Chapter 104

“Miss! Have you heard?”

“What is it that has you making such a fuss so early in the morning?” Odelliana asked, lifting her gaze.

“The allied forces won the Battle of Osades Ridge!”

“That’s good news.”

“It was a decisive victory!” the maid continued breathlessly. “They say fewer than thirty barbarians who fought at Osades survived. And on top of that, one allied knight personally took the enemy commander’s head. Do you know who it was?”

…No way.

“It was Sir Matthias!”

The news arrived like sudden rain after a long drought. Odelliana shuddered.

“…It was really Matthias?”

“Yes. He fought at the very front lines of the Battle of Osades Ridge and cut down the enemy commander himself.”

It was a truly monumental achievement. The credit for taking the head of the enemy’s lead commander belonged to Matthias. Simply knowing he was alive would have been enough to bring her joy, but the fact that he had distinguished himself on the fiercest battlefield made her heart pound as though it might burst.

“Which unit is he with?”

“A unit directly under the First Knight Order.”

“Not the Second Knight Order?”

“Yes, the First.”

The tide of war tilted decisively in the allies’ favor. The campaign against the barbarians hiding in Mount Nevis appeared to be progressing smoothly as well. Three months after the landmark victory at Osades, news arrived that yet another enemy commander’s head had been taken. Once again, it was Matthias’s doing.

It was around this time that the rumors of a war demon wielding a pitch-black sword began to spread. Tales of a knight who fought with a strange, ominous blade entirely black from hilt to tip traveled through the kingdom in the songs of bards and the gossip of thrill seekers.

According to the stories, a low-ranking knight selected by Leon, commander of the First Knight Order that protected Prince Belnias, served under him and carried a peculiar habit. He tied a handkerchief embroidered with grotesque stitching to the hilt of his sword. Add to that the reputation that his single strikes severed heads with artistic precision, along with the military merit of beheading two commanders, and the crowds erupted in fervor, proclaiming the birth of a new savior of the realm.

“Pfft. A grotesque handkerchief,” Odelliana muttered.

Malena hesitated, lips pressed together.

“Ah, forgive me. It was just too amusing,” Odelliana chuckled. “Was it really that unsightly? Enough for people to describe the embroidery as grotesque?”

“Well… it was hard to tell what it was supposed to be,” Malena admitted. “Still, thanks to that distinctive handkerchief, there’s no doubt the knight in question really is Sir Matthias and not someone with the same name.”

“…Ha.”

“They say he treasures it like his life. He keeps it tied to his sword at all times and even washes it every day. Honestly… doesn’t that mean he’s still holding on, thinking only of you, Miss?”

Yes. Dutiful to the very end.

The news that reached her nearly two years after his departure was unbearably warm. Even amid the chaos of war, the fact that he had not forgotten this place, that he had not forgotten her, sent a shiver through her entire body.

***

Naked men and women, bodies tangled together without distinction, filled the area. Prostitutes who had followed the war to sell their bodies and soldiers relieving their urges with them were a common sight at the front, unconcerned with time or place.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Don’t just sit there like some nobleman and watch. Why not pick one while you have the chance? There are plenty of whores still looking for a partner.”

No sooner had the fellow knight finished speaking than the gazes of the prostitutes spilling out of the brothel turned toward Matthias. The young knight who had earned great merit in battle was the object of many people’s desire. His cruel and emotionless temperament was rendered almost irrelevant by his striking looks.

Even as they entangled themselves with others, the nearby prostitutes kept stealing glances at Matthias rather than focusing on their current partners. He was excellent eye candy to them. His face, illuminated by dim moonlight, gleamed as though painted by an artist. How could a human look so mysterious and beautiful? Their admiring gazes, filled with unrestrained hunger, bordered on voyeurism.

They satisfied their visual cravings simply by looking at him, their lust intensifying all the more. Their eyes, glazed as they writhed and cried out in pleasure, were low and unpleasant enough to make even onlookers uncomfortable.

Yet Matthias, the unwilling focus of countless lewd gazes, remained aloof. His calm, indifferent expression only served to inflame those who desired him.

“That handsome face of yours attracts both men and women,” one soldier remarked with a sneer. “Watching you while they’re in someone else’s arms. How terribly shallow.”

“Or are you just asexual?”

