The Ilarid that Lebel was chasing was dressed in dark clothing as usual.

But it was different from other times. Much darker, barely enduring the sorrow pressing down from above.

He followed while suppressing his presence as much as possible. Ilarid’s senses were keener than most people’s, so if he let his guard down even a little, he would be discovered immediately.

But the voice calling out “Baby” as she placed a toy in front of a small grave trembled softly. Hearing that pitiful voice tinged with sobs, he couldn’t control his wavering heart.

Lebel’s surging emotions immediately broke some unknown spell. Ilarid turned around at once.

When he realized he had been discovered, small teardrops were hanging below Ilarid’s deep green eyes. And then…

“It’s my child.”

A voice that had settled into coldness, unbelievably different from someone who had been crying just moments ago. A silence fell as if a large shield had suddenly blocked the space between them.

Ilarid turned back slightly and wiped away the remaining tears with her hand. Why did she always show such weak and mistaken sides of herself in front of Lebel?

“Your Majesty the Empress…”

“Captain Lebel, please don’t ask anything right now.”

She slowly walked towards him. A solid woman showing not even a hint of vulnerability stood firmly before Lebel.

His whole body stiffened involuntarily. It was the coldest expression he had ever seen on Ilarid’s face.

“I hope you will… pretend you didn’t see this scene today.”

Their encounter was brief and the parting instantaneous. Before Lebel could say anything, she quickly walked away from his side.

Soon only a desolate chill remained around him. After standing in place for a while, Lebel slowly moved his feet towards the grave before him.

He had to bend his legs and bow his waist to meet the tombstone at eye level. It was that small and pitiful. Lebel’s eyes fell on the birthdate engraved on the stone.

The date of death following the birthdate. The period in between was absurdly short.

What had he been doing then? Had he been busy fleeing from the empire? News of the empire from that time was a blank slate for Lebel.

Why hadn’t he anticipated that another great misfortune would befall Ilarid? Not knowing any of this. Lebel pressed his forehead against the tombstone. The cool, rough texture touched his bare forehead.

A heaviness settled in one corner of his chest. Though he dared not imagine Ilarid’s sorrow, he knew the stinging pain that comes when losing a precious existence.

Moreover, it was her child.

‘It’s my child.’

To maintain a calm expression while saying those words must have been accompanied by tremendous pain.

Lebel raised his fist and struck himself in the solar plexus.

A dull thud echoed, but he didn’t stop. The harsh sound continued several times, until the tightness in his chest loosened.

Better to have a bruise than the wound festering inside. Soon a groan-like lament burst from his lips.

It was his delusion to think it wasn’t too late.

‘I’m sorry I was late.’

Lebel couldn’t bring himself to raise his head bowed to the tombstone. It was a misjudgment brought on by unnoticed arrogance.

A precious child of a precious person, whose face he never even saw. Yet on the tombstone was a pitiful existence not even given a name.

‘You must have resembled Lady Ilarid.’

His fingers traced the numbers engraving the birthdate on the stone. Though he didn’t know the gender, if the child resembled Ilarid, it must have been beautiful from the moment of birth. He could only make such guesses.

Even when he entered the imperial palace, even when carrying out the mission Cledius assigned in Rosen, he always vowed to protect Ilarid.

But what use was it? He knew nothing of the pain Ilarid had actually experienced.

Before rising, Lebel embraced the tombstone. And as if it really were a child, he began to whisper softly.

“Please watch over us.”

I will certainly protect her.

If the past cannot be undone, then I will act for the present. He was prepared to sweep away everything that disturbed Ilarid’s present and future.

He knew that promises made before death were futile. Nevertheless, he wanted to speak them aloud. Perhaps if there was a soul, if it existed after death, it could hear.

He neatly rearranged the toys on the altar once more and left the place.

As if in response to Lebel’s vow, a gust of wind passed by the tombstone. The small toy moved ever so slightly, carried by the breeze.

**

“Lailo, let’s recall what we did today.”

“Alright, that’s good…”

“We definitely completed our morning training without missing anything, and the meal duty teams finished preparations on time. Right?”

“That’s right…”

“And in the afternoon, everyone did their autonomous training as well? No one was absent, right?”

“No one was.”

“Then… what in the world is happening right now?”

Eddie and Lailo were lying companionably on the sandy ground of the training field. Their faces looked utterly exhausted, as if their souls had been sucked out.

The problem was, they weren’t the only ones sprawled out.

Including Luth, all the mercenary unit members were sprawled in miserable states, drenched in sweat. Everyone was on the verge of collapse, barely able to communicate beyond simple yes or no responses.

“Captain! Please tell us the reason!”

Eddie shouted, abruptly raising just his torso. For someone who claimed to be exhausted and drained, it was quite a loud voice.

“Oh my, youth is indeed wonderful. Seeing your waist is still fine, you must still be full of energy.”

“What energy? I’m barely hanging on through sheer willpower!”

In the wailing training ground, Lebel was the only one standing on two feet.

He had only set down his wooden sword for a moment, not sitting or leaning on anything. He even started unwrapping the bandages on his hand, as if planning to continue training.

Blood seeped through the bandages, as if calluses had split. Lebel frowned as he roughly retied the knot.

The mercenary unit’s night training was brutal. On normal nights, the training was so light it barely deserved to be called ‘training’, just a simple cool-down exercise.

