Chapter 2
Mille Village
It was a remote village barely clinging to the far edge of the Seraphium Empire.
Though isolated, the village had its own semblance of order.
Buildings covered with worn roofs, winding paths that hadn’t been paved, and the earth, frozen solid before sunrise and cracking crisply under the sun’s warmth.
At the center lay a small square.
Today, the square felt different from its usual desolate atmosphere.
Twenty children stood on the frozen ground, awaiting selection by the elite corps.
Their tattered clothes and hollow eyes seemed to reflect their harsh reality.
“Your Highness, the last child you saw just now was the final one.”
“…….”
At aide Riart’s words, Elbadin’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
It was neither disappointment nor anger.
It was simply the recognition that something, repeated for eight years, had ended once again.
“Let’s return.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As Elbadin rose from his seat, the village chief called out desperately.
“Y-Your Highness! Please, just one more time! There’s no way not a single child—!”
Inhaling sharply, the village chief froze.
Elbadin’s gaze from the platform bore down on him, a look that would not entertain any words.
As the chief staggered back, Elbadin finally turned away.
Riart followed him, casting a glance at the villagers gathered in the square.
Adults and children alike hung their heads, frozen in the imposing aura that emanated from Elbadin.
No matter how many good deeds the Ducal family performed, no matter how positive the rumors about them spread throughout the Empire, ordinary people could not withstand the presence of a man called a “slaughterer” on the battlefield.
Even trained knights struggle to endure Your Highness’s presence.
Riart examined the children once more, just in case.
Twenty children had gathered to be chosen by the elite corps.
But, as expected, none of them possessed special abilities.
After traveling all this way, the children were utterly ordinary.
As Riart sat across from Elbadin in the carriage, he spoke.
“It seems increasingly difficult to find children with latent abilities lately.”
“…….”
“Not that anyone else is likely intercepting them before us, either.”
“…….”
The carriage moved on. Elbadin looked out the window without replying.
Riart, handling a stack of thick documents, spoke while flipping through them.
“This expedition will have to conclude with this. The imperial schedule has been delayed, after all.”
“…….”
“As you know, it is soon Her Majesty the Empress’s birthday…”
Riart glanced at Elbadin, gauging his reaction, and continued.
“Are you certain you must attend this year? Last year, rumors spread because it was handled so carelessly.”
“Who fears such rumors?”
Riart grasped the papers in his hands and exclaimed.
I do! I am afraid! The idea that such rumors circulate about the Ducal family frightens me! Do you know how much manpower and time it takes to suppress even one rumor?
Hmph. Elbadin snorted lightly and stared out the window, unconcerned.
Riart, taking a deep breath to calm his own excitement, continued.
“Regardless, Your Highness, you must not miss this birthday. Understood?”
“…….”
“And in the southern region—”
Riart rattled off schedules and plans like a litany of complaints.
Finally, after flipping the last page, he placed the documents beside Elbadin and asked,
“Are you not tired?”
“Not particularly.”
“Still, perhaps you should rest until we arrive. It will take another half-day to reach the Southern Seventh Gate.”
“I’m fine.”
Elbadin continued to gaze out the window, ignoring Riart.
Riart’s eyes softened slightly at his composed exterior.
Calm on the surface, but surely not inside.
Others often said the elite corps strengthened the Ducal family’s power, that the Duke’s plan using the elite corps had been a great success.
On the surface, that’s true.
The Ducal family had discovered talented individuals hidden throughout the Empire through the elite corps.
Those individuals pledged loyalty to the Ducal family, and the family’s power was said to be stronger than ever before.
Yes, the elite corps’ system was undoubtedly a success…
Yet, Elbadin himself had never succeeded.
Because he had never found what he sought.
In truth, the ultimate goal of the elite corps had been something else entirely:
To find the bloodline of the Ducal family that had vanished eight years ago.
“…If it’s Radia, she would have hidden the child in a safe place. Even if it costs me my life.”
Elbadin believed it.
He believed that the Duchess had kept the child alive, and that finding the child would make her death meaningful. That belief had sustained him for eight long years.
But on days like today, when the search proved fruitless, a shadow inevitably fell across Elbadin’s face.
That was why Riart, normally talkative, remained silent.
Riart picked up the documents he had just closed and began reviewing them again.
For now, his silence would serve as comfort to Elbadin.
The carriage continued on toward the Southern Seventh Gate connecting to the North.
The Ducal family’s carriage halted in front of the gate for a brief pause, a chance to reorganize before passing through.
The sun, crossing the mountaintops, painted the sky in deep sunset hues.
“Please rest in the carriage, Your Highness. I will inform you when preparations are complete.”
“I’ve rested enough.”
Riart urged him to rest, but Elbadin insisted on dismounting.
The long journey seemed to have irritated him slightly.
Elbadin inhaled deeply, exhaled, and observed the elite corps knights preparing the carriage and equipment.
After a moment, Riart approached.
“It should take about an hour. The wind is cold, Your Highness. Perhaps you should wait in the carriage—”
“Wait.”
Elbadin raised his hand to stop Riart. His gaze was fixed on a particular wagon—a cargo wagon with a rounded cover.
“Your Highness, what is it?”
“……”
Without answering, Elbadin began walking toward the wagon.
Riart followed, puzzled.
The wagon seemed ordinary. Elbadin reached out and drew aside the canvas covering the entrance.
Inside, it was dark and silent.
Bundles of clothing were piled haphazardly on crates, half-folded blankets stacked to half the wagon’s height.
“Your Highness… what are you—ugh!”
Riart gagged and stepped back. The stench inside the wagon was strong, a collection of soiled laundry from the knights’ uniforms.
Elbadin stared quietly and spoke in a low voice.
“Come out.”
“…….”
“Eh? Who is there, Your Highness?”
Covering his nose, Riart looked again, but saw nothing beyond the piles of laundry.
Elbadin rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
If you don’t come out, I will cut you.
Tensing, Riart swallowed hard.
A silver blade slid partially from its scabbard.
The piled laundry twitched once.
“Ah!”
Startled, Riart drew his own sword.
“Who—!”
Before he could finish, a small brown head suddenly popped out from the laundry pile.
“Uh…?” Riart muttered in confusion as he met the child’s eyes in the dark.
A… child?
A young girl, with brown hair and brown eyes, common in appearance anywhere in the Empire.
It was strange.
Though facing large, sword-wielding men, she showed no fear in her eyes.
Instead, she seemed almost relieved.
After a brief silence, the child struggled out from the laundry pile and spoke softly.
“…Th-”
One by one, the elite corps knights gathered around the wagon.
The child glanced at the approaching knights, measuring her words carefully, and continued.
Hehe…
“Hello… Your Highness Duke?”
