Chapter 133
Such a vicious plan.
Poisoning the water supply meant that no one would be able to drink, wash clothes, or even bathe.
Since the water would flow along the aqueduct, the river would inevitably become contaminated as well.
Yet they were still determined to poison it. That meant, aside from those gathered here, it didn’t matter if everyone else died.
“A certain level of sacrifice is unavoidable.”
Count Brienne declared solemnly, and the old nobles around him let out low groans. It was an extreme measure, but ultimately, it was the only answer.
If they couldn’t eliminate them by force, they would have to poison their food and drink. That was the only way to reclaim the kingdom.
“The barbarians must be wiped out….”
Someone muttered like a sigh. The words left unsaid were obvious.
Once the barbarians were driven out—who would become king?
Establishing a new dynasty was no easy feat. A civil war would undoubtedly break out.
The country might even fracture into pieces, with various factions declaring themselves kings.
Some might unite their neighboring territories, draw new borders, and declare independence.
“For now, let’s focus on exterminating them.”
“Agreed.”
Hiding their individual ambitions, they downed their liquor.
For now, their task was to collect and store water for emergencies.
Crossing the desert wasn’t as difficult as expected.
Most importantly, Yasamin was highly motivated, making the process swift.
Though the number of infected was disturbingly high, the morale of the warriors was even higher, allowing them to reach Wilkeron in record time.
“We have been awaiting your return, Your Majesty!”
When they arrived at the castle, the gates were thrown wide open.
As Yasamin received the greetings of the warriors who had been waiting for him, Siren gazed out at the castle through the carriage window.
It felt so unfamiliar.
Yet, in truth, it hadn’t even been that long since she had left.
Was it because of the rotting heads hanging from the walls?
“Hiiik!”
“Kyaaah!”
The screams of the surviving blue-eyed women, who had struggled to stay alive, reached all the way inside the carriage.
Nicoletta and Daphne had sustained minor injuries, but they had survived nonetheless.
Perhaps some of those screams belonged to them.
Siren idly considered the thought before closing the curtains again.
“Madam, are you all right?”
Pamilla perked up her ears and spoke to her kindly.
“Yes, there’s no problem.”
“Hehe, if you ever feel unwell, please be sure to tell me!”
“I will.”
To be honest, she was almost looking forward to it.
What kind of welcome had they prepared for her?
What scheme would they come up with next to torment her, slander her, and try to kill her?
After suffering for years, she had no desire to utter foolish words like, “That can’t be,” or “The world is beautiful, we must trust each other.”
It was far better to believe that something terrible was bound to happen and prepare accordingly.
‘Where did I read that passage?’
One who despairs at failing to reach an ideal, dies spiritually and is reborn as the ideal itself.
She had come across those words once. And now, she had become the very embodiment of them.
“The king has returned!!!”
The warriors blew their horns and beat their drums. Amidst the grand and deafening commotion, she returned to Wilkeron.
The place where she was born.
It was time to face it.
That evening, the royal castle of Wilkeron was brightly lit.
With no servants left to prepare a banquet, the Grand Hall was devoid of drapes or flowers—only filled with people.
Most were southern warriors, but several nobles of Wilkeron were also present.
“Father!”
“…Nicole?”
“Huuuaah, Father… Father, huuu!”
Those who had survived ran into the arms of their families, sobbing, while those who had thought their loved ones lost forever stood frozen, unsure what expression to make.
Among the blue-eyed women, the commoners had already left the castle to reunite with their families. Siren had given them generous amounts of money—her own form of compensation.
If they went to the countryside, they could buy a small plot of land and farm. If they stayed in the capital, they could pay off debts or open a modest shop.
The choice was theirs. She had done all she could for them.
“How… did you return?”
“I missed you, Father. And Mother, too, hngh….”
“Do not ask how you returned! You should have died there!”
It was then.
Thud!
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