Chapter 110
Chapter 110
Translation: godsn
Campane Great Plain.
In the early dawn, a fierce battle raged between the allied tribes of the plains and the Valdina army.
Having witnessed the fall of the Lasai Tribe, the remaining tribes had united in the realization that they would be next—and launched a surprise attack on the Valdina forces.
Azure blood dripped steadily from the blades of Pelleus and his Royal Guard.
"Haah... Your Majesty. The enemy numbers are steadily increasing. Leave this place to us and prepare to retreat."
Dianzel wiped away the sweat streaming down his face as he spoke.
A sense of crisis hung heavy in the air—if they weren't careful, they might not break through the densely encircling siege.
"I cannot abandon my soldiers and flee alone. Has the reinforcement not arrived yet?"
As if the stifling heat of the battlefield did not touch him, Pelleus' expression remained cool.
"That's correct, Your Majesty. The enemy's density is growing thicker by the moment. Captain, allow me to escort His Majesty and carve a path to retreat."
"I leave it to you."
Dianzel nodded at the words of Pavel, the vice-captain of the Agema.
"......."
"Your Majesty, there's no time to hesitate! If you fall here, we'll all be slaughtered like dogs!"
Pavel shouted, having caught the flicker of hesitation in the king's blue eyes.
Enemy soldiers collapsed like wheat before a scythe under Pavel's ruthless blade.
The saying that a single Agema warrior could hold off two hundred enemy soldiers was no exaggeration—they had proven it firsthand on this vast plain.
"Your Majesty, this way!"
Having shaken off the pursuers, Pavel pointed toward the mountains in the highlands. Pelleus nodded—they needed to assess the sudden shift in the battle's momentum.
Pelleus turned his horse and spurred it forward, following Pavel.
"Your Majesty, over here."
As they entered a densely wooded area, Pavel signaled that the target was within range.
'Forgive me, Your Majesty. The Regent insists that your life must end here.'
The place where Pavel was leading Pelleus now was an ambush site, teeming with assassins.
The moment the King set foot there, he would never return to Valdina alive.
Gazing at the face of his lord, who trusted him without the slightest doubt, Pavel offered a silent apology.
'Forgive me, my comrades. No reinforcements will come. I sent them different orders.'
Pavel turned his body slightly, staring toward the encampment where the battle still raged fiercely.
In exchange for betraying his lord and brothers-in-arms, Pavel had been promised the rank of general.
Not that the treatment of the Agema within the Royal Guard was poor—but the Regent's offer of a lifelong title, wealth, and lineage was incomparable.
"Your Majesty, it would be best to take cover over there and assess the situation first."
"Very well."
Without hesitation, Pelleus stepped forward.
But nothing happened.
'Strange... I definitely sent the signal.'
"Allow me to go ahead first."
Bewildered, Pavel dismounted and walked ahead.
Yet still, nothing occurred.
'What in the world...?'
The moment he scanned the area, his blood ran cold.
Lying in the ditches were the corpses of the assassins who had lain in ambush—all dead.
"Not the sight you were hoping for, Pavel?"
A cold voice spoke from behind, and in the same instant, Dianzel's sword came down upon Pavel.
Thud.
Pavel fell to his knees.
"Traitor! What did you hope to gain by selling out your lord and brothers?!"
Why was the captain, who should have been fighting the tribes, here...?
Only then did Pavel see them—his former comrades emerging one by one from behind the dead assassins.
From below the mountain, cheers erupted.
Unconsciously, Pavel turned his head toward the sound.
There, as if they had never struggled at all, Pelleus' army was crushing the allied tribes.
The reinforcements that should have been marching south by now due to Pavel's deception came flooding in like a tidal wave, sweeping away the enemies.
As if the precarious battles fought until now had been nothing but a feint.
"H-how... how is this...?"
"I wanted to confirm it. Whether you had truly turned your back on us."
Pelleus's cold eyes indifferently looked down at Pavel.
"Ten years of loyalty, wasted."
"Y-Your Majesty, p-please, spare me... I—"
Before Pavel could even finish his plea, Pelleus's blade descended without hesitation.
His head fell, rolling across the ground.
A fittingly wretched end for a traitor.
"We've caught the spy!"
Standing over Pavel's corpse, Dianzel roared triumphantly.
"W-we surrender! King of Valdina, grant us mercy!"
At last, the chieftains knelt.
The ambush and coordinated attack the tribal alliance had ambitiously prepared ended in utter failure.
Contrary to their hopes, the alliance had only succeeded in gathering the scattered tribes across the plains—only to be crushed in a single stroke.
At the crossroads of life and death, their choice was obvious.
Pelleus stepped forward.
Before him lay the vast, fertile land—where Valdina would finally spread its wings freely.
Father, I have fulfilled your wish.
