The spark of hope ignites. Or the seeds of despair sprout.

Whatever it was, the messenger from Duke Cellano visiting at this time could bring great change to Jeffrey.

And Jeffrey had no doubt that this change would be very useful and positive for him.

A secluded cabin about an hour away from the encampment.

Though annoyed that the Duke’s messenger had summoned him all the way here, he could understand the intention.

He probably didn’t want to reveal himself openly. The Duke had deliberately avoided getting involved in the war since it began.

Moreover, with the situation deteriorating now, he could understand committing such rudeness, as there was nothing to gain by openly revealing himself.

In such circumstances, the fact that the messenger came all this way created more room for positive interpretation.

It could be interpreted to mean that he ultimately wanted to offer some help.

If he was going to bring despair, he would have remained silent as before.

“Is it this way?”

As the adjutant who was guiding him nodded, Jeffrey flicked his hand.

The knight escorts and troops he had brought in case of a trap stepped back at his gesture.

Taking only his most trusted knight, Jeffrey passed the adjutant and entered the cabin, frowning at the foul odor that hit his nose.

Jeffrey grimaced at the stench, different from the smell of rotting wood.

Thinking he should hurry to meet the messenger and leave, he scanned his surroundings.

Unlike the shabby cabin, a table and chair covered with clean cloth were placed there, and a man who appeared to be Duke Cellano’s messenger was sitting in front of them.

As he approached, the messenger slowly stood up and bowed his head.

“I deeply apologize for making you come all the way here, Your Highness.”

A brief greeting and courtesy. The Duke’s messenger bowed his head according to protocol.

Jeffrey, who had been staring at him intently, approached and examined the chair.

The sight of a clean, high-quality cushion placed as if inviting him to sit contrasted with the shabby surroundings, eliciting a wry smile.

“It’s fine. Since the Duke sent someone personally, I should endure this much.”

Though he wanted to lose his temper right away, an artificial smile formed at the corner of his mouth out of reluctance.

“But what’s the reason for coming all the way here? I thought the Duke had firmly stated he would not get involved in this war.”

At the blatantly glinting eyes, the messenger gave a small bitter smile.

He looked around, then slowly got up from his seat and approached a door connected to a separate room on one side of the cabin, opening it slowly.

Jeffrey, who had been watching with a smile, froze as he saw the golden thread visible through the slowly opening door.

The woman who revealed herself by opening the door the messenger had opened for her. Ludmila Perez, who should not be here, was standing there.

Jeffrey reflexively rose from his seat and reached out to the knight, about to order him to arrest Ludmila immediately, but the messenger stepped forward first to stop him.

“Please calm yourself, Your Highness. The one His Grace the Duke sent as a messenger is not me, but the Imperial Princess.”

“…What did you say?”

Jeffrey frowned, forgetting even to use the polite speech he had been using with feigned courtesy.

Who was the messenger? The man who had been silently staring with dazed eyes exchanged glances with Ludmila, then stepped aside.

Ludmila, who had slowly come forward, approached Jeffrey.

Ludmila’s face, her flowing hair neatly brushed back behind her shoulders, looked more serene than ever.

His half-sister Ludmila, who had disappeared from the capital and then left even Aden, fleeing alone to who knows where, had revealed herself.

And with the title of the Duke’s messenger, no less.

“It’s been a long time, Your Highness.”

“…What on earth are you plotting? The Duke’s messenger? How could you…!”

Jeffrey, who had been speaking, paused and ran his hand through his hair with a sigh.

Having regained his composure, he returned to a calm expression.

“We should go back and talk. I was very worried when you suddenly disappeared from the capital. Havertz didn’t respond to demands to return you after kidnapping you, and when I heard you had disappeared, I was so worried.”

Ludmila had returned to him. There was no better bargaining chip to draw out the man cowering behind those massive walls.

Jeffrey suppressed his excitement at the situation of Ludmila rolling into his hands, and put on a deeply concerned expression to quickly win her over.

“Let’s go back, Ludmila. It would be good to calmly hear about what’s happened on the way.”

