Chapter 674
At last, the Master of the 2nd Legion, Hate, had returned to Bilkenos.
The number of Phantom Dullahans moving with him had dwindled considerably, but the fact that they had killed the Second of the Three Brothers and discovered the location of the North Star was an incredible achievement.
The North Star’s location was a top-level secret—now the most important card in their hands, allowing them to freely maneuver the royal army currently stationed in Bilkenos. Since the royal army knew nothing about the geography of the north and the Frost Field, they had no choice but to depend entirely on the Grand Duke’s orders.
A war council was convened immediately in Bilkenos.
Those present were: the Grand Duke Jin Arskalt, the General Ganiro, the steward Godrick, and one general and one elder most trusted by the Grand Duke—five in total.
Though Simon was the Grand Duke’s cherished disciple, he was still considered an outsider, and due to opposition from the high officials, he was not permitted to attend.
“Hello there~”
As Simon sat by the castle window to rest, a woman approached him.
It was Grayson, the milkmaid, his very first friend since arriving in the northern lands of Carlos.
“Oh, hello, Grayson.”
“Would you like some milk?”
She thrust a milk container forward with a carefree grin.
“You look like you’ve got mixed feelings. At times like this, reindeer milk is the best.”
“......The universal cure-all, I see.”
“Hohoho! That’s right!”
Since he couldn’t possibly drink that whole container alone, she had brought cups. They each filled a cup to the brim, then gazed out at the snowy northern scenery beyond the window as they drank.
Reindeer milk.
Its peculiar bitter aftertaste didn’t suit Simon’s palate, but under Grayson’s silly, carefree smile, he couldn’t bring himself to say it wasn’t tasty. So he drank heartily.
“I come to this castle every day to deliver milk.”
She said.
“Maybe that’s why I can sense when the atmosphere here has changed.”
“That’s interesting. How does it feel today?”
She closed her eyes slightly.
“Before long, war will break out.”
‘!’
“A tension as sharp as a blade is flowing through this castle. And whenever that happens, a great battle soon follows. Recently, when this same atmosphere filled the halls, the war with the Three Brothers broke out.”
Simon was startled, but what drew his attention most was how calm her expression remained as she spoke of war.
Was it because northerners lived each day as a continuation of battle?
“Simon, will you be going to war as well?”
The sudden question snapped him out of his thoughts. He quickly answered.
“Yes, it seems so. After all, I am the Grand Duke’s disciple.”
“I’ll pray for your safe return! Oh, and also—”
She smiled again, her lips smeared white with milk.
“Before war, milk is the best! Strong bones help you fight off the undead better!”
She raised her cup. Simon chuckled softly and clinked his cup against hers.
“Thank you, Grayson.”
* * *
The emergency council concluded, and the date of the expedition was set.
The Grand Duke had already declared that while Simon remained in the north, the decisive battle against the North Star would take place. The departure was in three days.
Until then, Simon needed to raise his capabilities as a Legion Commander by any means possible. Even if he didn’t have the thousands of undead the Grand Duke boasted of before the other generals, he still had to fulfill that role.
With the schedule fixed, Simon wasted not a moment.
He woke at dawn, running the paths for stamina training. Then, within the fortress, he tried to follow the Grand Duke’s training routine as best he could.
‘......Monster.’
Of course, it was impossible to perfectly follow the routine the Grand Duke had kept for decades. To Simon, her sheer endurance was more incomprehensible than her vast control abilities.
After physical training came commander lessons. Since the North Star, having lost the Three Brothers, had gathered all its forces in its domain, the Abyss, undead raids had ceased, leaving no targets for practice.
So the Grand Duke used her own undead to train him.
It was a friendly match between the 2nd and 7th Legions.
[Kahahaha! Don’t lose, boy! Wipe out those 2nd Legion bastards!]
Feer, fired up by rivalry, shouted. Simon, drenched in sweat, extended both arms.
‘Advance!’
Skeletons clattered forward, charging into enemy lines. His force consisted of 11 Summoned Undead and 30 Legion Undead.
Soon, they clashed against the Grand Duke’s skeleton unit.
Thwack!
One Skeleton Rider circled around and lunged a spear toward Simon’s face. Eyes flashing, Simon gave a swift order to a rear-guard skeleton.
