SOTBW - 112

That night, the Romsoa Knights Order did not head out to the field.

Using his temporary vision issues as an excuse (even though his eyesight recovered quickly), Maximón sent a letter to the Noctis administration, stating that he would be unable to join the field for the next three days. He also sent similar messages to other knightly orders. The administration was thrown into chaos, and other knight commanders visited Romsoa to verify the letter’s contents, only to be turned away at the door.

The commanders criticized Maximón, claiming that soldiers with severed fingers or lost arms still went to the field to defend the nation, so losing vision in one eye was no excuse.

In particular, Commander Curis of the Eschus Order openly criticized Maximón. However, as the situation grew tense, he quickly backtracked, saying, “Well, if he’s struggling, I suppose he can rest. After all, Sir Elgort has served longer than any of us.”

The news that Maximón would not be heading to the field spread quickly through the Noctis Fortress. Hearing of Maximón’s injury, panicked residents staged protests in front of the administration building or hastily packed their belongings to flee the fortress.

Chaos engulfed Noctis. The head of the fortress guards, who had imprisoned Maximón in the underground jail, was nearly trampled to death by fleeing residents. The chief administrator, who had trusted Deputy Commander Colnux’s false accusations without proper investigation, was struck with stones and carried unconscious to a relief shelter.

Regardless of the reasons, Maximón had indeed shirked his duty. All knight orders, their commanders, and their soldiers had an obligation to serve for the safety of Noctis Fortress.

Upon hearing the news, Taylor sent Maximón a polite letter of apology. In truth, the Recheo Order did not react strongly to Maximón’s letter. They had already anticipated that Maximón, falsely accused and framed as a murderer, would not remain idle. However, they hadn’t expected him to act in this particular way. Taylor believed Maximón’s refusal to deploy stemmed from confidence.

He must have been certain that the Serith would not attack the fortress that night. Perhaps he was observing the Serith’s strange behavior and acting accordingly. But Maximón’s approach deliberately exacerbated the confusion and anxiety of the people, like a predator asserting dominance over the hierarchy.

This was an opportunity for Maximón Elgort to remind everyone that Noctis Fortress could not be defended without him. It was a crude and aggressive method, but for those who relied entirely on the knights, it drove home Maximón Elgort’s indispensability. At the same time, it underscored the lack of effectiveness of the other knight orders.

Soldiers standing guard on the field through the night must have been gripped with terror, wondering if the Serith might swarm them like a hive of bees.

Still, Taylor shared a similar sentiment to Maximón. The Recheo Order had dispatched reconnaissance teams three times immediately after the Serith’s anomalies began.

Even when over thirty scouts were sent out at once, none reported any sightings of the Serith. They couldn’t even find cocoons in the darkened forest, which suggested that the Serith had entirely retreated from the vicinity of Noctis Fortress and possibly from the entire Kingdom of Bastronia.

The disappearance of the Serith was a relief, but it did not guarantee peace.

Fortunately, Maximón responded positively to Taylor’s apology and sent part of the Romsoa Knights Order to the field. Leading this elite group were Jacob and Belshua.

The news of Romsoa’s deployment quickly spread throughout the fortress. Though Maximón himself did not join the field, the presence of Romsoa Knights alone reassured the residents. The once-crowded streets soon emptied as people returned to their homes.

While the unrest subsided, the chief administrator endured a hellish day. The mere thought of reporting the situation to the king made his head throb. A murder case involving Nathan, Maximón’s refusal to deploy, and the residents’ riots... While Maximón’s refusal to fight was a dereliction of duty, who would dare to criticize him?

To maintain the trust of the people, the chief administrator claimed that he, too, had been deceived by Colnux and his knights. Luckily for him, this excuse was well-received.

Najane stood watching the knights heading out to the field. Some hurriedly grabbed their weapons, enticed by the promise of extra pay for deployment. Najane wanted to join them, but Maximón stopped her.

“Are you really certain the Serith won’t attack?” Najane asked, her gaze fixed worriedly on the backs of the knights leaving through the main gate.

“Of course,” Maximón replied without hesitation.

“But what if one of the queens gets through?”

“I heard Recheo only sent out half their forces. They must have noticed something too.”

“Even so, it’s unsettling….”

“If my instincts are wrong, the alarm bells or drums will sound from the walls.”

Despite this rare opportunity for rest, Najane’s eyes never left the main gate. Maximón forcefully turned her around. She reluctantly followed him, her expression still uneasy.

