Chapter 227
Still gripping the reins so tightly that the veins stood out across the back of his hand, Varkas surveyed the encampment before finally digging his heels into his horse's flanks.
He raced down the steep slope in one swift descent, and the camp's miserable condition became even more apparent.
The crude palisade hastily erected around the outer edge of the basin had been battered so badly that scarcely an intact section remained. Inside the scattered tents lay countless wounded soldiers. At a glance, it was obvious that a battle of considerable scale had taken place.
Swinging down from the saddle, he strode directly toward the defensive barricade.
A sentry who had been watching their approach from afar hurriedly dragged the barrier aside to clear the way.
The moment he stepped inside, Varkas asked without preamble,
"Where is His Highness the Crown Prince?"
The soldiers standing in formation on either side of the entrance stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances instead of answering.
Reading sheer despair in their silence, Varkas clenched his jaw and headed straight toward the central command tent.
By then, the Imperial Army knights had already received word that the main force of the Imperial Coalition had arrived and hurried outside one after another.
Most of them were familiar faces.
Casting a cold glance over his former subordinates, Varkas entered the large tent without hesitation.
There he saw Kailias sitting up on his cot with the assistance of a squire.
"Your Grace, Grand Duke."
His expression rigid, the man sat on the edge of the bed and offered the bare minimum of formal courtesy.
Seeing the thick bandages wrapped around the knight's shoulder, Varkas looked at him coldly before getting straight to the point.
"Explain what happened."
"...We were ambushed."
Grinding his teeth, the knight replied,
"Half a day's march northeast of here lies the enemy's stronghold. It's an impregnable fortress built halfway up a mountainside as steep as a cliff. We cut off their water supply to lure them out and circled north in order to seal every route leading into the fortress. But they had already prepared traps there..."
"I didn't ask for a string of excuses."
A low groan escaped the senior knight.
Only then did Varkas realize that he had seized the man by the hair.
At some point, he had become unable to restrain these violent impulses.
The thought crossed his mind that perhaps everything he had done to carve out his inborn nature had been meaningless from the very beginning.
He brutally jerked the man's head upward.
A rough groan escaped the knight's lips.
Ignoring it, Varkas stared into the horribly contorted face before him and spoke in an icy voice.
"I distinctly ordered you to withdraw to the rear and remain there. Give me one valid reason why that order had to be disobeyed."
"We... could not... defy His Highness the Crown Prince's command."
The words hissed through clenched teeth.
"He is the future Emperor. We, the Roem Knights, swore our loyalty to him—!"
"Loyalty isn't blindly charging wherever your master points like a well-trained dog."
Varkas cut him off coldly.
"A true subject bites even his master's leg if that's what it takes to stop him from walking into certain death."
"We do not believe His Highness's judgment was entirely wrong."
The knight glared back with blazing eyes.
"Countless loyal servants of the Empire died because of the northern rebellion. Among them were comrades who fought beside us for many years! And yet the daughter of the very house that bears responsibility for their deaths was to become Crown Princess! That would shake the very foundations of the Empire's order. If we recklessly show mercy to those who once raised their banners against the Imperial Family, we will only invite another catastrophe. We fully support His Highness's judgment."
Varkas gazed at him expressionlessly.
Then, without warning, the corner of his mouth twisted into a savage smile.
"So then... where is the Crown Prince whom you support so wholeheartedly?"
The color drained from the knight's face.
Unable to meet his eyes, he confessed in a hoarse voice,
"...He was taken prisoner by Heimdal."
For a long moment, Varkas said nothing.
Unable to bear the silence, the knight hurriedly continued,
"It seems Heimdal was targeting His Highness from the very beginning. They deliberately leaked information about the rebels' location to lure us into a trap. Their plan was to capture His Highness as a hostage and cripple the Imperial Army."
"So, in other words..."
Varkas spoke calmly.
"You handed the Empire's heir directly into the enemy's hands."
The knight opened his mouth as though to protest, then clenched his teeth shut.
At last, he seemed to realize that whatever he said now would amount to nothing more than pathetic excuses.
Varkas stared coldly at the man's flushed face before abruptly releasing him.
"From this moment onward, command of both the Roem Knights and the Imperial elite force belongs to me. The moment the coalition healers finish treating the wounded, every available soldier will assemble before Heimdal's fortress."
The knight sprang to his feet in alarm.
"Did you hear anything I just said? His Highness the Crown Prince is being held hostage! If we attack now, his life may be placed in danger. At present, we have no choice but to comply with Heimdal's demands—!"
"The moment we comply with his demands, the Empire will begin its march toward disintegration."
The certainty in Varkas's voice caused the knight's neck to stiffen.
"He'll demand Valto's autonomy and an enormous war indemnity. Even if negotiations somehow end with nothing more than paying a ransom, the Imperial Family's prestige will be reduced to nothing. Meanwhile, Heimdal will be hailed as the hero of the North, and Valto's independence will become inevitable."
"That doesn't necessarily mean—!"
"Do you truly believe the northerners will quietly accept Imperial rule after even House Bleston has turned its back on the Imperial Family?"
"..."
"If Valto breaks away from the Empire, the other feudal lords won't remain idle either. Within a few years, the entire continent of Lobiden will be dragged back into an age of fractured kingdoms, swallowed by endless war and slaughter."
By then, the knight's face had grown so pale it resembled that of a corpse.
Watching the terror slowly spread across it, Varkas continued calmly,
"Therefore, there will be no negotiations."
"So..."
The knight stared at him in disbelief.
"Are you saying you're prepared to sacrifice His Highness the Crown Prince?"
Varkas gave no answer.
The knight lurched to his feet and staggered toward him.
"Your Grace cannot make such a decision on your own! At the very least, His Majesty must be informed before—"
"His Majesty's decision would be little different."
Varkas cut him off mercilessly.
"If forced to choose between the Empire and its heir, the answer has already been decided."
Then he drove the point home.
"After all... His Majesty still has another heir."
The knight looked up at him with eyes full of shock.
Leaving the frozen man where he stood, Varkas walked out of the command tent.
Outside, several knights stood gathered around the entrance with grim expressions, having apparently overheard the argument within.
Looking over them one by one, Varkas issued his order in a low voice.
"At first light tomorrow, we march on Heimdal's fortress. Make certain your preparations are flawless."
* * *
The main force of the Imperial Coalition reached the encampment just as the sun disappeared completely beyond the mountain ridge.
Emerging through the deepening darkness, the soldiers immediately reinforced the woefully inadequate defenses while simultaneously preparing for the next day's march.
The overwhelming majority of the commanders raised no objection to Varkas's decision.
They gathered at once inside the central command tent and began a council of war.