My Ruin to You - Chapter 211

The imperial flag was planted in the lost land.

The front lines had collapsed, and the enemy had retreated. It was a great victory worthy of being recorded in history. Yet, no one at the center of that history was cheering. Even though they had reclaimed territory that had been ceded to the Carnoc for hundreds of years, a devastating atmosphere swirled through the camp.

“Is the total annihilation confirmed?”

“All twelve… not even their bodies remained. How could this have happened…”

The soldiers standing guard shared the messenger’s news and grieved.

“How great must the shock have been for that strong-willed person to have fainted?”

“Those vile barbarians… We must wipe them out on this very occasion.”

The knights, recovered from their injuries, burned with a will for revenge.

“This is unbelievable. Who says they’re dead? I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.”

“Th-that’s right! That weed-like young lady couldn’t have died like that. No, I don’t mean it as an insult, but that she’s that tenacious. Sob…”

The awakeners at the healing center denied the tragic news. A considerable amount of time had passed since the messenger’s visit, yet there was no sign of movement from the Grand Duke’s tent. Silence loomed outside the tent, while inside, there was no vitality of the living. Only the periodic changing of the guard signaled the passage of time.

Valen, who had lost consciousness from extreme fatigue and shock, only regained his senses when the dark night had fully fallen. Upon opening his eyes, he pushed aside his disheveled emotions and throbbing headache and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Y-Your Grace…!”

Sirga, who had temporarily become the acting attendant in Merrick’s place, hurriedly approached.

“Shall I call for a doctor?”

Sirga cautiously added. Valen, who had wiped his face with his cold hand, took in the traces of Roseline on the table and stood up.

“The messenger.”

“Is waiting.”

“Bring the messenger in.”

His voice, rough and cracked, was like a piece of scrap metal. As the short, dry command fell, Sirga, who had hesitated for a moment, left the tent with a stiff expression. Left alone, Valen tightly gripped the ribbon. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, mismatched with his pallid complexion. He ran his fingers over the half-burnt string, then rolled up his sleeve. He then wrapped the ribbon around his wrist, where his pulse was raging.

Pressing the quietly glowing magic stone at the end firmly with his thumb, he was about to throw off his sweat-drenched shirt when the messenger entered.

“I pay my respects to Your Grace, the Grand Duke.”

“Sit.”

The man’s back muscles, shimmering in the faint lamplight, were delicate yet solid. The messenger, who had glanced at the deep groove running down his spine, sat at the table with his head bowed. Valen picked up a fresh shirt hanging on the partition beside the bed and slipped his arm into the sleeve. He fastened the front and adjusted the cuffs before taking the seat of honor.

“Is the total annihilation confirmed?”

“…It is presumptuous for me to report, but yes, it is.”

“Did you see it with your own eyes?”

“I did not see it myself, but many knights stated they did.”

“Explain properly when, where, and what they saw. Do you mean they witnessed the situation at the time of the annihilation, or are they making presumptions after only seeing the scene where not even bodies remained?”

The gaze coming from across the table was as sharp as a honed blade. The questions, driven down in a sunken voice, were also piercing. The atmosphere was such that a single misstep with his words could cost him his head; the messenger’s mind went blank for a moment, and he swallowed dryly, forcing out his voice.

“There was an engagement. It seems the assault team tried to retreat back through the forest path they came from to avoid combat with the enemy, but a large number of defeated Carnoc troops were hiding in the forest.”

“However.”

“…It is presumed they met their end while resisting the enemies swarming in from all sides. When the rear guard arrived, only enemy forces and flames remained. After driving out the enemy, they extinguished the flames, but the bodies were completely incinerated…”

The messenger let his words trail off. It couldn’t have been easy to deliver tragic news twice, especially since the Grand Duke had fainted upon hearing it the first time.

“……”

The messenger cautiously observed the Grand Duke.

“No one saw it with their own eyes.”

Valen, who had been tapping the table with his thick fingers and ruminating on what he’d heard, let out a hollow laugh. The messenger thought the Grand Duke, having lost his beloved, had gone mad. It was truly a pitiful sight. Unable to dare comfort his tragedy, the messenger kept his head bowed and endured the grim atmosphere. It was then that Valen, who had run his red tongue over his lips, spoke.

“Astonishing.”

“……”

“Do you think it makes sense for a body to be completely incinerated, yet a scrap of cloth remains?”

A cold sneer struck the messenger’s weak point. The messenger recalled the unit leader, her face swollen from crying herself to exhaustion. Not just the unit leader, the entire front was submerged in mourning. Before the unexpected tragic news, the front had fallen into confusion, and the fear of having to deliver the terrible news to the Grand Duke had paralyzed their reason. The ones gripped by madness were not the Grand Duke, but them.

“My armor.”