Chapter 114
* * *
Giliphos's Residence.
“Master, it is a letter sent by Princess Her Highness.”
“Tsk, a guy who calls himself a knight has now become a complete lady's servant.”
The elderly veteran general snorted and reached out his hand. His voice was blunt, yet filled with strength.
“Give me Her Highness’s letter first.”
Rustle.
Giliphos's expression gradually hardened as he unfurled the letter.
“Is—is this... for real? That the Rebels are moving north to strike the Royal Capital?”
Neril nodded.
Giliphos looked down at the map again after confirming the scale and direction of the Rebels' advance written in the letter.
He shook his head. He still couldn't believe it.
“To think it's now, of all times. Both the timing and the scale are truly bizarre. In these difficult times, where on earth did they procure the manpower?”
It was a time when most young men were out on the battlefield.
No matter how many commoners were gathered, such a large number could not be assembled all at once.
“Including the leadership of the Rebels, some are mercenaries hired with money. They gathered the commoners through justifications and brainwashing. If we deal with them, the rest will easily scatter.”
It meant this was no ordinary civil uprising.
“What kind of scoundrels are trying to defile this country again!”
Giliphos slammed the table with a bang and let out a roar of anger.
The Princess, who used to be the Regent Duke’s puppet, had transformed one day and begun pruning the rotten branches one by one.
He thought Baldina was finally seeing a new light, but he was truly indignant that corrupt seeds yet to be weeded out were still trying to ruin the country.
Could they not see the efforts of the young Princess trying to somehow raise this shaking nation?
Deep regret and anger welled up at how everyone only sought to look out for their own interests.
“Is it the Regent Duke? The one trying to cause this disaster?”
Giliphos asked abruptly.
Giliphos was also well aware of the Regent Duke’s cornered situation. This was because voices criticizing him were loud even outside the Royal Capital.
“...”
“Why can't you answer? I asked if it was Claudio!”
Giliphos was almost certain.
That the only one wicked enough to shake the very existence of this country solely for his own selfishness was someone like Hoakin Claudio.
“Marquis Giliphos is a great man who loves his fatherland more than anyone. But he is excessively straight. What is straight is bound to break, and I have no need for a hunter who cannot wait for the hunt.”
Recalling the Princess’s words, Neril stared straight at him.
“If I were to tell you that, Master, you would immediately rush to the castle and strike his head. Then all the plans Her Highness has prepared would go to waste.”
“You rascal...”
“Do you think it will end just because one Regent Duke disappears? Soon, a second and third Regent Duke will emerge. To pull out these weeds that have long taken root in Baldina, it is useless to swing a dull blade multiple times.”
“...”
Giliphos caught his breath for a moment.
His reason, which had settled coldly with his inhaled breath, chewed over his disciple's words. And he could not deny them.
Then Neril added.
“Her Highness has commanded that we prevent them from entering the castle, but to leave them be so they can march right up to the Castle Walls.”
“For what reason?”
Giliphos simply could not understand the Princess’s bizarre command.
Wasn't it the best policy to suppress the Rebels entirely and leave not a single spark of a flame?
‘It won't be easy to suppress them if even mercenaries are involved.’
In combat, the difference between those who know war and those who don't is vast.
‘It will be difficult to block them with only the current Royal Capital guard, who have almost no combat experience.’
However, inside the Royal Capital, there were forces to reinforce them.
‘Inside the Royal Capital, there are veterans. Forces with rich battlefield experience who can replace the guards.’
Had the Princess’s 'plan' begun ever since she established the relief centers to help them?
Only then did Giliphos understand Neril’s words. And the unbelievable footsteps the Princess had taken thus far.
‘I truly misjudged her. I failed to recognize the material of a monarch.’
A cold shiver ran through his aged, stiff body.
If every single step she took had been calculated from the beginning...
Then there must be a reason for this currently incomprehensible command as well.
“I understand. Tell her not to worry, for I shall not ruin things with rashness.”
In that case, his job was to assist the Princess. To become a large and heavy, yet powerful sword that the Princess could wield.
His wrinkled eyes finally took on a sharp glint. Giliphos nodded slowly.
