Chapter 80
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 80
Barkas crossed the lush green meadow, feeling as though he had stepped onto foreign soil for the first time.
Atop the gently rolling hills, dozens of plump foals and mares grazed peacefully.
“Over a hundred foals were born on this ranch this year alone. All of them carry the bloodline of the famous steeds of Mount Nornek,” Daren Dru Sieorkan explained from behind, his voice thick with pride.
Barkas turned to look at the man. Daren’s rigid features gave him a stubborn, weathered impression. “What is the count for trained warhorses?”
“There are three thousand on this ranch alone. If you include the northern ranch, the total should be around six thousand three hundred.”
“That is fewer than what was reported.”
At Barkas’s remark, a flush of red crept up Daren’s neck.
“You were in the central region, Young Lord. It is realistically difficult to relay every minor detail beyond the regular reports,” the man added defensively, averting his eyes. “A month ago, a horse ranch in the northeastern region suffered heavy damage from a Zram raid. We lost a significant number of usable warhorses in the retaliatory battles that followed.”
Barkas furrowed his brow. “Why was this not reported to the Imperial Household?”
“Why bother when we can handle it ourselves?” Daren shrugged with an indifferent expression. “It was His Excellency the Grand Duke’s philosophy that Eastern problems should be solved by Easterners. The vassals agreed.”
“The East is also the territory of the Roem Empire,” Barkas countered dryly. “We are citizens of the Empire. Just as the East owes loyalty to the Imperial Household, the Imperial Household has a duty to protect the people of the East.”
Daren fell silent, an instinctive repulsion toward the word ‘protect’ flashing across his face. The warriors of the Khan people, possessed of a fierce, almost volatile self-esteem, viewed external support as a humiliation.
Instead of correcting that misguided notion, Barkas turned his horse toward the village located at the foot of the hill.
Most of the residents living outside the castle walls led harsher lives than the city dwellers. As proof, the buildings lined up along the muddy dirt road were uniformly old and shabby.
He scanned the area with an indifferent gaze when something suddenly caught his eye.
Barkas narrowed his eyes and spurred his horse toward the center of the village. There, he saw something hanging from a large tree in the square.
As he drew closer, the shapes became clear. Three corpses, which appeared to have been dead for some time and were beginning to rot into a sickly purple hue, hung limp with ropes around their necks.
“They must be the heretics executed a few days ago,” Daren said, wrinkling his nose at the stench.
Barkas turned to him. “Are heretical forces spreading in Kalmor?”
“As you know, Young Lord, many Easterners cannot let go of their folk beliefs. Among them are those who revere spirits as gods or are steeped in superstition.” The man let out a heavy sigh. “Accusations regarding heretics have been on the rise lately. It is likely due to the frequent conflicts with the Zram people. They are all obsessed with spirit worship, after all. Because animosity toward heretics has intensified, religious trials are occurring frequently at the village level.”
“In just a few years, the region has become a mess.”
A look of displeasure crossed Daren’s face. As if trying to hide it, he forced a smile and shrugged his broad shoulders.
“His Excellency the Grand Duke has been bedridden for a long time. It couldn’t be helped.”
Barkas looked up at the bodies with a pensive expression before gesturing to his subordinates.
“If left like that, there is a high probability they will turn into ghouls. Take the bodies down and perform a simple funeral rite.”
Daren arched his thick eyebrows. “For heretics?”
Barkas fixed him with a chilling gaze. “Do I have to say it twice?”
After staring at him intently for a moment, Daren barked at the assembled knights. “What are you doing? Follow the Young Lord’s orders at once!”
The men immediately dismounted and cut the ropes.
The corpses hit the dirt floor with a heavy thud.
Barkas looked down at one of the heads, which was twisted at an odd angle as if the neck had snapped during the fall. Maggots swarmed inside the hollow sockets where the eyes had been plucked out, and every tooth had been pulled from the mouth. The lips themselves had been carved away with a knife. These were all measures taken to prevent ghoulification.
