Count Sandui.

A knight who rose from a serf to the level of an upper-tier Sword Expert.
The Empire might have them in abundance, but in a kingdom starved of talent, he was one of only five elite knights.

Thanks to that, a man who had once been nothing more than an ordinary serf was not only granted the title of count,
but also grew into a border lord entrusted with managing the kingdom’s eastern region.

Simply put, he served as a bridge between the royal family and the eastern nobles.

It was similar to the military.

Just as an ordinary soldier going straight to a regimental or divisional commander would be a problem.

Eastern rural nobles faced many restrictions even when trying to approach the king directly.

So instead, they sought out Count Sandui,
and even paid their taxes to him on the king’s behalf.

In name and in fact, the noble who ruled the East was Count Sandui.

Why am I speaking in the past tense?

The answer is simple.
Count Sandui is no longer among the living.

A jet-black greatsword far too massive for a human was embedded in the ground.

And at the opposite end, on the hilt of that greatsword, there was something else.

It was a human head.

The head impaled on the greatsword was blatantly displayed at the castle gate, as if for all to see.

Displaying severed heads in war was nothing unusual.

The problem was that the head belonged not to a criminal, but to Count Sandui himself.

"My lord, that head is…?"

"……"

I had never seen the count in person.
Even so, I could be certain.

That head belonged to Count Sandui.
Otherwise, there was no reason for it to be displayed like that.

I never imagined that the first thing I would see upon setting foot in the county would be Count Sandui’s head.

"I am Thomas, the captain of the guard overseeing this castle’s defenses.
For what purpose have you come here?"

"I am Cain Blackguard, lord of the House of Blackguard.
We are refugees fleeing the Imperial Army."

"…Proof?"

"This is the land deed proving I am the lord of Blackguard territory.
It bears the royal seal."

"May I examine it briefly?"

The once-imperious tone immediately softened.
No matter how rural the borderlands were, a noble was still a noble.

At the very least, my rank was higher than that of a guard captain.

Without complaint, I handed over the land deed I had prepared in advance.

After a cursory inspection, Thomas nodded and returned it to me.

"I have confirmed it.
Please forgive my earlier rudeness."

"Can you read?"

"I regret to say I cannot read, but I verified the seal clearly."

"…How did Count Sandui end up like that?"

The ideal choice would have been to turn around and flee the moment I saw the severed head.

But that was no longer an option.

Our food was scarce, the refugees were exhausted, and most importantly… there was nowhere to go back to.

Captain Thomas, still guarding the gate, had clearly been one of the count’s men.

Because of that, I believed that if nothing else, I could hear the truth from him.

He did not betray that trust.
Thomas let out a deep sigh and forced his reluctant mouth to open.

"What reason would I have to hide anything?"

"Explain everything from the beginning."

"The count willingly accepted nobles and civilians who fled from the Empire."

From Thomas’s account, the count had been a stubborn man.

Put kindly, he was someone who upheld duty.
Put poorly, he was an old-fashioned hardliner.

But at the very least, he was never a coward who bowed before the strong.

"The count wished to fight to the very end for the sake of the kingdom and His Majesty.
But then… those b*stards…!!"

"I understand it’s hard to explain.
But you must speak clearly.
That is the only way to ensure the count’s death was not in vain."

"My apologies.
I let my emotions get the better of me."

The way the veins bulged in his neck as he ground his teeth was unsettling.

And as expected, the fall of the county concealed a truly ugly truth.

"Some of the nobles the count had taken in secretly opened the gates at night and welcomed the Imperial Army."

"Betrayal?
All of the eastern nobles?"

"Not all of them.
The nobles who followed the count to the end either died fighting alongside him… or are imprisoned."

"……"

"Honestly… I no longer know what is right or wrong.
Weren’t nobles supposed to be nobles because they were noble and honorable?"

Rage surged up to his throat.
Yet the words he finally forced out were heavy with bitterness.

I could not bring myself to answer him.

In the end, we had no choice but to settle near the county.
There was nowhere else to go.

More than anything, the refugees’ condition was dire.
They had not rested properly for an entire month.

And at the end, they had even been forced to march through a torrential downpour.
Every single one of them looked utterly exhausted.

Reality and ideals.

I had never felt the gap between them so clearly in my life.
D*mn it.

Honestly, I don’t think surrender itself is evil.
Wanting to live is not a sin.

‘The problem is that this d*mn defeat regression clearly won’t just sit back and watch.’

At first, even I had tried to surrender in the face of overwhelming force.
I had no choice.

Otherwise, I would die.
Later, I even tried to run away.
All of it ended in failure.

Does someone like me really have the right to condemn those who opened the gates at night?

‘I don’t know.
I’ll think about these headache-inducing problems later.
For now, focus on the present.’

The place I chose was a charcoal burner’s worksite in a forest not far from the county.

Charcoal production required kilns and water, so there was a stream nearby.

There were also tools and firewood left behind by charcoal burners who had fled.
For now, it was enough to survive.

"How are the residents?"

"They seem better now that they’re warming themselves by the fire.
But the food issue…"

"It can’t be helped.
Permit hunting.
Any animals you see, hunt them all and use them as food."

"What?
But poaching is punishable by hanging, isn’t it?"

"I’ll take full responsibility."

Even in modern times it’s a crime, but in the Middle Ages, poaching was a grave offense that could lead to execution.

But so what.
We were on the brink of starvation.
Hanging?
If they can, let them try.

Of course, that was after dealing with the Imperial Army occupying the kingdom.

"Are there any residents who can still wield weapons?"

"Yes, there are some."

"Then select twenty more.
They don’t need to fight.
Just have them carry weapons and stand watch around the area."

"Understood."

Before, I had conscripted up to a hundred people, regardless of age, just to inflate our numbers.

This time, there was no need for that.

Just having someone take over watch duty so the soldiers could rest was enough.

Of course, it wasn’t unpaid.
Those who volunteered for this duty would receive slightly more food.

Thankfully, we caught some fish in the stream, and those who went hunting brought back a fair amount of game.

It wasn’t abundant, but under the circumstances, it felt like rain in a drought.

As everyone carried out their tasks, the sun set quickly, and another cold night arrived.

"Mom, why aren’t we going into the castle?"

"Because bad people have taken over that castle.
But don’t worry.
Our lord will find a way."

"……"

Just in case, I was personally making patrols when I overheard something interesting.

The reason I didn’t enter the castle had nothing to do with loyalty or obligation to Count Sandui.

It was just a bad feeling.
A sense that if I entered that castle, something would definitely go wrong.

‘The Imperial Army that seized the castle must still be stationed inside.
Going in would be no different from suicide.’

To those who see me as a heroic champion of the kingdom, I’m truly sorry.

My own survival comes first.
I don’t want to experience that kind of horrific pain ever again.

…Still, as difficult as it had been, seeing the residents alive like this made me feel.

‘Not that bad.’

I never want to do this again, but still, the first night passed without incident.

However, the unexpected arrived far sooner than I thought.
The very next day.

Early in the morning, someone was sent from the castle.
With a letter bearing the count’s seal, no less.

[Lord of Blackguard, I have long heard of your martial prowess.
There is a matter I wish to discuss with you in private.
Would you please come to the castle?]

"……"

The familiar scent of death wafting from that letter couldn’t possibly be my imagination.

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