SOTBW - 17

Amelia paced nervously near the front gate of the Romsoa Knights’ headquarters. It was the first time Najane had been gone for so long.

At first, Amelia thought Najane had gone to tend to her weapons, but both her armor and sword were still in her room. She asked the other knights if they had seen Najane, but no one knew anything.

Could it be that Najane ran away because she was afraid of fighting Serith? But Najane wasn’t the type of person to do that.

Maybe she just got tired of the same food at the inn every day and decided to go out. Najane wasn’t picky, but some knights, who might face death at any moment, sometimes indulged in extravagant meals, saying they didn’t want to fill their stomachs with trashy food.

Of course, Amelia didn’t know whether Najane was one of those knights. She knew very little about Najane. All she knew was that she came from a foreign country and was skilled with a sword, more so than most.

But that was common knowledge within the Romsoa Knights. Could the other knights know more about Najane? Perhaps they were all keeping quiet because of what happened when Amelia tried to use Najane.

Amelia genuinely regretted that day. After being harshly rebuked by Maximón, she swore never to interfere with someone else’s business or claim credit again. She deeply regretted breaking her vow to Celyn.

It wasn’t because she feared divine retribution, but because she felt sorry for Najane.

Sitting near the front gate, Amelia glanced at the people returning to the fortress.

There had been a time when she thought she might be special, that she had a fate worthy of someone born beautiful. She thought with a little effort, she could become a noble’s mistress or a nouveau riche’s wife…

But she had never considered learning to fight with a sword like Najane. Sewing or teaching farm children, maybe, but swords and horsemanship were things noblewomen learned as part of their upbringing.

By the way, where did Najane learn to use a sword? As Amelia pondered this question, she finally spotted Najane. She was about to run to her with a bright smile but hesitated when she saw who was with her.

It was none other than Maximón Elgort. Amelia eyed him warily. While Maximón was an essential figure in guarding the Noctis Fortress, after the incident, all Amelia saw him as was a cold, heartless monster.

Had they been together all day? Amelia narrowed her eyes, alternating her gaze between Najane and Maximón. He was someone who had no attachment to his knights, so of course, he wouldn’t care about Najane.

It was only when Najane finally noticed Amelia that she hurried toward her. Amelia, avoiding Maximón’s gaze, quickly grabbed Najane’s hand.

“Where have you been? I was worried because you weren’t in your room all day.”

Najane smiled apologetically at her words.

“I just went out for a quick errand.”

“Was it somewhere difficult to go with me?”

“Mm, a little.”

Najane answered honestly.

Amelia felt a little disappointed but put on a teasing expression.

“Then at least give me a hint. I thought you disappeared without saying anything, and I was worried you might’ve gotten lost.”

“Sorry. Did you wait here for long?”

“Of course! I was worried you’d get lost since you don’t even know where the blacksmith is…”

As Amelia was speaking passionately, her words trailed off when she noticed the gray coat draped over Najane’s shoulders. That coat was definitely not a woman’s. The length and shoulder width clearly indicated it was a man’s.

Could it be that she was tricked by a merchant into buying men’s clothes? Amelia, flustered, pulled open Najane’s coat collar and was startled to find red spots all over her pale neck.

At first, Amelia thought it might be a rash from a wound Najane had gotten yesterday, but she wasn’t so oblivious. Slowly and calmly, she withdrew her hand and glanced at Maximón.

When their eyes met, Maximón smirked. His sneer made Amelia’s expression twist in frustration. She wanted to confront Najane about what Maximón had done, but she forced a smile and kept her composure.

“It’s cold. Let’s go inside. You’re not going out to fight today, are you?”

Amelia took Najane’s hand and led her toward the interior of the fortress. As she was being pulled, Najane glanced back at Maximón. She had to return the coat.

But Maximón nodded as if urging her to hurry. He seemed oddly pleased. Was he excited about fighting Serith? She exchanged a silent glance with him before walking with Amelia back to the inn.

The room was incredibly warm. The fire in the fireplace crackled brightly, and there was a pleasant scent coming from the curtains and blankets. The floor was clean, without the usual gritty sand, and on a small table, there was bread sliced for quick consumption, thinly sliced cheese, and a slightly tangy wine ready to drink.

Everything had been prepared by Amelia. As soon as Najane took off her coat, she crouched in front of the fireplace to warm her hands.

Amelia picked up the coat that Najane had left on the bed. Anyone who had spent time as a maid in Romsoa, especially someone who had frequented the laundry rooms, would immediately recognize whose coat this was.

Only one person in Romsoa could afford to wear such a fine coat. Amelia, with a calm expression, hung the coat on the wall rack and glanced at Najane.