“I shall make thorough preparations.”
Neril bowed deeply.
“Thank you very much, Master.”
Shortly after, left alone, Giliphos looked at the weapons hanging on the wall.
“Hmph, traitors...”
After examining each one with careful deliberation, he finally picked up the most brutal-looking mace among them.
A familiar yet chilling tension flowed down Giliphos's back.
“To think a day would come in my life when this old man would hold this again.”
His trembling voice somehow sounded a bit excited.
* * *
“Neril, are you going straight to the palace?”
“No, Butler. I have one more place to stop by. Where is Tom?”
Before leaving Giliphos's residence, Neril looked for Tom.
Hearing that he was at the training grounds, Neril headed there.
At the training grounds, a duel between trainees dripping with sweat was in full swing.
“Yo, friend. What brings you here?”
Tom, who was teaching them swordsmanship, greeted Neril.
“You guys know the Princess of Baldina, right? The one I’ve talked about until my lips were dry and worn out.”
It seemed Tom had been bragging quite a bit about the fact that he had once served the Princess.
“My friend here is her closest aide, currently active as her servant and knight!”
“Woooooah!”
A thunderous cheer erupted from the training grounds.
“Hahaha, you rascals. Do you finally realize the greatness of this master?”
Whether he failed to see Neril’s piercing gaze or not, Tom sent a greeting in response to the crowd's cheers.
Neril wore an exasperated expression.
“Tom, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Princess Her Highness ordered it, right? What is it? What is it this time?”
Tom, who had hurriedly chased the trainees away, had eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Instead of answering, Neril reached into her clothes and held something out. It was a small box about the size of a child's palm.
Tom opened the box with a suspicious expression.
Wrapped in fine and precious paper was a handful of brown hair and a silver necklace.
“Why hair?”
“Handle it with care.”
“Saya, what is this?”
Neril, too, could not hide her bewilderment when she first saw it. It was when Medeia had gone missing at the hunting grounds.
“It’s a common superstition from the streets where I used to live. They say if you put a handful of hair together with your most cherished item and pray, your family will be safe... Of course, I believe Her Highness will return without any trouble, but I was just so anxious...”
The girl, who had been isolated alone for a long time in the dangerous slums, felt a deep fear of someone next to her disappearing.
Neril realized that this was Saya's way of resolving her own anxiety.
Later, when the returned Medeia learned the circumstances of the box, she looked down at it with an unreadable expression.
“Saya, may I keep this?”
The Princess pointed to the faded silver necklace that Saya said she shared with her twin brother.
And she handed over the bracelet she had received from Peleus on her seventh birthday.
“Ah, mine is far too humble...! This is Your Highness’s most precious item. You look at it every time before you sleep!”
Even though Saya repeatedly shook her head and declined, Medeia insisted on pressing the bracelet into her hand.
Neril recalled the day she first brought Saya from Asylum Street.
“Please take me with you. I don't want to stay here.”
“You might regret having me as your master. Will you still be okay with that?”
Neril knew this was her apology to Saya.
Since she had accepted and used the other's goodwill, she, too, had offered up her most cherished item.
“Tom, among the Rebels currently moving north toward the Royal Capital, there is a man named Theo.”
“Rebels? So there was a reason you visited the residence after so long.”
An amused look appeared on Tom's face as he took the box.
“He's the strategist for the leadership, so he won't be hard to find. I want you to secretly deliver this to him. Be careful not to get caught.”
“You know my skills.”
Tom tilted his chin up arrogantly. Like a warrior with a strong competitive spirit, he showed no fear.
“Right.”
Neril swallowed a sigh, finding Tom's always-confident attitude both funny and absurd.
“And, from now on, there are no payments. Keep that in mind.”
“What? For real? Really?”
Even at the news that he wouldn't receive money, Tom's face brightened like a full moon.
“Then, does that mean I’m officially one of Princess Her Highness’s people now?”
Tom's freckled cheeks puffed up with joy.
After many months of giving up hope and finding meaning just in carrying out the Princess’s orders together, his wish had finally come true.
“Just leave it to me!”