The rear skeleton intercepted the rider’s spear with its shield, then thrust its own spear into the rider’s chest, shattering it apart.
‘Blocked it!’
“Not bad.”
The Grand Duke said, arms crossed with a smirk.
“That makes twelve, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Since coming north, Simon had increased his maximum number of controllable Summoned Undead from 9 to 12.
‘With this, I could even control a Bone Dragon!’
Simon clenched his fist in joy.
The Grand Duke dispersed the troops and declared a break. They sat on a nearby rock, gulping water from flasks.
“......”
“......”
Since the victory party, their relationship remained awkward. At first, Simon had found the unease unbearable, but now he had grown somewhat used to it—or perhaps the harsh training left no energy to notice.
Then—
“Arrogant brat.”
The Grand Duke broke the silence.
“I have a question.”
A question—directed at him.
Simon’s eyes widened as he looked at her.
“Ask me anything.”
“Your father......”
She trailed off, briefly averting her gaze.
“Your father, is he truly......!”
She let out a short sigh, then quickly pulled her helmet over her head. Only after hiding behind the armor did she regain her composure, eyes glinting fiercely from the helm’s slit.
[Is your father truly ‘Yona’?]
“......”
Simon stared at her in silence for a moment, then slowly stood.
[!]
He stepped closer and gently grasped her helmet with both hands, carefully lifting it off. Long hair spilled down like a waterfall, revealing flushed cheeks.
Simon smiled softly.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“!”
Her face grew even redder.
“And I’ve told you before, haven’t I? Please, look me in the eye when we talk.”
“S-such impudence!”
She snatched back her helmet, flustered, and shifted slightly away.
Noticing her instinctively turning her face aside, she forced herself to meet Simon’s gaze directly, eyes firm.
“Is... is Yona alive?”
“Yes.”
Joy spread across her face.
“Then... then he’s married?”
“Yes.”
Simon smiled warmly.
He had already suspected she knew his father. Recently, from Feer, he had learned:
—Richard once came to the north.
When Simon lamented his strained relationship with the Grand Duke, Feer had given him that clue. Simon realized then that there might be a connection between his father and her. The fact she had asked who his father was earlier was also a telling hint.
“They married in a small rural fief, and they had me. They’re still doing well.”
“......I see.”
Little by little, her trembling subsided.
“So that’s how it was.”
The Grand Duke slowly let out a long breath.
Relief.
All the frustrations, all the questions, and those unnecessary emotions—at last, it felt like she could finally set them down. The only regret was that she had not asked sooner.
“What happened between you and my father?”
Simon asked.
“It was nothing.”
She gave a faint, relieved smile.
“He spouted off whatever he pleased, then left the work to me.”
The two shared a conversation about their common subject, Richard. Both agreed he was an eccentric, and soon they were laughing out loud together.
“That’s right! He’s always being scolded by my mother.”
Gone was the image of the commander pouring madness into her orders. Now, she quietly watched Simon laughing like a boy his own age, talking about his family.
“I see.”
That was the last.
She could not bring herself to ask who it was Yona had married. Still, whoever she was, to have subdued the infamous Yona and to have raised Simon—his blood running thick with Yona’s—so normally, she could not be an ordinary woman.
“That’s enough chatter. Back to training.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Even so, she thought:
Just as Yona had once given her a chance, so too must she give Yona’s son the chance to grow stronger.
* * *
Bilkenos, a luxurious mansion.
In a lavish estate of Bilkenos, the Watcher of the North, Count Voldemont, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter.”
Creak.
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. When the count turned and saw her, a smile crept onto his lips.
“I’ve been waiting.”
It was none other than the woman who delivered milk daily to the Grand Duke’s castle.
Grayson, the milkmaid.
Her face was pale with fear as she approached.
“M-my dear Count Voldemont, I… I greet you.”
“Yes.”
The count spread his arms.
“But your formality seems lacking. How did I tell you to greet me properly?”
“……”
As she hesitated, the count’s eyes twisted unpleasantly.
“Would you want the reindeer farm passed down through your family for generations to end with you? Oh, and is your elderly father still well?”
She bit her lip hard, trembling. At last, she slowly dropped to the floor.
