Episode 43
Clang!

Deo barely managed to block the sword swung by Beric. No matter how much his skills had improved over time, with holes punctured all along his side, it seemed the wounds were somehow balancing the fight between them.

“Whoa.”

“Beric, you alright?”

At Ian’s call, Beric turned around, a wide grin spreading across his face—he looked genuinely pleased.

“Who, who? So don’t talk to me, master.”

Blood mixed with his spit as he spat out the words, but if he said he was fine, who was anyone to argue? Without hesitation, he lunged at Deo again, his sword tracing a wide arc as he relentlessly targeted Deo’s vital points.

Clang! Clang!

“Count!”

Deo dodged just in time, but he was more focused on protecting his master than counterattacking. Beric’s smile slowly faded, clearly annoyed by Deo’s behavior.

Without a second thought, Derga charged at Ian.

“Die, Ian!”

Fshhh! Ssssh!

The count’s curse was the signal. The warriors of Cheollyeo unleashed a volley of arrows all at once, while those wielding swords scrambled over moss-covered rocks, charging forward like predators eyeing their prey.

Each step was powerful, precise, and devastating. The atmosphere was unsettling, as if they were savoring the thrill of slaughter.

Swish!

Thud!

“Ahhh! Spare me!”

“Run! Run faster!”

“Drive them that way!”

“Gendallo! I caught that one!”

The warriors easily cut down the scattered foot soldiers. Unlike Derga, these men didn’t care if they lived or died. The damp earth soaked up the blood.

“Oh, right. We need to take the bodies, don’t we?”

“Just the heads. No way we’re hauling the bodies. Too much trouble.”

Clang! Clang!

“That side looks more promising.”

“Bel, was it? Seems like a friend of the knight.”

The small fry were quickly dealt with. Around the knights considered elite, the Cheollyeo warriors prowled like a pack of wolves waiting to finish off their prey.

Meanwhile, Derga was gasping for breath, drooling. Su only blocked the count’s attacks, making no attempt to strike back. He was simply worn out from his own efforts.

“I… Ian…! Ugh.”

“Such antics, Father.”

“How… how did you…?”

Su grabbed Derga by the hair and slammed his head into the ground. Derga, now sprawled at Ian’s feet, struggled with a flushed face, but it was useless.

Kneeling on one knee, Ian muttered,

“I don’t know if it’s courage or greed. How could you have allied with Bumat in the Great Desert where Winchen still holds out? Either way, it’s none of my concern, but as your son, it’s hard to watch.”

Shing.

At the sound of a razor-sharp blade, Derga’s eyes widened in terror. Su calmly began cutting off his hair.

The ultimate enemy—one who had lured his own kin and tried to kill their spiritual pillar. The greatest traitor, who had sharpened his blade behind their backs despite the alliance.

“W-what are you doing?!”

“Cutting off the head’s hair. The time for the neck isn’t yet.”

For perfect revenge and strategy, patience was necessary. To quell the boiling rage, something had to be cut away.

“You miserable wretch! Do you think you’ll survive this?”

“Quiet. Feels like I’m slaughtering a pig.”

“W-what did you say, you lowly scum!”

“If you hate the hair, shall I cut your throat instead?”

Su pressed the dagger against Derga’s throat, muttering coldly. His fierce, burning anger dripped like blood. Derga swallowed hard, eyes darting wildly—and just then, he saw blood spurting from Deo’s neck.

“Ugh…”

“D-Deo…!”

Beric circled slowly around Deo as if playing a game, stabbing mercilessly at his vital points. Deo’s eyes snapped open before he collapsed forward.

Thud!

“Ahhh!”

To the left, the knights surrounded by Cheollyeo warriors met the same fate. The moment they showed any weakness, their necks were bitten into. Even the elite knights fell helplessly.

“Hah…”

“Don’t worry. This isn’t where your father will die.”

Ian smiled brightly as he gently stroked Derga’s cheek. Then Su pulled a black mask over Derga’s head and tightened the straps.

Whack! Whack!

“Ahhh!”

The relentless beating began. Warriors cleaning up the bodies stepped over Derga’s back, cursing as they passed.

Whack! Thud!

“Damn bastard, how dare you touch Lord Winchen…”

“When will this end, Ian?”

“Why not just finish it now?”

Derga must have passed out long ago; he wet himself and only trembled weakly. Looks like he takes after his father after all.

Ian glanced at Kakantir and replied,

“For now, we’ll hand him over to the central forces and wait for the right moment.”

If they could seize control, the execution of Derga could be carried out exactly as Cheollyeo wished. But first, it was important to gain the trust of the palace—specifically, the leaders of Bariel, located a fortnight away, not Erika.

Unlike the warriors licking their lips, Kakantir stood back, nodding quietly in understanding.

“Clear them out.”

“Yes, Kakan.”

“Kakan! I see signs of the central army in the distance.”

“We’re a step too late!”

Beric chuckled, wiping the blood off his sword on his pants. He looked even more relaxed, as if this was just a satisfying warm-up.

“Beric, your wounds? If they get worse here, treatment will be difficult.”

Medical staff were limited, and many locals were already wounded from battle. Adding Beric to the list would be troublesome.

