SOTBW - 153

Rachel had the skill to match her abilities. Despite being born with talent and determination, her body couldn’t keep up, and she was forced to shut herself in her room, lamenting her fate as a tragic swordswoman. That was Rachel.

Daniel, who had been alternating between looking at the invitation and the building, let out a short sigh. This would be the first time he met Rachel in person.

Hiding his nerves, he knocked on the door, and a servant came out. The servant, as if he had been waiting for Daniel’s arrival, led him inside. The servant explained that Rachel, with no connections to the Elbision region, had rented an entire building to live in.

As Daniel was escorted into the dining room, he spotted Popin. Popin was standing neatly behind a woman. The intense red hair that looked like it was burning with fire drew Daniel’s gaze toward her.

Daniel instinctively knew that the woman was Rachel, and he greeted her first.

“Nice to meet you, Rachel of the Rochelle family. I am Daniel of the Luamars family.”

Approaching Rachel, Daniel lightly kissed the back of her bandaged hand. Rachel smelled strongly of perfume, likely used to mask the scent of her wounds.

However, despite the rumors he had heard, Rachel appeared to be in relatively good health. Perhaps she was intentionally acting nonchalant, not wanting to appear weak because of her illness and her pride.

Rachel had always been like that. After being diagnosed with a terminal illness and receiving sympathy from those around her, she had once staged a suicide attempt out of frustration.

“Thank you for responding to the sudden invitation. Please, have a seat,” Rachel said elegantly, gesturing to the seat across from her. As Daniel sat down, Popin signaled to the waiting maids.

The maids filled the table with the prepared dishes. The table was modest in size, not quite fitting for a noble banquet, but the carefully made food made it appear like a proper meal.

Instead of wine or other alcoholic beverages, Rachel drank holy water. After wetting her lips with the holy water, she gazed at Daniel.

Rachel’s gaze had a commanding presence, overpowering those she looked at. However, Daniel, having been trained by Maximón for years, wasn’t easily intimidated by such a look.

“I apologize for the simplicity of the meal. I know I shouldn’t be hosting a guest of the Luamars family like this, but after the war, obtaining quality ingredients in the Elbision region has been quite difficult,” Rachel said.

“It’s no trouble at all. This is the first time I’ve had such a lavish meal since the war began. I will enjoy it,” Daniel replied with a smile, then genuinely began to eat.

Rachel didn’t touch her food much. She occasionally spooned some potato soup, but mostly filled her stomach with holy water.

As she watched Daniel eat, Rachel casually asked, “Have you found a way to assault the fortress?”

“Nothing concrete has been decided. The soldiers need to rest, and we have to survey the terrain,” Daniel answered.

“Has the lord not asked you to preserve the fortress as much as possible?” Rachel asked, following up quickly.

Daniel shook his head. “He never mentioned that. He only said to follow my judgment. They’re probably more eager to end this situation as quickly as possible, so preserving the fortress walls isn’t a priority.”

“Hmm, well, that’s a relief,” Rachel muttered a response that Daniel couldn’t quite understand. He looked at her with a puzzled expression.

Rachel smiled faintly, sipping her holy water.

“I, too, want to get down to the Noctis Fortress as soon as possible, but I’ve been stuck here in the Elbision region, wasting almost half a month. As you can see... I’m not in good health, so I hate wasting time like this.”

The Marquis of Rochelle strongly opposed Rachel going to the Noctis Fortress. But Rachel had never intended to seek her father’s approval.

She had used up her family’s wealth to gather the finest holy water, which she now used to barely extend her life. But despite this, Rachel’s health was deteriorating day by day, and the light of life within her was gradually fading.

As the heir of the Rochelle family, Rachel felt guilty for using the holy water to prolong her life. She knew she couldn’t survive without it, but she also couldn’t shake the uncomfortable thought that if she hadn’t fought so hard to survive, there would have been more holy water available to save many soldiers’ lives.

Having lived a life filled with pride, believing that she was more special and extraordinary than anyone else, Rachel thought that for every day she survived, someone else was pushed toward death. Now, Rachel felt that her life, as a descendant of the Rochelle family who once guarded the borders, and as a swordswoman who should have died on the battlefield, was shameful and immoral.

Therefore, if she could no longer guide her life in the direction she wanted, and if she was only causing trouble to those around her, it would be right for her to take her own life to avoid losing any more honor.

Rachel had resolved to die when she was diagnosed with her terminal illness. As the daughter of the Marquis of Rochelle and a swordswoman on the verge of becoming a Sword Master, she thought it would be better to die than to live such a miserable life.

But Rachel didn’t want to die in the mansion. If her decaying body had to be laid somewhere, it had to be the cold, bloodstained Noctis Fortress, not the warm and comfortable mansion.

“I will die in Noctis, where my ancestors unjustly passed away, and I will fight and die there to defend Noctis.”

