Chapter 04
Albert Federka, the First Prince of the Bertel Empire.
He had been Ariletti’s first master.
A piece of trash who had sucked her dry of every last drop of usefulness and then thrown her away without hesitation.
“They seem to have targeted the route the Young Lord would take back to the territory! Orders are for everyone at the inn to prepare immediately and cross Gringen Gorge!”
“Where is the Young Lord right now?!”
“He’s shaking off the pursuers with Sir Tombel! He says he’ll lure the enemy as far from the entrance of Gringen Gorge as possible, so we’re to load the supplies and cross the bridge first. He’ll follow right behind!”
“Damn it all!”
Dunken yanked the tablecloth clean off the table. He wrapped Ariletti up in it like a bundle and tied the ends behind his neck. Instantly, she was slung against him like a cicada clinging to an old tree.
Huh? I guess I’m coming along too!
“Roel, protect Doctor Sergio! Tanesa, take the gold chest and run in the center! Full speed to Gringen Gorge!”
Gold chest? What gold chest?
The knights who had been lounging around just moments ago sprang into action like lightning.
As Dunken led the charge out of the cabin, Ariletti caught sight of Glen Hezeit battling enemies in the distance.
Even in the middle of chaos, her mouth fell open.
A transparent, pure sword aura embroidered the snowfield with breathtaking brilliance.
‘Beautiful….’
The black-haired young man wielded his massive greatsword as lightly as a pen, cutting down his enemies. Blood sprayed into the air and scattered across the white snow.
Glen Hezeit wiped a streak of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand and glanced their way.
Ah. Our eyes met.
Ariletti stiffened.
The corners of his eyes curved faintly.
Did he just… smile at me?
“Wrap her up tighter, Sir. The baby shouldn’t see something so brutal.”
Though he stood quite far away, Glen’s voice rang clear.
Ariletti sensed the aura woven into his words. At this point in time, he had either already reached the rank of Sword Master—or was right on the verge of it.
“Even if we have to abandon the supplies, no one gets left behind. Understood?”
“Abandon the supplies, Young Lord?! If we throw these away, our people will starve to death! We can’t give up either!”
Dunken’s booming reply echoed as he lashed his horse with the whip.
A vicious blade of wind soon began striking the back of Ariletti’s head.
When she came to her senses, she and Dunken were racing across a snow-covered wasteland at the head of the group.
Judging by their seamless coordination, this wasn’t their first ambush.
Well, of course. The knights of Hezeit were rangers hardened by brutal climates and harsh environments.
Formidable military strength.
That was the true power of House Hezeit.
It was also why, in her previous life, Ariletti had never stopped being wary of them.
But something’s strange.
‘This is at least ten years earlier than when I began seriously keeping the Hezeit family in check. And if I’m five right now, that means Albert’s still just a brat too.’
There was a seven-year age gap between them. Albert would be only twelve at this point.
True, he was cunning and sly—but it was hard to believe a twelve-year-old had personally mobilized imperial troops for an ambush like this.
Which meant there was someone else behind it.
‘The Empress.’
Laureline Federka—Albert’s birth mother and the Empress of the Bertel Empire.
In her first life, when Ariletti served as Albert’s strategist, the Empress had been the person she found most difficult to deal with.
The Empress had regarded Ariletti—who enjoyed Albert’s favor—as a thorn in her side. The conversation between mother and son that Ariletti had overheard when they visited her in prison resurfaced vividly in her mind.
“We’ll soon have Aril’s surrender, Mother. I’ve already shortlisted candidates to inherit the Sage’s power. You may put aside your unnecessary suspicions now.”
“You’ve made the right decision, Your Majesty. How could such a vile and lowborn wench ever be fit to become Empress of Bertel? Now that you’ve corrected your mistake, this mother can finally rest easy.”
“…I want to kill them. I really do.”
“Cold, little one?”
Still whipping the horse forward, Dunken removed his fur beret and pulled it snug over Ariletti’s head.
“Hang in there a bit longer. Once we cross Gringen Bridge, the northern territory will open up.”
It had the opposite effect.
As warmth spread over her scalp, heat surged up inside her.
