The Forgotten Field

“What’s this supposed to mean?”

Varkas asked in a puzzled voice. The man tilted his head and pointed his thumb at the embroidery sewn onto the surface of the pouch.

“Your Grace, that’s something Her Highness the Grand Duchess made.”

Blinking blankly, Varkas lowered his gaze to his waist once more.

The leather water pouch, reinforced with fine silk, was covered in an intricate pattern woven from tiny beads and brilliantly colored threads. The craftsmanship was far too refined for someone who had only recently taken up embroidery as a hobby.

He shot Edrick a skeptical look.

“She made this?”

“Without a doubt. I watched Her Highness working on it for months.”

The certainty in his voice left Varkas visibly bewildered.

“Then why is something she made in my possession?”

“How should I know that?”

Edrick Rubon frowned as though the question itself were absurd.

Varkas recalled the day she had come to his room before he departed for the campaign. Had she slipped it among his belongings back then?

But why?

He unfastened the water pouch that he had carried around without a second thought and stared at it as though he were seeing it for the very first time.

Golden threads formed a dense pattern of intertwining vines, framing the black horse emblem like a radiant halo. As Varkas traced the tight rows of stitching with his fingertips, he suddenly felt his throat constrict, forcing him to swallow.

What had she been thinking when she made this?

And why had she given it to me?

“When someone is leaving on a long journey, giving them something you’ve made yourself usually means you want them to return safely.”

As though he had read Varkas’s thoughts, Edrick Rubon casually spoke.

Varkas looked up at him again. Scratching the back of his head, the knight let out a quiet sigh before adding,

“When you return this time, ask Her Highness yourself why she gave it to you...”

There was something meaningful in his tone that made Varkas’s stomach churn.

Suppressing the feeling with a slow, deep breath, he fastened the pouch back onto his belt and tied the leather cord tightly around it.

Stop entertaining pointless hopes.

It was probably nothing more than one of her whims.

How many times had he already been tossed around by that woman’s impossible-to-predict behavior?

He had no intention of acting like a fool again, allowing every one of her actions to sway his emotions.

Rising to his feet with a hardened expression, Varkas gestured toward the rocks ahead.

“If you’ve rested enough, we’re moving. We don’t have time to waste.”

Edrick Rubon groaned under his breath.

Ignoring him completely, Varkas resumed walking along the mountain trail.

Yet his mind remained consumed entirely by thoughts of her.

Just what does that woman want from me?

She cursed me, saying she’d never forgive me as long as she lived...

And then, without warning, she gave me a gift I never could have expected.

He wanted to ask her.

What exactly are you trying to do with me?

What am I to you?

“My lord, going any closer looks dangerous.”

Regen’s quiet warning snapped Varkas out of his thoughts.

Stopping immediately, he fixed his gaze ahead.

Without realizing it, they had already closed to a distance where the windows of the keep were visible from outside.

Steadying his wandering mind, Varkas concealed himself behind a boulder and carefully studied the massive fortress.

Now wasn’t the time to indulge in useless thoughts.

Keeping himself hidden as the shadows deepened, he slipped between densely packed trees and jagged rocks until he reached the rear of the fortress walls.

Beyond the towering cliff stood the high battlements, complete with watchtowers and a broad patrol walkway.

“My lord, haven’t we gathered enough information? Wouldn’t it be wiser to withdraw now...?”

“From here on, we’ll split up.”

Ignoring his subordinate’s objection, Varkas withdrew two parchment documents from inside his coat.

He handed them to the fastest runners among the warriors gathered along the steep slope and calmly continued issuing orders.

“One goes to Daren. The other to the commander of the flanking force waiting in the north. The rest of you will divide into two squads and lie in wait near the front and rear gates.”

“You mean...”

“Labomir, Trian, Edmond, and...”

Unfazed by the anxious reactions around him, Varkas continued calling names before finally pointing at Edrick.

“The four of you will follow me.”

“You can’t possibly... intend to infiltrate the fortress?”

The man who had remained silent until now finally spoke, his voice tight with tension.

Varkas nodded calmly.

“I’ve already memorized the patrol routes. We’ll wait until nightfall, slip inside, and open the gates. Once you receive the signal, launch the assault immediately.”

“It’s far too reckless! Leave that to us and return to the main force instead!”

“Keep your voice down.”

Startled by the rebuke, Regen immediately fell silent.

Varkas added coldly,

“That wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. I will hear no objections.”

“But there’s no reason for you personally to take such a risk—”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Cutting him off without hesitation, Varkas continued evenly,

“The detached force has already received its orders. The operation will proceed as planned. Move without delay.”

Intimidated by his icy demeanor, the men exchanged uneasy glances before dispersing in perfect order.

