I Became the Childhood Friend of the Northern Duchess – Chapter 167

Kelrag ground his teeth and slammed the floor inside the sturdy tent built for him.

The fists of the warrior known as the tribe’s best seemed embarrassingly weak.

You could say this scene perfectly illustrated his current state.

“Damn that sorcerer for pulling these stunts…”

I had a feeling something was off from the start.

But I got carried away by the sweetness of the terms they offered and that was my downfall.

Whether young or old, man or woman, everyone always perks up when someone promises to fulfill their dreams.

“I’m sorry, Burik. I should have listened to you after all.”

“I understand that this is the chieftain’s choice for our people. Please don’t blame yourself.”

Burik knew there was a risk in Kelrag’s choice, but he didn’t think that choice was wrong.

No, it was more that he understood Kelrag’s aspirations too well to stop him.

Knowing better than anyone what kind of grand dreams Kelrag held.

“After all, there’s nothing worse than taking flattering words at face value, right?”

“……”

Despite Kelrag’s bitter self-questioning, Burik couldn’t respond.

He knew that whether he affirmed or denied wouldn’t carry much weight here.

“How much food did they send over before?”

“If we use it sparingly, it’ll last us for two months.”

Recalling the granary he had just checked, Burik’s reply made a wry smile creep onto Kelrag’s face.

He realized he was trying to stay optimistic.

“So if we use it generously, we’ll be out in less than a month, huh?”

“…Yeah.”

The members of Kelrag’s tribe always struggled for food and supplies.

Even as the Empire grew and the Robeheim Family became more powerful, making the northern regions more livable than before, it was still, at its core, a cold, harsh land wrapped in snow and survival of the fittest.

Then this year came a sudden proposal from someone.

They offered enough food to feed the entire tribe for half a year just for attacking Whitewood.

They even promised half of it, even if we didn’t manage to take it down.

It sounded pretty dubious.

I couldn’t even find out who was making this proposal, let alone any proof they would keep their promise.

Just as I was about to refuse, they whispered sweet nothings into Kelrag’s ear.

“Don’t you want to revive your tribe?”

In that moment, Kelrag felt like he could stop breathing.

It was the biggest goal he had dreamt of since becoming the leader of his tribe.

His tribe was inherently born of proud warriors.

But to survive in this rugged and frigid northern land, they had come to pillage and steal from the weak, causing those around them to label them bandits.

Though it was a cruel choice for survival, Kelrag didn’t view it positively.

That’s why he secretly vowed to restore his tribe to their former glory, yet whenever he saw his starving people before him, he lost sight of that pride and resorted to pillaging yet again.

In this moment of despair, a demon approached him with two conditions.

The first concerned the earlier-mentioned Whitewood.

The second was to bring the Symbol of Dominion owned by the Robeheim Family.

If he completed the second condition, they promised he could live well without having to pillage again.

It was certainly a sweet proposal, but initially, Kelrag rejected it.

There were many rational reasons he couldn’t accept, but the biggest one was his fundamental suspicion: did they even have the capability to fulfill it?

However, as if they understood this, just four days after sending a messenger, they sent a massive amount of supplies and food without reason.

Well, if you want to get technical, there was a reason.

It was probably to instill a sense of trust saying, “Trust us.”

For the members of the tribe who were running out of food, it felt like a rain of relief in a drought.

Some of them even protested to Kelrag, asking what he was waiting for to accept their terms.

Perhaps in that moment, the future was already set.

“Ultimately, I couldn’t save my tribe and now my lowly body, the only thing left, is on the brink of death from the enemy’s curse… how pathetic can you get?”

“It’s not over just yet. There must be something we can do, chieftain.”

Despite Kelrag’s self-mocking words, Burik clenched his fists, trying to inject hope.

Wouldn’t it be utterly unfair to lose like this?

At the very least, they needed to show the bastards who betrayed Kelrag what for.

He had to find out who they were and make them pay.

“Definitely.”

This humiliation would be repaid even if it meant getting covered in filth and losing all honor, Burik thought, as he supported the coughing Kelrag.

Tonight, the moonlight streaming in through the tent’s cracks felt particularly weak and miserable.

* * * * * * *

A long, slender finger grabbed a bottle sitting on the table.

Inside it was some unknown liquid tinged with red.

It felt somewhat sticky as it sloshed around with the man’s touch, staining the clear glass a bloody hue.

“Baret.”

