Chapter 114
Chapter 114
Translation: godsn
Marquess Gilifos's estate.
"Master, a letter from Her Highness the Princess."
"Tsk, look at this knight, now completely acting like a young lady."
The old veteran snorted as he extended his hand. His voice was gruff but carried strength.
"Give me Her Highness's letter first."
Rustle.
As Gilifos unfolded the letter, his expression gradually hardened.
"T-this... Is this true? That the Rebel Army is marching north to attack the Royal Castle?"
Neril nodded in response.
After confirming the scale of the Rebel Army and their direction of advance as written in the letter, Gilifos looked down at the map again.
He shook his head vigorously. He still couldn't believe it.
"Of all times... The timing and scale are truly bizarre. Where could they possibly muster so many troops in these troubled times?"
Most of the young men were already on the battlefield.
No matter how many commoners they rallied, it was impossible to gather such numbers all at once.
"The Rebel Army's leaders and some of their forces are mercenaries hired with money. They've gathered the commoners under false pretenses and brainwashing. If we deal with just them, the rest will scatter easily."
This was no ordinary uprising.
"What kind of scoundrels are trying to defile this country again!"
Gilifos slammed his fist on the table and roared.
The Princess, who had once been the Regent's puppet, had transformed overnight and begun cutting away the rotten branches one by one.
Just when he thought Valdina was finally seeing new light, these corrupt remnants still sought to ruin the country. The thought filled him with genuine outrage.
Were they blind to the young Princess's efforts to lift this crumbling nation by any means necessary?
How could everyone only think of lining their own pockets? Deep regret and fury welled up within him.
"Is it the Regent? Is he the one behind this turmoil?"
Gilifos asked abruptly.
He was well aware of the Regent's desperate situation. Even outside the Royal Castle, voices condemning him had grown loud.
"......"
"Why won't you answer? I asked if it was Claudio!"
Gilifos was almost certain.
The only vile creature selfish enough to shake the very foundations of this nation for his own gain was Joaquin Claudio.
"Marquess Gilifos loves his homeland more than anyone. But he is too rigid. What is rigid breaks easily, and I have no need for a hunter who cannot wait for the hunt."
Recalling the Princess's words, Neril met his gaze squarely.
"If I were to confirm it, Master would immediately charge to the castle and cut off his head. Then all the plans Her Highness has prepared would come to nothing."
"You insolent—"
"Do you think it ends with just the Regent disappearing? Soon, a second, a third Regent will emerge. To uproot the filth that has long taken hold in Valdina, swinging a dull blade repeatedly will achieve nothing."
"......"
Gilifos took a moment to steady his breath.
As he drew in a cold breath, his rationality settled, and he mulled over his disciple's words. He couldn't deny them.
Then Neril added,
"Her Highness has commanded that they must be prevented from entering the castle, but they should be allowed to advance all the way to the castle walls."
"Why?"
Gilifos couldn't fathom the Princess's bizarre order at all.
Wouldn't it be best to suppress the Rebel Army completely, leaving not a single spark behind?
'If mercenaries are mixed in, suppressing them won't be easy.'
In battle, the difference between those who know war and those who don't is vast.
'With the Royal Castle's current guards, who have little combat experience, stopping them will be difficult.'
But inside the castle, there were forces to reinforce them.
'The Retired Soldiers are in the castle. They have ample battlefield experience and can replace the guards as combat strength.'
Had the Princess's "plan" begun from the moment she established the Charity House to support them?
Only then did Gilifos understand Neril's words—and the Princess's unbelievable actions up to this point.
'I misjudged her terribly. I failed to recognize a ruler's caliber.'
A cold shiver ran down his aged, stiff body.
If every step she had taken had been calculated from the very beginning...
Then even this incomprehensible command must have its reasons.
"Understood. Tell her not to worry—I won't ruin things by acting rashly."
Then his role was to support the Princess. To become the large, heavy, yet powerful blade she could wield.
His wrinkled eyes finally gleamed with life. Slowly, Gilifos nodded.