At the taunting remark, Matthias let out a quiet snort.

“I don’t go into heat for just anyone.”

“More virtuous than you look,” the soldier said. “I bet you hear a lot about how your face goes to waste.”

“Virtuous?” Matthias echoed.

A low laugh slipped from his lips, as though he had heard something absurd. Since he rarely laughed at all, even such a sardonic sound drew curious looks from the soldiers around him.

“Hardly.”

Unfortunately, he was not virtuous in the slightest. Even as he watched the frantic coupling of bodies, legs spread and hips rocking wildly, a single woman already occupied his thoughts. The deeper his longing for her grew, the darker and filthier his desires became. His heat cycles came irregularly, tormenting him without warning.

Whether the heat raged or subsided, his mind was constantly filled with the image of gripping her slender legs, spreading them apart, and thrusting himself into the wet heat between them. It was a fantasy that dominated his thoughts every day. It was simply hidden beneath a placid exterior. Even now, the desire surging toward her had not diminished.

“Still, in the middle of a war like this, it’s hard to endure without releasing yourself from time to time,” another soldier insisted. “Let it build up too much and it becomes a sickness. If you don’t like women, there are plenty of men. Men have their own appeal. In some ways, they’re even better than women.”

Matthias ignored the surrounding encouragement with ease. What he wanted was one woman, not a prostitute who would spread her legs for anyone. From the beginning, there had never been space in his heart for the likes of whores. No matter how nakedly they clung to him, his body did not respond, nor did he have the stomach to grab just anyone and thrust into them.

He rose from his seat and retreated into his tent. The tent he used alone, granted through the favor of Leon, commander of the First Knight Order, was quiet but poorly insulated. It was clearly not a place where one could sleep comfortably.

Moans rose from all directions, striking his ears. The wet sounds of flesh slapping against flesh mixed with cries of pleasure, creating a raucous dawn.

He collapsed onto the blanket, set his sword beside him, and untied the handkerchief bound to its hilt. Bringing it to his nose, he drew in a breath. Her scent had long since faded, yet even the faint, imagined trace of it calmed his heart while making his lower abdomen grow heavy.

“…Ha.”

A man who did not so much as blink at the obscene coupling of soldiers and prostitutes went into heat over the faintly lingering scent on a mere handkerchief. He frowned, clearly troubled. He wanted to abandon the war entirely and rush back to Eisenwald to take her into his arms.

Perhaps it was fortunate that the war was dragging on longer than expected. If he could return right now, he might lose his reason entirely and press his master beneath him. If that was to happen anyway, then he needed to meet at least the minimum conditions to avoid public condemnation. For him, what mattered was not the end of the war, but the time remaining until adulthood.

One more year.

One year until he came of age. As he counted the remaining time, a low smile curved his lips. The closer that moment drew, the greater his exhilaration grew. All that remained was to align the end of the war with his coming of age. The true spoils of this campaign were not the heads of barbarian chieftains, nor the items she had asked him to retrieve.

My master.

Kind, beautiful, and foolish, she would become the most perfect prize awaiting him when he returned from the war.

***

Despite the string of victories, Jocelyn was in an exceptionally foul mood.

Of all people, why did that wretched bastard end up under Leon?

The hero of the Battle of Osades Ridge was Matthias, and of all places, he had attached himself to the First Knight Order. Having departed as part of the Eisenwald expeditionary force, he was now a knight active within the First Order, protected by its commander Leon as he wreaked havoc across the front lines.

As a result, Matthias, the knight whose exploits were currently the talk of the realm, had become a thorn in Jocelyn’s side. His possessive desire to claim him clashed with the growing resentment provoked by the knight’s movements.

“At this rate, that lowborn knight may steal all the military merit,” an aide warned. “He is already being called a war demon and is sweeping across the battlefield. Even the barbarians are trying to avoid direct confrontation with him.”

Jocelyn didn’t answer.

“He has already taken the heads of three enemy commanders.”

“My elder brother truly has the worst luck,” Jocelyn sneered. “While some people slog through hell on the front lines, others sit comfortably and reap the rewards. Does the man favored by the heavens receive divine protection or something? Everything just falls into his lap without effort. It’s damnably enviable.”

