Chapter 40 : The Road to the Kingdom (2)

The Saintess Jeanne

Jeanne was, in truth, a deeply peculiar figure in the Kingdom. 

While she now shared Wolfgang’s striking white hair, she had originally appeared with ominous black hair—a trait that led to her initial ostracism as a cursed being.

At the time, it was Lana Frost who extended her a helping hand, though the end of their story was nothing short of tragic. 

Perhaps the label of a “cursed one” wasn’t entirely wrong after all.

Theodore understood that their actions would send shockwaves through the Kingdom. 

He wasn’t naive about the consequences. 

Yet, he stood firmly by Wolfgang’s side, driven by the need for justice and retribution.

‘At the very least, revenge is due.

That might ease the bitterness a little.

Even if she doesn’t remember the past.’

The initial plan was straightforward: quickly eliminate the Saintess and return to the Empire. 

Wolfgang harbored no intention of reclaiming her identity as Lana Frost. 

Her objective was purely to secure a peaceful future by removing potential threats in advance.

Wolfgang was confident the Saintess and the Kingdom wouldn’t leave her be. 

A villainess they had exiled had risen as a war hero in the Empire. 

How could they sleep soundly knowing that? 

After all, guilty consciences tend to create paranoia.

Even with the logic of “putting oneself in another’s shoes,” the answer was clear: they wouldn’t. 

This was why Wolfgang decided to personally step into the Kingdom—subterfuge wasn’t her style.

However, as the journey to the Kingdom was long, she sought Theodore’s insights to understand her enemy better. 

This prompted a shift in her original plan.

“Let me get to the point. No matter how strong you are, you won’t be able to kill the current Saintess,” Theodore said gravely.

“Are you saying I lack the strength?” Wolfgang replied with a raised brow.

“No, your strength is more than sufficient. What I mean is something entirely different.”

In terms of sheer power, Theodore acknowledged that Jeanne was no match for Wolfgang. 

However, the Saintess possessed a unique trait that defied conventional definitions of strength.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Exactly what I said. Have you ever wondered why she takes such extraordinary risks despite her position?”

Theodore’s words were enough to shift Wolfgang’s perspective. 

Jeanne’s actions, in hindsight, did seem unusually bold for someone in her role. Or rather, “bold” might be too kind—reckless was more accurate.

For example, Jeanne had attended a Blood Pact meeting without a single guard. 

True, no one would dare draw a weapon at such a gathering, not even orcs. 

But to attend completely unguarded was a level of irresponsibility that defied belief. 

It was akin to a president traveling abroad without security detail.

This realization gave Wolfgang a hint.

‘Could she have something she’s relying on?’

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” Theodore said, noticing her expression.

“How can she act so fearlessly?”

“The answer is simple: she’s untouchable.”

If Theodore was the Kingdom’s greatest sword, then Jeanne was its greatest shield. 

No threat to the Kingdom had ever been able to harm her.

“Of course, with your power, you might be able to break through her defenses and hurt her. But if you fail, Jeanne will use her near-absolute authority to hound you relentlessly.”

“That would be as good as losing,” Wolfgang admitted.

“Exactly. No matter how strong you are, you’re still human. 

Eventually, you’ll tire. It’s best to avoid unnecessary risks.”

Wolfgang began calculating her options. 

In truth, she doubted it would come to that. 

She could retreat to the Empire before reaching the point of exhaustion. 

However, doing so would diminish the purpose of her journey under the name of Lana Frost. 

Observing first seemed like the only viable approach.

“You’re right. Ten years is a long time.”

While the Empire had struggled through the Winter War, the Kingdom had faced its own trials. 

Jeanne’s rise to power had been cemented by her victories during these hardships.

***

Suddenly, there was a sharp tapping at the carriage window. 

Wolfgang turned her head and nearly screamed. 

Jackal was hanging upside down outside the window like a ghost.

“…What is it?” Wolfgang asked, steadying her startled heart as she opened the window.

Jackal’s wide grin stretched across his face as he said, “There’s a bunch of tasty things up ahead!”

“Tasty things?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Theodore cut in, his tone firm. “You’ll regret knowing.”

Jackal’s “tasty things” were, of course, humans. 

The Vendetta Legion had spent years together and had grown used to his peculiar habits, but others were not so understanding.

“How many of these ‘tasty things’ are there? Are they armed?” Wolfgang asked.

“They’re all armed. Looks like they’re guarding the road.”

“Let’s hope they’re just bandits.”

From Jackal’s behavior, it was clear his hunger was becoming unbearable. 

Though he only targeted criminals or condemned prisoners, his predatory instincts still marked him as a transgression of natural order.

Even among the Vendetta Legion, Jackal rarely referred to humans as food, especially in front of others. 

Yet, with Theodore present, he openly used the term—a clear sign of his growing hunger.

‘Does that boy really eat people?’

“Yes, but don’t worry,” Wolfgang answered nonchalantly. “We’ve packed plenty of human meat for him.”

Theodore could only gape in silent horror. It wasn’t just that Jackal ate humans—it was that 

Wolfgang had prepared provisions for him as if this were completely normal. 

He refrained from voicing his shock, knowing this wasn’t the right time to press for answers.

‘What kind of hell did you witness during the Winter War?’ Theodore wondered.

No matter how horrifying the truth, Theodore resolved to stand by his sister. 

Even if the entire world turned its back on her, he would not.

Meanwhile, in a pristine white library, Jeanne sat alone, her white hair blending seamlessly with the marble as she read. 

Her tranquil solitude was broken by a knight bursting through the door.

“Saintess! The Royal Guard has located Lord Frost!”

“I see. Let’s go at once,” Jeanne replied, her golden eyes gleaming.

“I’ll escort you.”

Jeanne turned to the knight and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Sir Maren. It’s reassuring to have you by my side.”

The knight flushed with pride at her acknowledgment. “It is my honor to serve you, Saintess!”

“How could I ever forget those who serve the Kingdom? I am always grateful.”

As the knight basked in her praise, Jeanne’s mind turned elsewhere. 

He had been found far sooner and in a place she hadn’t expected. Why now?

“Oh, by the way,” Maren added hesitantly, “reports indicate that the Imperial hero Wolfgang Leonhart is accompanying the traitor.”

“Wolfgang Leonhart? The Empire’s war hero?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Jeanne’s expression clouded as she recalled what Prince Jaiha had told her: Lana Frost—no, Wolfgang Leonhart—had supposedly lost all memories of her past.

It seemed unbelievable. Not only had Lana Frost survived the Winter War, but she had also become a revered hero in the Empire.

‘…Could she be like me?’

The thought crossed her mind briefly before she dismissed it. Of all possibilities, that was the least likely. 

If she were the same as Jeanne, Jeanne would have noticed during their encounter at the Blood Pact.

‘It doesn’t matter. In the end, I will win.’

Jeanne acknowledged that her plans had begun to falter since the Blood Pact, but the core of her strategy remained intact. 

She only needed to adjust her approach.

‘To breach an impenetrable fortress, one must infiltrate its heart. And for that, I’ve already chosen the perfect pawn.’

Her golden eyes gleamed with conviction.

‘Jackal. I’ll start with him.’