Chapter 60: Chapter 83 - The blue-eyed knight (1)
"What are you thinking?"
Joseph, montarily stunned by the sunlight, quickly opened his eyes and raised his head.
As his vision beca clearer, he could see Peter looking at him closely.
He seed to ponder for a mont whether he should worry about his weak son as a father or scold him harshly as the head of the family.
"You seem tired."
"I’m sorry."
His father’s gaze slowly began to appear in Peter’s eyes.
You must be tired.
From Soara, he had to constantly rush to Sturma and prepare to knight Vlad.
It would have been impossible for a boy nad Vlad to be nad a knight in the youngest and shortest period in the history of the Bayezid family without Joseph’s presence.
"I gave the boy the sa status you wanted."
"Thank you."
Joseph quickly looked out the window to regain his senses.
Although it was difficult to see the landscape outside because of Peter’s appearance, the snow hanging from the window fra gave Joseph a sense of freshness.
"There will soon be a eting where all the lords of the North will gather."
"...Is that so."
However, there was no need to wake up by looking out the window.
Peter’s words that he soon heard surprised Joseph.
"Is this a major eting?"
"Yes."
The Northern Conference has not been convened even once in over ten years.
Joseph’s eyes naturally began to grow heavy upon hearing that it would happen soon.
"I didn’t even notice it."
Since it was a gathering place for all the lords of the North, there should have been signs everywhere.
But Joseph didn’t feel anything like that.
This may an that security was kept so tight or that the process was carried out so hastily that no one noticed.
"I want the Lord of Deirmar to sit in that position."
A word with many anings.
When Joseph felt puzzled for a mont and couldn’t open his mouth, Peter grabbed the bottle of alcohol next to him and began to pour it silently.
Soon, only the aroma of the clear brown liquid and the sound of flowing water filled the office.
"Baroness Alicia will know. Deirmar can no longer cross between the North and the Center."
The tis of peace are over.
Now is the ti to unite to survive.
And that choice will be even tougher for the fiefs that have maintained neutrality, like Deirmar.
"...Will she choose us?"
"I know why you’ve worked so hard."
Peter looked at his son sitting in front of him with deep eyes.
His second son, Joseph Bayezid, is smart but weak.
Yet, I know he fought desperately because he wasn’t born with sharp teeth.
"I’ll do my best to support you. As for Deirmar, but you are Bayezid."
So, you should also bear that fight.
Both as a father and as the head of the Bayezid family.
"Thank you, father."
"It’s been a while since you appeared, so take a few days off. Enough to satisfy your mother."
When Joseph, noticing that the conversation had ended, left the office with a subtle smile, Peter took the glass next to him with a brief sigh.
"I’m worried..."
Deirmar is probably not the only one wondering what to choose.
Peter is also at a crossroads and will have to make a decision in the coming years.
The blood of the nobles should be of a cold blue.
Because on their shoulders lay an imasurable amount of duty and responsibility.
Peter stood up and looked out the window, holding a glass full of alcohol.
Winter was approaching with the snow.
As Advisor Ragmus said, it seed that this winter would be colder than last year.
***
Bright cape, shiny armor.
Vlad, who left the mansion just like yesterday, now stood atop the walls of Sturma.
"Yes, it was a landscape like this."
Vlad said, looking at the scene in front of him.
The sunset color passing through the horizon, dyeing the northern plains and the walls of Sturma red.
"It was a sight I wanted to show you at least once."
Ramund said, looking at Vlad, who was gazing ahead with a blank expression.
He had always been dressed in tattered clothes, but his current appearance was completely different from before.
Although he didn’t have a full suit of armor, he wore the surcoat and cloak commonly worn by knights, and he looked like such a proud knight that anyone who saw him would nod their head.
"The walls of Sturma have grown drinking blood."
Vlad turned his head unknowingly when he heard a serious voice coming from beside him.
"The blood of our enemies and the blood of Bayezid."
Ramund stood there, facing the boy in a very different atmosphere.
"And the ti will co when you will also have to shed your own blood."
"..."
Vlad, who seed to know what Ramund was talking about, simply nodded silently without saying anything.
Soone’s blood is needed to protect sothing.
And the beings called knights were people who swore they would willingly shed their blood when that ti ca.
The old knight was explaining the fundantals of knighthood to a boy who had just beco a knight.
"Understood. Old man."
"It’s Ramund."
The one who wandered the lowest places now pronounces his na.
"From now on, call
Mr. Ramund."
He had road with his old body in search of honors he had not been able to collect, and now he only had in his hands the last piece of honor.
"Take it."
And finally, the old man could escape from the lowest position.
Handing over to the boy the last coin he had with him.
"What’s this?"
"The price of your armor that I paid."
The food I received from you, the lodging fee at the inn that I rented for you.
And for all the possibilities you showed .
A ducat to pay for it all.
"Just this?"
"That’s all."
Vlad frowned at the very rusty coin, but Ramund simply smiled at the boy who didn’t know anything.
