Episode 42
“Completely insane… no, just downright crazy.”

Erika couldn’t hold back any longer and pulled out another cigarette.

But at the same time, her mind raced. Something about this situation felt off.

What else could it mean to bring the Cheollyeo tribe along?

It was a clear warning—they were ready to use force if things went south. Unlike the central army, which was half-broken from the last battle, the Cheollyeo warriors were fired up with fierce determination.

‘The worst part? Aside from Ian’s bloodline, there’s nothing to fault here.’

Just stepping outside the mansion’s main gate, the cries of the estate’s residents cursing the central army echoed everywhere. Though they faced Derga’s mercenaries, to the locals, those soldiers were family, friends, neighbors.

‘The resentment and hatred among the estate’s people will run deep for a while. But if a descendant of Bratz like Ian steps forward, command will be much more effective. And above all, having the border’s most important frontier tribe backing us… damn it.’

Her head throbbed.

If more central troops were dispatched, they could surely drive out the Cheollyeo and claim a complete victory in Bratz.

But whether Erika and her team could be there for that moment was uncertain. They’d likely be remembered only as faded martyrs, honored with nothing but hollow memorials.

Erika’s lips curled in frustration.

“…The appointment of the lord is the emperor’s prerogative.”

“I’m aware. No one has authority before the emperor’s decree.”

No one, yet everyone.

Erika could do it—but that also meant Ian could. She crushed her cigarette between her teeth and glared at Kakantir, who leisurely went on about Ian’s necessity.

“Ian was born and raised in Bratz, so he’ll be a great help in rebuilding. Without him, the Cheollyeo tribe won’t give any priority to Bariel’s factions, and peace would require starting from scratch.”

It was basically a declaration of severing ties. And that was no different from war. Coming from the Cheollyeo chieftain himself, the weight of those words was heavy.

“Cheap and nasty. Damn it.”

“So, you really are a lowborn, huh?”

“Can you shut that mouth? Those border bastards are the worst…”

Kakantir shot Erika a deadly glare, but she didn’t back down, lifting her chin defiantly.

How much hell had she endured to get this far—from the bottom to here? She wasn’t about to have her dream of becoming lord snatched away right before her eyes.

“…Just so you know, if you kill me, it’s basically a declaration of war on Bariel.”

“Oh? Thanks for the warning. Otherwise, I might’ve cut your throat already.”

“Ugh…”

Kakantir pressed his boot down on the neck of a fallen man and laughed. The man’s subordinate gasped instinctively, trembling. Erika felt cold sweat trickle down her back.

“Alright. I think I have a rough idea of what you want.”

Erika took a step back, folding her arms and shifting the conversation. Since being offered the role of investigation leader by Molin, she was already the de facto governor of this estate. It was clear her name was on the lord’s appointment document Ian sought.

She couldn’t back down now.

“But I haven’t secured Derga, Lady Mary, or Chel’s whereabouts yet. I’m also duty-bound to capture all the mercenaries who resisted and uphold the emperor’s authority.”

“Wise words.”

“Until the mission is complete, I won’t leave this mansion. If you truly want to ease Bratz’s suffering, then do as you please. But I hope you act only for peace. Otherwise, the emperor’s sword will fly here from the capital.”

Until the message arrived from the capital appointing Erika as lord here, she just had to hold on. Once she had the authority, she’d crush those arrogant mouths babbling nonsense.

“Very well. Then we’ll assist in capturing Derga.”

Ian nodded, clearly satisfied with the meeting. His subtle push had worked.

As Erika said, once they caught Derga and the key figures in the mansion, the central army would have every reason to stay here.

“We’ll also take the lead in managing the aftermath. The investigation team and central army have already earned the estate residents’ resentment. Step back for efficient progress.”

Was this just a ploy to save Derga?

Erika narrowed her eyes at the thought. Flicking away her half-smoked cigarette, she signaled her subordinates.

“If you try anything foolish, be prepared.”

“Erika, you don’t seem very close with Lord Molin, do you?”

“What?”

“I mean, it seems you don’t know much about my relationship with Derga. You don’t need to worry. Bring Derga here and I’ll prove how sincere I am to the capital.”

This moment would later play a crucial role in solidifying Ian’s position. Though he was Derga’s blood, he firmly denied him. The tip-off he gave Molin laid the foundation, but now it needed to be cemented.

“Hah. Bring Derga here? Go ahead and try, if you can. Even the central army is struggling to track him through the mountains.”

Once the situation settled, Kakantir straightened his clothes and turned away. With a voice dripping with amusement, he declared:

“Hunting’s our specialty. You lot just stay here and tend to that woman.”

He nodded toward Erika’s broken-necked subordinate. Ian, following the Cheollyeo tribe, gave a light nod in return.

“Then. We’ll meet again soon.”

Bang!

As the door slammed shut, Erika spat out her cigarette and rushed to her subordinates, grinding her teeth.

