SOTBW - 50

Nathan, returning from the battlefield, removed his blood-soaked helmet and looked up at the sun. He had made it through another morning safely, even though he had lost quite a few soldiers.

Had everything gone according to plan, Nathan would likely have been leisurely reading books at the Armunzen Duchy, supporting talented artists. After finishing his coming-of-age ceremony, he would have inherited part of the ducal estate and bought a townhouse somewhere in the capital to live quietly.

The Armunzen family had six sons, and Nathan was the fourth, with a very low chance of becoming the heir. He had no ambition to become the duke, nor did he wish to gain a voice in politics. However, when the Seriths reappeared and threatened the borders, the Armunzen family sent all of their sons, except for the eldest, to the Noctis Fortress to fulfill their noble duties.

Perhaps, although they were mindful of the king’s opinion, the Armunzen Duke and his wife might not have been thrilled to see Edwin Elgort’s adopted son becoming a hero on the battlefield. The Elgort family’s founder, Rakhshu Elgort, was still regarded as a legendary figure. Aside from Rakhshu, the other Elgorts never married or had children, so the Elgort family was essentially the only one to carry on the hero’s legacy.

When the Seriths reappeared, the Elgort family’s influence grew tremendously. If Edwin Elgort had been a more cunning and greedy man, by now he might have wielded power equal to that of the king. But Edwin, as everyone knew, was gentle and kind-hearted.

Nathan remembered the time Maximón had slammed his fist on the table in the meeting room, calling the knights “vermin.” Nathan had not expected much from Maximón, as he was Edwin’s adopted son rather than his biological child, but Maximón was an incredibly handsome and reckless troublemaker, with none of Edwin’s gentleness. The Armunzen family had hoped Nathan would keep Maximón in check. At first, Nathan had believed he could do so.

By preventing Maximón from taking sole control at Noctis Fortress and aligning himself with his parents, he thought he could eventually escape this place. After a couple of years, he imagined he could live a quiet, peaceful life with a wife and children in a calm place far from the battlefield…

How foolish and naive he had been. Nathan could not defeat Maximón. The moment he faced the first Sanctum, he froze upon meeting the cold, shining seven eyes.

It was hard to believe that he would have to fight such monsters every day from now on. While he and the knights had barely managed to defeat one Sanctum, the Seriths continued to pour in endlessly over the high walls.

It was only then that Nathan understood why the old veterans at Noctis Fortress called this place a living hell. Once someone set foot on the battlefield, they were doomed to fight until their dying breath, whether they wanted to or not. That was the fate of those born into this world.

But Nathan could not accept that truth. Born into a ducal family, he had been incredibly fortunate. Yet, he was fated to one day meet a horrible end in the battlefield, surrounded by corpses.

If the Armunzen family did not save him from this hell, or if they pushed him further into the mire, Nathan was prepared to escape by any means, even if it meant disappointing his parents.

So, Nathan began to connect the knights capable of leading the Colnux Order with people from the Armunzen family. He didn’t care who they were as long as they showed some leadership qualities.

“Take care of Najane Schnicks from the Romsoa Knights quietly. Then I’ll recommend you to His Holiness the Pope. Most of the holy knights have moved to Noctis Fortress, and the position of the captain of the holy guard is vacant. What do you say, Nathan? Will you cooperate with me?”

Najane would be a pity, but this opportunity would never come again. Nathan preferred not to get involved in political matters, but if it meant escaping Noctis Fortress, he was willing to do whatever it took.

By now, his subordinates must have already taken care of Najane. Nathan had heard that Maximón had imprisoned Najane at the knight captain’s residence. He didn’t know why, but it was said that there was a cold atmosphere between them, with neither party looking for the other for almost four days, making it the perfect time.

Rubbing his tired face with his palm, Nathan headed toward the captain’s office. He had just seen the merchants leaving. He needed to check whether the ordered goods had arrived correctly and if there were any extra charges; doing so on the spot was the only way to avoid losses.

Lately, not only had the number of Sanctums increased, but there had also been a rise in soldiers suffering minor injuries. Nathan, still half-dazed, recalled the holy water and the number of new holy swords he had requested from the Holy Church as he opened the door to the captain’s office.

“……”

For a moment, a look of surprise crossed Nathan’s exhausted face.

The first thing he saw was a completely destroyed desk, broken windows, and soldiers piled up like trash next to the window. Cold air rushed in through the shattered glass, making it hard to breathe. Nathan swallowed thinly and released the doorknob.

Maximón was sitting on the leather sofa, staring at Nathan as if he were the owner of the room.

It had failed.

The subordinate he had trusted had failed to assassinate Najane.

Nathan calmly shut the door. As he took a step forward, broken glass crunched underfoot. Among the broken items were bottles of holy water.

Sitting opposite Maximón, Nathan spoke calmly.

“I don’t know why you did this, but I’ll be charging the Romsoa Knights for the cost of the holy water. You are truly rude and foolish. You know how precious holy water is in times like these…”

“I’m going to ask you three questions now, Nathan Armunzen.”

Maximón interrupted Nathan’s words. Nathan gripped the armrest of the sofa tightly. Maximón’s dark green eyes were eerily calm. His demeanor was remarkably composed and cold, and Nathan bit his dry lips before letting them go.

“What is it that you’re suddenly—”

“Why did you try to assassinate Najane?”

Maximón’s eyes relentlessly fixed on Nathan. Nathan crossed his legs, trying not to show any anxious behavior. The situation was still in Nathan’s favor. If he had evidence that his subordinate had been given the assassination order, there was no way Maximón would be sitting so calmly.