Corpses that did not undergo a purification ritual had a high chance of rising as undead; for that reason, heretics often had their eyes, teeth, and even fingernails removed.
What a waste of effort...
Ghouls could use tools depending on their memories from when they were alive. To truly prevent the danger, it was better to incinerate the bodies completely or perform a proper purification ritual.
He watched the soldiers drag the three bodies to a corner of the clearing, then turned his head to scan the shabbily dressed farmers gathered on one side of the square. Most looked terrified, but a few wore expressions of simmering discontent.
He pointed at one of them. “You. Go fetch a priest right now.”
The designated man shuffled hesitantly toward the chapel located on the edge of the village.
Soon after, a priest came running and performed a simple purification ritual.
Barkas watched the scene quietly, then left instructions to bury the bodies in a suitable place before leading his horse out of the village.
It was then that a discarded wooden statue at the end of the wide path caught his eye.
A statue of a three-headed dog—no, a wolf—lay abandoned on the trail leading to the Argand Forest, split down the middle by an axe blade.
It was a blatant sign of a curse.
Daren, discovering it late, stiffened and shouted at the soldiers. “Clear that away immediately!”
Barkas looked down at the statue with a calm gaze before turning his eyes back toward the village. Seeing as it had been placed there to coincide with their visit, it was clearly an act born of someone’s malice.
He let out a dry laugh.
It seems there are those who are not pleased by my return.
Whether it was the work of superstitious heretics or a provocation by anti-imperial forces, he couldn’t tell, but he had a feeling that life here would not be easy.
“Shall we search for the culprit?” Daren asked, gauging his reaction.
Barkas pulled on the reins and shook his head lightly. “Leave it. What would we gain by making a fuss over a single statue other than becoming a laughingstock?”
The man swallowed a sigh and nodded. “I suppose that’s true.”
Though he agreed for now, Daren couldn’t seem to quell his anger. His eyes were fierce as he looked back at the village. Barkas suspected the man might take his subordinates and cause a scene later.
Though he had only observed him for a short time, Daren possessed a particularly bellicose temperament, even among the cavalry warriors.
Barkas felt a strange wave of fatigue wash over him and spurred his horse forward.
By the time they arrived back at Raedgo Castle, the sun was dipping toward the west.
Barkas hopped down from his horse, handed the reins to the stable keeper, and crossed the wide training ground. As he entered the main castle, the head butler, who had been directing the servants, came running out to meet him.
“You have returned, Young Lord.”
He acknowledged the greeting with a nod, passed through the bustling hall, and stepped onto the stairs.
The butler followed hurriedly behind him. “The lords of several regions are here to see you.”
Barkas frowned and looked back. “Regional lords?”
“They are the vassals who oversee the southeastern region,” the man added cautiously. “It seems they have come to make an impression before you hold the succession ceremony.”
Barkas lightly rubbed his chin with his gloved hand, then continued up the stairs, speaking nonchalantly. “Prepare a banquet for the guests. I will head to the hall after I change.”
“Um...”
He was heading toward his bedroom on the second floor when the head butler trailed off.
Barkas looked at him over his shoulder.
After hesitating for a long moment, the man spoke carefully. “I was wondering if your wife would also be able to attend the evening banquet...”
Barkas narrowed his eyes.
Sensing the shift in mood, the head butler spoke quickly, as if treading on thin ice. “Is she not the one who will soon be the mistress of the Grand Duke’s household? Everyone is curious to know what kind of person she is. However, she has not left her chambers all day...”
“Head Butler.”
Barkas cut him off in a low, dangerous voice.
“Do you believe Her Imperial Highness should endure discomfort just to satisfy the curiosity of my relatives or servants?”
The color drained from the butler’s face. Barkas added coldly.
“Her Highness suffered a major accident only a few months ago. She has just completed a grueling journey of several weeks before her body has fully recovered. She needs to recuperate, so tell everyone not to bother her with trivial matters.”