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Chapter 37

The sun had completely set, and night deepened.

The cries of insects in the wilderness echoed.

Duke Yuma stared at the man in front of him.

Sitting before him was Tornel, the marquis, who could be called the lord of the land Yuma was currently standing on.

This was because Tornel requested an audience with Yuma.

Tornel fixed his gaze on Yuma. His lips parted.

“Duke Yuma, I’ve sketched out a rough peace negotiation plan with Pineon’s great warrior, Martes, as you designated him for the discussions. Thanks to you taking down the Conqueror King, negotiations have gone smoothly.”

Defeating Pineon’s king, Kament, was why the warriors of Pineon had no choice but to accept the results of their defeat. Showing a power beyond that of humans was the biggest reason for their acceptance.

“We plan to receive two areas closest to our Empire from Pineon’s territory. We’ve agreed to receive grain and weapons for 20 years. They are a powerful nation that has devoured many kingdoms. They understand the weight of this treaty well.”

It was the level of compensation that any victorious nation ought to receive.

“And we’ve secured a unilateral non-aggression treaty for 100 years. Should Pineon make the first invasion on our homeland, they will face a full-scale assault from our kingdom and allied nations.”

“I see.”

Yuma nodded.

“But why are you reporting this to me?”

“Yuma, you are still the commander of this battlefield. Appointed through the royal family.”

A clear hierarchy of command. It might seem simple that Tornel was just stating this point. Yet, within that simplicity, there was Tornel’s distinct intention.

“I, Marquis Tornel, swear to actively support the First Princess Brigitte from now on.”

“The First Princess must be feeling quite reassured.”

Tornel chuckled, observing Yuma’s nonchalant demeanor. It seemed Yuma wasn’t particularly interested in showing support for the First Princess.

Tornel decided to ease up on the seriousness and shift the topic.

“You mentioned you have business in Pineon’s territory. When do you plan to leave?”

Without hesitation, Yuma replied.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Even a victorious army’s camp was still part of a battlefield. A place where the corpses of the fallen Imperial Army lay. Sometimes, stepping outside would reveal soldiers and knights mourning the deaths of their comrades.

It was not a place to linger.

“Will your numbers remain unchanged from when you arrived?”

“That seems likely.”

There didn’t seem to be a need to add any personnel.
‘Is it better to have at least one guide?’

It’s not like I have to roam around the heart of Pineon territory, just passing through the abandoned Gelpiel Forest should suffice, but still, it’s a foreign land. Naturally, it would be more convenient to have a guide.

However, I can find a guide after entering Pineon, so it’s not too late.

Squeak—

As Yuma stepped out of the barracks, someone blocked his path again.

“Nice to meet you! God of War!”

It was Haigelt, the second seat of the Empire’s Ten Lords. The scar above his eyebrow twitched, oozing with pride from his very toes.

But he restrained that pride.

Showing such emotions right after a war would be foolish.

“Are you headed to the capital? Then it would be nice to go together.”

“I still have business to attend to.”

“Hmm, is that so? I’m curious about your business.”

Yuma recalled the identity of the man in front of him.

Haigelt.

Leader of the Hollow Mercenaries.

And the second seat of the Empire.

“Are you going to support Princess Brigitte?”

Haigelt lifted the corners of his mouth at Yuma’s blunt question.

“Oh ho, are you hoping that I will support Her Highness the Princess?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Heh heh, Yuma. If you continue to support the First Princess, I would be more than willing to lend a hand. After all, you are the hero of Astes.”

Haigelt, a bloodthirsty lunatic thrilled by the thirst for battle in his brain, wasn’t entirely incapable of assessing situations.

The power dynamics of the throne war had already tilted too far. In favor of Princess Brigitte.

Yuma’s significant contribution to the victory of this war would tip the scales even further.

And his accomplishments were indeed towering. A lone hunter of dragons. A one-man army that could single-handedly change the course of battle, it was rare for any noble to turn such a being into an enemy.

“If the First Prince tries to do something foolish, I could protect the First Princess with my mercenaries. The troops I brought are not all I have. The Hollow’s banner is active throughout the Empire. The reputation I’ve built over my 60-year life is quite extensive.”

“You seem quicker on the calculations than I thought.”

Haigelt clicked his tongue and grinned slyly.

“I’m not quick with calculations; I’m just highly survivable.”

