Chapter 138 - The last Ravnoma (3)

A place where people come to vent their base desires that are difficult to share with anyone else.

Because it was such a place, unexpected accidents sometimes occurred.

The men who came here had the mistaken idea that they could buy everything from a woman with just a few faded silver coins.

"Aaaah! This crazy bastard!"

Under the dim light of a lamp that seemed about to go out, a man screamed as if he were about to lose his mind, emitting guttural sounds.

The woman sitting in front of the man, holding the child, had a swollen, bright blue bruise on the palm of her neck.

If it had been a little later, the wound would have wrapped around to a place it shouldn't have been.

"How dare this madman stab me?"

There was a small piece of metal hanging caught in the man's wing, which he couldn't reach.

The man, struggling with both arms to remove it, finally decided to unleash his rage against the woman and child in front of him.

"…!"

A vibration that resonates deeply as if I had been struck.

However, the reason it was worth waiting for was probably because of the mother, who covered her son with her whole body while gritting her teeth.

Motherhood, which shines even in the lowest and humblest places, did not hesitate to embrace the young boy.

The sound of rain could be heard from outside.

Vlad still remembered his mother's screams echoing with the sound of the rain.

Vlad was a man who always wanted to protect something.

However, the sword he used to protect someone for the first time was too small and short.

***

Vlad led the way riding Noir.

However, he seemed uncomfortable as he kept scratching his neck.

"…Is that boy still looking at me?"

"Yes."

A calm response to a vague question.

Vlad frowned after hearing Stephan's answer.

'What the hell are you doing?'

Last night, the last Ravnoma was rescued from the slave traders.

The young boy named Karl was simply looking at Vlad's back while still in the woman's arms.

"Why don't you go and pretend you know him?"

"…He's holding a knife right now."

"Not him, it's Karl Ravnoma. The more precise the title, the better."

He was told to handle him with caution as he was the son of the count's family and would be of great use in the future.

Vlad, whom Marcus had scolded for no reason, turned his head carefully and looked at the boy.

A small child who didn't seem to be more than ten years old.

The way the woman hugged him tightly made him look weak, but the dagger he still held tightly gleamed intensely.

"It seems he liked the cloak you gave him."

"I only lent it to him to shield from the rain. I'll take it back anyway."

The woman and the child, struggling to mount the horse, were now covered with black cloaks.

A northern mantle that spared no expense.

The cloak Oksana had given Vlad was as warm as she intended, and its warmth was enough to embrace the two people now wandering in the humblest of places.

"Anyway, treat him with respect. Nothing good comes from bad relationships."

It's the child's responsibility to take care of the child.

In this place full of ugly things, the only one who seemed reassuring was Vlad, so Marcus's words were apt.

"…Alright."

With a mission that wasn't a mission, Vlad turned his head again and looked at the boy.

Messily cut green hair, as if it had been hurriedly trimmed.

The boy's sunken cheeks, perhaps due to a harsh experience, certainly made him look worse for wear, but still, his natural appearance hadn't faded at all.

'When you grow up, you'll make many women cry.'

Although he was a small child who didn't seem to be more than ten years old, the smile of the former rose could be assured.

The appearance of the child would reach a point where women couldn't leave him alone.

But Vlad didn't know that.

The boy in front of him was also having similar thoughts.

"…Excuse me."

"Get away."

Rejection struck me like a dagger even before I finished speaking.

It was a brave first word, but the boy's cold reaction only chilled the atmosphere.

"I didn't say anything, did I?"

"Go away. Stay away from Martha."

The dagger swinging in the short hand was nothing threatening.

However, the eyes looking at the end were sharp.

"Okay."

Vlad nodded as he looked at the woman's apologetic eyes.

Although it wasn't something you'd do to a benefactor, it was something you could fully understand and sympathize with.

Vlad knew very well that no matter how young you are, there are things you want to protect.

"You're doing great."

"…"

Vlad smiled bitterly as he looked at the boy with many thorns like a wounded hedgehog.

Still, you're better than me.

In the end, I managed to protect him.

That day, a fine wound was carved into the neck of the slaver lying in bed.

Although it was small and shallow, it was clearly a fatal wound.

The boy clearly aimed and blocked the evil spirit rushing towards the woman.

It was a much better ending than his childhood.

"Please, continue doing so in the future."

It was a similar scene, but a completely different outcome.

Seeing the boy blocking the wounded woman in the slaver's tent, Vlad found comfort for some unknown reason.

"Take this."

"…Huh?"

Karl was very taken aback, but she was taken by surprise by the bundle of paper flying towards her without any context.

A fragrant smell that could be recognized even when piled up.

In the bundle of paper was engraved a symbol representing the Kannor family.

"…What is this?"

"Eat. It's expensive."

Sausage from the Kannor family.

It was a compliment and a sign of gratitude from Vlad to Karl.

