Ch.167Chapter 167

The long war ended with Dencan’s death.

There were no survivors of the clan. No one surrendered, corrupted by the madness planted in their bloodline over many generations.

Ironically, their ancestor had begged pathetically for his life when he wanted to survive.

Wendigo, respecting Dencan’s final decision to sacrifice himself to save his friend, ordered that the clan’s bodies be collected.

The wolves drooled with disappointment at not being able to feast, but tucked their tails when Oneton glared at them sternly.

Most of the bodies would be cremated.

It would be difficult to bury hundreds of corpses at once, and the summoners objected because negative energy could easily gather.

So while a grand cremation ceremony was held to honor the fallen warriors…

Wendigo climbed a hill near the castle with Dario. On his shoulder was a coffin made of ice.

Wendigo looked at the three apple trees growing on the hilltop.

The apple trees looked very healthy, as if they had been well cared for. He put down the coffin and asked Dario.

“Do you really want to bury him here?”

“Yes. It’s where we planted trees together as children. Well… it’s a place where we made many memories together.”

Dario tapped the coffin and snickered. It was a place he had forgotten as they went their separate ways, but it seemed Dencan couldn’t easily let go of the place of memories.

Dario picked an apple from the tree and tossed it to Wendigo.

Wendigo popped five or six apples into his mouth. The cool, clean taste of the apples was quite excellent.

“Delicious.”

“He was surprisingly serious about these apple trees. We used to eat apples together while studying swordsmanship and academics… I wondered why we did it on his relative’s estate rather than his own.”

Tasting apples after a long time, Dario took a few bites before throwing the apple far away. He took out a shovel he had gotten from the castle and began digging under the shade of the apple tree.

Wendigo watched him and said:

“I think it would be faster and easier if I just dug it.”

“…What servant in the world would ask a king to shovel for him?”

Dario responded incredulously. It was already embarrassing enough to have help carrying the coffin, how could he ask him to dig as well?

Above all, Dario thought it was right that he should dig the grave himself.

“He was my friend… and even though it wasn’t intentional, I share responsibility for his death. I think it’s only right that I dig.”

Wendigo silently nodded, respecting Dario’s opinion. He was rather impressed, considering how this man usually relied on tricks.

Sitting under the tree’s shade, Wendigo watched Dario shoveling.

As a gentle breeze blew, it felt like a lie that they had been at war until just recently.

Wendigo picked apples from the tree with his fingernail and asked Dario a question while eating them.

“When you return, will you confess to Elhemina?”

“…What?!”

As if it were such an extraordinary question, Dario, who had been quietly digging, was startled and his hand slipped.

Wendigo pointed at the coffin as if it were obvious and said:

“When I asked this fellow before he died if he had a woman he liked, he said there was one, so who else could it be besides Elhemina?”

“That’s…”

Glance.

Dario was about to make an excuse out of habit but closed his mouth when he looked at Dencan’s coffin. He wasn’t shameless enough to lie in front of the deceased.

Besides, how could he do that in front of a friend who had wished him happiness in his final moments?

Dario sighed deeply and pushed the shovel deeper.

“Yes. I’m thinking of confessing to her soon. Well… I don’t know if she’ll accept me though.”

“Didn’t you receive a gift from her last time?”

Wendigo tilted his head, recalling that Elhemina had given him medicinal herbs as a gift.

Wendigo, who enjoyed learning about the customs of different regions and tribes by calling merchants and scholars whenever he had time, roughly knew the meaning of the herbs Elhemina had given.

Dario scratched his head and lamented:

“Yes. I received precious herbs. The problem is that my horse ate them, not me.”

“…You fed them to your horse?”

Wendigo was so dumbfounded that he stopped chewing the apple and asked again. Dario nodded and began making excuses.

But Wendigo clicked his tongue and shook his head.

‘How can someone so smart be so dense in these matters…’

“Your Majesty, are you listening?”

“Yes. You’re doing a fine job explaining how you kicked away the fortune that rolled to you.”

Wendigo looked at Dario as if he were pathetic.

Dario couldn’t read Wendigo’s expression, but he understood the meaning in his gaze from his tone. He felt genuinely wronged.

Who could have imagined such herbs were so significant?

“If I had known they were such good herbs, I would have stuffed them in my mouth even if it killed me.”

“It’s not about the medicinal effects, but what comes after that matters, and you’re hopeless for not knowing that.”

Wendigo briefly considered telling him the meaning behind the herbs but decided against it.

Even without knowing the meaning of the herbs, Dario clearly liked Elhemina enough to confess anyway…

‘Somehow I don’t want to tell him, since he’s such a lucky bastard.’

Above all, Dario seemed to have good fortune even without help. Even during his reckless days, he had friends willing to risk their lives for him.

If they were destined to be together, they would be, even without his help.

“If you’re going to confess, bring a good gift. Not necessarily expensive, but something thoughtful that can move the other person.”

“Hmm…”

As Dario groaned while shoveling, Wendigo threw the apple he was about to eat at Dario’s head. Dario clutched his head in pain as if he’d been hit by a stone.

