The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 115 - Aftermath (2)

“First, let me say… I don’t know the details either. Really! I only heard stories related to it for the first time while coming here…”

Viktor looked at Achar with interested eyes as he spoke nervously yet said everything he needed to say, then nodded. As he had somewhat expected when he first picked him up, the opponent was indeed Yugrichi’s son.

And he seemed useful to him. To be precise, he had a feeling that unlike Vashi, who hadn’t uttered a single word about the sorcery or abilities the Grand Chief had used even when beaten to death, this one would easily spill the information he needed.

“It’s fine, so tell me. What exactly happened?”

“…Father, that is, the Grand Chief said that the essence of this sorcery lies in holding a funeral.”

“A funeral?”

At the unexpected words, Viktor tilted his head, and Achar carefully continued.

“Yes. A funeral to send off the warriors of the tribe who would fight valiantly. The White Deer merely adds a small gift to those who hold the ceremony.”

“…”

Viktor asked a question with a sinking heart.

“So you mean… he offered his own tribe’s warriors as living sacrifices?”

“Looking back now, I think that’s what it was. At first, I thought he was telling us to prepare that way to console my brother’s death and boost morale, but…”

Achar muttered gloomily that most warriors had thought the same.

“The Grand Chief… must have planned to sacrifice them with sorcery from the beginning. Perhaps even me… though I’m not certain.”

If that was true, the Grand Chief had made a ruthless choice. A frightening and cruel mindset that could sacrifice even the carefully raised guard unit, and perhaps even his son, all for the sake of winning the war. The man who had stood at the pinnacle of these steppes was certainly no ordinary figure.

‘Even so, he’s dead now.’

Viktor sighed as he reflected anew on the nature of the steppe rulers.

Whether it was a characteristic of nomadic peoples or they had become vicious to survive in the harsh steppes, they were all somewhat mad from Viktor’s perspective.

Bohdan, who burned the entire eastern region and peeled the faces off ordinary people to avoid negotiating with the principality. Yugrichi, who unhesitatingly offered even his son and guard unit as living sacrifices to win the war…

‘I won’t let such things happen anymore.’

And for him, who would now become the master of this land, these were unacceptable deeds.

While Viktor was renewing his resolve once again, Achar was even presenting his own opinion about the Grand Chief’s disappearance.

“The Grand Chief’s sudden disappearance must be related to the failure of the sorcery. It was originally a funeral that the White Deer should have conducted, but when all the warriors ended up dying, it’s natural that he would bear the responsibility.”

“Hmm…? But didn’t you say earlier it was a funeral for warriors who would fight valiantly? Warriors going to battle dying is natural…”

Since Viktor understood it as warriors naturally dying in battle and thus naming it a funeral, he spoke with a puzzled voice. However, Achar shook his head.

“Look at the effects of the sorcery. Most opponents wouldn’t even be able to resist and would be annihilated. When beings that cause fear and confusion just by looking at them charge all at once, who could possibly win? Ah… of course, you won, Sir Knight.”

He concluded in a small voice as if embarrassed.

“So it would be natural to see it as intending to take the lives of warriors who achieved victory. The tribal chief’s target was limited to the guard unit that raised white flags, so ordinary warriors wouldn’t have known anything… though this is just my thinking.”

‘That makes sense.’

Viktor looked at Achar with an admiring face. Unlike his seemingly dull face that was hard to believe belonged to Yugrichi’s son, he had clever aspects.

“Indeed… I heard you well.”

“Do you have more questions?”

“No. It would be better to discuss more detailed stories with Tumen. Rather than that, didn’t you say you had something you were curious about regarding me?”

Achar examined Viktor carefully. At first, he had just thought he was some young subordinate and paid no attention, and when he learned that he was the knight himself, he couldn’t dare look at his face due to nervousness.

However, through their conversation, Achar realized something. This knight was excessively kind for someone who had killed the Grand Chief and won the tribal conflict!

‘Is he really the person himself?’

At least in Achar’s thinking, someone who would rise to rule the steppes should be fierce and cruel, without a trace of compassion, and possess a cunning heart that could use everyone around them.

Without such a ruthless hero, it would be impossible to properly rule these barren steppes. But what about this young knight before his eyes?

‘I heard from Tumen that he single-handedly killed father and all the guards… but he doesn’t seem like such a person.’

His calm face was manly, and an unknowable sense of authority flowed from his shadowed eyes, but his slightly raised mouth corners and simple mannerisms gave comfort to others.