“...Najane, have you heard the rumors? About how the knights and mercenaries will be working together from now on?”

“Really? That’s good news. I heard everyone’s been worried about the lack of soldiers.”

“Other knight orders have already hired several mercenary groups to work with. What if Romsoa can’t find one?”

Amelia stared meaningfully at the coat hanging on the wall. As she warmed her hands, Najane tilted her head in confusion.

“Romsoa is the strongest in Noctis. Is there any mercenary group that would refuse to fight alongside us?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Amelia muttered quietly as she adjusted the collar of the coat. Najane, still rubbing her warm hands, looked up at Amelia.

Before she knew it, Amelia was gently playing with Najane’s long hair. When Lucas had caused a ruckus, a portion of her hair had been cut off, leaving the back uneven.

Amelia pulled a pair of scissors from her pocket and began trimming the hair while continuing the conversation.

“The mercenary groups hate Romsoa. Actually, they probably hate us with a passion.”

“Why?”

The sound of the scissors cutting through hair filled the air as Amelia’s apron began to gather the clippings.

“It’s because of Commander Maximón. I think it was about two years ago. He hired a large number of mercenaries and sent them to the battlefield, but he got rid of them all because they were just getting in the way.”

“…Got rid of them? Does that mean he kicked them out?”

“No.”

The cold scissors lightly grazed Najane’s nape before falling away. The sound of a war drum echoed from the fortress, signaling the knights’ departure. Amelia, having set the scissors down, began picking up the fallen hair while continuing to speak.

“Getting rid of them means he killed them all.”

“…Killed them?”

Najane turned to Amelia with a stunned expression. Amelia threw the hair into the fireplace and wiped her hands.

Najane couldn’t believe Amelia’s words. While it was true that Maximón had a violent and aggressive nature, she didn’t think he was immoral enough to commit murder.

Could something have gone wrong? Bewildered, she looked up at Amelia as she stood up.

“Is it true that he killed the mercenaries? That he killed them without reason?”

“He had a reason. They weren’t helpful in fighting Serith. He executed over thirty mercenaries during the battle, all because they weren’t useful.”

That incident caused quite a stir at the fortress, but it was quickly buried after only a few days of chaos. The seven knight orders, excluding Romsoa, gave Maximón a free pass for his actions.

Of course, many mercenary groups protested, especially since most of them were made up of people from fallen nations.

However, their voices were completely ignored. It was obvious which was more important—an assembly of misfit mercenaries or Maximón, the adopted son of Marquis Elgort and someone indispensable to the fortress. After that, people began to respect Maximón, albeit with a sense of fear.

Had the ones who died been soldiers instead of mercenaries, public opinion would have been different. When so many people fled to Noctis Fortress, the security quickly deteriorated, and with more people willing to take on unpleasant tasks for cheap, jobs began to shrink.

No matter how close the world came to its end, people still had to live. The residents of Noctis Fortress were not pleased with the increasing number of refugees coming to Bastronia due to the country’s fall.

However, the decrease in available work in Noctis Fortress was unavoidable. Due to the anxiety of being overrun by Serith at any moment, many nobles and merchant guilds abandoned their homes and relocated to the royal city.

Originally, Noctis Fortress was the only border city of the Bastronia Kingdom, a place that outsiders had to pass through. It was only natural that trade and lodging flourished there. However, now that the world had become dangerous, those financial resources had returned to the relatively safer royal city.

Naturally, the residents didn’t care about those circumstances. So, while they felt a sense of discomfort about Maximón killing people, they secretly thought it served the mercenaries right for meeting such a miserable end.

Amelia sighed deeply.

“From the perspective of the Bastronians, he’s a hero. But the mercenaries think of Lord Elgort as a butcher. Given what happened, it’s understandable.”

“...But if the commander really did that, wouldn’t he have been punished? It’s strange that he’s still the commander after committing such an act.”

“Think about it, Najane. Who could punish Maximón Elgort? The fortress would be doomed without him.”

Najane still couldn’t believe the story about Maximón killing the mercenaries. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t completely dismiss the idea that such an event might have happened at least once.

When she first settled in Noctis Fortress, the people there often talked about Maximón whenever they got the chance. How powerful a knight he was, the deeds he had accomplished, and how many holy beasts he had slain.

As she listened to those stories, she thought it was a blessing that someone so extraordinary was fighting against Serith. She was thankful that, despite wielding such a dangerous sword capable of cutting through holy beasts, he didn’t use it to threaten innocent people.

Najane gazed at the fire in the fireplace with a troubled expression. The thought that Maximón, the man who had once embraced her so warmly, had harmed innocent people instead of Serith made her heart grow cold.

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty.

The Maximón, whom she had thought to be somewhat human, now seemed distant once again in her heart.