“Send a dispatch to the capital immediately!”

“Yes, Lady Erika.”

Her troops sprang into action at their lord’s hoarse command. They had to send urgent news to the capital. The only thing that could protect Erika here was the lord’s appointment sealed by the emperor.

She could only hope Molin handled things swiftly.

---

The next day, in a forest not far from Bratz.

Soldiers crouched between rocks, gripping their swords tightly, swallowing nervously. Rustling sounds came from all around—whether beasts or enemies, no one could tell.

The tension of an imminent attack made Derga shiver uncontrollably, drenched in sweat.

“Count, this way.”

Deo, covered in blood, led the way. Crawling and flattened against the ground, his face was scratched by rough grass.

“Hah, hah, how far down are we going?”

“Since the gates at Merellof are locked tight, we’ll have to circle around and enter the Hwan Kingdom.”

It was basically exile. Even if they reached there, they’d have to live in hiding for safety. Everything they’d built—their home, their pride as nobles—was shattered.

“Damn it.”

The count glanced back at his soldiers trailing him. More than half were gone, and those left were missing limbs or badly wounded. It was a defeat, no matter how you looked at it.

He fiddled with the bundle on his back—a secret stash of emergency funds. Jewels and gold coins, vital assets to support Derga’s future. If luck was on their side, they might use this to return to Bratz.

“Wait. Stop.”

“Stop.”

“Stop, behind you!”

Deo froze at the sound. The soldiers behind him dropped low, alert.

Creak!

A sound came from a nearby massive tree. Derga and Deo looked up simultaneously. A hawk, the size of a deer, glared down at them.

“Hah.”

So that was it. Derga clutched his trembling heart and let out a relieved breath.

Then—

Thud!

A soldier walking beside him suddenly collapsed, his head snapped to the side. A dagger was buried in his temple.

‘What?’

Instant death. The fallen man probably didn’t even realize he was dead, and neither did Derga. It all happened in a split second.

“Ahhh…!”

“Ahhh!”

“Enemy! Enemy!”

“Everyone, calm down! Raise your shields!”

Deo shouted, but the soldiers, having just tasted death, scattered in panic, screaming. Only a few knights with their wits about them drew bows and swords.

“Right side!”

“From the right!”

“Protect the count!”

“Duck down!”

The fear of another arrow or blade flying at any moment gripped them. Derga trembled, hiding behind the knights.

“Hey, Derga.”

Swish!

Clang!

An arrow flew toward Derga, but a knight swiftly deflected it with his sword, shielding him.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves like rain. On the ridge, figures in sand-colored hoods began to appear.

“Long time no see. You’ve changed a lot.”

“Ka-Kakantir!”

“The Cheollyeo! The Cheollyeo tribe!”

The red pigment looked as if it had been splattered with blood. Derga couldn’t make sense of the situation. Hadn’t he outright rejected their help? Even sent Knight Bell’s head as a message.

“Why… why are you here?”

“Curious, are you?”

“Damn it! Count, run!”

“Alex! Form a defensive line!”

The knights grabbed Derga’s arm, shouting urgently. The warriors standing beside Kakan had all drawn their bows, strings taut and ready.

Kakantir chuckled, nodding toward Derga’s back.

“If you’re so curious, why not ask your son?”

In that instant, the tension that had gripped Derga and his soldiers snapped like a frayed rope. They turned their heads toward the direction the fierce wind was blowing.

“Father.”

Whoosh—

Like a spirit of the forest, strands of shining golden hair whipped in the wind, and his emerald eyes curved beautifully.

It was Ian. The son he had sold off to Cheonryeo.

“I’ve… returned.”

“Ian…! You! You bastard!”

For a moment, Derga was stunned. Then the memory hit him like a blow—Ian had conspired with Mollin, the one who had brought him to this ruin. The cursed flesh and blood that had dragged him, once a proud lord of his domain, down to the depths. Ian was both his past shame and his future hatred.

“I will kill you, Ian! Tear you to pieces and feed your flesh to your mother! Then I’ll throw you both alive into the flames! I’ll make sure living feels like hell!”

Derga’s furious roar echoed through the forest. Ian’s expression didn’t change. That calm, almost amused smile only made Derga’s blood boil hotter.

“You bastard!”

“Count!”

Tat-tat-tat!

Without thinking, Derga drew his sword and charged at Ian. Though exhausted and wounded, he leapt forward in a single bound, aiming for Ian’s neck. Behind Ian, Deo moved to protect him.

Clang! Clang!

It was Su who deflected Derga’s sword, and then Beric blocked Deo’s strike.

“Ah.”

Beric grimaced slightly, as if feeling the sting from the recoil, glancing down at his stomach. But only for a moment. Then he smirked and waved at Deo.

“Hey there, you bastard.”

“…Bastard?”

“Don’t you remember me? I remember you.”

Beric swung his sword wide and charged at Deo.

“At the training grounds. You beat me to hell, remember?”