Episode 39

“Ughhh…”

Beric suddenly bolted upright, retching violently. Ian, who had been reading nearby, quickly brought him some water and kept a close eye on him.

When they returned to the barracks, Beric was barely conscious, just as the medic had warned. Considering the hole in his body, it was almost miraculous he was even awake…

“You feeling okay?”

“My stomach’s churning…”

“Why do you think that is?”

“No idea. Maybe the medic mixed alcohol into the medicine?”

Despite his complaints, Beric’s condition was improving at an astonishing rate. He still couldn’t get out of bed, but judging by his speech and attitude, it was clear he’d survived.

“Can you straighten your back a bit?”

“I don’t have any strength at all. Want to try?”

“No, you can’t. The wound might burst open.”

“Ugh. What kind of herbs did they cram in there anyway?”

Beric grimaced at the gritty residue he could feel under his fingertips and muttered in disgust.

Ian studied him carefully, holding the empty cup. He knew that magic swordsmen had far superior combat and recovery abilities compared to ordinary people. But still…

‘Is it really this much?’

The speed of Beric’s recovery was nothing short of astonishing. Even the medic looked surprised. Not even the Cheonryeo tribe would heal this fast.

“Beric, do you know what your parents looked like?”

“Huh? Yeah, I do. They’re all dead, but I remember them.”

Since he wasn’t an orphan from birth, Beric clearly remembered his mother and father’s faces. Though some of those memories were unpleasant, they were still vivid.

Ian’s curiosity deepened. If Beric had said he didn’t know, he might have suspected some non-human bloodline. But this answer only added to the mystery.

“…I should’ve stabbed both sides, left and right,” Beric muttered. “Damn bastard. He left a hole right through my ribs and then died peacefully. What was his name again? Bel?”

Beric looked bitter about having exchanged blows with Bel. Bel was dead, and he was alive. When Ian nodded lightly, Beric ground his teeth even harder.

“Those knights never show their faces unless it’s training. Guess they actually trained for once. By the way, when are we heading back to Bratz?”

“Soon. Could be as early as tomorrow.”

“Good, that’s music to my ears.”

“The central army is on the move, and I’ve heard that Derga has rallied his soldiers. Suga is sending intelligence from the border, but it’s not real-time, so details are scarce. That’s why we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Perfect. It’s way too hot here.”

“Beric, I don’t think I can take you with me.”

“What?! Why not?!”

Beric whipped his head around and instinctively clutched his side. That was exactly why. The wound was so deep that any normal person would have died.

“You can’t even walk.”

“I think I’ll be able to walk by tomorrow.”

“Walking isn’t the point. You need to hold your sword. Until the situation in Bratz is settled, you have to focus on healing here.”

“No way!”

Beric shouted the moment Ian finished speaking, but then he collapsed back onto the bed, writhing in pain.

“Ugh, damn it…”

“Whether you like it or not, there’s no choice.”

“Whaaat? You’re just using me and then ditching me? Scoundrel, traitor, pile of trash.”

Ian smiled faintly, and Beric bit his lip hard. He looked exactly like a stubborn child throwing a tantrum.

“If you’re worried about the owner of that tavern you owe, I’ll check on it for you.”

Ian had told him to quit his duties at the mansion before leaving, but he wasn’t sure if Hana and the servants had done so. Surely, if fighting broke out, they’d take refuge near the bankers’ district, which was a neutral zone. Beric clicked his tongue in disbelief at Ian’s reassurance.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“The central army! The count’s mercenaries! And even the Cheonryeo are involved. Meanwhile, I’m stuck here twiddling my thumbs. Isn’t that just cruel?”

Beric longed for the battlefield—the roar of battle cries, the satisfying feel of his sword slicing through the air, the thrill of risking life and death with every clash. He’d been waiting for all of that.

“Absolutely not. No arguments. I’ll carry myself if I have to. Honestly, aren’t you and I… master and student? How can a teacher just abandon his pupil?”

“Beric, I’m surprised. That’s how you treat your teacher? Strictly speaking, it’s a master-servant relationship… but even that’s surprising.”

“You said I could use magic! Every day is precious!”

“Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what? Try saying something else and I’ll—”

“When you fought Bel, you used magic on your own.”

“…Who?”

“You did.”

Beric blinked in disbelief at Ian’s words. It was clear he had gaps in his memory.

Ian smiled and straightened Beric’s blanket just as Nersarn entered the barracks.

“Sir Ian.”

“Lord Nersarn.”

“Step outside for a moment.”

They hurried outside, where Kakantir was burying his face in the hawk’s neck, taking a deep breath. The sharp scent of blood was unmistakable.

“The timing is perfect.”

“Kakantir?”

“Sir Ian, Derga has succeeded in surrounding the mansion with his mercenaries. The investigation team seems to be holding their ground, but it looks like they’re waiting for the central reinforcements to make their move.”

“The investigation team is just an advance party sent to gather intel. They can’t handle a full-scale battle. The central army should have arrived by now.”

“The problem is the mood among the locals.”

“The locals?”

Kakantir nodded briefly at Ian’s question.

“They’ve gathered around the center of the territory, armed themselves.”

