Home The Forgotten Field Chapter 85

The Forgotten Field

Chapter 85
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Soon afterward, thunderous cheers shook the training grounds.

Lucas finally let out the breath he had been holding.

Varkas pulled the halberd from the man's chest and turned his horse around.

As the blazing firelight clearly illuminated his handsome features, the crowd's roar grew even louder. Lucas swept his gaze over the warriors whose faces were flushed red with excitement before looking back at Varkas.

Amid all that uproar, the man alone seemed infinitely calm.

With an expressionless face that almost hinted at boredom, Varkas crossed the arena and lightly jumped down from the saddle.

“See if House Gutvan has any other men worth using.”

Handing his weapon to the flustered attendant who had rushed over, Varkas gave Daren an order.

“If there is no suitable heir, then look among the retainers for someone fit to govern the southeastern region.”

“T-there is a rather capable warrior among his half-brothers.”

Daren answered in a trembling voice.

“He was originally supposed to join the Wolfram Lancer Order... and I hear he studied at the academy in the capital as well, so he should be more than capable of fulfilling the duties of a lord.”

Removing his iron gauntlets and handing them to an attendant, Varkas lightly brushed his lips with his fingers, deep in thought.

“Bring him before me as soon as possible. If I find him suitable, we'll hold the appointment ceremony immediately.”

Just then, two attendants removed the heavy breastplate from his chest. Now unburdened, Varkas cut straight through the crowd and headed toward him.

Lucas unconsciously stepped backward. Then, when the woman he had been holding staggered as though she were about to fall, he instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist.

In that instant, his head grew hot.

Her waist was so slender that even his still-growing hand could easily encircle it. Moreover, the pale skin that almost glowed in the darkness carried a sweet scent unlike anything he had ever smelled in his life.

What in the world is this smell?

Without realizing it, he lowered his face toward her neck and sniffed curiously.

Smack!

His cheek suddenly burst into flames.

Lucas blankly covered his face.

After pushing him away, the woman glared at him furiously and shouted.

“What do you think you're doing, you little pervert?!”

“P-pervert?”

He stared at her in confusion.

“I was only trying to stop you from falling...!”

“If you were trying to catch me, then why were you sniffing me?”

Lucas's face turned bright red. Seeing the contempt in her eyes, he was overwhelmed by a fierce shame unlike anything he had ever experienced.

With an aggrieved expression, he raised his voice.

“I only did it because you smelled strange...!”

This time, a burning pain spread across his other cheek.

Lucas staggered back.

What kind of woman is this?

He had often returned from brutal training covered in bruises, but in his entire life, no one had ever slapped him in the face like this.

Scowling in humiliation, he glared at her. Just as he was about to snap at her, Raina came running over and roughly shoved the woman aside.

“How dare you lay a hand on his face, you witch!”

Thanks to the powerful arms strengthened by years of riding, the woman's body toppled backward like a sheet of paper. The furious Lucas instinctively reached out.

Just as he was about to catch her—

A long arm snatched her away.

Lucas abruptly looked up.

Varkas, who had somehow reached them, was holding the woman in his arms and looking down at him with cold eyes.

“...It seems all of you need to relearn the most basic rules.”

Muttering icily, Varkas turned toward the deathly pale Raina and added,

“I forbid both of you from riding horses for the time being.”

“T-that can't be...!”

Ignoring Raina's protests, Varkas coldly turned his back on her and addressed Daren.

“Assign strict tutors to those two. Until they acquire proper manners, do not allow them to take even a single step outside the castle.”

Without even waiting for Daren's answer, he headed toward the keep.

Behind him, the warriors' enthusiastic cheers continued. Most easterners, who worshipped strength, appeared utterly captivated by him.

Meanwhile, the servants seemed terrified by the extraordinary power he had displayed. Some recited prayers, while others made the sign of the cross over their chests. The nobles, too, were engaged in heated arguments over the violent conduct of their future ruler.

Leaving all that commotion behind, the man calmly departed.

Watching his retreating figure in stunned silence, Raina belatedly cried out,

“This is completely unfair!”

She looked around, seeking agreement.

“She caused all this! Then why are we the ones being punished?!”

Leaving his younger sister on the verge of tears behind, Lucas walked toward the center of the ruined training grounds.

The soldiers cleaning up Alec Gutvan's corpse naturally stepped aside.

Kneeling beside the blackened body, Lucas carefully examined his elder brother's handiwork.

It looked as though the man's heart had been pierced in a single blow. Thick blood was flowing from beneath the caved-in breastplate, and brain matter was slowly leaking from his skull, which seemed to have shattered when it slammed into the ground.

When the soldiers finally removed the crushed helmet, bulging pale eyes and thick lips foaming with blood were revealed.

The man who had been hailed as the strongest spearman and swordsman in the East only this morning had met a truly miserable end.

“Looks like he was all size and no skill.”

“Impossible.”

Tyron, who had approached his side, let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.

“When he was still in his teens, he beat trolls to death with his bare fists, without even using weapons. Despite possessing such monstrous strength, he was also a warrior with exceptional technique. No one could have imagined that a man like this would meet such a meaningless end.”

Lucas looked up at him worriedly.

“Won't this become a problem?”

“It was a duel both parties accepted. If anyone raises objections, House Gutvan will become the laughingstock of everyone.”

He answered indifferently.

“Besides, although it was the Young Lord who proposed the duel, I hear this man was the one who first challenged his authority. No one will be able to criticize House Siorcan for today's outcome.”

After speaking firmly, the man turned his thoughtful gaze toward the gathering of nobles.

“Though there may be some discord among the lords.”

Lucas followed his gaze toward the seats of honor. The provincial nobles seemed flustered by the sudden replacement of the southeastern ruler.

Looking at the murmuring nobles, Tyron added with a sigh,

“The succession ceremony may be moved forward. To put an end to all this confusion, they will need a powerful Grand Duke.”

* * *

“Why are you the one who's angry?”

Curled up on one side of the bed with a sullen expression, Talia finally snapped.

Without answering, Varkas walked to the shelves and searched through a display cabinet. His demeanor appeared as calm as ever. Yet Talia could easily tell that his mood had sunk to rock bottom. Ever since they had returned to the room, he had maintained a stubborn silence and had not even looked at her.

It was absurd.

She was the one who should have been angry. Wasn't he the one who had gone off to fight without even pretending to listen to her?

Talia glared at him sharply.

The memory of that monstrous man charging toward Varkas made chills spread through her entire body, and her stomach twisted painfully.

Everything that happened afterward had left no impression on her at all. She simply wanted to thank God that he was safe.

At the same time, she wanted to beat this man who had made her worry so desperately.

Had her legs not been trembling so badly that she was on the verge of collapsing, she would have rushed over and acted on that impulse immediately.

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