***

Just like the heat from the crackling bonfire, the boy's eyes in the distance kept following Vlad.

Now, Vlad was calmly eating jerky, averting his gaze from the eyes that anyone could clearly see.

"It seems like Karl Ravnoma is very interested in you."

"...I gave him my cloak and even my favorite sausage."

"Well, if it were the Kannor family sausage, I'd say it would be different."

Marcus quietly shook his head in response to Vlad's answer.

They might not have shown much interest just because they were given something, but still, it wasn't a bad relationship.

"I thought he was living in a humble place and would just act like a stranger, but he's still a guy who knows how to be generous."

"...But is it really possible with that little one?"

Vlad, who was cutting jerky with a dagger, glanced at Karl through the flames of the bonfire.

The last remaining Ravnoma.

A child who could become another axis of power in the West.

But the burden the boy carried was too heavy.

"We have to make it possible."

Behind Gaidar, there were families that remained still and neutral.

Some families were simply waiting for an opportunity, but it was true that there were still families following Ravnoma.

"If Gaidar's momentum is broken in this war, the Western Allied Forces will definitely be shaken."

The war doesn't end with a single confrontation.

Peter was looking beyond the battle at Deirmar and invested a lot of time and money into taking the last remaining Ravnoma out of the West.

"If there are fronts going back and forth, no matter how Gaidar is, it'll be a headache."

He was making progress, but if a fire broke out from behind, not even Gaidar would have any choice but to panic.

To avoid such an unfortunate situation, the Ravnoma lineages have been eliminated.

"Now all I have to do is return..."

The mission was a success and yielded unexpected results.

However, Marcus, who was chewing the jerky given by Vlad, simply frowned.

"What's the matter?"

"No, it's nothing."

Marcus, a knight who has long operated in Bayezid's shadows.

He has always been deployed in complex situations and successfully led most missions.

"This is because things are going too well."

A superstition acquired through countless experiences is also a curse.

If the beginning is good, the ending isn't.

"This."

This feeling, difficult to explain with the word premonition, was like the result of countless experiences.

Marcus's concerns, accumulated over a long period of experience, were by no means unfounded and, like his ominous premonition, a raven flew through the dark night sky.

The smell of blood wafting through the flapping wings made it seem like this wasn't the one bringing good news.

"Somewhat, I said things were going too well."

A raven flew in, covered in someone's blood.

The note it brought contained a hastily written warning from someone.

"...Let's stop camping."

"Is this serious?"

Though they haven't even given an order yet, the covert group senses Marcus's mood and quickly starts extinguishing the bonfire.

Seeing their quick appearance, Karl's eyes, which had barely started to stabilize, began to tremble violently.

"I thought things were going very well."

Marcus's eyes, as he looked at Vlad, began to shine significantly.

Bayezid's top Dragon Slayer.

And a northern knight who has consistently established a cordial relationship with Gaidar.

Sigmund's gaze on Vlad was deeper than Marcus had expected.

"It seems Gaidar holds a deeper grudge against you than I anticipated."

"..."

Marcus handed Vlad the bloodstained sword.

The note he received had his name and a name he had never heard before.

***

"Have they said all the streets have been blocked?"

"That's right, Count. I received clear confirmation from the lords through a magical letter."

Count Sigmund was calmly looking at the map in the garrison tent, where he had been forced to sit due to Peter's interruption.

"So the net has been cast."

A northern attack force that was sweeping through the west.

Gaidar was not the only one upset by Vlad's interference.

Vlad's sabotage, which focused on the roads of the western coast, was powerful enough to anger the surrounding lords.

"Anyway, he's a bastard. You've accumulated resentment very quickly."

One by one, objects began to block the way on the map.

Pieces moved from Sigmund's fingertips blocked all roads northward, like pieces on a chessboard.

"Being too proud is also a problem. Vlad of Soara."

The western lords were much more proactive than expected.

Vlad's criminal background, exceeding expectations, was now returning in the form of resentment and slowly strangling him.

"How soon will he arrive?"

"In three days."

"Good. I should be at that level."

And so, the last remaining road.

At hearing those words, a deep smile began to appear on Sigmund's face as he slowly blocked the street.

"Send my cavalry after that brat. Show Bayezid's damn will the strength of Gaidar."

"Understood. Count."

The final piece landed from Sigmund's fingertips.

Atop the piece was a flag symbolizing the fastest cavalry in the West.

"You will pay for your mischief, Bayezid."

In the west, it's not those who are stolen from, but those who steal.

Sigmund had to show and prove that to Peter.

The sound of hooves filled the camp as they departed.

A horde of outlaws galloping unwaveringly through the rugged fields.

On the banners they carried, was drawn the emblem of the cavalry feared by all in the west.

____

Join the discord! 

https://dsc.gg/indra

____