Episode 51
The investigation team members glanced around hesitantly, their expressions stiffening. The faces of Erika and her comrades had frozen, the heat of the moment suddenly cooling as if snuffed out.
Erika swallowed dryly and asked again.
“You say the message came from the Western District? Is that true?”
“Y-yes, yes. Here it is.”
Snap!
Erika snatched the letter in an instant. Since it had arrived by pigeon, there was naturally no imperial seal. Instead, the clear stamp of the Assembly was pressed on it. She felt a sharp headache coming on.
“I don’t understand why everyone’s reacting like this,” muttered Kakantir slowly. Ian glanced over with a faint smile. Whatever it was, it was clear the situation was turning decidedly in their favor.
“The emperor’s decree can’t be sent through the Western District. So even if it claims to come from the center, it’s probably not a title appointment but some other message.”
No matter how she calculated it, the title appointment seemed delayed or canceled. The more troubled Erika became, the more opportunity Ian saw. Sure enough, Erika’s expression as she read the letter was something else.
“No, damn it, this is insane…”
Ian quickly snatched the letter from Erika’s hand. She and the investigation team lunged reflexively, but the warriors of the Cheonryeo tribe were faster by a step.
“Stay still.”
“…Y-you won’t give it back?”
“I warned you to stay still.”
Unlike the armed investigation team, the Cheonryeo warriors were unarmed, but their resolve was unshaken. In fact, they radiated a deadly aura, as if one more step forward would crush heads. Having confirmed the central letter, Erika knew this was a line she could not cross.
Kakantir leisurely raised his glass and made a request.
“Please read it aloud, Lord Ian.”
“Yes, Kakantir.”
Ian cleared his throat and began reading slowly.
—It is presumed that the territory suffered heavy damage due to Derga Bratz’s rebellion. This will affect next year’s production and taxes, so the imperial palace will dispatch temporary advisors to oversee reconstruction.
The envoys are Romandro, Mollin, Maek, and D’Gor. Authority lies with Romandro, who is also entrusted with the disposition of Derga Bratz.
The appointment of the lord will proceed after stabilization. Inform the entire Bratz territory and request their cooperation. Furthermore, investigation team leader Berti Erika is to swiftly complete the extermination of the Bratz clan. End of message.
“So, advisors are coming.”
“Advisors, huh? What exactly will their role be?”
“As the letter states, they will oversee the overall reconstruction of the territory. The palace’s evaluation of me and the Cheonryeo tribe will also depend on them.”
“Hmm. So this one is more important than the man before us.”
Kakantir nodded toward Erika with a smirk. The warriors chuckled lowly, and Erika felt as if her breath had been knocked out. It wasn’t just anger—it was complete incomprehension.
‘This can’t be happening…’
She stared helplessly at the letter on the table, repeating the thought. Of course, the words wouldn’t change no matter how much she wished.
“Investigation team leader Erika.”
Ian called her in a calm, refined voice.
“You understand what it means that the authority over Derga’s disposition is entrusted to this advisor Romandro, don’t you?”
Though they said the lord’s appointment was postponed, it was effectively a rejection.
To put it bluntly… she was reduced to nothing more than a dog chasing after a traitor’s tail, unable even to carry out the execution.
“There’s a saying that the real star of an execution isn’t the prisoner but the investigator. It’s a shame.”
The execution was a kind of show, parading the beheaded prisoner to glorify the emperor and the investigator’s competence. Erika stood frozen, stunned.
“Well then, shall we talk? At least, I can help ensure that you, Captain Erika, can conduct the execution ceremony.”
“…What?”
“Those who have read the letter can all agree, right? It’s not the emperor’s order but the Assembly’s directive. We can handle things flexibly on the frontier.”
“How?”
“Romandro the investigator won’t arrive for another fifteen days.”
It was simple. Hang Derga’s neck as soon as possible, and when Romandro arrives, claim the deed was done before receiving the letter. There was nothing problematic about that.
“However, leave the actual killing at the execution to the Cheonryeo tribe. We’re short-handed now, so they’ll have to help with preparations. From what I see, it’s a good opportunity for both sides.”
“Right, Erika. I can ease your burden. If you hang Derga in the air, the Cheonryeo will pierce his heart with a spear. There’s no more impressive execution than that.”
This wasn’t a proposal. How could an option you can’t refuse be called a proposal? Erika hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Knock, knock.
A voice from outside interrupted.
“Kakantir, Lord Ian, there’s a problem.”
“Wait a moment.”
“Yes, understood.”
What could it be? There was nothing likely to cause trouble now. If anything, it would be something with Mary or Chel, but the central army had just left, so it probably wasn’t that.
Ian urged Erika and quickly wrapped up the situation.
“Anyway, Captain Erika, prepare Derga’s execution ceremony quickly. While you write the proclamation, we’ll handle the rest.”
Has that bastard ever seen an execution? How did he even know a proclamation was needed? Erika glared suspiciously at Ian but, sensing the clear message to leave, she stepped back.
“…I need to think this over.”
“The longer you take, the more exhausting it gets for everyone.”
“…Let’s go.”
Bang!
