Ch#230
The sight of soldiers carrying torches patrolling the building’s perimeter came into view.
Perhaps because most of the forces had been diverted to the outer walls in preparation for a night raid, the security of the inner castle was relatively loose, yet armed guards still stood firm near the main keep.
Hiding behind the loading docks where wagons were lined up, he observed the sentries’ patrol routes before moving toward the donjon that towered in the very center of the fortress.
Just then, he saw a group of men carrying torches pouring out of the building.
Varkas remained hidden in the darkness, observing them intently. Heavy knights with the massive builds typical of Northerners were crossing the parade ground toward the castle gate.
Varkas narrowed his eyes as he spotted a giant of a man with mane-like, grizzled blonde hair among them. Even from a considerable distance, he recognized him at once as Bjorn Blodar Heimdall.
‘…Has he sensed something?’
He watched the man’s receding back for a moment before turning away to move toward the rear of the main castle. He had to find Gares before the security grew any tighter.
Keeping himself hidden in the deep shadows, he moved swiftly along the walls.
Before long, he found a small side door at the back of the stone building connected to the main keep.
He grabbed the handle and gave it a light tug. It was bolted, but it didn’t look particularly sturdy.
Wrapping his cloak around the area where the lock was installed, he pulled the door handle with a powerful yank. With a sharp crack, the handle and a portion of the wooden planking were torn away. It made a fair amount of noise, but fortunately, it didn’t seem to have attracted anyone’s attention.
He opened the door cautiously and stepped inside.
The musty scent of grain and the gamey smell of cured meat stung his nose, suggesting the space was used as a larder. After surveying the large room filled with stacks of dry bread, ham, and cheese, Varkas soon exited and stepped into a dim corridor.
At that moment, he sensed a presence nearby.
Varkas hid behind a pillar and looked toward the source of the sound. A massive man clad in heavy armor and a slight, middle-aged man were descending the stairs.
Their voices echoed faintly in the silent space.
“Just how long must we tolerate that brat? If the Imperial Family has no intention of paying the ransom, we should take his head immediately and appease the Grand Duke’s grudge!”
“I understand your feelings, but we cannot kill the Crown Prince right now. He still holds value as a hostage.”
The middle-aged man spoke in an authoritative tone.
“It is not just the Imperial Family that desires the Crown Prince’s safe return. Behind him are various conservative nobles led by Marquess Orestein. Furthermore, the Imperial Loyalists who revere Emperor Darian will also raise their voices to save the Crown Prince. If we stall for time until they sway public opinion, the Emperor will eventually be forced to negotiate.”
“But will the Empress just sit back and watch? That woman won’t want to miss this opportunity either.”
“The more aggressively that witch acts, the more extreme the backlash from the conservative nobles will be. The traditionalists’ antipathy toward the Empress is beyond imagination. The fact that the Noble Alliance is treating that brat with any leniency is largely due to their resentment toward the Taren family.”
The middle-aged man, having countered with a calm tone, patted the giant’s shoulder and added.
“So, we cannot conclude that negotiations have failed just yet. It may be emotionally difficult, but please humor that brat’s whims just a little longer.”
Without giving the man a chance to complain further, he walked across the hall and exited.
The massive man glared at his back in dissatisfaction, spat on the floor, and stomped back up the stairs with a menacing air.
Varkas followed him immediately.
Taking large strides, the man climbed to the third floor and exited through a door at the end of the corridor.
Approaching the entrance the man had passed through after a slight delay, a walkway illuminated by torches and the castle tower at its end came into view.
Estimating the floor level of the building, Varkas cautiously stepped through the arched entrance and past the stone gallery.
Just as he was about to climb the stairs, he heard a short intake of breath behind him. Varkas reacted instantly.
Grabbing the head of a soldier standing awkwardly halfway up the stairs, he slammed him against the wall and immediately pulled the mechanism on his bracer to draw a dagger. He then stabbed the man in the neck repeatedly.
The soldier let out a gurgling sound as blood from his carotid artery flooded his windpipe, and he went limp a few seconds later.
As he was about to drag the body out of the tower, a gravelly voice rang out from above.
“I-Intruder! There’s an intruder…!”
A soldier wielding a spear scrambled down the stairs.
Varkas immediately drew his longsword from his waist and swung it diagonally at the fleeing soldier. The blade, extending like a flash of light, pierced through the soldier’s shoulder and exited through his opposite flank.
The soldier’s body, sliced in two in an instant, sprayed blood as it tumbled down the stairs. The guards who rushed into the tower a moment later froze at the sight.
