looking at the clothes told you her body was far from unscathed. In the midst of it, Lena came face-to-face with the marquis and looked at her father with a deeply troubled expression.
"You're hurt."
"...It's not a serious injury."
Lena answered softly to the marquis's question. Her voice was filled with wariness. They stood atop the crumbling castle walls of the castle of the King Who Swallowed His First Cry. Lena had climbed here to escape the battlefield, and the marquis had chased her up the ridge with the Northern knights. Thus encountering father and daughter ignored the inferno below and silently regarded each other.
"You're a far cry from all that bluster."
The marquis spoke first. Indeed, Lena's current state was so pathetic it bordered on absurd. She'd demanded a chance for forgiveness, forced her way to the vanguard alone, and now she was like this. It almost seemed like a trap. As the marquis gazed at his deficient daughter with a hardened face, Lena whispered while clutching her right shoulder.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"No."
"Then..."
"The wraiths will kill you."
The marquis declared firmly and signaled his knights. Knights more loyal to Rubel than even to the Northern king or the emperor silently dismounted. Then they drew their swords and slowly surrounded Lena. As the knights closed in, Lena raised her sword as well. But she gripped it only with her left hand; for some reason, her right hand didn't move an inch. From how she'd been clutching her shoulder earlier, it seemed she'd injured her arm tangling with the wraiths. The marquis watched this impassively, then murmured softly.
"Go in peace."
Immediately, the knights charged. One against many, dagger versus longswords. And Lena Rubel, injured to boot. The outcome was obvious. Yet Lena put up a respectable fight despite her battered state. She barely deflected an incoming knight's sword, then pressed her back to the castle wall and called out to the marquis.
"Father."
At the word "Father," the knights' swords paused briefly. But that wasn't what the marquis wanted. As he urged the knights on, Lena spoke first.
"You won't regret it?"
"Regret?"
"Even if I die right in front of you, you'll really feel nothing?"
At the fleeting question, the marquis furrowed his brow. Such detached poise in this moment. It confused him. Was it mere bravado, or was she hiding something? Uneasy about her attitude, the marquis replied.
"It's all your own doing."
"What did I do so wrong?"
"If you wanted to live, you shouldn't have crossed my path."
"You're wrong, Father. It's not just about wanting to live."
Lena shook her head. Then she whispered to her father's icy face.
"I want to exist. With the name Lena Rubel that you gave me."
At Lena's calm voice, the marquis became certain. She was dangerous. Even setting aside the evidence of treason, that bizarre obsession alone made her plenty dangerous. He knew well what became of people with such attachments.
"Finish it."
With the resolve to cut down a budding weed, the marquis prodded his knights. At his firm command, Lena smiled sadly. Then suddenly, she shouted.
"Come here!"
At Lena's cry, nearby wraiths howled and rushed in. But the knights didn't panic. It was the exact same trick she'd used earlier to dodge the arrows. No need to be surprised again. The knights charged straight at Lena, planning to deal with her first then handle the rest. At that, a pitying smile spread across Lena's lips. Regrettable for the marquis, but what Lena had called wasn't just wraiths. Would Prince Rubid realize the marquis had left his position? Even if he did, he wouldn't know this remote spot. And over there, with knights and wraiths tangled in combat, the slashing strikes had noticeably decreased. So what would the now-idle Prince Rubid do?
'Strike the wraiths farther away.'
Lena predicted it easily, and it played out perfectly. Following the swarm of wraiths, Rubid's slashing strike came flying. Ping—a sharp whistling sound—and the wraiths charging at Lena were bisected. The castle wall where Lena and the marquis stood was also shredded and began to tilt.
"Urk!"
The ground gave way, and earth and debris came crashing down. The knights were swept away in an instant, and the marquis, still on horseback, barely yanked the reins. But it was useless. The horse toppled backward, flinging him off. Before the fallen marquis stretched a dizzying void. What followed was inevitable: a fall. The marquis sensed death.
'Why...'
Despair-like gravity poured down. Then came the sensation of his guts lurching upward. All that remained was the plunge. But just as the full drop was about to begin, his body jerked to a halt. Intense pain shot through his shoulder and waist.
"Too bad. You failed again."
Before the marquis could grasp the situation, a calm voice came from above.
"Both killing me and earning forgiveness."
The marquis looked up. The first thing he saw was the hand gripping his wrist. Behind it was Lena's smiling face, and beyond that, her other hand clinging to the castle wall. In a situation barely manageable for one person, Lena was holding on while also supporting the marquis. He stared at her clear face, then muttered without much surprise.
"I thought your arm was injured."
"Just playing around."
"...Since when?"
"Probably from the start?"
Lena's voice was relaxed. The moment her father spotted her, he'd unleashed a barrage of arrows, so she'd pretended to be hurt for a bit. Otherwise, they wouldn't have met like this. Her prediction had hit the mark perfectly. Lena found it both enjoyable and poignant.
"You're not mad, right? Of course not."
As the marquis just stared silently, Lena smiled and asked. Then she added reassuringly.
"I'm not mad either. After all, I was the one who offered you the chance."
With that, Lena pulled the marquis up. Using the recoil, she flung her father upward like tossing something, then lightly climbed onto the castle wall herself. Standing flawlessly as if by magic, Lena spoke to the marquis, who still couldn't rise.
"And I said I wouldn't harm you until the graveyard conquest is over."
Not harm him? After raining arrows and encircling him with swords, now just let him be. It wasn't generosity—it was vicious. There wasn't a shred of pity in the mercy Lena extended. She was utterly cold, like a grand inquisitor tallying sins while awaiting the hour. The marquis gazed endlessly at the composedly smiling Lena. Though the situation had reversed, his face was only slightly paler; he remained calm.
'So that's what you are...'
The lingering doubt in a corner of his heart had cleared, leaving him almost relieved. The young daughter returned from a hell where time didn't flow. A child who endured on the battlefield without connections, chosen by the Southern Duke. Surviving every time when she should have died, now challenging her father to try killing her—Lena Rubel. The marquis wanted to kill her even as he grew curious. Just how had that child made it this far? What gave her such arrogance? He finally realized the truth of what he'd long wondered. Just as Clavis had said.
'You really have become a monster.'
Lena Rubel had returned as a monster. A ferocious one that toyed with her marquis father in the palm of her hand.
"What will you do now?"
The monster said.
"Try killing me again?"
And she laughed.