Chapter 1: 1

Chapter 1

Dead bodies were piled on the ground. Some would be burned, the rest would become food for the eagles.

In his bloodstained armor, Lesaric Horn looked numbly at the dreary scene.

In this burning land, no grass could breathe and all the dead were silent. The survivors had sensed the end of the war and were diligently trying to move on. Their lively spirits made an eerie contrast to their surroundings.

Lesaric pulled his gaze away from the distance and looked in front of him. There were several eyes closed. The heads displayed right in front of him were clean, as if the breath of those who had just been killed still stirred in their bodies.

It must be the cold.

Everyone must have had a hunch that today would be the last battle because both sides had risked everything this time. The knights and soldiers, the volunteers—they had poured everything into this.

But each side reacted to this revelation differently. The soldiers of Terrosa had realized their victory and were full of confidence, moving forward without fear. Meanwhile, the soldiers of Estonia had succumbed to defeat even before the battle had started.

Those of Estonia were used to the war, which made sense since they had been pushing swords at each other for a long time. They were no regular soldiers, most of them had been commanders or even more. Now, their lives had been lost to Terrosa and their deaths had marked a victory that was not theirs to claim.

Terrosa would milk their win for all it was worth, they would seek great reparations when they reached the negotiating table with Estonia. It was a victory beyond victory, and it was all theirs.

Still, seeing death always felt strange to Lesaric.

“Commander-in-chief!” someone called out.

Lesaric turned, his dark hair drifting slightly over his neat forehead. Under thick eyebrows his deep blue eyes stared, his high nose and hard chin shaded by the light behind him.

Even if the battle had ended quite some time ago, he couldn’t seem to get rid of the bloody armor that made his body seem surprisingly large. Thanks to his long limbs, he didn’t seem thick.

Barmantium approached him hurriedly. He tried to swallow his gasp as he looked around them. It all seemed like a scene stolen from myth.

Bowing before Lesaric, Barmantium held something out to the commander. “A message has arrived from Libron.”

Lesaric took the letter from Barmantium and examined it. The king’s seal—the ring of wisdom—shone in the center of the envelope.

Barmantium watched anxiously as Lesaric opened the envelope and read the letter slowly. The commander’s face remained expressionless and so Barmantium assumed that the contents of the letter could not be bad news.

“Will the king bestow you a title?” he asked. “A title for your great victories and unprecedented achievements in this war?”

Lesaric looked up, face still blank. “They want Artois to handle the post-war negotiations with Estonia and they want me to return to Libron.”

Barmantium was stunned. “What?” he asked. “But why?”

Calmly, Lesaric folded the letter and tucked it away. “We’ll know soon.”

Soldiers came up behind them and picked up the heads of the dead to handle the remains and the corpses. There was no more blood, what with the cold. They just seemed like trivial objects to pick up and discard as needed.

Lesaric stared at the dead bodies and felt no empathy, not when it seemed his future would be no different.

He handed over the negotiations to Dorthua Artois. Originally Artois had been the farthest from the actual battlefield, in a very safe place, and it seemed like he only came in at the end to claim the victory.

“I’ll finish up the negotiations perfectly,” Artois said, smiling. It had sent a chill up the spines of Lesaric’s knights. A man like Artois smiling was never a good thing. “I’ll gnaw at them persistently for the western regions. You’ve already done everything you can, Sir.”

“Thank you,” Lesaric murmured, not really caring for this conversation.

The other knights were disturbed by how Artois was speaking as if he had claimed their victory and not Lesaric. But the commander simply bowed and said his final goodbyes before turning to leave.

“Sir Lesaric—” Barmantium was about to speak but Lesaric shook his head. With Dorthua Artois around, it would be better for everyone if they spoke less.

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She tied up her soft blond hair and put on a dark dress. The dress was neat, without any flashy embroideries or anything fancy. Then, she finished her look with simple blue earrings.

She had decided to attend dinner at Libron. It had been a long time since she had gone and, even if she was a forgotten princess, she had to maintain her public appearance.

It was hard to pretend to be innocent.

She yawned, her lips falling into a smile as soon as the doors opened.

“Delmore,” the king greeted as she stepped inside. He seemed pleased to see his daughter in a way he never had been before. He might have been softening with age or he might have only been pleased by Delmore’s research on treatment methods. Either way, he seemed pleased.

In the room were the king’s second wife Luya Marie, the two princes Clement and Valerie, and Princess Haylian. They were all looking at Delmore who bowed before them.

“Your majesty,” she said.

Clement, schooling his face into a polite smile, said, “You’re late, sister.”

Delmore smiled back. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “It seems I didn’t keep track of the time.”

She sat down and dinner at the table began, with knives hidden in each person’s hearts and mouths.

The food was as splendid as expected, with it being contributed by the noble families of Terrosa. The exotic ingredients and fragrant alcohol all mixed in perfect harmony.

Delmore kept quiet while everyone else at the table played a game, exchanging pointed conversation and keeping each other in check. Then, Luya Marie asked Delmore a question, forcing her into speaking.

“Delmore, how is the research about aging going?” she asked.

Everyone turned their gaze to her.

“There hasn’t been much progress,” she told them. “We’re still lacking technology to refine materials. I hope to make a breakthrough soon, but I don’t know if I will.”

“Shouldn’t His Majesty see some benefit from you at least once?” Luya Marie asked.

Ah, Delmore thought to herself. They’re not fighting amongst themselves today. They’ve decided to take risks.

She pretended to look away, ashamed. “That’s true.”

Haylian changed the conversation. “Will you be sending Lesaric Horn away soon, Your Majesty?”

Delmore perked up at that. Lesaric Horn, she thought. He was the general of Yeft who became the commander-in-chief in their war against Estonia. He was known to be quite capable. Why would the king send him away?

“But why would you do that?” she asked, genuinely interested. “He served well in the war with Estonia. He hasn’t been brainwashed or proven to be disloyal.”

The king barely acknowledged her. “He’s the only one my orders don’t go through.”

Luya Marie nodded. “That’s reason enough.”

“I’ve summoned him to Libron,” the king said. “He’ll be arriving soon. I’ll send him to Yeft and, if he doesn’t listen, I’ll ask him to choose where his loyalties lie.”

Delmore lowered her silverware. She had lost her appetite.

If Lesaric returned, he was as good as dead.

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