Just as he approached with a smiling face and tried to put his arm around her shoulders, Ludmila coldly pushed his hand away and looked up at him coldly.

“That won’t be necessary, Your Highness. I came here as the Duke’s messenger, and I am not currently in the position of Imperial Princess.”

How arrogant, to push away his hand like that, thinking she had the Duke’s backing.

Jeffrey’s face contorted, but since he was the one in need, he stepped back while trying to maintain composure.

Ludmila silently looked at Jeffrey, who had distanced himself from her, then slowly reached into her bosom.

“His Grace the Duke has judged this war to be useless for the Empire. He expressed great regret at the fact that war was waged to catch one uncertain criminal. Moreover, even if he is indeed a criminal, the Duke deeply lamented the fact that it escalated into a war that produced nearly 20,000 deaths.”

“What…”

“For that reason, His Grace the Duke has sent a firm recommendation to His Highness the Crown Prince.”

The letter Ludmila held out bore the Duke’s concise handwriting along with his official seal.

When he saw with his own eyes that it was a real letter, not a forgery, Jeffrey’s pupils trembled slightly.

“Stop the war.”

At those words, Jeffrey looked up to see Ludmila’s eyes gazing at him arrogantly, and he swallowed.

“That is His Grace the Duke’s proposal.”

It was late at night, after dinner had ended, when Neser returned to his room after finishing guiding combat training.

Though the fatigue accumulated from the grueling day’s schedule made his aging body heavy, Neser’s back remained straight, having lived his whole life as a warrior.

“My lord?”

Neser stopped in his tracks when he spotted Aden standing in front of his room door.

Surprised, he hurriedly approached Aden to check on his condition.

Aden, greeting Neser with a face not much different from usual, lightly held up the bottle in his hand.

“Would you like a drink?”

Polite speech, not informal.

Neser, quickly noticing that Aden had come to him as his grandson, not as the leader of the Kan tribe, calmed his wavering eyes and then nodded.

Neser entered the room and took off the coat he was wearing.

Meanwhile, Aden placed the glasses and snacks he had brought on the table and looked around the room intently.

A scene too luxurious and spacious to be called a mere guest room.

Aden frowned slightly, as if not very pleased with such a room, while scanning his surroundings.

Neser, glancing at his grandson, twisted the corner of his mouth.

“You don’t seem to like this room.”

“…It was mother’s room.”

Aden, who had been quietly looking around, spoke in a slightly delayed voice.

Picking up the bottle he had brought and removing the cork, Aden tilted the mouth over a glass.

“Whenever I came here, it was always full of the smell of medicine. Mother always greeted me lying in this bed. After mother passed away while staying here, I left it empty and never visited again.”

“Because of unpleasant memories?”

“No.”

Aden smiled slightly and handed the filled glass to Neser.

“I thought an unfilial son who couldn’t attend his mother’s deathbed had no right to enter the space where she met her end.”

Neser, unable to think of appropriate words to give his grandson, just stared intently at him, and Aden shook his head, pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, it’s all in the past. A story from over a decade ago that’s already passed… How about we have a more future-oriented conversation? Who knows when we’ll have another chance to sit face to face and share a drink like this, grandfather.”

Neser, who had been staring intently at the swaying glass reflecting the light, laughed lightly.

Meanwhile, Aden, who had approached beside him, moved towards the window Neser had his back to.

The lights of the enemy encampment beyond were clearly visible through the window.

After quietly observing that scene and tilting his glass, Aden turned his head.

“In your opinion, grandfather, what are our chances of winning this war?”

“To evaluate coldly, less than 10 percent. We’re short on food, morale is low, and we’re outnumbered. If we at least had enough weapons or arrows, we could do some harassing attacks on horseback with fire arrows, but even that is difficult.”

It was a cold-blooded answer befitting a man who had devoted his entire life to battle, from 50 years ago to this current war.

“Even if you, my lord, swept away a thousand men alone with overwhelming martial prowess, the situation is so bad it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Then conversely, what if we killed one person instead of a thousand?”

“One person?”

“The Crown Prince.”

At the plain answer that needed no embellishment, Neser wore a blank expression for a moment.