Just then, a voice called out from the direction of the knight’s quarters. Maximón paused for a moment to listen, his expression darkening. He quickened his pace, tugging Najane along faster.

“Najane!”

As the sound of winter winds brushing against the building subsided, Daniel’s voice rang out. Hearing it, Najane turned toward the direction of the barracks. Daniel, wrapped in a thick scarf, was waving his arms and running toward them.

“Daniel?”

The moment Najane uttered his name, Maximón clenched his jaw so tightly that the muscles along his jawline became pronounced. Daniel, his nose flushed red from the cold, arrived panting for breath.

Najane greeted Daniel warmly. He had been curious as to why Daniel had visited the manor, and despite asking Maximón repeatedly throughout the day, the latter refused to answer whenever Daniel’s name was mentioned, acting in a childishly tight-lipped manner.

“Got a moment? If you do, stop by the lounge in the barracks,” Daniel said.

“No. Busy,” Maximón answered curtly before Najane could respond.

Najane, however, shook off Maximón’s hand with a slightly annoyed expression. “You’re not even heading out to the field; what could possibly be keeping you busy?”

Najane gave Maximón a puzzled look before turning back to Daniel. “I haven’t seen you around at all lately. I was wondering if you were in a relationship or something. What’s up? Is it urgent?”

“No, not urgent. I just have something to talk about. It’s freezing, so let’s not stand here. Let’s go to the lounge. I’ve already prepped some snacks to go with the drinks, and the fireplace is burning nicely.”

At the mention of drinks, Maximón’s eyes widened, clearly displeased. He glared daggers at Najane, silently protesting. Yet Najane, fully aware of Maximón’s intense gaze, cheerfully replied to Daniel.

“Sure, let’s go.”

Unfortunately for Maximón, Najane felt quite confident he was doing a good job with the push-and-pull tactics that Didina had once described.

“Captain, you can head back to the manor first. I’ll catch up after chatting with Daniel.”

For a moment, Maximón was at a loss for words. He couldn’t just drag Najane away by force, but outright forbidding him would likely result in disappointment. Before Maximón could decide, Daniel chimed in, casually scratching the back of his head with interlocked fingers.

“It’s fine. It’s within the barracks and just the lounge. I’ll personally make sure he gets back to the manor safely.”

Daniel’s reassurance didn’t stop Maximón from making his irritation clear, though he remained silent. He wanted nothing more than to take Najane back to the manor himself, but he feared being perceived as overbearing. He didn’t want to be labeled as the insecure type, even though the thought of Najane spending time with Daniel deeply unsettled him.

After a moment’s hesitation, Maximón glanced at Najane. Najane, oblivious to Maximón’s inner turmoil, was already engrossed in conversation with Daniel. The wind was biting cold that day. At last, Maximón exhaled a heavy sigh, rubbed at his temple, and reluctantly nodded his consent.

“Thirty minutes. No more.”

At this, Daniel made a mock thumbs-down gesture and let out a playful groan. “Aw, you’ve got a curfew? I had no idea. You should’ve told me sooner—I’d have visited during the day instead.”

“Right? I didn’t know I had one either,” Najane added with a laugh, seemingly unaware of Maximón’s growing annoyance.

Maximón clenched his jaw as he glared at Daniel, but Daniel, who was scheduled to leave on a campaign early the next morning, wasn’t fazed. Of course, he knew he’d probably have to pay for his teasing when he returned, but for now, he remained unfazed.

“Go on inside; it’s freezing,” Maximón said with resignation, taking off his coat and draping it over Najane’s shoulders. Najane was already dressed warmly, but Maximón felt an inexplicable need to give him his coat for extra comfort. Watching this, Daniel barely managed to suppress a laugh. When Najane turned his back, Maximón’s expression resembled that of a forlorn dog watching its owner leave for an outing.

Stifling his laughter, Daniel stuffed his hands into his pockets and glanced at Najane. “You’re quite something, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Najane, adjusting Maximón’s oversized coat, asked innocently.

Daniel, realizing Najane truly had no idea what was going on, decided to say no more. He figured Maximón could use a bit more heartache.

The barracks were unusually quiet, as most knights had turned in early after a rare day of rest. Najane tiptoed into the lounge, mindful of the silence. The room was swelteringly warm, with the fireplace roaring from an excess of firewood.