Until she surrendered the Sage’s power, Empress Laureline and Albert—wrapped in her skirts—had tortured Ariletti mercilessly.
“Please, spare me… Your Highness… Your Highness, ngh—!”
“Stop being stubborn, Ariletti. Do you really want to part from me in a state unfit to even be called human?”
I want to slice his throat open.
I want to slap that smug face until it bursts.
Human trash. Filth. Not even worthy of being compared to garbage.
“You bastard…”
“Huh? That sounded pretty accurate just now.”
Dunken looked down at her with an odd expression.
With his hat gone, his brown hair was frosting over in the cutting wind.
Ariletti turned her gaze forward.
Gringen Gorge. A familiar name.
“Mister, we can’t go that way.”
“What?”
“We’re going to cross Gringen Bridge, right? We can’t. There’ll already be soldiers lying in ambush.”
When she’d worked as Albert’s strategist, she had devised countless schemes to restrain House Hezeit.
Though this was much earlier than her prime, there was something Albert had once said while discussing a Hezeit suppression plan.
“Is there no bridge at Gringen Gorge? We could lure them there, isolate them, and then destroy the bridge.”
“They won’t fall for it. Long ago, they were ambushed at Gringen Gorge by Lord Bodafeti.”
“So it’s a tactic that’s already been used once.”
“Exactly. Their vice-captain—his left hand—died then. Glen Hezeit himself nearly fell to his death but survived by a miracle. They’re not fools who’d fall for the same trap twice.”
She realized it instantly.
‘That “long ago” ambush… it’s today. It was the Empress’s scheme.’
If Sir Tombel and Glen Hezeit survived while Vice-Captain Dunken died, that meant the group reaching the gorge first—this group—would be wiped out.
Ariletti stared up at Doris Dunken.
The fur hat he’d given her was warm. The cloth wrapping her snugly against him. Even the sesame bread Tanesa had pressed into her hands earlier.
They were all warm.
And warmth was something she shouldn’t trust.
“There’ll be soldiers in ambush… Where did you even learn to say something like that?”
“…”
“There, there. Don’t worry, little Sage. Mister will protect you.”
Even as he cooed in a childish tone, Dunken’s eyes scanned their surroundings sharply.
You fool. With eyes like that, why are you still running toward your death?
No one would believe the ramblings of a five-year-old. That left her only one choice.
‘Needle.’
From the gap in the cloth wrapped around her, something long and skewer-like slipped out.
One end sharp, the other rounded and ornate—a splendid needle.
A conceptual being visible only to Ariletti shrieked irritably.
—Why’re you calling me?!
‘I have a favor.’
—A favor? What favor—huh?
Three needles trembled in midair, then froze.
The angry voice immediately softened.
—Not an order? Since when are you so niiiice, asking for a faaaavor, Master?
Her companion needles were exceedingly simple creatures.
Ariletti jerked her chin toward the galloping horse.
‘You know the thing you’re good at. Do that.’
—Just that? Then you won’t kill me?
…I’ll think about that later.
Encouraged enough, the needle zipped through the air. Using the blunt end, it smacked the horse hard on its right flank.
Smack!
Neighhh!
Startled, the horse reared, flailing.
“Whoa—?! What’s gotten into you?!”
Dunken yanked on the reins.
The horse, struck several more times by the gleefully dancing needle, jerked its head sharply to the left and veered off course.
That’s it. Good job!
“Sir Dunken? What are you doing—where are you going?!”
“How should I know?! Damn it! You lot at least hurry to Gringen—!”
Not happening.
Two more needles shot toward Tanesa and Roel, smacking their horses from either side.
Smack smack smack smack!
‘That’s my needle!’
The horses turned in unison.
Their route shifted west in an instant. The faint outline of Gringen Bridge in the distance angled farther and farther away.
Dunken cried out in despair.
“No! At this rate we won’t be able to cross the gorge—!”
No, mister. You’re going to cross that bridge safely and reach the north.
Avoiding a trap isn’t always the solution. Sometimes, you charge at full speed and leap right over it.
And as long as I’m here, the odds of success increase exponentially.
Ariletti grabbed Dunken’s scarf and shouted brightly,
“Run, mister! We’re circling back to hit them from the rear!”
