70

─clop clop

The horse labored up the hill.

“We’re almost there. If we just get over this hill…”

Rupert, who led the way, stopped at the top of the hill.

Hamel reached the top right after him.

“Lord Hamel. Welcome.”

Rupert spread his hands with a triumphant expression.

A wide, open snowy plain.

Here and there a blue light shimmered.

Before long, green shoots had pushed up through the snow.

The wind carried the mingled scent of spring.

And at the end of their sightline.

A gigantic black castle stood tall on the vast land.

On that flat, hill-free plain the massive fortress looked almost bewildering in how it had been built.

“Wow.”

As everyone murmured in admiration, Rupert cleared his throat and said proudly.

“Welcome. To our Glenval family’s domain, Sturnhelm.”

---

After several days’ journey, they arrived at Sturnhelm.

It was the greatest city and fortress of the North.

The massive castle built from black stone looked as solid as an iron citadel.

The castle’s reputation, having never once allowed an outside invasion in a thousand years, was no empty boast.

“Impressive.”

Rupert nodded at Hamel’s murmured words.

“You can’t compare it to those ostentatious central castles.”

“Hmm, you wouldn’t say that if you’d seen the Imperial capital.”

Rupert answered Daniel’s retort with a sour tone.

“That wasn’t meant for you, Commander.”

“I wasn’t specifically speaking to you either.”

Daniel shrugged and Rupert abruptly turned his head.

Seeing that, Hamel sighed.

Rupert had changed a lot after going through the dungeon.

He’d gained confidence in his actions and had become gentler with people than before.

Still, he often treated the others with a certain condescension as if they were beneath him.

Though he was exceedingly attentive toward Hamel.

That aristocratic mindset would likely be hard to change.

Just as Hamel couldn’t fully understand Rupert, Rupert couldn’t fully understand Hamel.

“Cut it out. For now, line up.”

Hamel intervened, approached the gate, and stood at the very back of the line.

Rupert shook his head when he saw that.

“Hamel—there’s no need for you to stand in line.”

“?”

Instead of answering, Rupert spurred his horse and rode to the gate.

The soldiers guarding the gate all turned in unison, struck their chests, and saluted.

Rupert nodded and spoke firmly.

“Open.”

“Yes. Clear the way!”

In an instant, the soldiers halted and opened a path.

People waiting to enter the castle stared wide-eyed at Hamel’s party.

No noble would receive such privilege.

Only two kinds of people could.

Either the Imperial family, rulers of this empire.

Or the owners of this castle, the Glenval family.

“Shall we go, Lord Hamel? We’ll escort you to the presence of the lord.”

“…Thank you.”

Hamel rode on, somewhat embarrassed.

He could feel the truth of the rumors that, in the North, Glenval’s influence rivaled that of the Emperor.

Once inside the estate, Hamel slowly surveyed his surroundings.

By watching the domain’s people, one could read the mood of the city.

On the surface, the atmosphere was lively.

Many merchants passed through and smiles lingered on people’s faces.

‘Seems like there’s no major trouble.’

Hamel turned his head toward something that slightly worried him.

─rattle rattle

Carts loaded with weaponry clattered by.

Among the citizens, men in plate armor were occasionally visible.

There were unexpectedly large numbers of supplies and horses.

Hamel inspected them and asked Rupert.

“Is some kind of tournament being held in Sturnhelm?”

“No, nothing like that. But… there are more armored men than I remember.”

Something was definitely going on.

He had seen a similar atmosphere before.

The estate of Sorn, located in northern Haidern.

It felt like the place preparing for war.

Hamel felt déjà vu as he rode on.

It seemed he now knew the first thing he should ask the lord.

---

“The lord of Haidern. Hamel Saint Gilmore, priest of the Azure Flame, enters!”

With the attendants’ announcement, Hamel stepped into the Great Hall.

Following him came Ono, Daniel, Rena, and Rupert into the hall.

Dozens of knights and retainers waited inside the hall.

And at the apex of them stood a man.

“Come, come.”

The man, wearing a cloak that looked like black bear hide, spoke.

Hamel recognized the man.

He matched the fragment of memory Rupert had of meeting someone in the dungeon not long ago.

He appeared slightly older than in that memory.

But the body visible beneath his clothes still looked rock-solid.

Hamel flinched unconsciously upon facing him.

Though unarmed, the man’s gaze radiated a sharp, fierce aura.

‘This is…’

The empire’s one and only Sword master.

Reikard Glenval.

“It’s an honor to meet you, protector of the North.”

Hamel bowed and offered his greeting.

The man rose from his seat and trudged over to Hamel.

Then he said.

“The honor is mine, savior of Lonelybirch.”

He bowed in return to Hamel.

Hamel was slightly surprised by the unexpected courtesy.

He wasn’t the only one—his son Rupert also widened his eyes.

Reikard paid no mind to their reactions; he smiled and put a hand on Hamel’s shoulder.

“I heard through the heralds. If it hadn’t been for you, not just Lonelybirch but the whole North would have fallen into chaos.”

“I was lucky. What I did was nothing special.”

“No. It was our fortune that you passed through there. Hey!”

Reikard raised his voice and called out.

At that booming voice, an attendant appeared from somewhere and handed over an emblem.

“It’s nothing much, but from my castle—I’ve ordered the famed smithy of Sturnhelm to open its armory. Anyone in your party may, when they have time, stop by and take as much armor and weapons as they need. Custom orders are fine too.”

“This is… too much.”

Hamel, who had already been rewarded in Lonelybirch, shook his head.

The master smiths of Sturnhelm were renowned across other estates.

A well-forged sword could cost as much as a small estate’s annual budget, yet they’d heard there were long waiting lists.

Rumor had it even lords would wait years after commissioning a blade.

