Chapter 65

Odelliana had been awake for a long while, yet she lay still in bed, paralyzed by the relentless swirl of her thoughts. They weighed on her so heavily that even the act of sitting up felt impossible.

What exactly is Matthias?

Perhaps it was only now—after realizing how little she truly knew—that her curiosity began to surface. The confidence, even pride, she’d once held in believing she understood him better than anyone was beginning to crumble.

All she truly knew about his real nature was a single, vague fact: he was a wolf. And even that had come secondhand from Joslin. She had never seen it for herself, never witnessed the transformation. It was nothing more than a murky truth, passed along like folklore.

There were so many questions burning inside her. What are you, really? How powerful are you, and what kind of life have you lived? Why, as a beast, do you wear the face of a man—and why tie yourself to a limping woman like me? She didn’t just want to know his goals; she longed to understand the unseen narrative behind them.

You had the strength to swim in much bigger waters. You didn’t need to wander through slums like Köbeck. You had the power to fight off the kids who tormented you. And if you’d wanted, you could have become a knight—without someone like me.

You don’t need someone like me.

And the moment that truth dawned on her, her desire to know him vanished.

Not because he was some enigmatic creature cloaked in mystery—but because she feared the answer. She feared that his unwavering devotion, his quiet loyalty, might be nothing more than a game. A performance. A fleeting amusement in the palm of his hand.

Her arrogant claim to guide his life—her self-appointed role as his patron, his protector—now felt hollow, even laughable. In hindsight, it was as if she’d been dancing on strings, all the while unaware that the puppeteer was him. It hadn’t been her who tamed him with care or effort. He had simply chosen, of his own volition, to play along.

What had felt like a desperate struggle for survival to her might have been nothing more than a passing amusement to a sixteen-year-old boy. A game he could abandon the moment it bored him.

It’s not me showing mercy to Matthias. It’s me relying on his.

Could a bond like this truly exist without terms, without cost? What are you trying to gain from this senseless attachment?

For the first time, her young disciple truly frightened her.

* * *

The collapse of part of Eisenwald’s fortress wall under Vanagand’s attack sent shockwaves throughout the territory.

Lord Blair immediately reported the incident to Duke Schaller and dispatched a secret letter requesting reinforcements. Without delay, he poured both the territory’s remaining funds and his own personal wealth into ordering the wall’s reconstruction. He also deployed Eisenwald’s forces along the outer battlements in an effort to brace for further attacks from the beasts.

But to call it preparedness would have been generous. In truth, the situation was a mess.

Years of peace had dulled the city’s knights. Complacent and undisciplined, they moved sluggishly, and their poorly maintained equipment was all but useless. Worse still, there were neither the materials nor the skilled manpower needed to forge new weapons or armor.

Panic swept through the region. To the terrified residents, Vanagand was no longer just a beast—it had become a living embodiment of the “curse of the calamity god.” Some began to hurriedly pack their belongings, preparing to flee. But thankfully, most chose to stay, unwilling to abandon the land they had spent their lives cultivating. Instead, they turned their fear into action, choosing to help rebuild the wall.

The reconstruction began swiftly. Despite their anxiety, the townspeople rallied in their own way, spurred into unity by the speeches Blair delivered as he personally visited every corner of Eisenwald.

He spoke not with empty reassurances, but with honesty. In each address, he acknowledged the grim reality—the dire lack of manpower, troops, and resources—and yet he never wavered in his promise to protect Eisenwald. His passion, his refusal to abandon the land or its people, resonated deeply.

They say a heartfelt word can repay even the greatest debt. Blair’s sincerity became the glue that held Eisenwald together just when it threatened to fall apart.

His resolve, his sense of duty as lord, gave the people something they hadn’t felt in days: hope. He didn’t bark orders. He didn’t posture. He asked—genuinely—for their help. He laid out the challenges ahead, proposed real solutions, and held nothing back.

They say sincerity moves hearts—and this time, it proved true.

Young and old, women and children alike rolled up their sleeves. The women prepared and distributed meals to the workers and soldiers, while the children helped however they could—clearing debris, running errands, and lending small but vital hands. The men—whether elderly, middle-aged, or just boys—threw themselves into the reconstruction efforts with determination.

“As expected, the younger son is better suited to lead the family. The Grüsewalds lost a true talent.”

When it came to leadership, Blair had proven himself the obvious choice.

This incident made it clear.