Varkas did not miss that split second.
Driving his blood-stained sword into the chest of the nearest soldier, Varkas sent the body tumbling down the stairs.
Two soldiers charging with their spears were knocked down the stairs by the weight of their falling comrade. But there was no time to catch his breath. Hearing the commotion, more soldiers began to swarm in.
‘It seems slipping out quietly is out of the question.’
Tsking softly, Varkas immediately ran up the stairs toward the upper levels.
As if a significant number of guards had been stationed at the top of the tower, massive soldiers carrying battle axes could be seen stomping down the spiral stone staircase.
He lightly parried a giant axe blade that came crashing down like a lightning bolt above his head, then immediately slit the soldier’s throat. He then pivoted to avoid the heavy body collapsing toward him and struck the face of the soldier behind with his pommel.
With a sickening thud, dark red blood erupted through the gaps of the helmet covering the soldier’s face.
Reflexively dropping his weapon, the man clutched his face with both hands and let out a shriek.
Varkas did not hesitate and brought his sword down to end the soldier’s agony.
But before he could climb further, new enemies surged forward. He drove his blade into a soldier charging at him and used the body to push his way up the stairs.
The soldier, turned into a makeshift shield, screamed and struggled violently. The other soldiers flinched and drew back at the sight.
While they hesitated, unable to swing their blades at their comrade, Varkas drew his sword like a flash and cut down the enemies one by one.
He had dealt with three enemies in an instant, but there was no sign of a path opening up. This time, spearmen were flooding in from the floor below.
Varkas gripped the blood-slicked hilt of his sword with both hands. Soon, not just the inner castle guards but the regular army would arrive. He could not face all those enemies alone.
Should he attempt an escape now?
As he wavered for a moment, the loud blast of a horn echoed from afar.
He looked out the window. It seemed the air raid had commenced as planned. He saw soldiers with torches swarming toward the castle gate.
Varkas immediately entered a combat stance. The main force would be preoccupied for a while dealing with the Imperial Army. He had to seize this moment.
He swung his sword ruthlessly at the soldier charging toward him.
“You brought this garbage for me to eat?!”
Gares picked up a goblet and hurled it at the wall. With a dull thud, the dark wine trickled down the wall like a bloodstain.
Watching the scene, the bloodshot eyes of the Northerner glared sharply at him.
Gares purposefully tilted his chin high, trying not to show any sign of intimidation.
“Bring proper wine this instant!”
“Your Imperial Highness,” the man said, huffing. “You seem to be under a great delusion right now, but you are a prisoner.”
The giant, standing nearly seven kvets tall, leaned in close to him, his breath coming in heavy snorts.
“You are not some guest to be treated with utmost hospitality. If you don’t behave, we might feed you our waste instead of wine.”
“H-How dare… a lowly noble speak to the Crown Prince of the Empire…!”
Gares’s face boiled red with rage.
The Northerner, looking down at him with arms crossed over his chest, let out an overt sneer.
“Even if you were the Crown Prince’s grandfather rather than the Crown Prince himself, a prisoner is just a prisoner. Your life is in our hands.”
His rough hand gripped Gares’s shoulder tightly.
“So if you don’t want to suffer a terrible fate, please just shut your mouth.”
Gares clenched his teeth so hard his jaw felt like it might break.
He wanted to snap this filthy traitor’s neck right now, but he had no way to overpower this giant with his bare hands. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The jailer, looking down at him mockingly, walked slowly to the door and slumped into a velvet chair. It seemed he intended to watch him in the same room all night.
After he had been caught attempting to escape several times, the Northerners had not left him alone for a single moment.
Gares kicked the table violently. Plates and cutlery crashed to the floor with a loud clatter.
As if used to this level of tantrum, the jailer didn’t even blink and calmly oiled his greatsword. Gares, who had been venting his anger by stomping on broken glass shards in front of him, eventually grew tired and leaned against the windowsill.
Turning his gaze out the window, the formation of the Imperial Army camped beyond the castle walls came into view. Instantly, his stomach twisted painfully with rage and fear.
If they had come to get him out of here, ransom negotiations should have taken place immediately. However, the army that arrived this afternoon was clearly in an offensive formation.
In the end, Varkas had betrayed him.
He ground his teeth.
He knew it would come to this. He might have vaguely sensed it from the moment that bastard married Talia—no, even before that.
From the moment that man, who was usually indifferent to everything, started showing a reaction only to that woman…
