Chapter 231
Gareth clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.
Thinking back on it now, the first ominous sign had been when the man who had never shown displeasure at any injustice had openly resisted becoming that bastard girl's personal guard.
At the time, Gareth had assumed Varkas simply loathed the thought of serving the daughter of the woman who had driven Bernadette to her death.
But perhaps...
Perhaps even then he had sensed it.
That one day, that girl would become someone capable of shaking him to his very core.
Unable to contain his fury, Gareth slammed his fist violently against the windowsill.
If it hadn't been for the oath he had sworn to Mother, that bastard would have turned his back on me long ago.
He recalled the moment Bernadette had bound Varkas with that sacred vow.
At that instant, Gareth had understood with absolute certainty that Varkas's fate had become tied to his own—and to Aila's.
He had never understood how such a thing was possible.
Perhaps, just as the priests had always insisted, the blood of the Khan people truly carried some sinister magic.
Even as a child, Gareth had noticed there was something uncanny about his mother.
At times she possessed intuition that bordered on prophecy.
At others, she behaved as though she could peer straight into people's hearts.
Could Mother have foreseen that Varkas would one day betray us?
Was that why she bound him with the Khan tribe's sorcery?
If the Grand Duke of Siorcan ever chose Senevier—that witch—over them, both his and Aila's positions would become dangerously precarious...
'But in the end... that bastard broke the vow.'
With bloodshot eyes, Gareth stared out the window.
The countless lights blanketing the mountainside were gradually tightening their encirclement around the fortress gates.
He had assumed the Imperial Army would stop at a safe distance.
Instead, they continued advancing directly toward the gates.
Gareth unconsciously held his breath.
At that same moment, the deep blast of a war horn announcing the enemy assault echoed across the battlefield.
“Haha... It seems the Imperial coalition has decided to abandon Your Highness after all.”
The northerner had somehow approached him from behind and let out a quiet chuckle.
Gareth glared at him furiously.
Then he noticed the murderous intent burning in the man's eyes.
His entire body stiffened.
The northerner seized Gareth by the collar with a hand thick with bulging veins and yanked him forward.
“The leadership still believes you retain some value as a hostage... but after seeing this, I'm beginning to question that judgment.”
“You insolent cur! Let go of me this inst—!”
“I think I'll drag you out in front of the gates. If those bastards refuse to withdraw peacefully, I'll cut off your head and hang it from the walls.”
Every drop of blood in Gareth's body seemed to freeze.
The man roughly dragged him toward the door.
Just then—
Something shattered outside.
A shrill scream followed.
The northerner, still hauling Gareth along like a dog, whipped his head toward the noise and roared,
“What happened?”
No answer came.
The hallway beyond the door had become deathly silent, as though the earlier commotion had never existed.
Fixing the door with a sharp stare, the northerner shoved Gareth roughly into the corner before stomping toward it.
“I asked what happened—!”
He threw the door open.
His voice stopped abruptly.
Something struck the floor with a heavy thud.
Gareth stared blankly at it.
Several seconds passed before he realized what it was.
An arm.
The man's severed arm.
Like Gareth, the northerner looked blankly down at where his arm should have been.
Then, clutching the blood-gushing stump at his elbow, he let out an agonized scream.
It didn't last long.
A long sword pierced straight through his chest.
Trying desperately to pull the blade free with his remaining hand, the northerner staggered—
—and collapsed.
Frozen in place, Gareth slowly raised his head.
A tall man stood in the doorway, his entire body drenched in blood.
Cold blue eyes glowed against his pale face as they looked down upon him.
The moment Gareth met those silver-blue eyes, he recognized him.
“V-Varkas...”
The man said nothing.
His expression completely blank, Varkas flicked the blood from his sword before sliding it back into its scabbard.
Then he gave a slight nod.
“Come outside.”
Without another word, he turned his back.
Only then did Gareth scramble to his feet.
As his numbed mind finally began functioning again, overwhelming relief surged through his entire body.