Though he said that, Ian would be pulling out pen and paper the moment he returned to his room. First, he’d write a letter to Mollin, demanding answers.
Kakantir, sipping wine, called the waiting warrior inside.
“Come in.”
“…Kakantir, what should we do?”
“What is it?”
The warrior hesitated, then pulled a dead bird from his back pocket. A white cloth tied around its neck was stained with blood.
“Is this the pigeon sent from the center?”
“Looks like it.”
“Oh no. We killed it without knowing. What can we do? I threw a stone and hit it right away.”
“Let me see.”
Judging by the tied cloth, it was indeed a messenger pigeon. But it wasn’t from the imperial palace. Kakantir lightly scolded the warrior.
“Why throw stones at an innocent bird?”
“Sorry. It kept pecking at the window, making noise, so I lost patience.”
“The window?”
“The investigation team leader’s room. Fourth floor, the one that used to be Lady Mary’s. I really didn’t expect to hit it. Huh, I didn’t know my aim was this good.”
“Stop with the nonsense.”
“Sorry.”
So the letter was definitely meant for Erika. Ian quickly found a piece of paper sewn into the inside of the pigeon’s garment.
Rustle.
“May I read it first?”
“Do as you please. Today is quite the day. The central army has left, and now hawks and pigeons are flying in.”
Kakantir muttered in disbelief and took another sip of wine. Ian scanned the letter quickly and let out an unexplainable sigh.
—To Captain Berti Erika: Listen carefully. There’s been a problem. It seems Derga wrote a letter to His Highness, the First Prince Marib. I can guess the contents, but it’s not confirmed.
Anyway, thanks to this, the First Prince Marib suddenly attended the Assembly and canceled the lord’s appointment. We’re watching for a chance to fix this, so don’t be too discouraged and wait. I will soon descend to Bratz with the advisors.
“What does it say?”
“Now I understand why Captain Erika’s lord appointment fell through. It’s not something that can be overturned so easily…”
They had rushed for half a month to the frontier, risking their lives in battle. It was all to lay the groundwork for rebellion. If the promised reward wasn’t given to Erika, the consequences could be dire.
Kakantir clicked his tongue after reading the letter.
“So it was a power struggle after all. And Derga wrote a letter? When did he find the chance?”
“I don’t know either, but it’s ridiculous. The sharp-witted First Prince just dealt a blow to everyone. Thanks to that, we benefit, and Derga has basically sealed his own death.”
Ian placed the letter on a candle and burned it. The more Mollin and Erika, who were on the same side, fell out, the easier things would go.
“When advisor Romandro arrives, we must treat him well. The First Prince Marib probably suspects Mollin and me are colluding, maybe thinking we’re aligned with the Second Prince’s faction.”
“But Mollin will resent us, won’t he?”
Especially Ian. Even if Derga’s accusations were true, Ian bringing the Cheonryeo tribe into the picture wasn’t part of Mollin’s plan. It had made occupying the territory more difficult.
“That’s why we need to clarify our position carefully. It would be troublesome if we got beaten from both sides.”
“You seem to lean toward the First Prince.”
“…He is the legitimate heir and successor. Also, he is the one officially entrusted by the palace to rebuild the territory. Depending on his judgment, the Cheonryeo tribe’s withdrawal timing may be decided.”
Ian was of imperial blood. Though his reign had been brief—only a few years—he had ascended through the proper line of succession. This meant he understood the inner workings of the imperial palace better than anyone else. Even considering the rise of Gale, the second prince, the legitimacy of Ian’s lineage couldn’t be dismissed.
“I was just about to bring this up,” Kakhantir said. “Once Derga is dead, our mission will be complete. Before autumn arrives, we’ll start sending the warriors back to the desert, little by little.”
“Yes, I have that in mind.”
“I want you to understand that coaxing the central powers and securing the lordship depends entirely on your skill, Lord Ian.”
Unspoken but clear in his tone was the warning: do this well, or all the warriors’ efforts will have been for nothing.
Ian smiled faintly and nodded.
“Then I’ll hasten preparations for Derga’s execution. Once it’s done, Captain Erika and the remaining forces will be sent out of Bratz. As for handling the body…”
“That’s enough. What use is a rotting corpse? We just want to be the ones to end Derga’s life ourselves.”
Kakhantir’s sly, easygoing eyes suddenly sharpened with cold resolve.
That evening, as the sky turned a deep violet, Kakhantir’s falcon, Jeno, returned safely to Bratz. The Khan carefully inspected the bird’s red and blonde feathers wrapped in cloth, then scratched its neck with satisfaction.
“Mary and Chel are dead.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Good.”
Shadows cloaked the moment, so Ian’s expression remained unreadable. The warriors exchanged fist bumps, celebrating the successful completion of another step in their mission.
“I think we’ll be back tonight.”
“Demosha!”
“Demosha!”
Kakhantir brushed the wind from his hair as it whipped around him. Like a corpse lost forever, the strands scattered and vanished into the air.
Cheers erupted among the warriors, glad for their comrade’s safe return. Ian, however, stared at the half-bent banner of Bratz before turning away.
In just a few days, that emblem would be erased from history.