The Royal First Knight Order was effectively the personal guard of the First Prince, Belnias. The prince, who valued peace and stability, was cautious rather than aggressive. As a result, the First Knight Order dispatched to the barbarian suppression was only about a third the size of the Second Order, more a gesture than a serious commitment.

That Matthias had caught Leon’s eye and been selected by him was regrettable enough, but the consequences were now painfully clear. The military merits of beheading three commanders across three battles all accrued to the First Knight Order. While Prince Belnias lay confined to his palace, groaning in a sickbed, his faction monopolized the glory. Jocelyn’s fury reached its peak.

“How did a man whose very survival was uncertain end up in the First Knight Order?”

“According to what we confirmed, he sought out the First Knight Order himself,” the aide replied cautiously.

“And the Royal Knight Order, with all its pride, accepted a straggler without suspicion?”

“…He appeared when the First Knight Order was in danger and assisted them.”

“And of all people, he just had to save those bastards,” Jocelyn muttered. “That contrarian streak really does resemble his owner.”

Matthias’s existence had thrown Jocelyn’s plans into disarray. The only one who could truly control him was Odelliana, yet that mad dog was now far from her reach, unable to stretch its leash. It rendered the situation meaningless.

“Before things get any worse… should we not eliminate him?” the aide suggested quietly.

“…It is too soon to kill him.”

No matter how irritating he was, the unprecedented knight was alluring enough to make Jocelyn hesitate. A low-ranking knight with overwhelming power. He wanted that hero under his command at any cost. The fact that the dog’s owner was currently within his grasp only made it harder to let go.

If he could properly coax Odelliana into joining his side, Matthias would surely follow. Killing him was therefore postponed. That said, leaving him unchecked was also a problem.

“Do not kill him. For now, make sure he is injured enough that he cannot take the field.”

“As you command.”

After Aidas departed, Jocelyn remained alone, rubbing his throbbing temples.

Thinking of Matthias naturally brought Odelliana to mind, and with her came a cascade of questions.

First, the inexplicable abilities of Lady Odelliana, who should have been a foolish simpleton. Second, why a budding prodigy of overwhelming skill would pledge blind loyalty to a crippled woman. Third, the duke’s true intentions in keeping her alive while concealing the family’s disgrace. And fourth, Odelliana’s fierce hostility toward him, which seemed excessive even accounting for their poor first meeting.

It was this last point that troubled Jocelyn the most.

It was not a light dislike. At times, she forgot to conceal the killing intent, something closer to deep-seated hatred.

Why?

The only offense he could recall was their first encounter. It had been rude, yes, but hardly enough to inspire such venom. Her inexplicable hostility hindered any progress in their relationship. She remained cold toward him at all times, sometimes treating him like a disgusting insect, provoking his temper.

And yet, that was precisely why he found himself growing more impatient. Whether positively or negatively, she captured his interest and attention. She was not easily tamed, which only stoked his competitive spirit.

No matter what he did, he was met with rigid antagonism, yet at times she saw straight through him. Despite loathing him, she understood him far too well. When she guessed his tastes, his personality, even his trivial habits, he found himself pleased, thinking she must be paying him some attention. Among all the women he had known, she was the most difficult to understand and therefore the most alluring.

Matthias, active on the front lines. And the crippled lady who moved him like a piece on a chessboard.

Jocelyn wanted them both. And so he wanted to know more.

He summoned the knights waiting outside.

“Investigate Lady Odelliana’s birth and life in greater detail,” he ordered. “It seems House Grüsewald is hiding something. Keep a close eye on their movements as well.”

The knights nodded, and at that moment hurried footsteps approached. A soldier burst into the tent, breathless.

“Your Highness!”

“What is it?”

Panting heavily, the soldier delivered grim news.

“We have received a dispatch. Ten thousand enemy troops are advancing toward Eisenwald!”

Jocelyn’s eyes went cold as he questioned him.

“Ten thousand? The barbarians’ regular forces should not be that large.”

“We have confirmed that it is an army led by Lycan Droif, the barbarian supreme commander. It appears they intend to make Eisenwald their new stronghold and are committing to an all-out offensive!”

“…Lycan Droif?” Jocelyn murmured. “Was he not sighted in Mount Nevis just two days ago?”

Then realization struck.

“It was a diversion. We were deceived.”

He rose to his feet.

“Reorganize the troops immediately. We march for Eisenwald.”