At first, Nathan had struggled with a decision. Should he hire an assassin, or trust a reliable person with the task? He chose the latter. That way, if the plan failed, he could clean up the mess himself.

Nathan wasn’t as skilled as Maximón in terms of combat, but he was dedicated to his subordinates. Not because he truly cared for them, but because he needed to tame them by any means necessary, so that when the time came, he could use them as shields.

Thanks to that, the knights of the Colnux Order, despite enduring harsh training and filling their bellies with foul-smelling stew, could bring home enough money, cloth, and salt to support their families.

The knights quickly became loyal to Nathan, as their lives were precarious. So, even if the assassination plan failed, his subordinates would endure cruel torture without revealing who was behind it. They would rather bite their tongues and commit suicide.

Nathan maintained his composure as he stared at Maximón. Then, like a skilled actor, he tilted his head with an expression of bewilderment.

“I don’t know what happened with the Romsoa Knights, but I’ve never tried to assassinate Dame Schnicks. Why would I? With the Seriths increasing, why would I do something so foolish?”

At Nathan’s words, Maximón smirked faintly, as if he had expected this. He appeared calm on the surface, but in reality, Maximón was exercising superhuman restraint, suppressing his murderous urges. Had it been the usual Maximón, he would have decapitated Nathan the moment he stepped through the door.

The only reason he was controlling his anger was because of Najane. If Maximón killed Nathan out of rage, Najane would likely take offense.

Najane wanted to bring the perpetrators to trial. So, Maximón had to endure. Although he desperately wanted to tie Nathan up, slit his stomach open, and release hungry rats inside him, he suppressed his rising bloodlust and fury, focusing only on Najane.

“Tell me who ordered the assassination.”

Maximón spoke coldly.

Nathan, looking frustrated, rubbed his forehead.

“...I’ll have to repeat myself again. I don’t know why you’re acting this way. Please explain what happened first…”

As Nathan sighed and spoke, Maximón slammed a dagger into the broken table. The spot where the dagger hit cracked loudly. Surprised, Nathan slowly closed his mouth and stared at Maximón. Maximón, with his hands clasped, spoke in a detached voice.

“If Najane had been hurt in the slightest, I would’ve killed you right here. So stop with the pathetic acting before I rip your tongue out. Even now, I want to tear you apart and feed you to the Seriths.”

At Maximón’s fierce words, Nathan furrowed his brow.

“Are you threatening me? Has your fame as a hero made you forget my status? I am Armunzen’s…”

“Armunzen? Ah, that outdated ducal family. Maybe someone would still revere Armunzen as a duke, but do you really think there are still people who look up to it, when we have families like Luamars or Schnicks?”

Maximón sneered loudly, as if it wasn’t even worth listening to. Nathan’s face grew hot.

“Watch your words. No matter who you are, I won’t forgive you for insulting me and my family.”

“Did you just say forgive?”

With a cold expression, Maximón yanked the dagger he had driven into the table with force. Nathan, tense, tightly shut his mouth. No matter how unrestrained Maximón was, he couldn’t just attack the commander of the knights.

This was a wartime situation. A single knight was as valuable as a treasure.

Nathan’s knight, who had tried to harm Najane, would be tried, but before that, he would likely commit suicide. Therefore, Nathan was an unrelated party in this matter.

However, even though Nathan was certain he hadn’t left any trace behind, the pressure from Maximón made him unable to speak a word. The moment he opened his mouth, it felt like his head would be severed.

It felt just like when he first encountered the Holy Relic—his limbs stiffened. It was deeply humiliating to be afraid of Maximón, but as a member of the Armunzen family and the commander of the Colnux Knights, he struggled to maintain his composure, forcing himself to meet Maximón’s gaze.

As their eyes met, Maximón gave a thin smile. It was unmistakably a sneer. Nathan’s ears gradually turned red.

“Forgiveness is something a vile bastard like you shouldn’t even speak of. Do you want to understand the true meaning of forgiveness? If so, you better kneel down and beg. If I spare your life instead of killing you, that would be true forgiveness.”

Nathan’s well-honed social skills and eloquence, developed as part of the Armunzen family, did not work on Maximón. Maximón genuinely wanted to kill Nathan. His sharp, murderous green eyes were proof of that.

Nathan almost forgot about the deeds he had committed, and was about to say something about adhering to the fortress’s rules, but the cold wind sweeping through the captain’s office froze his lips, and he remained silent.

Was Maximón always this obsessed with his knights? How many Romsoa knights had died fighting the Seriths? Facing Maximón’s glaring bloodlust, Nathan instinctively sensed something was terribly wrong.

Maximón was a man who valued nothing. He treated people like objects, using them as needed and discarding them mercilessly when they no longer served a purpose. He understood that Najane had significant value.

If luck was on his side, perhaps one day Najane could fill the vacancy left by Taylor Elderketh. But that alone didn’t explain everything. There had to be more to it. Maximón couldn’t be cherishing Najane beyond imagination…

In his growing anxiety, Nathan recalled the rumors that Najane had been confined to the commander’s residence. It was that very rumor that led him to put his plan into action today. If Najane was locked away and never visited, Nathan believed Maximón wouldn’t care whether Najane lived or died.

But what was this atmosphere?

“This is the last question.”

Maximón, holding the dagger, slowly pressed his finger against his temple and coldly spoke.

“Choose one: eye, nose, ear, hand, or foot.”