As Najane took off the coat, he glanced at the pile of firewood in the hearth and gasped in surprise. It seemed as though Daniel had burned through enough logs to heat the captain’s quarters.

“Come over here, Najane. What do you want to drink? Beer? Wine? You name it,” Daniel offered, pulling out a chair for Najane with a friendly smile.

“Wine. Just a little,” Najane replied.

As Najane took a seat, he glanced at the snacks laid out on the small, round table. Thinly sliced ham, cheese, pieces of fruit hardened with honey… Even though the knights’ food stores had been restocked, he couldn’t fathom how Daniel had managed to procure these delicacies. Taking a sip of wine, Najane fixed Daniel with a suspicious gaze.

“So, what’s this all about? What’s with the atmosphere? Are you heading somewhere far?”

“I’m going on a campaign to Elbision Territory. I’ll probably be gone for over a month.”

Najane, about to take another sip of wine, widened his eyes in surprise.

“What? When?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

The words “tomorrow” and “morning” echoed in Najane’s mind as he struggled to process their meaning. When the realization hit him, he slammed the table in shock.

“Hey!”

Startled by Najane’s outburst, Daniel raised a finger to his lips, feigning panic.

“Shh! If someone hears us enjoying snacks and drinks here, uninvited guests will show up.”

“Why are you only telling me this now? When was the campaign decided?”

“Hm, a while ago. At first, I thought about asking Amelia to tell you, but then I figured—”

“Of course, you should tell me yourself! Were you seriously planning to relay it through someone else?”

“Uh… yeah, you’re right…”

Daniel scratched his head sheepishly under Najane’s sharp rebuke. Just moments ago, the wine had tasted quite good, but now, startled by Daniel’s confession, Najane couldn’t even recall its flavor. Staring at him incredulously, Najane muttered in disbelief.

“You should’ve told me earlier. A month-long campaign, and you’re only mentioning it the day before you leave?”

“I kept thinking I should tell you, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to.”

“And that’s supposed to be an excuse…?”

“You know I worry about you.”

Daniel’s voice was as calm as usual, his lips smiling, but his eyes didn’t share the warmth. He filled Najane’s wine glass to the brim before leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head.

“If your captain were a more dashing guy, I wouldn’t have to worry and could leave without a second thought.”

“…He’s not bad, though…” Najane murmured quietly, his voice barely audible, then took a slightly embarrassed sip of wine, making a small slurping noise. Daniel, sharp-eared as always, caught the sound and burst out laughing as he sat upright.

“Ha! You’re smitten, you’re completely smitten! If you’re at the point where you think the captain’s not bad, you’ve got it bad—real bad, you know that?”

Though annoyed, Najane couldn’t deny it. He scrunched his nose playfully, then swirled the wine in his glass, taking a thoughtful sip before asking, “Why do you worry so much about me anyway? I’m not a child.”

“It’s just… you remind me of someone who raised me.”

Najane stared at Daniel, stunned, wondering if he’d misheard. But instead of explaining further, Daniel simply flashed him a wide grin, raising his heavy mug in a toast.

“Come on, let’s drink! I turned down a farewell party from the guys to share a drink with you. No matter what, we have to finish this bottle within thirty minutes, got it?”

With a cheerful shout, Daniel drained his mug, which was as big as his face, in one go. Najane, impressed despite himself, was about to say something when the lounge door burst open with a bang. He jumped, startled.

The knights, who Najane thought were asleep, rushed in, their eyes lighting up at the sight of the snacks and drinks on the table.

“Daniel, you bastard! You turned us down when we asked you to drink with us!”

“Go get more booze from the housekeeper! Tonight, we’re drinking till we drop!”

The once-calm lounge was instantly filled with chaos. Najane willingly handed over the wine to the eager drinkers and watched as Daniel, now caught by his boisterous comrades, struggled against them. The knights surrounded him, tousling his hair and flipping him over in mock wrestling moves, clearly reluctant to see him leave.

Daniel, who had been reduced to a disheveled mess in no time, let out a bear-like roar and launched himself at the knights. Unlike before, he was laughing heartily. Every time a knight was thrown to the floor by Daniel’s counterattacks, the floorboards creaked ominously.

As the commotion grew louder, knights from other floors began streaming into the lounge. Meanwhile, a group of knights who had gone to see Didina returned triumphantly, each carrying a large keg of alcohol under their arms, having successfully secured the key to the liquor storage.