“Nonsense. It’s paltry by comparison.”

Reikard snorted and continued.

“Haidern is now a friend of the North. If you need it, we’ll help as far as we can. We don’t make promises in words alone, Glenval speaks with the sword.”

“It’s an honor.”

Hamel simply bowed his head in thanks.

Sufficient, it seemed; Reikard nodded.

Their way was to leave neither debts nor grudges.

Satisfied, Reikard turned his gaze to Rupert.

“As for Rupert, my son, what of you…?”

Trailing off, he stared quietly at Rupert.

His eyes, unlike when looking at Hamel, were cold and hard.

─flinch

Rupert trembled under that gaze like a mouse before a cat.

Seeing that, Reikard clicked his tongue in disdain.

“You disappoint me once again.”

“I’m… sorry.”

Rupert instinctively shrank and answered in a shrinking voice.

Reikard sighed as if even that displeased him.

“I sent you to the Academy and you came back all girlish. I never intended to send you south.”

“…”

Rupert lowered his head and took his father’s reproach.

Hamel quietly observed the situation.

He had heard the old story about Rupert.

But it was a bit different from what he’d been told.

Reikard’s gaze at Rupert wasn’t simply pity or disappointment.

That was…

‘Perhaps it should be called expectation.’

Maybe that’s what it means to be a father.

But why he expressed it primarily through harsh reproach was hard to understand.

To Hamel, Rupert was proud but a just knight and more than capable.

What Rupert needed was humility and insight, not mere martial power.

If one truly cared for him, shouldn’t one offer praise as well as reproach?

‘Still, the situation isn’t bad.’

Hamel actually saw the situation as positive.

Because Reikard’s look at Rupert was softer than expected.

If given a little more time, Rupert’s slow change would bring them closer.

Hamel spoke up to lift the heavy mood.

“There’s one thing I’d like to ask.”

“Ah, I’ve been rude at such a fine moment. Go ahead and ask.”

Reikard finally relaxed and spoke apologetically.

Recalling the earlier atmosphere in the domain, Hamel asked.

“The estate seemed a bit restless. I’ve seen similar city atmospheres before…”

“Is that so? What were those cities like?”

“They were cities preparing for battle.”

“Hmm.”

Reikard raised a corner of his mouth, intrigued as he looked at Hamel.

He nodded, seeming pleased by Hamel’s insight.

“If you see it that way, then preparations are underway.”

“Preparations meaning…?”

Reikard gestured toward Hamel in response.

Then he led him to a desk.

A map lay spread across the desk.

On the map of the empire’s northern domains, castles and blue markers and red markers faced each other as if in opposition.

“What do you make of this?”

“The blue markers are the northern cities and troop numbers. The red ones farther north… are they the barbarian clans?”

“Exactly. A map marking the barbarian tribes.”

Reikard tapped the map and continued.

“As you can see, their movements are a little odd. There are times in winter when they come down in numbers because food is scarce, but…”

“It’s spring now, though.”

“Exactly.”

Reikard answered with a troubled expression.

Even in the North, it wasn’t barren tundra all year round.

Spring thawed the weather here too, and animals returned.

It was the time when northern barbarians normally ceased incursions.

“Even if they gathered, they’d mostly be rabble, and they haven’t attacked yet. But this is more my old-woman’s worry—I’m preparing.”

It’s always too late once something happens.

Hamel agreed with Reikard’s caution and thought for a moment.

‘If something different from the usual is happening, then perhaps…’

Hamel asked Reikard cautiously.

“Have there been any rumors of unfamiliar strangers?”

“Strangers?”

Reikard hesitated briefly, then shook his head.

“No, I haven’t heard anything like that. Why do you ask?”

“Actually…”

Hamel began telling Reikard about David.

He explained how dangerous he was and that he had come to the North to track him down.

After hearing it all, Reikard thought for a moment, then seemed to recall something and spoke.

“Now that you mention it, I did hear one thing: a suspicious person with blue hair and blue eyes has been seen roaming the woods.”

“…!”

Hamel’s eyes widened.

The description matched David exactly.

Hamel urgently asked.

“Where is that place?”

“Snowglum. A small village called Numbit Valley. Would you like to go?”

“Of course. I’ll take responsibility and handle it.”

“Good. I’ll lend you my household knights. Take Rupert with you.”

“Thank you.”

Hamel deeply thanked Reikard for his kindness.

They had David’s trail faster than expected.

The Sword master had been friendlier than anticipated, and things seemed likely to go smoothly.

---

“Listen well, Rupert.”

The empty Great Hall.

Reikard’s cold voice echoed through it.

With everyone else gone, only Reikard and his son Rupert remained in the hall.

‘Why does it always have to be like this?’

Rupert steadied his trembling hands.

He had vowed countless times before facing his father.

He promised he wouldn’t tremble before him.

He would face the cold gaze and atone for his sins.

Those were the principles he had learned from Hamel, how to learn from regret.

But…

In his father’s presence, all that resolve dissolved into nothing.

It shattered like a mirage that had never existed.

“Why do you think I told you to follow Lord Hamel?”

“To help Lord Hamel…”

“Wrong.”

Reikard cut Rupert off firmly.

Rupert flinched and lowered his head.

“This is a northern problem that happened in the North. The North doesn’t entrust its affairs to others.”

“You mean…”

“You will handle it yourself. It’s a northern affair, so a northerner must finish it.”

Under that icy voice, Rupert could not easily answer.

The hope he’d nurtured swelled into even greater despair.

He could hardly breathe, as if reliving that day’s memory.

Reikard’s wolf-cold gaze pierced Rupert.

“Do not disappoint me any longer, my son.”

“…Yes.”

The eyes with which Rupert replied looked somehow hollow and empty.