Even if her rotting limbs were trampled by the Serith and crushed to the point that they could not be placed in a coffin. But if her decaying body didn’t even allow her that, then she would become the commander’s wife at Noctis Fortress and protect the honor of the Rochelle family.

With trembling hands from pain, Rachel calmly drank the holy water. Popin, who was watching Rachel from behind, had an anxious look in his eyes.

Rachel sighed briefly and leaned back in her chair.

“I’ve been eagerly waiting for reinforcements because I heard we would only be able to pass through once the bandits occupying the fortress are dealt with. I can’t express how happy I am that they’ve finally arrived.”

“But…”

Daniel, who had been eating, set down his fork and knife.

He looked at Rachel with an innocent gaze.

“I heard you’re quite unwell. Is it really okay for you to travel this far? I also heard that you’ve been delaying your marriage to the commander due to your health.”

At Daniel’s question, Popin cast a gloomy glance down at the floor.

There was no way it was okay. The Marquis of Rochelle had locked his daughter in her room, forbidding her to go to Noctis. Even priests who knew healing magic had said that the journey to Noctis itself would be fatal to Rachel’s health.

Rather than submitting to her father’s will, Rachel chose to fast. This was the first time she had acted so decisively since being diagnosed with her terminal illness.

The Marquis had firmly said no, but in the end, he couldn’t change his daughter’s mind. In truth, the Marquis knew that there was a limit to how much life could be extended with holy water.

The Marquis of Rochelle had to make a choice as well.

Should he let his beloved daughter die as a terminally ill patient, or should he let her fight and die at Noctis Fortress?

Popin briefly glanced at the black bandages faintly visible inside Rachel’s clothes. The bandages were soaked with tainted blood leaking from her decaying flesh.

The Marquis of Rochelle loved his daughter. He loved her deeply, and more than anyone.

He had hoarded the finest holy water, even though it had led to criticism from the nobility. He didn’t stop buying it, sacrificing his honor, his beliefs, and even his pride, all to protect his only daughter.

People might criticize the Marquis as a madman for sending Rachel to Elbision, but he did it because he loved her. He sent her to Noctis because he loved her more than anyone, knowing she would die.

So that Rachel Rochelle could die as Rachel Rochelle.

So that she would have no regrets about a life bound by a terminal illness.

Rachel gave Daniel a shameless smile in response to his concern about her condition.

“I can’t move alone, but it’s not serious enough to worry you, Lord Luamars. It’s all thanks to the holy water.”

Rachel rested her chin on her hand and changed the subject.

“By the way, how is Maximón doing?”

“Well… he’s the same as always.”

Daniel felt uncomfortable at the mention of Maximón. He had expected Rachel to bring him up, but despite his preparation to respond calmly, his conscience pricked at him.

Daniel supported Maximón and Najane, as they liked each other, but Rachel was Maximón’s fiancée. This naturally made him feel guilty.

“You’re showing respect for someone from the Duke’s family,” Rachel commented.

Rachel tilted her head, amused. Daniel, who had managed to steer the conversation away from Maximón, nodded and responded as if it were obvious.

“The country is on the brink of collapse, so what does status matter? In times like these, the best thing is to follow someone who fights well.”

“Are you friendly with commoners, knights as well?”

“When you fight alongside people, you quickly forget about rank. Status doesn’t matter much at Noctis. If you rely on your title and try to use it to show off, when the time comes on the field, no one will help you.”

“Then, you must be acquainted with Najane Schnicks as well?”

Daniel, who was about to take a bite of his food, paused for just a moment.

He was more surprised that Rachel had singled out Najane from all the knights of Romsoa than the fact that she knew about Najane’s existence.

However, Daniel, coming from a high-ranking family, had the ability to handle awkward conversations with ease. Instead of answering, he stared at Rachel with a look that seemed to ask why she was curious about this. Rachel, too, maintained a calm expression, just as composed as Daniel.

“Everyone seems to be interested in what’s happening at Noctis Fortress. I became curious because she’s the only female knight of Romsoa.”

Daniel realized that Rachel had mentioned Najane after sensing something. After finishing his plate of food, Daniel shrugged nonchalantly.

“I have an ordinary relationship with Najane. Other than the fact that she isn’t from the Kingdom of Bastronia, I don’t know much about her.”

“Is it true that she uses sword energy?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Romsoa must be well-supported then, with Maximón Elgort and even a Sword Master…”

“No. Najane is not a Sword Master.”

Daniel quickly corrected Rachel’s statement. She looked at him with a confused expression, as if asking what he meant.

“She uses sword energy, but she’s not a Sword Master?” Rachel furrowed her brow, as though she had heard something strange.

Popin, too, was surprised. He had assumed, based on Lucas’ letter, that Najane, being known for using sword energy, must be a Sword Master.

Popin refilled Rachel’s glass with holy water while cautiously observing her reaction.

“Didn’t you say Najane Schnicks uses sword energy?” Rachel asked, her tone filled with disbelief.