Episode 54
The eastern Marcana region had regained its vitality.
Residents who had fled from the basilisk returned, and those who had stayed in safer neighboring homes were now back in their own.
The scenes of repairing the attacked homes were full of energy.
Hands busily removed shattered windows and fitted in new glass.
The sound of squeaky doors being unhinged and new hinges being fixed echoed here and there. Bricks stacked up on broken walls could be seen everywhere.
Children played on the dusty roads, while adults climbed onto rooftops to fix tiles, laughing and chatting.
From somewhere, the rhythm of hammering resonated, and the sharp sound of saw blades cutting through wood filled the air.
Some tidied up the swept-away yards, breathing in the scent of earth, while others wiped sweat from their brows as they replaced broken fences with fresh timber.
With the threat of the basilisk gone, the city was quickly returning to its daily life.
At the center of it all were the chickens we had brought back.
“Is this my chicken?”
I handed a soft, brown-feathered chicken to an old woman.
“It most certainly is! These are my babies!”
The old woman received the chicken with both hands, her face full of emotion. All the chickens had bright pink ribbons tied around their necks.
“To think you helped defeat the basilisk! All my effort raising you was worth it!”
She held the chicken close, wiping her tears as she lovingly stroked its head.
The chickens looked happy to be home.
Antonio was unloading the chickens from the cart one by one and handing them to the residents.
“Is this your chicken?”
He held a large black chicken and asked. A young farmer jumped up, clapping his hands.
“Yes! That’s our head chicken, Blackrock!”
The farmer laughed joyfully as he received the bird.
“Blackrock, you really were something. I’ll make sure you get even better food from now on, alright?”
“Sir Knight, is our chicken a hero too?”
A child peeked out from behind the farmer, eyes sparkling, and asked Antonio.
Antonio gave a soft smile and patted the child’s head.
“Yes. Your chicken played a big role in defeating the basilisk. A very brave one indeed.”
The child hugged the chicken tightly, overwhelmed with happiness.
“Grandpa! Blackrock is a real hero!”
Even though I had been running around all morning with Antonio, my steps felt light.
Seeing the residents’ faces light up as they reunited with their chickens filled me with energy.
Children clutching their chickens with joy, adults bursting into laughter as they shared stories, and chickens roaming freely among them—
It all blended together, making the entire village feel alive.
“Sometimes, it’s the most unexpected ones who make the biggest difference.”
Antonio said with a gentle laugh.
“Aren’t you tired?”
He looked at me, sensing my condition.
“Not at all. If anything, I want to keep doing this.”
I smiled brightly at him.
Returning the borrowed chickens was a simple task, but the warmth and laughter shared with the villagers throughout the process kept me from feeling even a hint of exhaustion.
Perhaps, these are the moments that hold the truest sense of fulfillment.
While we were wrapping up the chicken returns, a steward from the House of Count Valteor approached me.
He seemed a bit tense as he bowed his head.
“Lady Josephine, the Count of Valteor requests a private audience with you.”
I paused for a moment at his words.
“The Count of Valteor?”
I asked again, examining his expression.
He nodded and added,
“The Count awaits you in his private study. He said he has something important to discuss.”
I quietly sighed.
With the knight commander Antonio beside me, it felt strange that only I was summoned. I didn’t know the Count well, and the idea didn’t sit well with me.
But it wasn’t something I could refuse.
“Understood. Please lead the way.”
I replied calmly, following behind the steward.
***
The Valteor mansion was too grand to simply be called a “mansion.”
Its towering spires and surrounding walls were visible from afar, standing as proof that this place was once the heart of the small kingdom of Marcana. Faded emblems of the old kingdom still adorned the massive iron gates.
Though the kingdom had vanished over time, this place had never lost its majesty.
The Count’s private study, where I was led, was overwhelming in itself.
Towering bookshelves stretched to the high ceiling, filled with old books decorated in gold and silver leaf.
Sunlight filtered through thick red-and-gold curtains from a large window, casting a warm glow across the room. The marble floor echoed softly beneath each step.
In the center stood a massive desk carved with intricate patterns, and behind it stood the Count of Valteor.
As I had felt the first time I saw him, the Count had a striking presence.
His platinum hair glistened like silver in the sunlight, and his crimson eyes gleamed like freshly cut rubies.
Though slender, his posture and movement carried the dignity and grace of a former prince.
He wore a neatly fitted black uniform that only amplified his aura.
Raising his head slightly, he smiled as he looked at me.
“Thank you for coming.”
I gave a slight bow in return.
“You called for me, Count.”
He gestured calmly toward a chair.
“Please, have a seat. I’d like to speak comfortably.”
I accepted his offer and sat down. He took the seat across from me, his eyes fixed directly on mine.
“In all the urgency, I’ve not yet even learned your name.”
He rubbed his chin lightly with his fingers as he spoke.
“I’ve heard you’re an advisor to the Crown Prince. But formal introductions are in order.”
I met his crimson gaze and replied calmly.
“I’m Josephine.”
The Count repeated my name and nodded.
“Josephine. There’s something familiar about your face.”
There was a note of intrigue in his voice.
He might have seen Joanna, whom I resemble. Back when Marcana was still a kingdom, there were diplomatic exchanges with Iote, so it’s likely he met her.
Still, I had no intention of revealing my royal lineage.
“To be entrusted by the Crown Prince… It’s an honor to meet someone of such merit.”
I didn’t respond to his compliment.
Though his tone was polite, there was a subtle edge to his words that I didn’t like.
I still couldn’t tell why he had summoned me or what he wanted to say, but this meeting was clearly not just a casual greeting.
The Count of Valteor kept his eyes locked on mine, still smiling faintly.
There was a sharp, penetrating quality to his gaze—as if he was trying to read something hidden.
I met his stare unflinchingly, waiting for his next words.
The Count rolled a quill pen on the desk with his fingers and finally spoke.
“I’ve read reports from my officials about the strategy you devised.”
“…Yes.”
“Using chickens to fight a basilisk—such an idea is astonishing. Would you explain it to me in your own words?”
I nodded and began calmly.
“While comparing the houses attacked by the basilisk to those left untouched, I noticed a common trait—houses with chickens weren’t harmed. At first, I thought it was coincidence, but further investigation showed that the chickens’ crowing was fatal to the basilisk.”
The Count rested his chin on his hand, eyes fixed on me with interest.
His gaze seemed to analyze every word and expression of mine.
“So, we used the chickens to paralyze the basilisk. Afterward, our knights equipped with mirrored shields finished the job. It wasn’t my doing alone. Without the team’s cooperation, it wouldn’t have been possible.”
The Count stared at me for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh.
“Conscripting chickens to incapacitate a basilisk, then having magic knights finish it off… The title of strategist suits you well indeed.”
