Chapter 81
Hannibal sent the Imperial Army and Count Sandor’s private soldiers southward, ordering them to subjugate any monsters along the way.
He, meanwhile, was traveling upstream through the oasis, heading toward Tegenes with his troops.
“It’s a monster!”
As the war began to quiet down, it was just as expected—the season when monsters became active again.
Though he was on the way home, Hannibal gladly drew his sword to join the hunt.
Since they were always in a state of readiness, no one panicked at the sudden appearance of the monsters.
In fact, many soldiers welcomed it, saying it was more relieving to butcher beasts than to fight people.
“We’ve killed five. The rest are fleeing—shall we pursue?”
Oliver hadn’t joined the subjugation squad, as he was still keeping an eye on Miss Mighty.
As another officer reported, Hannibal responded firmly.
“Pursue them. The monster hunt was delayed this winter.”
He and his men drove their horses all the way to the desert’s edge.
They hunted down every last fleeing beast until dawn before finally returning to the camp.
“Hannibal.”
Oliver and an attendant were waiting for him. Hannibal approached, wiping the monster blood from his face.
“What is it?”
“Do you remember Grey Benton?”
Hannibal frowned as if wondering why that name had suddenly come up.
Of course he remembered.
He was the illegitimate son of the Duke of Benton, the reason Anne had been sent west.
Why bring him up now?
“What about him?”
“He’s become the new head of House Benton.”
“What?”
Hannibal looked at Oliver in astonishment. His friend handed him a letter.
“And apparently, he’s on his way here, to the west.”
“…Why?”
Hannibal unfolded the letter and read through the details of the situation in the capital.
He hadn’t paid much attention while focused on the war, but things seemed to have taken a strange turn.
Did the First Prince want to ally with the west? Or was he aiming to claim it?
He’d have to meet with Duke Benton himself to find out.
Or… could it be that he was coming to see Anne Ferro?
An ominous feeling stirred in Hannibal’s chest, and he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
“And last night, a nearby village was attacked by monsters. Since the Imperial and Southern armies were ordered to subjugate them, we can’t ignore it either. Hannibal.”
“I know.”
They’d managed to avoid direct conflict with Luto, only to now face a flood of monsters.
“What if I offered you my assistance?”
Miss Mighty stepped into the tent as she spoke.
Now considered a guest, she was still under Oliver’s watch but allowed to move freely.
“What kind of assistance do you mean?”
Oliver asked, and she held out her palm. A burst of flame flickered into life and then vanished.
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient? No casualties, and the monsters dealt with faster.”
Hannibal wanted to reach Tegenes Castle as soon as possible—sooner than Grey.
He wanted to meet Anne Ferro and finally confess his true feelings.
But—
He bit his lip and shook his head.
“I can’t accept that. The west will protect itself with its own strength.”
Magic was a mysterious power, and at times, it could even work miracles. But Hannibal didn’t believe in relying on it entirely.
It was true that Luto was a kingdom of magicians, known for their advanced sorcery.
But because of that, their military was weak. Powerful mages were rare by nature.
That was why they could never defeat Haiman, who had a massive and powerful army—or so Hannibal always believed.
“To choose the harder path when an easier one is available…”
Miss Mighty muttered with disappointment, but Hannibal cut her off firmly.
“Our soldiers are more than enough.”
The reason the west was respected as a separate state and maintained equal trade with Luto wasn’t because of witches or magic or even Haiman’s influence.
It was because of the blood and sweat of countless westerners, including the people of Clayde.
Hannibal believed that his ability to protect the west as its lord was thanks to that very foundation—and he bore it with pride and responsibility.
“Tegenes already has Anne and Victoria. They’re enough to meet the Duke. So… even if it means being late, we’ll complete the monster subjugation first.”
His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fist, forcing down his personal emotions.
Right now, he had to live as Clayde, as the lord of the west.
Upon hearing of Grey Benton’s impending visit, Anne finally told Victoria something she had never shared before.
“You ran away to avoid Grey?”
Hannibal probably already knew through his investigations, but it seemed neither he nor his aides had ever spoken of it.
Victoria looked truly shocked, as if hearing it for the first time.