Preparing for any possible dangers that might befall Princess Brigitte, Yuma roped in the well-connected Haigelt and wrapped up the conversation, heading into his private barracks for a bit of shut-eye.
To prepare for any possible events that may arise, Duke Yuma had even recruited the well-connected Haigelt and, after concluding their conversation, entered his personal tent to catch some sleep.

Starting tomorrow, a grueling march to the land of the White Night clan awaited them.

*

The blazing sun of dawn rose.

Yuma stepped out of the tent entrance.

“….”

Someone was already waiting for him: Cassiela, the leader of the Dawn Revolutionary Army. Her red hair was pulled back tightly.

Yuma slowly opened his mouth.

“Please take care of the First Princess, Cassiela.”

Cassiela bowed deeply.

“Yes, Duke Yuma.”

Cassiela would head to the capital to assist the First Princess Brigitte.

“Come back safely.”

Yuma nodded slowly.

“Yeah, wait for me in the capital.”

Cassiela smiled brightly at his words.

As she stepped outside,

“Yuma! Are we leaving?”

The Cat-Folk swordsman, Hestia, perked her ears and approached.

Yuma donned a red cloak over his black coat.

The same red cloak that King Kament wore, a symbol of the emperor reigning over wide lands.

The red cloak fluttered majestically.

“Yes, we’re leaving.”

Yuma, Cloney, and Hestia.

The three headed to the border region, accompanied by twenty knights.

A rather impressive tent that had been hastily erected for peace negotiation caught their eyes.

Swish—

As Yuma opened the door and entered, someone sprang up.

It was Martes, the Great Warrior, now the negotiation leader for Pineon.

“God of War…!”

Without hesitation, Martes knelt down.

“Get up.”

Martes quickly stood up.

In the current situation, three out of five Great Warriors had died.

The Conqueror King’s son was only eleven years old.

Martes could very well become the king of Pineon.

As he led the peace negotiation, he could actually be considered the most viable candidate.

However, when it came to Yuma, Martes had no intention of bringing out his pride.

The more he contemplated the might Yuma had shown on the battlefield, the more his fear turned into reverence.

“All the warriors of Pineon should have received an official document. It instructed them to never touch the one wearing the Emperor’s red cloak and his party. And… please accept this.”

Martes presented two items.

One was a token with a lion drawn on it, and the other was a map.
“This badge is what the great warriors of the kingdom carry. You can use it for identification within Pineon. And this is the map of the kingdom.”

Swish

Yuma unfolded the map he received.

“I can’t possibly guess what business you have in the homeland, but aside from the capital and nearby cities, there are remarkably few development areas.”

Yuma slowly scanned the map.

“I suggest you hire a guide through the mercenary groups or information guilds spread throughout the kingdom. I’d like to assign one as your guide, but… they’re far more capable as guides than knights or soldiers.”

Yuma didn’t intend to ask Martes for a guide either.

Many of the warriors of Pineon, including Martes, looked at Yuma as a divine being, but even so, he was undoubtedly the king-slayer who had killed their king.

A guide contracted with money is far better than knights or soldiers.

“I understand.”

The map clearly marked Yuma’s destination, the Gelpiel Forest, in the common tongue of the continent.

‘The road is quite confusing.’

There was a prophecy from the Holy Maiden that the White Night Clan lay beyond the Gelpiel Forest.

The probability of the Holy Maiden’s prophecy being wrong was extremely low.

‘I need to find a guide who can lead me only to the front of the Gelpiel Forest.’

With his thoughts organized, Yuma neatly rolled the map back up and placed it into his Spatial Pocket.

“Thank you, Martes.”

Martes bowed deeply.

“Before you finish your business and return to the Empire, please visit me again.”

“I understand.”

Though it would depend on the situation.

Yuma exited the tent.

Martes remained deeply bowed until Yuma completely left the tent.

“Let’s go.”

Cloney and Hestia, who were outside the tent, approached Yuma.

“Yes, Lord Yuma.”

“Yeah, Yuma.”

At the border.

Nearly a thousand warriors of the Barbarian Nation stood in formation before the border line.

Without hesitation, Yuma stepped over the border.

The red mantle of a sovereign billowed over the black coat.

It was the cape of the deceased Conquering King.

A thousand warriors simultaneously knelt on their right knees.

“Respect for the great warrior─!!”

“Respect for the great warrior─!!”

This was their reverence for the one who had defeated their king.

It was an acknowledgment of their defeat.

Thus, it was a posture of submission they had taken.

The Barbarian Nation of Pineon, accustomed to subjugating others, now faced complete submission.

Yuma and his party entered Pineon.


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