The next morning, the day of Karsten’s departure, arrived. Thanks to their hasty preparations the previous day, they were ready to set out at first light.

As Karsten observed his knights moving around, he suddenly became aware of Meliover and Breti standing behind him.

“Mother.”

He quickly approached and clasped Meliover’s hands. She cupped the back of her son’s hand with a troubled expression.

“My dear child, take care of yourself out there, okay?”

“Of course. That’s only natural. Please don’t worry too much.”

“But still…”

Unable to calm her, Meliover continued to stroke the back of his hand. The news that her son was heading north to quell unrest filled her with dread. After all, it was in that very place that her husband, Cariel, had lost his life.

“Above all, never forget that your life is what matters most, my son.”

She cradled Karsten’s cheek as she spoke. In response to her concerned tone, he simply nodded.

Then his gaze shifted to Breti, who was standing beside Meliover with her head bowed. A single tear slid from her eye and fell.

“Oh, dear.”

Karsten reached out and stroked Breti’s head. At his touch, she began to cry harder, her tears spilling freely as sorrow welled up inside her.

“Don’t cry.”

He held her silently, patting her back in comfort. She only wept more, soaking his shoulder with her tears.

After soothing her for a long while, he bent close to her ear and whispered softly,

“I’ll be back soon, Breti.”

Her name—something he could not speak aloud before others—brushed against her ear in secret.

Pulling her gently from his arms, Karsten once again took Meliover’s hands.

“Mother, please stay well until I return.”

“My child, you mustn’t get hurt. Promise me.”

“Yes.”

“If you’re hurt, I… I couldn’t bear it…”

Meliover could not finish her words. Reading the weight of her heart, Karsten gave her a faint smile.

“I will not be hurt.”

Karsten mounted his white steed at once and shouted in a commanding voice.

“Move out!”

At his order, the knights began to march in unison.

Breti clutched the pendant around her neck tightly and watched him until he disappeared from view. Tears brimmed in her eyes, refusing to dry.

After a long time, she returned to her room, sat on her bed, and looked at the pendant against her chest. Lying down weakly, she looked at it.

“When I leave for the campaign tomorrow, open it then.”

He had wished for her to open it only after his departure.

Breti slowly rose from the bed and unlatched the pendant with a faint click. Inside lay a ring the color of deep green—just like her eyes—and a folded note.

She took the ring in her hand and carefully unfolded the paper.

As her eyes traced the words written there, fresh tears welled once more.

[When I return, I’ll put it on your finger myself.]

Breti stared at that single line endlessly until she finally buried her face in her hands and cried uncontrollably.

At that moment, Bagi came in to tell her that breakfast was ready.

“My lady, breakfast—”

Startled, Bagi rushed over at the sight of Breti collapsing in tears.

“My lady!”

“Bagi…”

Breti clutched her maid’s arm, her voice broken and tear-stained.

“What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?”

“What troubles your heart so deeply, my lady?”

Breti was unable to answer Bagi’s question. Not understanding the full extent of her mistress’s distress, the maid could only feel helpless and frustrated.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Five days had passed since they left the capital. They had now reached the borderlands of the Hueta Empire.

The mountainous frontier between the two empires was a designated demilitarised zone. A few Pensian citizens had settled there, as had Huetan subjects on the other side. The land beyond that was preserved to protect the beauty of its natural landscape. Both nations had therefore pledged to prevent conflict there.

“Lay down your arms.”

When they arrived at the border, Karsten issued the knights with their orders. Hearing this, the men relaxed and continued to march.

As they became less alert, they passed the scattered cottages nestled along the mountainside. While crossing a path along a sheer cliff, a sharp, cold wind brushed against the back of Karsten’s neck.

This made him glance around, feeling uneasy.

“Your Highness! An ambush!”

Just as the boulders tumbled rapidly down the cliffside above, Benon let out a shout.

Almost immediately, the northern knights appeared, raising a great roar as they brandished their blue banners.

Caught off guard, Karsten’s men scrambled to draw their weap*ns, but many had already been seriously wounded by then.

‘D*mn it.’

Watching his knights being cut down so mercilessly, Karsten cursed under his breath.

Then he caught sight of a man standing on top of the cliff and observing the chaos. The man had an eyepatch over his left eye and Karsten recognised him.

Rather than dwell on the memory, Karsten chose to act.

“Benon, I leave this place to you.”

He gave this order to the knight guarding him closely, then leapt from his horse without hesitation.

“Your Highness!”

Benon’s voice called after him, but Karsten did not stop.

Fixing his gaze on the man standing on top of the cliff, Karsten pulled his hood low and advanced cautiously, taking care not to attract the enemy’s attention. A few soldiers spotted him as he climbed, but he swiftly struck their vital points, dispatching them before they could raise the alarm.

Finally reaching the top, he held his breath and closed in on the man. With a quick movement, he knocked the stranger’s sword from his hand and pressed his own blade firmly against his throat.

“This is a demilitarized zone—you are well aware of the treaty your empire signed.”

The man, suddenly disarmed, raised both hands and slowly turned around.

“Of course I am.”

As their eyes met, Karsten’s sword trembled faintly. The man noticed his agitation and lifted the corner of his mouth in a crooked smile.

“But would I ever let the chance to cut down my enemy slip away?”

‘Enemy.’

The news took Karsten back three years to the suppression of the conflict on the northern border, in which he had fought alongside his father, Cariel.

At the time, the Hueta Empire had been illegally mining ore in the borderlands, sparking violent clashes between the two nations. In an attempt to quell the strife, Duke White had intervened himself. Yet amidst the campaign, chaos erupted unexpectedly.

Cariel was seriously wounded in the ensuing chaos and ultimately lost his life. The man standing before Karsten had delivered the fatal blow.

Seeing his father fall, Karsten grabbed a bow and arrow and shot the enemy in the left eye. He thought the man was dead. But here he stood, still alive.

Karsten clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw ached.

“If we speak of enemies, I hardly fall short on that count.”

“Ah, that reminds me—is the old wolf dead?”

The man gave a solemn nod, his feigned regret barely concealed.

“So that dead wolf was your father, then?”

Provoked, Karsten took a step closer.

“Lost an eye, and now you can’t even see the blade at your throat?”

The man glanced at the tip of the sword pressing against his neck and let out a dry chuckle.

“How did you know this place?”

Even in the Borderlands, it would not have been easy to know the terrain so well. Not only had they infiltrated the place, they had even laid an ambush. Karsten’s suspicion deepened.

“Who knows? Perhaps thanks to the rule that ‘the enemy of my enemy is my ally’?”

The man taunted, and Karsten tightened his grip on his sword. A thin line of blood trickled down the man’s throat.

“Speak clearly.”

“To me, your greatest enemy is a friend.”

In that instant, the man drew a dagger from his br*ast and drove it deep into Karsten’s side.

“And thanks to that, I’ve been given this chance to take my revenge, haven’t I?”