Watching his soldiers carry out his commands with swift precision, Varkas soon led the infiltration team toward the mountain ridge, now stained crimson beneath the setting sun.

Not long afterward, thick darkness swallowed the mountainside.

Following the route he had memorized beforehand, he moved with practiced agility while carefully observing the dim lights flickering atop the fortress walls.

Soldiers carrying torches were patrolling at regular intervals.

Pulling his hood low over his face, he cautiously approached the outer wall.

Before long, the immense stone wall completely filled his vision.

“I’ll go up first and eliminate the sentry.”

“Wait! I’ll do it!”

Edrick Rubon hurriedly grabbed his arm.

Shaking him off with obvious annoyance, Varkas unslung the crossbow from his back and loaded an iron bolt attached to a rope.

After winding the mechanism until the string was stretched to its limit, he aimed toward the highest point of the wall.

With a sharp crack like a whip slicing through the air, the bolt disappeared into the darkness.

Gripping the rope tightly, Varkas waited.

Moments later, it went taut.

The hook had caught securely on the battlements.

After testing its strength with several hard tugs, he lightly struck the wall with the serrated toe of his boot.

Then, wrapping both hands firmly around the rope, he began climbing the wall with astonishing speed.

Scaling all eighty crevets—roughly twenty-four meters—took only a matter of minutes.

Vaulting silently over the battlements, Varkas approached the sentry from behind.

Clamping one hand over the man’s mouth, he immediately drew the concealed dagger hidden inside his wrist guard and drove it into the back of the soldier’s neck.

Twisting the blade sideways to tear the wound open, he unleashed a fountain of hot blood.

He wrenched the soldier’s head sharply to one side, accelerating the bleeding.

The guard convulsed weakly, choking out muffled gasps before his body finally went limp.

Only after confirming the man’s breathing had completely stopped did Varkas drag the corpse beneath the tower and shove it into a corner.

Returning to the battlements, he inspected the hook once more.

It was firmly wedged between the stone blocks.

Giving it a hard kick to secure it even further, he signaled to those below.

One by one, the soldiers climbed the wall.

“Judging by the fortress layout, the mechanisms controlling the drawbridge and portcullis are most likely inside [N O V E L I G H T] the southern gate tower. Split into pairs, eliminate the nearby guards, and secure the route in.”

“And what will you do, my lord?”

Edrick Rubon asked suspiciously.

After retrieving the hook and rope and stowing them inside his equipment case, Varkas answered calmly,

“I’m going to find His Highness the Crown Prince.”

Just as he stepped toward the entrance leading into the tower, Edrick suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“I thought you’d abandoned His Highness.”

“There is someone within the Imperial Guard who assisted in His Highness’s kidnapping.”

Even in the darkness, Varkas could clearly see Edrick Rubon’s eyes widen in shock.

Brushing his hand away with irritation, Varkas added quietly,

“It was more advantageous for the rescue if everyone believed I’d abandoned him.”

“Then let me help rescue His Highness as well—!”

“I can handle it alone.”

Varkas cut him off mercilessly.

“This is a personal matter. You will follow my orders and concentrate on taking the gates.”

“A personal matter...? How could rescuing His Highness possibly be—”

Leaving Edrick Rubon behind before he could finish, Varkas headed toward the watchtower.

Perhaps he had finally given up, because Edrick made no further attempt to stop him.

Passing through the door connected to the building, Varkas immediately descended the stairs.

Halfway down, he noticed light rising from below and flattened himself against the wall.

A drowsy-looking soldier, evidently just awakened for his shift, was slowly climbing the stairs.

Hidden in the deep shadows, Varkas waited until the man entered striking distance.

The soldier muttered to himself in a thick northern dialect as he finally reached the level connected to the battlements.

Varkas moved instantly.

Seizing the soldier, he rammed the dagger straight into his mouth.

A brief muffled groan escaped the man’s throat.

Covering his face with the folds of his robe to muffle any sound, Varkas drove the blade even deeper.

The dagger pierced through the soldier’s throat and punched into his spine.

Unable to utter a proper scream, the man’s knees buckled before he collapsed onto the floor.

After a brief moment of consideration, Varkas shoved the body between the supply crates stacked beneath the stairs.

It wasn’t a particularly convincing hiding place, but there was no time to spend concealing the corpse more carefully.

Pulling the mechanism on his wrist guard, he retracted the blade before slipping silently out of the tower.

Prisoners of high rank were usually confined in the highest part of the keep.

From what he had observed outside, the passage leading into the keep was located on the southeastern side.

A frontal assault carried too much risk.

There should be a servants’ entrance somewhere near the kitchens or the loading yard.

Finding an infiltration route behind the buildings would be the wiser choice.

Having reached his conclusion in an instant, Varkas immediately began moving along the outer perimeter of the fortress walls.