Not only that, but his words fundamentally contained generosity, and he never raised his voice or used rough expressions. An atmosphere completely different from both warriors and the principality knights or mercenaries he occasionally dealt with.

“…Are you really yourself? No, before that, do you truly intend to become ruler of the steppes?”

‘…Gasp, without realizing it!’

Only when Tumen beside him hardened his face and grabbed his shoulder firmly did Achar realize his mistake and turn dark. The habit of speaking his inner thoughts honestly had popped out again. And at this solemn moment when he was being interrogated as a prisoner!

‘I must be crazy. Getting presumptuous just because he treated me kindly for a moment… ugh!’

When Viktor raised his hand, Achar closed his eyes. However, the expected pain never came.

“I am indeed myself. And to restore order to this land, I won the tribal conflict and will soon become ruler of the steppes.”

Viktor continued calmly while holding Achar’s shoulder.

“Tumen always tells me stories about the legendary king. Well, naturally I’m not of such status, nor do I intend to become such, but I can say this one thing truthfully.”

“…”

“This land needs a new ruler. One where tribes no longer have to crawl around living on barren land, no longer have to suffer from hunger and poverty, no longer have to fear attacks from monsters and beasts.”

Under Viktor’s intense aura, Achar stopped breathing. The energy he had occasionally felt from his father was leaking out and choking Achar’s throat.

“I stand here to create such a place.”

It was the aura of a conqueror. At that moment, Achar could realize that this man’s kindness and generosity were merely surface appearances. Viktor was a monster. He acted innocently as if wearing sheep’s clothing on the outside, but inside was a terrifying and unfathomable monster that was hard to think of opposing.

“…Then I can only follow.”

When Achar bowed his head, overwhelmed with a chilled expression, Viktor tilted his head slightly, then patted his shoulder and stepped back. It was somewhat different from the reaction he had expected, but since the result was the same, it wouldn’t matter.

‘This should be enough. It wasn’t exactly a moved expression… but still, if I can win over this fellow, it’ll be easier to absorb the Grand Chief’s remnants.’

‘A frightening person! A frightening person! He was hiding tremendous ambition beneath that kind face! Achar, you foolish one! To have such poor judgment of people, truly far from ready… That person is indeed worthy of becoming ruler of this land. A cunning and crafty hero! A hero!’

If the two could have read each other’s thoughts, it would have been absurd, but since that wouldn’t happen, it was fortunate for both.

---

When Viktor was barely finishing cleanup of the battlefield and preparing for return, the Count was slowly tilting his wine cup while looking down at the people below the castle from high above. The Count’s heart watching them was by no means comfortable. He put strength into the hand holding the wine cup.

“What should I do now…”

It was victory, a great victory at that, but it was hard to say the damage was light. The left and right wings had virtually no damage, but the center that had been helplessly victimized by the enemy’s sorcery was different.

Honestly speaking, if they had been just a little later, it wouldn’t have been strange for the central army itself to be annihilated. The Count, who had been there, felt his hair stand on end just thinking about it again.

The feeling of fear hidden deep in his chest climbing up through his body against his will just from looking was a nightmare he never wanted to experience again.

And the problem was that most of the central army consisted of mercenaries hired by the Count himself. To be precise, the central army was a coalition of the Count and nobles combined, essentially no different from the main body of the expeditionary force, while the left wing vanguard and right wing reserves were like a handful compared to them.

And the number of those controlled by the Count and his followers exceeded half of the entire coalition. In other words, the central army suffering devastating damage was the same as his subordinates suffering the greatest damage, and in other words, it meant the factor that had allowed him to control the expeditionary force, albeit barely, had disappeared.

The Count was already reading the ominous atmosphere floating within the castle. And he also knew who they were following.

‘Sir Viktor…’

The Count threw down his wine cup.

Clang! The wine cup made of fine silver dented and broke, but he paid no attention.

‘This is the first time my head and heart have been so at odds… What should I do… Sir Mikhail… no, I can no longer trust him.’

Mikhail had been the subordinate he had consulted first and relied on whenever he had concerns, the one he trusted most, but now the Count could no longer completely trust him.

The expression on Mikhail’s face as he glared at him and spoke his mind in the great hall still hadn’t been forgotten. The Count suddenly felt deep loneliness and solitude as he slumped into his seat.

Externally, he was evaluated as someone who had succeeded in a great expedition, an ambitious man trying to swallow this vast land, and someone likely to possess more powerful strength than any of the previous Grand Princes, but the reality was different.

His retainers were expressing nothing but complaints daily while looking at the dusty empty warehouses, and only heavy and unpleasant news arrived daily from his domain that had been left empty for so long.