“Yes. So please, handle the reception. I have no official reason to appear anyway, and I’d rather not run into him.”
“Got it! I’ll deal with the Duke! No problem!”
Victoria raised both arms triumphantly, but Anne quickly calmed her down.
“I’m not asking you to fight him. Duke Benton is a powerful figure in the capital. We need to find out why he came here—and observe how the Count reacts.”
Though she received reports from the servants who tended to the Count, there had been nothing particularly odd so far.
Right after Hannibal left for war, the Count had loitered around the underground passage, but only a few times.
“All he does is drink, throw parties, and waste money. What could the Duke possibly want from him?”
Despite Victoria’s grumbling, Anne remained alert.
Count Arthur insisted he was the rightful heir to Clayde. His anger and resentment toward the family and his son seemed deep.
But even in the Chronicles of Assad she’d found in the lord’s private library, there was no mention of a red-haired, red-eyed Assad Clayde.
Anne muttered to herself in wonder.
“Did Lord Assad Clayde also have silver hair and violet eyes?”
“Huh?”
If only silver hair and violet eyes passed through the witch’s bloodline, then perhaps their ancestor Assad had looked different.
At her question, Victoria narrowed her eyes, glanced around, then whispered quietly.
“I heard this from Lady Moira before. Assad Clayde actually had red hair and red eyes.”
“…!”
So Count Arthur had been right.
He was a Clayde anomaly, a mutation strongly inheriting Assad’s bloodline.
He likely wasn’t recognized as a true Clayde because he lacked the stereotypical witch-like appearance.
Which explained why, despite being the rightful heir, his wife acted as regent and newborn Hannibal was made lord.
Clayde had always been a strange and twisted house. Why had they hidden Assad’s legacy while claiming to descend from witches?
At any rate, Arthur had every reason to resent the Claydes.
His closeness with the nobles of the capital—rather than the west—could also be explained by that resentment.
He might even try to form an alliance with Duke Benton during this visit. Anne only hoped things wouldn’t spiral out of control.
She didn’t care about Grey’s arrival; all her concern was for the west.
After all, Grey was coming to see Count Arthur—not her. He had business with Hannibal Clayde and the west, not Anne Ferro.
That must be the reason.
Her relationship with Grey Benton had ended six years ago. No—there hadn’t even been much of a relationship to begin with.
They had only lived under the same roof in the ducal estate for a little over a year. After that, she only saw his name occasionally in Jamie’s letters, which she ignored.
Eventually, the front door opened, and a servant came running in with an announcement.
“Duke Benton has arrived!”
Anne followed behind Victoria, though she had no desire to greet him. Still, he was the highest-ranking noble in the Empire after the Emperor, so etiquette had to be observed.
The gates of the manor swung wide open, and the servants filed out in formation.
This was no party guest summoned by Count Arthur—this was a visit from the Empire’s most powerful noble.
“Welcome, Duke Benton!”
Count Arthur brushed past Victoria and strode to the front of the carriage.
Victoria sighed and stood at the center of the lobby. Anne stood one step behind her.
“Hello.”
A voice she hadn’t forgotten—familiar and sharp. Chills ran from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.
Grey Benton, whom she hadn’t seen in years, now fully bore the air of a Duke.
“What an honor. For the Duke of Benton to grace Tegenes with his presence—surely you’re incredibly busy!”
Count Arthur began his obsequious flattery, rubbing his hands together.
But Grey didn’t even glance at the bowing old man. His eyes searched the surroundings before locking onto a single spot.
“Anne!”
He called her name like greeting an old friend—or a long-lost lover.
The moment he saw her, Grey ran toward her without hesitation.
“Duke Ben…?”
Count Arthur blinked in shock as the man he had tried to greet brushed right past him.
“Welcome, Your Gra—”
Even Victoria’s greeting was ignored as Grey ran straight to Anne and reached out his hand.
But before he could touch her, Anne turned her body and evaded him.
“It’s me, Anne! Grey! Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me now that we’re grown?”
Of course she recognized him. How could she not?
Without even meeting his gaze, Anne spoke coldly.
“Welcome to Tegenes, Duke Benton.”