"That’s enough."
The old man owed the boy a lot over the years, and it wasn’t the result of reckless behavior, but of careful intention.
The boy, who naturally beca a supporter of the humblest according to Ramund’s intentions, was simply confused by the old coin he had just pulled out, but he couldn’t complain in any particular way.
Now, the old man in front of the boy was not a stranger old man, but soone who had been his elder for a long ti.
"Please co to visit my mansion later."
"I know, right. I guess I can go there and get the amount that’s missing."
Ramund smiled at the boy grumbling quietly.
"Your visit is always welco. Mr. Vlad."
"...Yes?"
Vlad was montarily puzzled when he saw Ramund address him as Mr.
Because he hadn’t learned what to say in response in monts like this.
"It’s been fun so far."
Vlad only made a subtle expression when he saw Ramund offering to shake his hand.
The sword had served its purpose, so it separated from the boy.
The old knight had fulfilled his duty and now wanted to part from the boy.
"..."
Seeing Ramund bid him farewell, Vlad just caressed the coin he was given.
For the boy, the parting was nothing more than an awkward mont.
The setting sun illuminated the two people, along with the walls of Sturma, in crimson.
Vlad’s hand, shaking hands with Ramund, rose as slowly as the slowly waning sunset.
***
A man with blue eyes walked through the mansion.
The servants around him hurriedly bowed their heads as they looked at the shining armor and loose blond hair.
There was no place in the mansion where the man walked that was not illuminated by the light.
The sunlight shone through the windows everywhere, and the statues and ornants glead in the light.
The ornants had an ancient charm because they were old, clearly showing how noble the owner’s taste was.
"I’ve just returned to work, father."
Mirshea entered the foyer with confident steps, knelt politely, and bowed his head to the person sitting high up in the hallway.
"...Are you here?"
The twilight of his last breath illuminated where he was sitting.
The hand, resembling an old and withered tree, was stained with a red light shining through the window.
"...Report."
His age and energy could be seen in his voice, which cracked without any moisture, like a tallic sound.
The man Mirshea called his father could barely bear the weight of the years, so he could hardly sit in a chair as if it were carrying him.
"I’m sorry, father."
In the face of the difficult voice coming from above, Mirshea lowered his head even further as if regretful and began to report what had happened in the north.
Lindworm, the white dragon.
Because they realized its potential, the northern dragon attracted by the dragon fragnts was subdued by the Bayezid knights, not by the Dragon Slayer Knights.
"...These barbarians. They don’t understand my authority."
The old man, collectively describing the n of the north as barbarians, raised his bony fingers and struck the armrest, unable to hide his disappointnt.
The prejudice against the North that began long ago was still alive and well in the old man’s soul.
"I’m sorry."
Mirshea knew full well that his failure would be a great disappointnt to his father.
However, there was a major variable in my failure, and that variable will definitely bring great joy to the currently disappointed old man.
"But father. I found a good boy in the North."
"...A good boy?"
The withered old man raised his eyebrows at Mirshea’s sudden report.
Although everything in his body had turned white due to the heavy years, his blue eyes still glead.
"Have you ever been to the North? There we found a young dragon that had not yet opened its eyes."
Upon hearing Mirshea’s words, the old man closed his eyes deeply.
My closed eyelids moved constantly, as if searching through old mories.
"Have I only been to the North? I am soone who has seen all the places in the world throughout my life."
A seed is sothing that has the potential to beco sothing.
To spread those possibilities, the old man has been traveling across the continent over the years.
It was the belief and desire of the old man, and it was sothing worth risking his life for.
"Did your heart beat upon seeing the boy?"
"Yes."
"What was the color like?"
At the old man’s words, Mirshea raised his head and looked at him.
Blond hair and blue eyes.
The color that conveys the blood of the Dragulia family was there.
"It’s like us."
"...Yes."
The dry old man smiled grimly at Mirshea’s words.
With that smile, the twilight that barely hovered on the horizon began to fade away.
"Even so, seeing that the dragon pieces don’t call out, it seems he hasn’t opened his eyes yet, as you said."
Darkness began to seep into every corner of the mansion along with the voice of the old man, which suddenly beca moist.
An appearance completely different from the mansion seen in the sunlight.
The ancient statues only seed sinister when dark shadows seeped in, and the paintings depicting beautiful landscapes emitted an eerie atmosphere to anyone who saw them.
"Sowing seeds is always difficult, and the waiting ti is painful, but still, humans continue to repeat the task."
The foyer finally filled with darkness.
There, at the highest point, stood a man who had never been seen before.
"I have also been like that."
Golden blond hair.
Light blue eyes.
And a middle-aged man with a dignified appearance and aura.
A man who had absorbed the moisture of the darkness descended through the foyer.
"I would like to see that boy."
Brigantes, the capital of the empire.
A mansion in the center of that place as well.
The oldest blue eyes shone in the place where it was said to reside.
Duke Dragulia, the Dragon Blood Duke.
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