The mercenaries he had scraped together through all sorts of hardships had lost more than half in a single battle, and now only a pack of hyenas eyeing his position swarmed beneath him.

His trustworthy subordinates had scattered in all directions, or…

‘Were rebelling against me… how foolish.’

And at this very moment, there was only one person whose inner thoughts he was most curious about and suspicious of.

‘Sir Viktor. What you’re thinking… I truly don’t know. What choice will you make?’

The dependable and desirable knight who had led all battles that could have been lost to victory, who had always appeared to extend a helping hand during his crises. The humble and trustworthy knight who had always offered unwavering loyalty whenever he was mentally exhausted and struggling…

However, at the same time, the knight with whom he had not made a formal contract, connected by an unstable relationship based on verbal promises. And the presumptuous knight who had received the Church’s support alone without a single word to his lord. The untrustworthy knight who falsely claimed miracles, mistreated his own brother, and tried to steal away his trustworthy retainers!

A cold light circled in the Count’s eyes.

His hot blood had long since cooled. Regardless of his nature, he was a noble, and nobles could always become cold.

Especially when it concerned their own interests.

‘There’s nothing bad about being prepared.’

The Count raised his head to look at the sky.

Soon Viktor would come to the castle. And that time would surely be the watershed that would truly allow this war to be concluded.

‘I’ll be waiting, Sir.’

---

“Ah, come to think of it, how are they doing?”

When Viktor casually threw out a question, Lukovich, who had been tending to his sword, raised his head.

“Who might you be referring to?”

“…Lukovich, you’ve completely become a knight.”

Viktor looked at his attendant with a somewhat incredulous expression. The sight of him skillfully tending to his sword without looking ahead even while on horseback was no different from a knight cherishing his beloved weapon.

“Ahem, please don’t tease me… but who are you really referring to?”

When Lukovich blushed while unable to hide his pleased expression, Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle. At some point, he had never once thought this attendant who yearned to be a knight was presumptuous.

He had just been somewhat worried since he was a former merchant, had a gentle nature, and wasn’t young. However, Lukovich was doing better than imagined.

Not only did he never forget his duty as an attendant and always neatly attend to Viktor, but now he could perfectly handle most business or miscellaneous tasks without going through Viktor.

Not only that, but his progress toward the path he had dreamed of was visibly apparent. Knights he was friendly with often praised him for having a good squire.

“Bohdan’s daughter and… my brother. What are they up to? I’ve been so busy I’ve barely paid attention.”

Bohdan’s daughter, Marzina, needless to say, and his brother Igor were both treated as complete prisoners within the unit. However, since he had somewhat intended it that way, it wasn’t that his heart ached or anything. He was just purely curious.

“Ah, as for Marzina, I heard she’s become somewhat docile now. That, wouldn’t it be largely because she spent a long time only with steppe warriors?”

Marzina couldn’t be brought into the castle. Not only was there no space to accommodate her, but if she had been brought into the castle where negative feelings toward barbarians had reached their peak, no matter how much Viktor had rights over the prisoner, who knew what might have happened.

“Is that so, that’s fortunate.”

When Kulak’s pleased face came to mind, Viktor nodded. For him, it was something he couldn’t help but be concerned about, so it was good news. For Bohdan’s subordinates, Marzina’s existence was still significant, and moreover, considering the acts his family members had committed against her, he felt sorry for her.

“I’ll see her when I have time. Then what is my brother doing now?”

“…I’m sorry. As you ordered, we released him into the castle and attached surveillance, but after the one watching disappeared at some point… I heard rumors that he frequently visits the nobles in the castle…”

When Lukovich bowed his head with an apologetic face, Viktor waved his hand.

“It’s fine. I was so busy with the Grand Chief and all that I didn’t have time to worry about my brother. Anyway, once we go back in, we’ll quickly know what that person has been up to.”

‘Still, brother is quite something.’

Viktor purely admired his brother who had managed to shake off surveillance and scheme something even in such circumstances.

Though he had grown up receiving mediocre education in the countryside like himself, unlike his other brothers, Igor had always had a natural talent in this area from before.

Viktor lazily stretched on top of Podaga while looking at the gradually growing castle gate. From the battlefield site to Roshtov Castle was just a stone’s throw away.

‘Well then, shall I see what everyone has been preparing?’

Viktor glanced sideways at a group gradually approaching from the opposite side.

‘First comes this side, I suppose.’

Looking at the banner of comrades he would meet after a long time, he smiled slightly.