Public opinion in Eisenwald had been at its lowest. No one had welcomed the appointment of the young Lord Blair. And with the appearance of the beast Vanagand and the destruction of the fortress wall, the already fragile sense of order teetered on the edge of collapse. It was a moment that could have easily descended into chaos—looting, riots, or worse. But Blair held the line. He rose to the challenge.

“Milady, as instructed, I’ve contacted the heads of each merchant guild and placed the orders,” Marco reported, stepping into the room with a respectful bow.

“Good,” Odelliana replied, without looking up from her desk. “Would you mind sorting and organizing the itemized list as well? I’ll enter it into the ledger right away.”

“Understood, my lady,” he said, already turning to carry out her request.

Marco paused for a moment, watching her work. A small smile played on his lips as he spoke again. “The lord was quite surprised by your abilities, my lady. You’re truly remarkable. Why have you hidden such talent until now?”

“I didn’t hide it,” Odelliana answered calmly, her pen still moving across the page. “I just never had the chance to use it.”

“He was puzzled,” Marco said with a chuckle, “but also deeply grateful.”

“That’s a relief,” she said softly, her eyes flicking briefly toward the window. “My brother will likely be very busy for a while. He’ll have to keep overseeing the site until the situation stabilizes. Still, I’m glad Duke Schaller replied quickly.”

“A legendary beast isn’t something a lord can overlook lightly,” Marco replied, folding his hands behind his back. “He had no choice but to respond swiftly. Fortunately, he’s sending reinforcements and a large shipment of emergency relief supplies. Donations from neighboring territories are arriving as well.”

“Then our first step should be to assess the scale and type of those supplies,” she said, tapping the end of her pen against the desk. “Could you bring me the schedule for the next merchant visits?”

“I’ll deliver it right away, my lady,” Marco said with a bow before turning to leave.

With Blair often away at the construction site, the head steward had quietly shifted the reins of daily governance into Odelliana’s hands. Marco now served not as her superior, but as her assistant—treating her, in all but name, as the true master of the estate.

Even Malena threw herself into the work, taking on the duties of the senior maids in addition to her own. She accompanied Odelliana on her visits to the charity house, assisting with nearly every task.

“Quite the storm to walk into, my lady,” Malena remarked one afternoon, wiping her hands on her apron. “Are you managing alright?”

“I’m actually glad there’s something I can do,” Odelliana replied with a calm smile.

“With all this talent, it’s hard to believe how you were treated before.”

At that, Odelliana gave a quiet, wry smile. “Even if you have ability, if there’s no place to show it… it just withers away.”

“But where did you learn all this?” Malena asked, curious. “The Grüsewald servants said you never received any formal education. And accounting isn’t something just anyone can jump into.”

“I taught myself,” Odelliana said simply. “And more than half the rumors about me are exaggerated lies. You really believed them?”

“Hm. Is that so?” Malena tilted her head, then grinned. “Well… Sir Matthias passed the knight’s exam too, and I doubt he had much formal training either.”

Odelliana chuckled. “What, seeing me like this makes me seem different somehow?”

“You look far more alive now,” Malena said warmly. “And that’s a joy to see.”

“I think so too,” Odelliana murmured. “For the first time… I feel alive.”

Compared to the days spent in helpless lethargy, this day—busy, demanding, exhausting—was full of meaning. It felt good to be needed. It brought her joy to realize that even in a fragile body, she could still be of use.

How had she never known this kind of happiness? Once, blinded by devotion to a single man, she had thought it an honor to stain her hands with blood for his sake.

“Once things settle down here,” she said suddenly, “I’m thinking of learning horseback riding. Or swordsmanship. Will you help me?”

“…Pardon?” Malena blinked. “Why would a noble lady want to learn something so rough? It won’t be easy with your condition.”

“There may come a time when I need to protect myself.”

“Well… swordsmanship might be doable,” Malena said cautiously. “But horseback riding? That’s dangerous.”

“Teach me anyway,” Odelliana said firmly. “I plan to push myself as far as I can go.”

Malena was taken aback. The young lady who once lived like a ghost, drifting through each day in silence, had become someone entirely new—driven, determined, alive. The change in her was startling.

Like a bird that had never stretched its wings in a cage, the moment she stepped outside, she soared. Even within the bars, she had carried herself with poise—but now, she revealed a strength far greater than Malena had ever imagined.

Malena smiled to herself as she watched her mistress from a distance. More than anything, she was proud of her own judgment—but so what? It was a stroke of luck to serve a woman like this.

“You said you’d return in glory after four years,” she murmured under her breath.

And now, Malena felt it—vague, but growing—a sense that such an impossible promise might truly come to pass.