But today was different. After Lebel joined the training with a grim face, a truly hellish time unfolded.

“Next!”

“Where is there a next! Everyone’s already collapsed!”

“Ah, I think I just saw my mother and father. They’re waving at me from over there…”

“Hey Eddie, snap out of it. Don’t follow them.”

To the members’ eyes, Lebel’s appearance was that of a monster incarnate. What on earth was this man’s interior made of, to not get tired at all?

Moreover, he had faced all the members alone. Yet without showing any sign of fatigue, he was tidying up the cracked wooden swords.

“Just what happened to him?”

“I don’t know, he went out in the afternoon and came back all stiff.”

“…He’s angry.”

Luth, who had been lying like a corpse near Eddie, raised his body like a ghost and muttered.

“Luth, make some noise before you get up. My heart’s already racing from exhaustion, you’re making it race more by startling me…”

“Just stay lying down. The captain looks ready to destroy someone right now. Four wooden swords, no, five including the one just now, have already broken. When he’s like this, he seems more beast than human…”

“Living up to his nickname, I’d say. That’s the Beast of the North, alright.”

Finally, Lebel picked up the broken wooden swords from the ground and left the training field. It was an unspoken signal that today’s session was over.

Only then did the members let out sighs of relief and slowly raise their bodies.

“I’m booking muscle pain for tomorrow.”

“I think mine’s already started. Oh, my aching bones.”

Lebel headed to his room, leaving the members’ grumbling behind. Usually when his mood was turbulent, moving his body would help, but today it didn’t seem like it would be easily calmed.

The source of his unease was the green scarf in Cledius’s hand.

Unlike himself, who couldn’t obtain anything of Ilarid’s, Cledius took her without hesitation and simultaneously despised her.

Was it jealousy, or anger? Lebel swept back his disheveled bangs, considering himself pathetic. A self-deprecating smile appeared beneath his hand.

And Ilarid’s hardened face overlapped. A woman hiding both sorrow and anger. A bare face she would never show to strangers.

Sorrow naturally seeps into those nearby, even without actively sharing it.

Lebel shared a common denominator with Ilarid. Perhaps they could comfort each other, soothing the pain clotted on each other’s sorrows.

But the wall of status was high. Even though the class system was shaking and Ilarid didn’t adhere to formalities, she was still royalty.

Lebel, whose origins were unclear, could only remain right behind her.

A damned position unable to embrace the noble one. His molars clenched involuntarily.

He didn’t ask for much. It would be enough to just look straight at Ilarid, and occasionally reach out to brush back the hair that fell by her ears.

‘Then… I have no choice but to climb up.’

When he clenched his fist tightly, the new wound throbbed. Deep wrinkles formed between Lebel’s brows. When he opened his palm, the wound that he had tried to stop bleeding seemed to have reopened, as red marks appeared on the cloth he had wrapped.

As Lebel was taking out new bandages, there was a knock at the door.

“Captain, it’s Lailo.”

“Come in.”

Lailo, entering the room, immediately clicked his tongue upon seeing Lebel’s messed up hand.

“Look at this. When you recklessly push your body like that, of course you end up bleeding profusely.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Even while grumbling, Lailo took out ointment, applied it over the wound, and wrapped clean bandages. He glanced at the captain’s expression and opened his mouth.

“By the way, are you really alright? The guys are worried sick.”

“Tell them all they did well keeping up with the training.”

“We nearly died, you know.”

Lailo chuckled and looked at Lebel’s right hand, neatly wrapped in bandages. The captain always pushed his body to the extreme whenever he was troubled or faced obstacles. It was a hundred, no, a thousand times better than taking it out on others needlessly.

“I hope you’ll be gentler with your body. Have you forgotten how many livelihoods depend on your body, Captain?”

“I know. That’s why…”

Lebel trailed off, clenching and unclenching his bandaged hand a few times. Lailo instinctively sensed that the captain was thinking of something big.

“I’m thinking of recruiting more members.”

“Oh, how many?”

“As many as possible. Those with basic skills. I plan to request it from His Majesty the Emperor tomorrow.”

“It’d be great for us if our numbers increase. But will the emperor here easily allow it? Why would he invest in contracted mercenaries when he could build up his own army?”

Despite Lailo’s concerns, Lebel’s expression didn’t darken.

If the emperor expressed doubt and refused, he planned to leak information about the north. Lebel knew Cledius’s ultimate goal.

To unify and rule the entire western continent. For that, he would need a lot of information, including the geography of the north.

Many nomads lived scattered in the north. Rather than dragging the imperial army into war, it would be more beneficial for the relatively smaller mercenary unit to engage in battles in the north.

For Ilarid’s sake, Lebel was willing to bow and kneel if necessary. If his pride would be damaged to that extent, it was better not to have it in the first place.

What could be more stimulating to the peripheral nerves than the moment of stabbing high-ranking people in the back? And when Cledius turned around, he intended to immediately plunge the dagger he had been preparing.

‘Cledius, since you’re the one wrapping love in lies…’

Fiction must be met with fiction. Only then will he realize the painful reality and crumble. It was one of the revenge methods befitting an arrogant fellow like Cledius.

‘Well then, let’s see how you like receiving false loyalty.’