“I greet my beloved Count Voldemont.”
The count’s eyes gleamed with ecstasy.
“Yes, yes! That’s it!”
He burst into raucous laughter, clapping his hands as he strode around the room.
“Every time a northerner bows before me, I feel a peculiar thrill!”
He grabbed her shoulders as he spoke.
“Northerners are untamed savages, aren’t they? They sneer at me as weak, pour beer over my head, always picking fights. Yet here they are, bowing their heads to my power, my wealth!”
With fevered excitement, he strode closer and lifted Grayson’s chin.
Her face was steeped in sorrow.
“This is how it should be! This is normal! In the south, anyone of high rank and wealth receives bowed heads and bent knees. Only you northerners resist what is natural!”
Releasing her chin, he strode about the chamber again.
“My dream is to create a new North! When this war ends, I’ll teach these northerners refinement! To put it crudely, yes, call it ‘breeding’ if you like! And of course, I’ll teach them to obey their master!”
His eyes gleamed as he looked back at Grayson.
“All northerners will crawl at my feet! And you are the beginning!”
“……”
“My faithful Grayson, did you bring the information?”
Trembling, she extended a slip of paper with her fingertips. Inside was written detailed information about the northern council meeting.
“The more I see your ability, the more I marvel.”
He licked his lips.
“The power to command birds, what a rare gift. And yet northerners ignore it, treating it as worthless since it offers no aid in battle. Don’t you see? Only I recognized your worth!”
As if he had received a royal decree, he unfolded the paper with reverence.
“Tch!”
The corners of his mouth curled upward.
“Hahahahahahahaha!”
Shoulders shaking with laughter, he rose from his seat.
“Your farm is free. Your father will soon recover from his illness as well.”
“Th-thank you……”
Tears of guilt streamed down her face. The count smiled in satisfaction.
“Think nothing of it. Your submission is only the beginning. I promise, I will build a North where you need feel no guilt. Everyone will be like you.”
He strode across the room.
“Steward.”
“Yes, my lord!”
The steward waiting outside entered.
The count gave a sinister grin.
“We must pay a visit to Commander Romario and Sir Chronos at once.”
* * *
The next morning.
Rattle-rattle-rattle—
Northern merchants pushed carts piled with vegetables and slabs of meat. Their destination: the royal army’s encampment.
“Damn it, why do we even have to bring meat to waste on them?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Grumbling, the merchants trudged along. On the surface, the royal army had been sent by the king himself for the North’s aid, so failing to provide basic supplies would only invite scandal later.
Central nobles would seize on any mistreatment of the reinforcements, twisting it into an insult to His Majesty or even cries of treason.
“Disgusting as it is, that’s politics. Bear with it.”
“Tell me about it.”
The merchants arrived at the royal camp.
“Unbelievable.”
Royal soldiers slouched about the tents, their faces blank, movements sluggish—eyes vacant, steps shuffling like zombies.
“They don’t even react when people show up.”
“Never mind them. Today’s rations! Come and get them!”
A merchant shouted loudly, but the soldiers gave no response.
“I said come take them!”
“Forget it, let’s just leave. Maybe Chronos cursed their ears deaf.”
“……”
But then, one merchant’s eyes sharpened as he surveyed the camp.
The royal banner snapped in the frigid wind.
“Wait… something’s wrong.”
Though they’d been warned not to approach the camp, the merchant quickened his steps toward it.
“Hey! Don’t go near—!”
Shrugging off his companions, he pressed on.
“Doesn’t it seem odd to you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The wind’s blowing the wrong way.”
The current was a northwesterly wind, yet the banners and tents fluttered the opposite direction.
The merchants pressed closer, but the soldiers gave no protest, just stared blankly.
Then, as they passed the soldiers and reached the encampment—
“Huh?”
Like ripples spreading from a stone dropped in water, the very air quivered, and the surroundings warped.
The merchants froze, eyes wide.
“Wh-what…?”
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Whoooooosh—
The royal camp was empty.
Not a soul in the tents. The throngs that bustled moments before had vanished like phantoms. The merchants whipped their heads around.
“Th-the royal army…!”
Their jaws dropped.
“The royal army has disappeared!”
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