Chapter 64
“He’s a war hero.”
Angel began explaining about Count Bellua.
“25 years ago, he led a major victory in the Battle of Baraf. After that, he won several other battles and was given the title of Border Count as a reward.”
“So he wasn’t always a count?”
“Correct. He wasn’t even a noble by birth.”
Angel’s tone was full of admiration and respect.
“You seem to know quite a bit about him.”
“I’ve never met him personally, but I’ve heard many stories. He was my predecessor, after all.”
That’s right—Count Bellua used to be the commander of the Imperial Knights.
Since Angel had taken over that role, it made sense he’d be familiar with the stories surrounding him.
“Even when he was commander, he regularly came down to this territory to drive out nearby barbarian forces. Thanks to him, the annual winter skirmishes stopped completely.”
“…”
“That’s probably why the people here respect him so much. They still remember those times.”
Laura thought of the villagers, whose expressions had completely changed at just the mention of “the Lord.”
‘Even Asel doesn’t get this kind of loyalty…’
Despite 18 years of seclusion, the people here still revered their lord blindly.
‘Strange…’
Laura couldn’t understand it.
People forget kindness more easily than they admit. Eighteen years was a long time.
Sure, maybe older folks remembered the count’s glory days, but kids wouldn’t even know what he looked like.
‘Maybe it’s because it’s such a closed-off village?’
Asel agreed.
“Honestly, it’s bizarre. Loyalty that lasts this blindly for nearly two decades?”
They were staying at a local inn near the Count’s residence.
The Count had refused to meet them.
They only managed to find lodging at all thanks to Dindin, who had rushed over when he heard what was happening.
In rural places like this, money often spoke louder than power.
Across the table, Dindin chewed on lamb and said,
“Okay, so he used to be amazing. But still—doesn’t ignoring his own territory like this count as neglect? How does he not know his land is falling apart?”
Angel clicked his tongue.
“Don’t you understand what ‘seclusion’ means? It means he’s completely withdrawn—he’s not paying attention to the outside world.”
Dindin snapped back.
“I know what it means! I’m saying: even if he’s withdrawn, he still swore loyalty to the Imperial family. How dare he refuse to meet the Crown Prince? Can’t we just drag him out? Issue an order or something?”
Asel answered calmly.
“Forcing a respected lord like that would be a huge political risk.”
Especially in the borderlands, where the Imperial family’s influence was weaker.
“If we can’t use force, what about money? Sis, should I dump all the supplies I brought? Maybe we can buy off a few of the knights. Looked like some of them really love money.”
It was a simple plan, but oddly well thought out.
Buy the loyalty of the knights and have them bring out the Count themselves.
Angel was impressed.
“Wow. I never thought that cheapskate would offer to spend money. I’ve seen it all now. Or… is this a fake Dindin?”
He jokingly pulled at Dindin’s cheeks as if he could peel off a mask.
“Get off me, man!”
Dindin shoved him away with irritation.
Laura spoke up.
“Not a bad idea. But it would cost too much.”
Too inefficient.
“Besides, there’s a better way. No need to waste all that money.”
After cooling down, she realized there was a smarter solution.
“What is it?”
“We just need to open the warehouse and give the supplies to the people who were supposed to get them.”
Once the aid supplies were out in the open, everything would change.
“The donation goods all have the Imperial seal.”
Once the goods were exposed, they could fire the corrupt estate representative for misusing royal donations—and then, as an excuse, demand the Count’s appearance.
“The Count would have no choice but to show his face. And once that happens, we’ve achieved our goal: talking to him.”
“Wow… Sis, are you a genius?”
Dindin clapped like he was mesmerized.
“How are you planning to open the warehouse? The knights are guarding it. Are you going to send in the Imperial Knights?”
“Of course not.”
No need to cause injuries with force.
Laura stood up. The three men followed her, curious.
They returned to the warehouse.
Even at night, knights stood guard, while villagers still pleaded for aid.
“Please… just a little medicine…”
“I told you, it’s not happening!”
Laura pushed through the crowd and approached the entrance.
“Why are you here again?”
The representative wasn’t there, but one of the knights recognized her and frowned.
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind overnight. In the name of the Empire, I ask once more: will you open the warehouse?”
“No. I don’t serve the Empire—I serve the Count.”
“Impressive.”
That was the end of formalities.
As soon as she turned away, the knight stared at her like she was crazy.
‘Of course that’s not all.’
Laura stepped back five paces.
“Sirin!”
A gust of wind answered her call. The windbird circled her once—then launched toward the warehouse.
This time, no flashy introduction. Sirin just followed the command.
The knights scrambled to block the entrance—but Sirin didn’t head for the door.
Instead, she went straight for the side wall.
BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!
Sirin smashed through the left wall and exited through the right.
She repeated it over and over—until the walls holding the roof collapsed.
“What the hell?!”
“It’s collapsing!”
“Everyone, back away!”
The warehouse came crashing down.
‘Exactly as I planned.’
Laura smirked as she saw the sacks clearly marked with the Imperial seal.
The villagers were stunned into silence.
But only for a moment.
“What are you all doing? Start moving the goods.”
She gestured with her chin.
After a beat of silence—
“WOOOOO!”
“Flour! It’s flour!”
The villagers cheered and surged forward.
From a distance, Asel watched it all unfold.
He later recalled: it was wickedness worthy of royalty.
* * *
“Master, may I come in?”
“….”
“Master…?”
Count Bellua’s butler, Mandel, cautiously opened the door.
Inside, his master lay on the bed, staring blankly into space.
His skin, untouched by sunlight, was pale.
His gaze held no focus—just emptiness.
Still, to Mandel, this was the only master he had ever pledged to serve.
He swallowed his emotions and tried to speak brightly.
He had to stay strong when his master was like this.
“Master, someone from the Imperial family came today.”
No response.
“They came to inspect how the aid supplies were being used. I knew that stand-in was going to mess things up! He’s got some nerve, stealing Imperial goods. This might turn serious!”
He tried to use the words “trouble” and “Imperial family” to draw the Count’s attention.
After a long silence, the Count finally spoke in a hoarse voice.
“I don’t care.”
“…Sir?”
“Even if the Empire punishes me—I don’t care.”
“Please, Master…”
“Don’t disturb me.”
The Count closed his eyes.
He felt like his body was sinking into the bed—trapped in numbness.
He wanted to do something, but the overwhelming helplessness wrapped around him.
He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to react to anything.
And yet…
He stayed alive for one reason—
—because somewhere out there, his wife and daughter might still be alive.