But Beric just sniffled and lifted his shirt, showing the bandages wrapped by a Cheollyeo medic.

“I’m really fine.”

“…How is that even possible?”

“No idea. Maybe the stress relief from swordplay speeds up healing? Stress is the root of all evil, after all!”

His words were playful, in stark contrast to the precise, sharp swings of his sword. Ian studied Beric’s wounds carefully but couldn’t make sense of it.

“Let’s move out!”

“Let’s sneak past the central army’s patrol!”

“You’re the loudest one here. Ha ha.”

A warrior hoisted the sack containing Derga and shouted.

Ian passed by the decapitated bodies and headed toward Bratz’s mansion. Above them, Cheollyeo hawks circled relentlessly.

---

“Lady Erika! Lady Erika!”

“The Cheollyeo have returned!”

Clatter, clatter!

At his subordinate’s shout, Erika went straight to the window and pulled back the curtain. The barbaric tribes marched proudly through the front gate, all covered in blood and carrying mysterious sacks.

“What about the central army?”

“The vanguard flew ahead but seems to be camping in the forest. They found traces of Derga and his mercenaries.”

Erika bit her nails, frowning. She had a bad feeling. The men who had entered the forest and returned looked unusually cheerful.

Ian, having disembarked at Kusille, entered the main building with several warriors.

“Wait, I need Lady Erika’s permission—!”

“Quiet. Do you think you’ve rented the whole mansion?”

“Show some respect! We’re the palace investigation team!”

“Oh yeah? We’re the heart of the Great Desert. Get lost.”

From the hallway came the sound of a scuffle—Erika’s men were blocking Ian’s group. She sighed and opened the office door. The spacious corridor was packed with men.

“What’s all this noise?”

“L-Lady Erika.”

Ian wiped the sweat from his damp hair and bowed slightly. His gesture was polite, but there was no respect or reverence in his eyes.

“I asked what’s going on, Ian.”

“We returned after tracking Derga. What else could there be?”

At Ian’s signal, a warrior threw the sack to the floor with a heavy thud that echoed through the hall. Erika’s subordinate hesitated, then cut open the sack with a knife.

“Ugh!”

Heads of mercenaries rolled out—some torn, some cleanly severed. Erika covered her mouth, disgusted, while the warrior smirked.

“Sorry about that. After turning Bratz into a bloodbath, I thought you’d be used to this.”

“Shut up! If you keep showing off like this…”

“Here’s the real thing.”

Thud!

Another sack was thrown down, the sound distinct.

This time, Erika opened it herself. Inside was Derga, carefully bound and wearing a black mask.

“D-Derga?”

“Is it really him?”

“Looks like it.”

Though unconscious, he seemed alive. The investigators exchanged uncertain glances, unsure what to do.

“Now do you believe me?”

“…Hmph. Not without some skill, huh? Move Derga to the underground prison!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The members tried to pull Derga away, but his massive, heavy body didn’t budge an inch. Even when they barely managed to hoist him onto their backs, he collapsed forward the moment they took a step.

“Careful, careful!”

“Ugh!”

Thud!

Watching this, how could anyone not laugh? The Cheonryeo tribe snickered and called out.

“Need a hand? At this rate, he’s going to roll all the way down to the basement. He’ll die before Derga does.”

“Hahaha!”

“Good thing we caught him ourselves. Otherwise, how would you have brought him here? ‘After I patch you up, try walking on your own two feet,’ or something like that?”

Even Kakanthirma, who had been silent, couldn’t hide his laughter. Erika’s face flushed bright red, as if it might burst, and Ian quickly changed the subject.

“Well then, now that you’ve caught Derga, what are your plans? If possible, we’d appreciate it if you could hurry up with the execution and be on your way.”

“You’re quite bold with your words, Ian. My mission isn’t over yet. I have to eliminate everyone with the surname ‘Bratz.’”

“So that means…?”

“We haven’t found the key figures yet—Lady Mary and Chel. If you have time, you might want to head down to the village and look for them. You could even stay there for a while.”

“What about the possibility they’ve left the area?”

“Almost none. We can pinpoint the day they disappeared. No woman left the castle walls that day.”

With that, Erika swung her tied-up hair and strode confidently back to the office, silently asserting that the place was hers. Only the subordinates, helpless and awkward, remained in the hallway, struggling with Derga.

“Help them move Derga.”

“Yes, Kakan.”

After giving the order, Kakanthirma nodded toward Ian, signaling he wanted to speak privately. Ian gladly followed him toward the back of the corridor but suddenly hesitated.

“Why?”

Beric had tagged along without picking up on the hint.

Ian glanced around briefly, then shook his head and gave a command.

“You don’t come with us. Go find Filia.”

“Ah! Right! Your real mother?”

“Yeah. Beric, since you helped with the stealth, you know the way, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

Despite his confident answer, Beric looked a bit flustered. Hopefully, he hadn’t forgotten. Just as Ian was about to say more, Beric dashed out of the mansion.

“Sir Ian.”

“Yes, Kakan.”

Ian left Beric behind and faced Kakanthirma, whose expression had suddenly turned quite serious.