TTDBK 94

Chapter 94

“Don’t let a single one escape!”
“Sweep them all away!”

The forest instantly became a battlefield. The ambushers were none other than Kaedel.

Medo felt a wave of dizziness. Of course, he should have considered the possibility of an ambush. Kaedel would surely have planned for it.

Yet he had made such a basic mistake. He couldn’t think of anything else because guilt had clouded his mind.

“Form ranks! Counterattack!”

A soldier from Barberania shouted. Only then did the panicked Barberanian troops begin to regain their composure.

Medo fought in a semi-trance, swinging his sword as his body moved instinctively.

Then, a spear thrown by an enemy struck his horse, toppling it. Medo was thrown off. Dazed from the impact, he staggered as the Kaedel soldier who had thrown the spear approached.

At that moment, a terrifying, muscular horse charged to trample him—but a single iron shield flew through the air and struck the horse squarely on the head.

The horse thrashed in pain, and the soldier was thrown off, unable to control it.

“Retreat! Kaedel!”

At the order to retreat, the enemy quickly exited the forest.

Seizing the opportunity, Sharon ran to Medo, cradling her fallen husband’s head to check on him.

“Medo! Are you alright?”

“How did you…?”

He wanted to ask why she was here, but the words got caught in his throat. Still dazed, he had forgotten that she was marching alongside him for the teleportation. He was baffled why she was on the battlefield.

“I didn’t know I could throw something that heavy.”

Understanding her question, Sharon spoke with a flushed, triumphant face.

Because she thought he was in danger, she suddenly found superhuman strength.

Seeing her proud expression, Medo slowly came to his senses. But instead of feeling grateful, anger surged first.

“Why are you here?! This isn’t a place for you!”

Sharon froze in surprise at the fury directed at her.

Medo shook off her hand and struggled to his feet. Sharon tried to support him again out of concern, but he refused.

“Sir Medo, are you alright?”

Mark, catching his breath after the skirmish, asked. Medo nodded faintly, still avoiding Barberania’s gaze, and scanned the surroundings.

Bodies of their allies were scattered about—a level of casualties far beyond what he had anticipated.

They had expected to arrive before sunset, but the Barberanian troops, ambushed, reached Tosen Village only after nightfall.

“They were ambushed?”

Barberia asked upon seeing them. Medo’s face was grim, and he gave no reply.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty.”

Medo bowed his head deeply, speaking in a troubled voice. Mark, noticing the tension, stepped forward.

“No one could have predicted Kaedel would be lying in ambush.”

Attempting to defend him, Mark was interrupted as Medo shook his head.

“I expected it. I foresaw it, yet I still lost soldiers because I failed to prepare.”

“Then why didn’t you prepare, knowing it?”

Barberia asked, arms crossed. Medo bit his lower lip, unable to respond.

“Medo.”

“….”

“Are you sulking because we haven’t seen each other in a while? Why are you so silent? Are you defying me?”

Kurya always shut her mouth when things went against her, but Medo wasn’t Kur.

Barberia grew frustrated at Medo’s silence. Just as her temper began to flare, Mark intervened.

“Sir Medo is probably exhausted from the battle. He also fell from his horse and was unconscious for a while.”

“Is he hurt? Then skip the camp and use an inn room.”

Barberia gestured, ordering him to rest. Medo bowed his head and retreated, avoiding her gaze.

Barberia scowled at his back. Something felt off. How many battles had she fought alongside him before?

No matter how grueling the fight, Medo had never behaved like this. It wasn’t just fatigue.

“Medo.”

On top of that, he was acting oddly toward Sharon as well, coldly rejecting her attempts to approach him.

Something is wrong, Barberia realized, and after dinner, she sought out Mark’s room.

“So, what happened to make Medo act like that?”

She asked directly.

“Well… maybe he feels responsible for the ambush?”

Mark admitted he wasn’t sure, offering her a steaming cup of tea.

Barberia perched on the bed, taking the cup. She sipped and immediately frowned.

“Still tastes awful. Why can’t you brew tea properly?”

“If you’re going to scold me, you don’t have to drink the tea,” Mark replied awkwardly, sipping his own.

True, it wasn’t mandatory, but Barberia always demanded tea during conversations.

“You give Kur tea, but I can’t have any? That’s unfair.”

“You’re impossible, Your Majesty,” Mark sighed. Sipping the warm tea eased the fatigue of the day’s battle.

“You sometimes speak to the king with quite a cheeky attitude,” she noted.

Kur’s arrogance often overshadowed it, but listening closely, Mark wasn’t meek either.

Barberia’s remark made him mumble a denial, then he diverted the topic.

“If it’s about Sir Medo, it’s faster to ask him than me.”

Mark placed his half-empty cup on his lap.

Barberia sipped again. The tea remained bitter and unpleasant no matter how many times she drank it.

“I actually have something to consult about.”

“Regarding the battle mana stones for Kur? I brought plenty from Martu and Yasgo.”

Fortunately, even with the ambush, they had safeguarded those. Mark proudly mentioned it.

Barberia muttered, relieved, blowing on her tea.

“The ballista won’t fire.”

Mark, trying to lift the cup, spilled it all over his lap.

“Ah, hot, ho–!”

He ran around in distress before calming down. Tears glistened at the corners of his eyes as he dabbed the fabric over his legs.

“The ballista won’t fire. I feel like my arms might tear if I try.”

Barberia stared at him incredulously. Mark leaned closer, whispering softly:

“Does Kur know about this?”

“Not yet.”

Mark rotated his eyes anxiously, then sat beside her.

“If it’s Kur, then he’ll handle it.”

Once rivals who wanted to eliminate each other at every opportunity, now so cooperative. Both were valued subordinates and friends; Barberia didn’t want them to fight. Still, seeing them so close stirred a strange jealousy.

“What about the dragon in Lancaster you mentioned in your letter?”

“Karna is a problem.”

If it were Karna, the moment Barberia discovered she couldn’t use the ballista, he’d seize the opportunity to strike.

“When did the problem start?”

“In Lancaster,” she replied casually. Mark’s eyes widened—meaning she had faced Karna without the ballista.

“I managed to get through there unnoticed,” she continued.

The problem was that Lancaster’s troops would soon join them, possibly by tomorrow. If discovered, an ally could turn enemy. And this wasn’t just any foe—it was a fully capable dragon.

“I thought things were getting better, but after visiting Amistree, more trouble arose.”

“The black matter in Amistree absorbs magic.”

The ballista was a form of magic; perhaps the absorption of her internal magic caused the issues.

“Then if I consume mana stones like Kur, it’ll work?”

“Your Majesty, even humans cannot recharge magic by consuming stones. Otherwise, all mages would keep them in their mouths.”

Barberia clicked her tongue. Still, Mark shared some good news:

“There are herbs that help circulate magic.”

He would look for them first. Though many problems remained, Barberia felt slightly relieved.

She often expressed herself freely but found it difficult to share truly serious concerns—there were no friends she could trust completely. But now, there was someone she could confide in without fear.

Barberia returned to her room with a slight smile, where Kur leaned against the window in his usual indifferent posture.

“Where have you been?”

“To see Mark.”

She answered honestly, leaping onto the bed. After days of camping, it felt wonderful.

Kur approached, arms crossed, scowling.

“Why?”

“….”

“What. Why?”

Even as she pressed, he said nothing, glaring.

“What did you do with him?”

Barberia tilted her head, then a thought struck her, and she chuckled.

“Ah, I see. You’re upset because I went to see Mark.”