At the End of Ruin, There You Are (56 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 52

Caw, caw—the crows searching for food perched on bare branches and cried out gloomily. The black birds gathered together, watching the newly arrived imperial investigators from the Emperor.

Though the Mad Dragon Guosalante had been surprisingly quiet last winter, Lusenford remained on high alert. If the dragon rampaged or foreign tribes invaded during planting season, the entire year’s harvest would be ruined.

In truth, Lusenford itself was bleak and barren, its land too poor for proper farming. To the visitors from Klein—who had already passed full spring and were nearing summer—it seemed even more desolate.

This place was far too harsh for a young noblewoman from the vibrant south.

The wary stares of Lusenford’s rugged people burned into the strangers. Unlike refined Klein, here one felt both exhaustion and brutality, born of constant warfare.

Given the recent incident in which the new Grand Duchess nearly died, the investigators—sent to look into the matter—now understood why she must be struggling so much here.

“Welcome. We are honored by your arrival in Lusenford. His Grace the Grand Duke awaits you within.”

While everyone else was scrambling to obey the Emperor’s command, the Grand Duke chose to wait inside? Did he not grasp the gravity of this incident? Then again, Grand Duke Lusenford had long been known for his arrogance, far exceeding what his birth warranted.

Clank, clank—the investigators ascended the stairs, their swords clashing against metal fittings, entering Lusenford Castle, which gaped like a pitch-black maw.

He might be the Empire’s sole Grand Duke, but Lusenford’s duke was less capable than a mere border lord. What gave him the right to hold his head so high?

He had taken the Emperor’s own niece and nearly gotten her killed within days—that was clear negligence. His guilt weighed heavily.

Several heavy, thick doors opened silently. Muddy sludge spread everywhere, and inside it was darker and colder than the colorless world outside.

The fortress, built from tightly interlocked stones imbued with age-old weight, stood as a massive stronghold.

On every wall hung enormous axes, spears, and shields—so huge one doubted a man could even lift them—and each window bristled with arrow slits and ballistae. Truly, this was a place ready to become a battlefield at any moment.

“Your Grace.”

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