Chapter 37
Kur looked straight at Mark and spoke slowly.
“I don’t know.”
His eyes didn’t waver, he didn’t shake his head or make any other movement. Still, Mark didn’t believe him.
“I’m sure I told you about it before, though?”
In the south of the Kingdom of Tiris there was an island of death — now a place that lost all life the moment a human set foot on it.
Mark thought this was caused by an S-rank mana stone going berserk. He had told Kur about it.
“There’s nothing there.”
“Did you go and look for yourself?”
“No need to go. There’s nothing.”
Kur frowned as if the topic made him uncomfortable and warned him.
“If you want to live, don’t try to suspect me lightly.”
Kur gathered his box and tried to leave the room. Mark put his hand on the box to stop him.
“I’m trying to treat you like a companion.”
Mark reached out his hand toward Kur.
Kur glanced down at Mark’s hand with a look of disgust. The word “companion” felt hateful to him.
“My personal feelings are mature enough to put aside.”
He kept that look and didn’t say it aloud.
Kur snorted inwardly. A faint hostility gleamed in Mark’s eyes.
“So you didn’t know there are people you shouldn’t fling your tongue at.”
A dangerous light flickered in Kur’s eyes for a moment. Mark instinctively flinched his shoulder.
“Do you think I want to play companion with you?”
Kur wasn’t sparing Mark’s life because he wanted to be friendly. He kept him alive only because Mark was a subordinate of Baberi.
If that weren’t the case, the moment their eyes met he would have crushed him.
“If you don’t want to die, don’t think of me as your companion.”
Kur threatened him, radiating killing intent. Mark shut his mouth and stared silently. There was no hint of fear in his expression.
Kur found this aspect of Mark unsettling.
‘The memory from Madni still hasn’t faded from my mind.’
In front of others Mark acted like he was afraid of the dragon. Especially around Baberi, he always behaved that way.
‘Don’t pick on hardworking Mark.’
Baberi scolded only Mark without knowing anything. It felt terribly unfair.
“His Majesty said it too. If you dislike peace, there’s nothing to be done.”
Mark sighed as if dealing with a troublesome kid.
Kur was incredulous. He was exercising an enormous amount of restraint — he could turn the place into a sea of flames in an instant.
“So now you’ll run to His Majesty and confess that I’m disturbing the peace.”
Kur sneered.
“The one who keeps bothering me plays the weak, pitiable act. It’s laughable.”
At Kur’s scathing words, one corner of Mark’s mouth twitched upward.
“You think you’re the only one?”
Jealousy flickered in Mark’s eyes.
He had deliberately withheld mana stones until now, because he couldn’t trust that a dragon wouldn’t betray him.
But that became useless once Baberi chose Martu — where the mana stone mines were.
Dragons are strategically vital. They needed to be prepared so he could move at any time. It was the correct choice.
Mark knew that, but he still felt uneasy about it.
Baberi never lifted a finger for someone she didn’t favor.
‘She’s exhausted and staggering — why would I drag her to the battlefield just because she looks pitiful?’
Yet Kur had gone to such trouble just because Baberi seemed weak.
“Is suffering from headaches due to lack of mana really such a big problem that it would stop Her Majesty’s revenge?”
Someone who would go to Tatara even single-handedly. As far as Mark knew, Baberi was the sort of woman who charged in headlong; he had personally been the one to break a sweat trying to stop her.
Yet Baberi had retreated from revenge of her own will.
‘All because of that monster who looks human.’
Mark stopped himself from saying more and shut his mouth. He, too, had a headache from jealousy.
Kur’s face, which had been watching Mark, hardened.
“You talk as if I’m the one blocking Baberi’s revenge.”
Mark answered with silence.
They glared at each other and stood in tense silence.
Kur’s sharpened senses picked up something approaching. He reached out and used magic to identify what was coming.
“St—st—st!”
The carrier bird that landed in his hand fluttered in a panic. But that only lasted a moment. When its eyes met Kur’s, it instinctively froze as if dead.
Kur took a small letter from the messenger and read it with his eyes. Then he gathered the box and the carrier bird and tried to leave the room.
Mark called after him.
“I manage all letters, including those carried by messenger birds.”
Kur paused and turned to look at him.
You do that too?
Surprise filled his face.
“Give it to me.”
Mark extended his hand. Kur glared at him for a moment, then turned his back.
“Don’t order me around.”
Mark opened his mouth to call him again, but Kur spat coldly and left the room. He followed the scent to find someone.
Kur flung the door open when he found the smell. Medo, who had been sitting at the desk writing, startled and flinched.
When Kur dropped the messenger bird he had been holding, the bird flew around the room.
“It’s a bird from your old master.”
Medo’s eyes, staring blankly at the scene, widened as if they might pop out.
Kur grabbed him roughly by the collar and brought his fist up to his nose.
“Look at this hand.”