Pelleus bent down and pressed his lips to the earth.
An aura of reverence, untouchable by mortal hands, emanated from the young king.
At last, Valdina's banner was planted upon this land.
"Uwaaaah!"
"We won! The war is over!"
It was Valdina's victory—the final curtain on a decade of war.
"Had Her Highness the Princess not forewarned us, the Agema would have been annihilated in this battle."
Standing over the spy's severed head, Dianzel shook his head as if dizzy with disbelief.
Who could have imagined that the insular plains tribes would unite, or that their trusted vice-captain would betray them, joining hands with the Regent?
Even Pelleus would have struggled to escape this layered, multi-pronged trap.
And even if he had somehow broken through the encirclement and survived, losing the Agema—the elite royal guard—would have...
It would have been a hollow victory, worse than defeat.
Dianzel marveled.
"Could Her Highness Medeia have awakened divine powers? How else could she have seen this battlefield, thousands of leagues away from Valdina, as clearly as the palm of her hand?"
"Dianzel, watch your tongue."
For the first time, a voice sharp as winter frost cut through. Her beautiful face was solemn, leaving no room for doubt.
If rumors spread that Medeia possessed foresight, the Holy Kingdom would be the first to come knocking.
They had always been desperate for the birth of a Saintess—one who could strengthen the faith of the Old Religion across the continent.
"Finally, the war is over... and I can see Dea again."
Pelleus had no intention of letting his sister be taken away by the Holy Kingdom again—not when he had only just managed to reunite with her.
Just then, an advisor rushed over.
They had finished assembling the personnel and troops needed to stabilize the newly conquered territory under Pelleus's orders.
"Your Majesty, preparations are complete. We must send word of our victory back to the capital."
"No need."
Pelleus shook his head.
Instead of basking in triumph, he mounted his horse once more.
How long had he waited for this day?
What he had yearned for was not the moment of victory—but the moment he could fulfill his father's will and return to his sister.
And now that it was done, he hesitated no longer.
"Return to Valdina."
"UWAAAAAH!"
The soldiers roared in unison.
After years wandering these unfamiliar, barren lands, their longing for home had reached its peak.
"We're going back! Finally, back to our homeland!"
"To my country—UWAAAAH!"
The audience hall of Valdina's Royal Palace.
An unprecedented line stretched before the white marble building.
All were commoners who had gathered to see Medeia.
No one knew how deeply they had grieved and agonized when news spread that the princess who had defied Kazen to protect their kingdom had disappeared after being chased by a pack of wolves.
But then, not long ago, she had returned alive and unharmed to the Royal Castle.
Overcome with gratitude, they had steeled their resolve and made the long journey past the towering palace walls to this audience hall today.
From medicinal herbs they had personally dried upon hearing rumors of her injuries in the hunting grounds, to meticulously embroidered patchwork quilts made while praying for her safe return—they eagerly presented gifts wishing the princess fortune and health.
"Next!"
Inside the hall, a woman in humble attire with an apron stood nervously on the red carpet.
When her turn came, she stepped forward anxiously and carefully set down the wooden basket she had been cradling.
"W-well, I heard Her Highness the Princess ordered relief supplies to be distributed starting from the outer districts of the Fourth Zone. Thanks to that, my children didn't have to go hungry."
The woman bowed deeply in gratitude as she extended the wooden basket.
"My circumstances are poor, so I have nothing worthy to offer Your Highness... I'm ashamed... but I couldn't just stand by..."
When the cloth covering the basket was lifted, fluffy chicks poked out their tiny beaks.
Medeia's gaze shifted between the woman's appearance and the chicks.
Chicks weren't particularly valuable livestock.
But for struggling commoners, they were precious assets that could be raised into chickens—for food or income.
The fact that there were only three showed just how much this gift must have cost her.
"How adorable these chicks are. But if I take them as they are, they'll likely become food for the palace cats... What should I do...?"
Medeia pretended to ponder for a moment before clapping her hands together.
"How about this? This basket is truly well-crafted. I'll accept this as the vessel of your heartfelt gift. Please take the chicks back and raise them into chickens."
When Medeia signaled Neril with a glance, the maid quickly took only the basket and returned the chicks in a sturdy wooden box.
"Thank you. Your Highness... You truly are Valdina's light."
The woman's face was overcome with emotion.
She realized the princess had not only preserved her dignity but also thoughtfully considered her circumstances.
Medeia warmly welcomed each commoner who came to the hall, listening attentively to their hardships.
"Th-thank you, Your Highness. And... forgive me, Your Highness..."
That the kingdom's sole princess would personally bow to meet them at eye level filled the people with both awe and guilt.
Despite being slandered as bleeding the commoners dry, the young princess had never hesitated to risk her life to carve out their survival.