“Ah, that’s where the bank is.”

Ian, who had tensed up, let out a breath of relief. If there was internal strife among them, it would complicate the situation. A three-way conflict was bad enough; a four-way would only increase uncertainty.

“It’s called Haiman Bank, responsible for Bariel’s financial infrastructure. Every region has at least one branch. This should be the Dion area.”

“We don’t know much about the area behind Bratz.”

“There was a rebellion in Dion once, and during the chaos, the bank was completely destroyed. Since then, Haiman Bank has refused to do business with anyone involved in the rebellion.”

Those who joined the rebellion couldn’t access their deposits or conduct economic activities except through physical goods. They had to carry hundreds of kilograms of coins or deal with untraceable losses.

“There’s only one family running the banking business in Bariel. The rebels had no choice. Thanks to that, the rebellion’s momentum faded within a few years, and Bariel successfully suppressed it.”

“So the bank is a sanctuary.”

“Exactly. Along with the temple, it’s a sacred, untouchable place. That’s why the locals have flocked there.”

That meant the scent of blood spreading through Bratz’s territory was no small matter. Ian’s expression grew serious.

“We need to hurry. The locals who don’t have the bank’s protection will increasingly side with Derga.”

Bariel’s heart was the royal palace, but Bratz’s was Derga. The count’s mercenaries were family, neighbors, friends. The more their homes were destroyed, the stronger their desire to reclaim their old lives.

“We’re heading into Bariel.”

“We’ll return to Bariel.”

Kakantir and Ian spoke simultaneously, causing Nersarn and the others to laugh. The two exchanged glances and repeated the same words.

“Tomorrow, without fail.”

---

“What about Merelrof?”

“They refused to deliver the letter.”

“Bastards. That’s why merchants are the worst.”

Derga gritted his teeth, thinking of the neighboring territory’s count, Merelrof. Like Derga, Merelrof was responsible for the border.

Unlike Bratz, which was at odds with the Cheonryeo tribe, Merelrof served as a trading hub for the Hawan Kingdom.

“They don’t have many soldiers anyway. Most are merchants, so their labor force is weak. If they try to declare independence after the central army crushes us, it’d be better to wipe them out too.”

Deo wiped the blood off his sword and muttered. Declaring independence inevitably meant expanding territory by swallowing neighboring lands. For Count Merelrof, it was a natural choice, but Derga felt a shameless sense of betrayal.

Even if they didn’t send troops, they could have intervened as mediators. But Merelrof was indifferent, not even glancing their way for fear of getting caught in the crossfire.

“Destroy it! Bring bigger trees!”

“Dip the arrowheads in oil! Light them on fire!”

“Shoot! Keep shooting!”

“Waaah! Come out, you bastards!”

“Advance! Keep pushing forward!”

“Ughhh!”

Boom! Boom boom!

Derga had only ever thought about facing the Cheonryeo tribe, never imagined he’d have to storm a mansion like this. Without any siege weapons, he was frustrated but kept ordering flaming arrows.

Whoosh… whoooosh…

Then, a heavy blast of a horn echoed through Bratz. Everyone froze and turned around. On the distant hill’s horizon, something swarmed like ants—the central reinforcements carrying the royal standard. Derga frowned and urged his mercenaries on even more fiercely.

“Hurry! Hurry up!”

“Dig the trenches deeper from that end to here!”

“Block the bridge on this side!”

“Faster, faster!”

It seemed that even inside the mansion, they had realized the Central Army had arrived—finally, there was a reaction from within. The Bratz flag was lowered, replaced by the banner of the Imperial Palace Investigation Corps.

“Those bastards…”

Derga’s rage boiled over, threatening to shatter his reason. He swore he would kill them all. Every last one of those outsiders who had dared to invade his territory would be burned alive.

“Move out! Kill them all!”

“Stick close to the high ground on this side!”

“Kill them!”

This was the land he’d lived on his entire life. When it came to the terrain, he knew every inch with his eyes closed. No matter how formidable the Central Army was, half the battle was already won by knowing the lay of the land.

Whoooosh.

Massive hawks circled high above the Bratz territory. The soldiers, focused on the approaching enemy that spelled death, didn’t notice them. Only the villagers, eyes fixed on the sky, caught sight of the birds.

“Let us in! Open the bank doors!”

“Hey! Don’t push!”

“Hey! I work here! You bastards!”

“What nonsense is a janitor spouting? Move aside!”

“Help! The Central bastards killed everyone in the mansion! Burned them alive! They said if the army comes, they’ll tear us limb from limb!”

“Ahhh! Don’t step on me!”

Portro, where the Haiman Bank stood, was filled with desperate cries from villagers trying to enter the sanctuary. Those who couldn’t leave their homes bolted their doors tight and prayed.

“Sis.”

“Hmm?”

Hana, who had been praying with her hands clasped, slowly opened her eyes at her younger sibling’s call. A narrow beam of light slipped through the small gap between the doors. Her little brother, unaware of the danger, murmured in wonder.

“That’s a huge bird.”

“A bird…”

Hana lifted her head and looked up at the sky. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her. Then she realized—it was the same celestial bird she had seen at the mansion.