Chapter 221
To think the report he had been waiting for ever since regaining consciousness amounted to nothing more than this.
Considering the endless incidents and disasters she had caused, he could not say he failed to understand his vassals' detached attitude. Even so, he could not suppress the irritation welling up inside him.
He tossed the parchment into the soldiers' campfire and turned his cold gaze toward Daren.
“Prepare a separate escort.”
“You mean...?”
“As soon as the withdrawal is complete, I'm going to Kalmor.”
“Understood. I'll finish the handover immediately and have the knights standing by.”
After giving a slight bow, Daren headed toward the section of the camp occupied by the Wolfram Cavalry.
Varkas silently watched the parchment blacken and curl in the flames before turning back toward the tent where the commanders were gathered.
* * *
Once the Northern Noble Alliance's force of roughly eight thousand heavily armored warriors had finished establishing its positions, Varkas left part of the Imperial elite troops in the rear and led the remaining army toward the southern edge of the Jotungar Mountains.
The objective was to seal every route leading to the rebels' stronghold.
After stationing troops along every path capable of transporting supplies, he established new Alliance fortifications along the border between the East and the North.
It was the ideal position—close enough to reinforce the Northern Noble Alliance immediately should the tide of battle turn against them, while simultaneously preventing the enemy from escaping by any alternate route.
Bjorn Blodar Heimdal was now little more than a rat trapped in a cage.
Varkas slipped a hand beneath his coat and brushed the scar that still marked his side.
It was the first defeat he had suffered since being knighted.
It was not that he lacked the desire to repay that humiliation with his own hands.
But Bjorn's destruction was already inevitable.
A man consumed by reckless ambition, who had plunged the entire North into the misery of war. Resenting the desperate struggles of someone who had brought about his own ruin through sheer foolishness seemed almost laughable.
His eyes filled with cold mockery as he gazed at the harsh yet majestic ridges of the Jotungar Mountains before finally turning his horse around.
Throughout the vast encampment stretching along the mountain range fluttered the banners of the noble houses that had sworn loyalty to the Imperial House.
After sweeping his gaze across dozens of brightly colored standards, he urged his horse forward and rode toward the end of the camp.
The commanders he had appointed to succeed him were already lined up before the checkpoint.
Standing among them, speaking with several knights, Daren noticed his arrival and immediately made his way through the soldiers.
“The entire handover has been completed. You may depart now.”
“I'll return once Raina's engagement ceremony is over.”
“There is no need to rush back. You're still suffering the aftereffects of your injuries.”
Standing close beside his horse so that no one else could overhear, Daren lowered his voice.
Varkas frowned.
He had not expected Daren to notice.
“Don't concern yourself with things here. Remain in the East for the time being and get some proper rest.”
Daren's voice was firm.
Varkas studied him in silence before finally letting out a quiet sigh and turning his horse.
“If anything happens, report it immediately through the emergency communication network.”
With that, he rode through the checkpoint and followed the gently sloping ridge leading eastward.
Thirty knights clad in black iron armor followed behind him in two orderly columns.
They did not reach the eastern frontier until sunset.
After carefully inspecting the conditions of Tarlin and the surrounding eastern frontier settlements, Varkas continued southeast with his men the following day.
When they finally reached Kalmor, a vast prairie touched by the first breath of spring unfolded before his eyes.
For a fleeting moment, Varkas felt as though he had crossed through time itself.
Valto was a merciless land where winter ruled for half the year.
Perhaps because of that, there were times when it felt as though time itself had frozen.
Looking up at the unfamiliar blue sky pouring down warm sunlight, he soon urged his horse onward once more.
Before long, villages of every size and a massive walled city appeared ahead.
Passing through its center and entering the magnificent fortress enclosed by double walls, he found hundreds of vassals gathered before the gates to welcome him.
“Welcome home, Your Grace!”
Swinging down from his horse in one smooth motion, Varkas slowly looked over the soldiers filling the training grounds and the servants working within the outer fortress.
He had heard that news of his injuries had thrown the East into turmoil.
Now, looking at the faces of his vassals, he saw deep anxiety, lingering worry, and overwhelming relief all mixed together.
“You must be exhausted after such a long journey. Seeing Your Grace standing before us in good health has lifted every burden from our hearts.”
Modrian stepped forward and spoke in a clear, steady voice.
It seemed he intended to completely dispel the unease lingering among the gathered vassals.
Varkas gave a casual nod.
“So I caused everyone unnecessary concern. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine. There's no need for any of you to worry any longer.”
“What fortunate news indeed. It seems the gods are watching over Your Grace with special favor.”
The elderly knight declared in an almost theatrical tone.
Feeling the weight of exhaustion settle heavily onto his shoulders, Varkas handed Tork's reins to a nearby servant.
“I've ridden a long way. I'd like to rest for the remainder of today. I'll hear the reports one by one later, so you may all withdraw.”
The moment the order left his lips, the gathered crowd dispersed in every direction.
He walked straight across the training grounds and passed through the inner gate.
Crossing the garden where flower buds had only just begun to bloom, he approached the Great Hall.
The servants of the main castle stood lined up in perfect formation before the entrance.
Varkas had intended to walk past them without a second glance.
Then he suddenly stopped.
Among the crowd gathered to greet their lord stood someone he had never expected to see.
For a long moment, he simply stared at her, forgetting even to breathe.
His wife stood in the shade beside the castle gate, dressed in a loose grayish-brown gown. A white linen veil rested lightly over her neatly braided dark wheat-blond hair.
His eyes slowly traveled over the unfamiliar attire, so restrained it almost carried the air of religious austerity.
Then she lifted the head she had kept slightly lowered.
Sunlight filtered through the windows, cascading across her face as flawlessly carved as a marble statue standing beneath the colonnades of a temple.
The unreal beauty of the sight tightened his throat.
Despite clothing so plain it bordered on austere, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
And compared to the last time he had seen her, she looked far healthier.
She seemed so peaceful that she almost felt like a stranger.
After quietly studying her face, Varkas slowly spoke.
“It's been a long time.”
Her blue eyes trembled almost imperceptibly.
The flicker of emotion disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Lowering her long eyelashes, she answered in a calm voice.
“...It's been a long time.”
He noticed her fingers, folded neatly together before her, quietly clutching the fabric of her skirt.
Yet her voice remained astonishingly composed.
“I heard you were injured. I'm... glad you returned safely.”
Varkas's expression hardened.
Until the very day he had departed, she had cursed him with unrestrained hatred.
Now she spoke to him as though nothing had happened, offering nothing more than polite formalities.
Something twisted painfully inside him.
He stepped closer until he stood directly before her, as though approaching a complete stranger.
He saw her shoulders stiffen with tension.
Yet the eyes looking back at him remained perfectly calm.
For an instant, an inexplicable urge rose within him to shatter that composure.
“You must be disappointed that I came back alive.”
Leaning closer, he whispered softly into her ear.
He saw her lips tremble ever so slightly.
He waited for the sharp, venomous words that would surely follow.
But she said nothing.
She merely looked up at him in silence with those shadowed eyes, impossible to read.
For some reason, that complete lack of reaction tightened painfully around the pit of his stomach.