Even when her vicious uncle had threatened her very existence.
The tragic fate of the young princess, who had never known peace, struck a chord in their hearts.
"Your Highness, you must never fall to scum like the Regent!"
"O goddess, protect Her Highness the Princess from the clutches of those swine-like villains!"
Their words were rough, their gifts simple.
Yet the princess nodded with a smile, as if understanding the sincerity behind their efforts.
Touched by her magnanimity, they praised her even more and raised their voices in condemnation of the Regent.
'How amusing that the day has come when my uncle and I have switched positions.'
Medeia's emerald eyes took on a cold glint, though she never lost her smile until the last visitor had departed.
From the moment of her return, the commoners' perception of the princess had changed.
Now, wherever one went in the Royal Castle, praises for Medeia and curses against the Regent could be heard.
'Will my uncle truly endure this shift?'
Medeia recalled the Regent's appearance when he had bowed to the Queen Dowager's command to cane Samon on the day of her return.
More precisely—the trembling fist he had hidden beneath his sleeve.
'He's not the type to endure it. Most likely... he'll try to overturn the board.'
"To turn Medeia back into a villainess, and myself back into a hero."
But with his impoverished imagination, he could only come up with one solution.
'That would probably be...'
At that moment, a lavish bouquet of fully bloomed flowers filled Medeia's vision.
The sweet floral scent tickled the tip of her nose.
The soft, beautiful clusters of pink roses were almost blinding in their brilliance.
"Your Highness."
The voice of the last remaining guest resonated in Medeia's ears.
Standing on the red carpet, Iason was smiling while holding an extravagant bouquet.
"Might I also request an audience?"
His handsome features, rich voice, and classical elegance—
He was the very picture of a flawless imperial prince, without a single blemish to be found.
"...What brings the Grand Duke here?"
"I heard I might see Your Highness if I came, so I dared to intrude. Seeing everyone else bringing heartfelt gifts, I couldn't very well come empty-handed..."
Iason gave an awkward smile as he lightly brushed back his bangs.
The maids around them couldn't tear their eyes away from the sight of the handsome man shyly holding flowers.
Iason took another step closer to Medeia.
"I do hope you like them."
Though his words were humble, Medeia, who had lived a lifetime with him, could tell he was brimming with confidence.
"Neril."
At Medeia's slight nod, Neril stepped forward, took the bouquet in her stead, and retreated.
The picturesque expression on Iason's face stiffened slightly.
He hadn't anticipated that she wouldn't even lay a hand on the flowers he'd gifted her.
"I'm so relieved you're unharmed. I was truly worried."
But Iason quickly regained his composure.
"You can't imagine how much I regretted the day you disappeared. Had I been more cautious, you wouldn't have had to suffer such hardships..."
His voice thick with sorrow, his eyes brimming with genuine concern.
The Iason of her past life had been just like this.
His tenderness had seemed to quench Medeia's thirst for affection.
Back then, she had been so starved for it that she lost her senses. How foolish. How pathetic.
"Why would the Grand Duke of Castulo feel that way?"
Medeia's voice was unusually gentle as she questioned him. Iason thought he'd found a crack in the princess's defenses.
'She must be wounded, knowing the Regent she trusted tried to kill her.'
"Your Highness, I understand. We are truly alike. I, too, was once betrayed by the family I trusted most."
Even as he spoke words meant to console the princess, a surge of joy welled up from the depths of Iason's heart.
He was delighted to share this common ground with the beautiful girl before him.
"Medeia, please call me Iason. We could be friends who understand each other's pain."
As if drawn by something, Iason took yet another step closer—
"...Grand Duke Castulo, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
A voice so icy it might as well have poured freezing water over Iason cut through the air.
There was unmistakable bewilderment on the princess's face.
Her indifferent gaze, as if to say, What does this have to do with me? seemed to claw at Iason's heart.
"You're free to seek friendship by offering such gifts, Grand Duke."
After a pause so brief it might have split a breath, her quiet voice continued.
"But the family I trust most—His Majesty the King of Valdina, my brother—has never once betrayed me."
The princess smiled faintly.
"He is neither an incompetent fool brimming with ambition yet devoid of ability, nor a hypocrite who leeches off others, nor a beast who harms his own flesh and blood."
Was that fleeting emotion in her beautiful eyes hatred? Or mockery?
It passed too quickly for Iason to be certain.
"So, please refrain from weaving threads of understanding between you and me with such words."
Having spoken, the princess turned and left without another word.
"......"
Left alone, Iason's fingertips trembled faintly.
Though her words hadn't been explicitly aimed at him, each one struck his cheeks and back as mercilessly as a whip.
"Ghk...!"
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his chest. Iason staggered, clutching at his heart.
The inexplicable agony, as though its sole purpose was to torment him, refused to subside for a long while.