Medo, bewildered, opened his eyes wide and obeyed.
“If I strike your head hard with this, you die.”
Medo swallowed. Cold sweat ran down his back because he knew Kur wasn’t bluffing.
“So answer me properly.”
Medo quickly nodded. He didn’t know why Kur had suddenly gone mad like this, but he tried to remain calm.
“Have you been colluding with Baslui?”
“Huh?”
Medo’s voice cracked although he was trying to stay composed. Kur slammed the letter that had been in his fist onto the table.
[Now that our misunderstandings have been cleared up, I will allow your reinstatement.]
“What misunderstanding did you clear up with Baslui?”
Kur pressed. Medo shook his head repeatedly with huge eyes.
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“You mean the reinstatement refers to your knighthood? Or did you get appointed commander of the order again?”
Kur tightened his grip around Medo’s neck and said quietly: speak if you don’t want to die.
“I don’t know what the lord is talking about! Please believe me!”
Medo cried out in grievance. Kur held his collar and searched his eyes for deceit.
“This is a trap. It’s his trick.”
Fear mixed with bewilderment, but it seemed true that Medo didn’t know.
“You still call Baslui ‘lord,’ huh.”
Medo felt as if he’d been struck in the head. The word escaped him unconsciously.
“Do you want to go back to Baslui?”
Kur pulled Medo’s collar closer and demanded.
“Did you beg Baslui to take you back, saying you’d give His Majesty’s head to him?”
“No!”
Medo shouted. He spoke with desperate eyes as if begging to be believed.
“I swore fealty to His Majesty.”
“And you swore the same to Baslui.”
Because he had been his knight.
Kur pressed further. Medo looked flustered but answered calmly.
“That oath was broken when he exiled me.”
“Isn’t it possible it still lingers in your heart?”
Medo slowly shook his head.
“Sir Kur, I will serve only His Majesty until my last breath.”
He wanted to be a knight. He needed a lord to be loyal to. It was a dream he had held onto even after many setbacks.
“His Majesty made that dream come true. Why would I betray him?”
Kur knew what Medo’s dream was. He knew Medo was grateful to Baberi because she had allowed him to become a knight.
But Baslui was offering him another chance — would that not unsettle Medo?
Kur lowered his fist and picked up the letter Medo had been writing.
If it were meant for Baslui, Kur would have killed him on the spot. But the recipient of the letter was Sharon.
[The expedition to Rondar is precarious. Yet I feel no fear.
Back in the mercenary days, my comrades used to say: if there’s a captain, somehow everything will be alright. I feel that way about Her Majesty lately.
She looks like a thug normally. Strangely, following her inspires trust that things will be fine…]
The letter cut off at the point where Kur had interrupted.
“Thug?”
Kur read the letter aloud and Medo held his breath. Then, with a cringing expression, Medo begged Kur.
“Please keep this from His Majesty. Otherwise I’ll be punished with beans again.”
Kur released the collar he’d been gripping. Medo quickly watched Kur’s face.
It seemed the misunderstanding was at least partly cleared. He looked much calmer.
“Consider yourself lucky I intercepted it before that bastard Mark saw it.”
If Mark had seen it, he would have immediately suspected Medo and told Baberi of his betrayal. He might even have had him dealt with on the spot.
Kur muttered his displeasure.
“For a mere subordinate, that flour-like fellow has accumulated too much power…”
Kur’s eyes narrowed. He had a strong feeling he couldn’t let this go on.
He didn’t seem to realize he himself was one of the lord’s retainers, nor that what he’d just done was precisely that.
“Be grateful for my mercy.”
Kur said in a terrifying face that had little to do with mercy. Medo licked his dry lips.
“Thank you…”
“So cooperate with me from now on.”
Kur ordered Medo, who was straightening his neck. Medo hesitated with a puzzled face.
“Can’t do it?”
“What… what do you intend to have me do?”
The idea of betraying His Majesty showed on Medo’s face. Kur lifted one side of his mouth.
“Don’t worry. In the long run, it will benefit His Majesty.”
“And in the short term…?”
“…it will be advantageous.”
The answer, delayed longer than before, sounded unconvincing.
“How noisy.”
Kur, looking annoyed, reached out and used magic to send the messenger bird that had been fluttering around the room out the window.
It was driven away because it made the place chaotic. But to Medo’s eyes it looked like Kur meant to throw it into the sea if it didn’t obey.
“What should I do?”
Medo decided to follow Kur’s will. He had been married less than a year and had Margaret to raise.
“You will take away that flour-like fellow’s pie.”
“Pie…?”
“No. Better to make him into a pie and tear him apart.”
Medo’s brow creased. He couldn’t make sense of what Kur was saying.
“Warning: if you try to take my pie, I’ll kill you.”
“It’ll be easier to step back and put it on his head than to mess with your pie,” Medo said, stiffly promising not to worry him.