His voice rose excitedly.
“You came here yourself? To rescue me?”
“...”
“Haha... You crazy bastard! I knew it! You'd never abandon me!”
Laughing almost hysterically, Gareth snatched the cloak hanging from the wall and hastily threw it over his shoulders.
As he stepped over the corpse lying across the doorway, the corridor beyond entered his view.
His stomach lurched violently.
He barely managed to suppress the urge to vomit.
The dim hallway, illuminated only by dying torchlight, was filled with corpses.
Bodies with severed necks.
Bodies split open through the chest.
He had spent years on battlefields and thought he'd seen more than enough death.
Never anything like this.
“What the hell...”
His voice trembled.
“How many men did you bring with you?”
“...”
“And where are the other knights? Why aren't they escorting me to safety already—”
Trying to hide the fear creeping into him, Gareth deliberately raised his voice.
A hand as cold as ice suddenly grabbed him by the collar.
The next instant, he was slammed hard against the wall.
“Ghk—!”
Gareth gasped for air and stared at Varkas in shock.
His face splattered with blood, Varkas leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose.
He spoke almost in a whisper.
“Did my words amuse you?”
“W-What is this...?”
“I clearly instructed that the Northern Noble Alliance would handle suppressing the rebellion, while the Imperial Army was to withdraw to the rear.”
The chilling tone silenced Gareth immediately.
Varkas's voice became as sharp as a perfectly honed blade.
“If you're going to ignore everything I say and do the exact opposite every time...”
“...then why do you keep me by your side?”
His breath rumbled like a growl across Gareth's forehead.
Leaning even closer, Varkas spoke through clenched teeth.
“If you don't need me anymore, then say so.”
“I don't want to keep wasting myself on this.”
Gareth stared up at those piercing blue eyes, his own face drained completely of color.
Varkas tightened his grip around Gareth's neck.
His voice grew even harsher.
“Say it.”
“Tell me you don't need me.”
“Tell me you no longer want my protection.”
At that moment, Gareth understood.
Varkas wanted to free himself from the vow that bound him.
His bloodless lips trembled.
“I... I need you.”
The brilliant blue in Varkas's eyes dimmed, as though a shadow had suddenly passed over them.
Meeting his gaze directly, Gareth continued in a hoarse, broken voice.
“I... was wrong.”
“Brother...”
The childhood form of address slipped from his lips.
Immediately, the crushing grip around his neck loosened.
Holding his throat with one hand, Gareth coughed repeatedly.
Varkas watched him with dry, unreadable eyes.
Then he finally turned away.
“Follow me.”
Still leaning against the wall as he struggled to catch his breath, Gareth forced himself upright.
His weakened legs trembled as he followed after Varkas.
Then he noticed a corpse draped over the stair railing.
His gorge rose instantly.
The soldier's lower half was all that remained.
“I think this will do.”
Unconsciously searching for the missing upper body, Gareth suddenly froze.
Varkas had silently returned and was holding out a bloodstained sword.
“This is...”
“The quality isn't particularly good, but it's the best available under the circumstances.”
Gareth accepted it with stiff hands.
Judging by the worn hilt devoid of even the simplest ornament, it had belonged to one of the dead soldiers.
Looking at Varkas with obvious unease, he asked,
“...The others are waiting outside, aren't they?”
Stepping onto the blood-soaked staircase, Varkas glanced back over his shoulder.
“I am the only one assigned to escort Your Highness.”
Gareth froze as though struck by lightning.
Facing forward once more, Varkas calmly continued descending the stairs.
“I will do everything in my power to protect Your Highness.”
“But I cannot promise that we will leave this place alive.”
Gareth stared in stunned silence at the dozens of corpses scattered across the stairway and corridor.
Every single one wore heavy iron armor.
The realization of what that meant sent cold sweat trickling down his spine.
“The outside is complete chaos.”
Looking up at Gareth, who remained rooted to the stairs, Varkas added quietly,
“Prepare yourself.”
“This is going to be a very long night.”