The man sitting in the shadowy chair scanned the man bowing his head in front of him and tasted the name on his tongue.

The one who seemed to be his subordinate hurriedly replied, keeping his head down, fearing he’d upset him.

“Y-yes…!”

Though it felt like no second had passed at all, the seated man’s expression twisted.

He hated loud noises. More specifically, he didn’t like when anyone else raised their voice.

Thus, he openly displayed his displeasure and set the bottle he was holding down on the table.

“I told you not to raise your voice.”

“I’m s-sorry!”

Having already been warned before, Baret Balthreg trembled like a aspen leaf while apologizing.

Even amidst this fear, a sense of relief washed over him for having kept his life.

It was only one time, and he had barely raised his voice, but there would be no mercy for someone who made the same mistake twice.

“When will you bring the items I asked for?”

“U-um, I believe I can bring them within three days. But… it might be a bit tricky to do it without attracting any attention, uh, ahh!”

Before he could finish his sentence, Baret screamed in agony and clutched the spot where his hand had been.

One of the five fingers expected to be there was now missing.

Only a bloody stump remained, dripping blood as proof of its existence.

“Tricky, huh?”

“I-it was a slip of the tongue…! Forgive me…!”

“…Is that so? Anyone can make a slip of the tongue. I forgive you.”

Despite having just cut off a man’s finger, the seated man merely nodded nonchalantly.

Not that the severed finger would magically grow back, but Baret bowed even lower, offering needless thanks.

“Thank you for your mercy…”

One finger didn’t matter compared to a life.

From the start, he knew better than anyone what kinds of fates awaited those who had crossed the man seated before him.

The punishment was truly horrific enough that “death is light” was an appropriate expression.

His own father, who had tried to betray this man, had met the same fate.

“Then as a price for my mercy, you’ll be sure to bring the hundred I asked for by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow… you mean?”

When Baret questioned as though he didn’t hear it right, the man’s unemotional gaze swept from his head to his toes.

“Why? Can’t you do it?”

“N-no! I will definitely do it.”

If he were to upset him again, the next time might genuinely be his last.

So, Baret shook his head vehemently, declaring his resolve to fulfill the order.

But it was closer to a desperate struggle for survival than a loyal vow of a servant.

“Speaking of which, sir… what of the foreign tribes you ordered before…?”

“Do I need to explain every little detail to you?”

“N-no…! I was just worried there might be some aftereffects…”

Baret was aware that he now held the power of life and death over their leader.

Moreover, he understood that they hadn’t even noticed the identity of the man they were serving.

But that didn’t make his anxiety disappear.

If any evidence slipped out from somewhere, they’d be caught.

This operation had been too large in scale.

“No matter how many dogs bark, it won’t reach a human ear. Even if this reaches the Emperor’s ears… you know what to expect.”

“Yes.”

Even if the Imperial Palace got involved, they wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

More accurately, they wouldn’t have the strength to do so.

From the start, Baret’s father had believed the upper echelons, which had led him to his death.

From that time, Baret clearly understood who the true master of this land was and how fearsome he could be.

As time passed in silence, the man seated in the dark furrowed his brow, rubbing his chin.

“By the way, the more I think about it, the more it bothers me… if I had just caught Yulken, roasting her wouldn’t have been an issue.”

The reason he had provided so much material support and reinforcements to the foreign tribes was precisely this.

Originally, the plan was to use the troops who arrived under the pretext of reinforcements to kill all the foreigners and erase any remaining evidence, then take Yulken.

Had it not been for the fact that the other side was the Robeheim Family, who possessed the power of dominion, it wouldn’t have been so painful that he couldn’t use magic to get what he wanted.

“I didn’t think of that. I really didn’t expect them to be so bold as to bring Yulken out…”

“It was that guy from the Imperial Palace who made that proposal, right?”

“Yes, it was Edgar Billhark.”

The man pulled the image of the red-haired man, fading from memory, back to his mind.

Certainly, he hadn’t seen that star in the destiny he had looked over.

He was merely left wondering where such a being had popped up from.

‘The invitation regarding the heir hasn’t worked. Best to lie low for now.’

The man believed that time was on his side.

Though it might be necessary to slightly modify the plan, he ultimately believed that what he desired would eventually fall into his hands.

‘There’s no need to rush.’

After all, once he held what he wanted, it was only a matter of reaching the end.

As those thoughts filled his mind, he glanced around the bizarre books and odd items strewn across the room, chuckling cynically.

And so another moon set.