"I shall make every possible preparation."
Neril bowed deeply at the waist.
"Thank you truly, Master."
Left alone, Gilifos turned his gaze toward the weapons mounted on the wall.
"Hmm... Rebels, is it..."
After carefully examining each one, he eventually picked up the most fearsome mace.
A familiar yet chilling tension ran down Gilifos's spine.
"To think this old man would wield this again in his lifetime."
His trembling voice carried an odd hint of exhilaration.
"Neril, are you heading straight to the palace?"
"No, steward. There's one more place I must visit first. Where is Tom?"
Before leaving the Gilifos estate, Neril sought out Tom.
Upon hearing he was at the training grounds, she made her way there.
The training grounds buzzed with the sounds of sparring students dripping with sweat.
"Hey there, friend. What brings you here?"
Tom, who had been instructing them in swordsmanship, greeted Neril.
"You all know Princess Valdina, right? The one I've been going on about until my lips cracked."
It seemed Tom had been quite vocal about having once served the princess.
"And this friend of mine here is her closest attendant and knight-in-waiting!"
"Whoaaa!"
A thunderous cheer erupted from the training grounds.
"Hahaha, these kids. Finally realizing how amazing your teacher is?"
Whether oblivious to Neril's piercing glare or not, Tom basked in the crowd's adulation.
Neril wore an exasperated expression.
"Tom, I have a request for you."
"From Her Highness? What is it this time? What now?"
Tom hastily shooed away the trainees, his eyes gleaming.
Instead of answering, Neril retrieved something from her robes—a small box no larger than a child's palm.
Tom opened it with a suspicious look.
Wrapped in fine, expensive paper were a lock of brown hair and a silver necklace.
"Whose hair is this?"
"Handle it with care."
"Saya, what is this?"
Even Neril hadn't been able to hide her confusion when she first saw it. It was when Medeia had gone missing during the hunt.
"It's a common superstition from the streets where I lived. If you put a lock of hair with your most treasured possession and make a wish, your family will be safe... Of course I believed Her Highness would return unharmed, but I couldn't help feeling anxious..."
The girl, who had spent long periods isolated alone in the dangerous slums, carried a deep fear of losing those beside her.
Neril understood this was Saya's way of coping with her private anxieties.
When Medeia later returned and learned the box's origins, she had gazed down at it with an unreadable expression.
"Saya, may I keep this?"
The princess pointed to the tarnished silver necklace that Saya had supposedly shared with her twin brother.
Then she offered the bracelet she'd received from Pelleus on her seventh birthday.
"Ah, but mine's so shabby! This is Your Highness's most precious treasure! You always look at it before bed!"
Though Saya repeatedly refused with deep bows, Medeia insisted on pressing the bracelet into her hands.
Neril recalled the day she first brought Saya from Asylum Street.
"Please take me with you. I don't want to stay here."
"You may come to regret having me as your mistress. Are you certain?"
She understood this was Medeia's apology to Saya.
Having exploited the girl's goodwill, she was now offering her own most cherished possession in return.
"Tom, among the rebel forces marching north toward the royal castle, there's a man named Theo."
"Rebels? So that's why you've come to the estate after so long."
Tom's face lit up with amusement as he accepted the box.
"As their chief strategist, he shouldn't be hard to find. I need you to deliver this to him secretly. Be careful not to get caught."
"You know my skills."
Tom arrogantly lifted his chin. Like any competitive warrior, he showed no trace of fear.
"Right."
Neril swallowed a sigh at Tom's ever-confident attitude, torn between amusement and disbelief.
"And there'll be no payment this time. Consider yourself warned."
"What? Really? Truly?"
Even the news of no payment couldn't dim Tom's beaming, moon-round face.
"Does this mean I'm officially one of Her Highness's people now?"
Tom's freckled cheeks puffed up with joy.
After months of abandoning expectations and finding meaning simply in carrying out the princess's orders, his wish had finally come true.
"Just leave it to me!"