But Wendigo felt no remorse. Shoveling should be done on the ground, not on one’s love life.

Even though love was a matter for lovers to resolve themselves, it was frustrating to watch from the sidelines.

“A man who commanded over a thousand people is struggling because of one person…”

At Wendigo’s scolding, Dario couldn’t refute and just pouted while digging. Even he thought it was a bit ridiculous.

When solving matters of life and death, he had felt a slight excitement, but here he was, fumbling because of one woman.

After finishing digging, Dario climbed out of the grave and sat on the ground. He glanced at Wendigo and grumbled with his chin on his knee.

“…But what can I do? I heard elves live for three hundred years, how can a human last three hundred years?”

Dario’s concern was quite realistic. It was rare for someone to remain unaffected after losing their partner.

Dario didn’t want Elhemina to endure such sorrow for over a hundred years.

But Wendigo looked puzzled and pointed at Dario.

“Is the mystical energy flowing in your body just for decoration?”

“Pardon?”

Dario made a dumbfounded sound, not understanding Wendigo’s words. There was no reason for mystical energy to flow within him.

But Wendigo could clearly sense the mystical energy flowing in Dario’s body.

Feeling a strangely familiar sensation, Wendigo ordered Dario:

“Cut the tip of your finger with your dagger.”

“That’s sudden… but if it’s an order, I must obey.”

With a sour expression, Dario cut the tip of his finger with his dagger. It was a thin cut, just enough to form a small drop of blood.

“Imagine the blood droplet on your fingertip rising into the air.”

When Wendigo’s voice became serious, Dario concentrated with a stern face.

Closing his eyes to focus, Dario opened them when he felt a tickling sensation at his fingertip, and saw a droplet of blood floating from his fingertip.

Startled, Dario looked back and forth between the blood droplet and Wendigo.

“I thought it felt familiar. It’s similar to the mystical energy Dencan wielded.”

“Come to think of it, Dencan seemed to do something when he grabbed my arm just before he died.”

“It seems he transferred the mystical energy in his body to you just before dying. It’s impressive, considering how chaotic it must have been when I destroyed the ancestor dwelling in his blood.”

The mystical energy felt from Dario was infinitely smaller compared to Dencan’s.

However, Dario’s mystical energy was better in that it was clean, completely free of unpleasant energy. At least it didn’t have the power to drive its owner mad.

“I heard from Skadi that ancient heroes lived longer than ordinary humans. If you find a way to increase your mystical energy, couldn’t you become something of a hero?”

While Dario was admiring the blood droplet moving according to his will, Wendigo lifted the coffin. He carefully placed it in the grave.

Wendigo looked at Dario and advised:

“If you have any last words you want to leave, say them now. We don’t know when we’ll be able to visit again.”

At Wendigo’s advice, Dario dismissed the blood droplet and looked down at the coffin. But he couldn’t think of what to say.

A cool breeze blew, and the leaves of the apple trees swayed. Dario raised his head at the sound.

“Ah.”

What caught Dario’s eye was a bright red apple. He picked it and carefully placed it on Dencan’s coffin.

“Next time, I’ll bring lots of good food with my lover when I visit.”

Hoping that the apple buried with him would convey the memories of their childhood together to Dencan…

Dario made a promise to Dencan… or perhaps to himself, as he buried the coffin. Wendigo and Dario prayed for Dencan’s soul to rest in peace and descended the hill.

On the hilltop that everyone had left, the leaves of the apple trees swayed in the wind, making a fresh sound.

* * *

When a war ends, rewards naturally follow. Few rulers would push their subjects into war with loyalty alone.

Wendigo granted lands that had lost their masters to warriors who had distinguished themselves. Among them, Wendigo kept Dencan’s land, the largest and most developed, as the king’s direct territory.

Befitting an estate most visited by merchants and mercenaries heading to the Empire, its value was tremendous, but no one dared covet it.

Having seen Wendigo’s direct involvement in this war, even the most tactless would naturally become cautious.

The remaining issue was the Empire’s reaction to losing its knights and self-proclaimed heroes…

Returning to the palace together, Dario shared his opinion with Wendigo:

“Even though they dispatched knights who all died, it will be difficult for them to influence us, if only because of the checks from the electors.”

“You mean they invested so much but couldn’t even retrieve the bodies?”

“If the emperor had invested his family’s wealth, that would be one thing, but would he have supported this with his own family’s assets? That would risk his family’s downfall if it failed.”

In an already unstable political climate due to the emperor’s greed, the emperor wouldn’t risk weakening his family’s power.

Rather, it would be more beneficial to abuse his authority and drain the national treasury—why would the emperor deplete his family’s strength?

Wendigo also thought it likely that an emperor who appointed worthless people based solely on their power would do such a thing.

A servant who spotted the two talking hurriedly ran over.

“Your Majesty, a distinguished guest has been waiting for your return.”

“A distinguished guest?”

“Yes. Lady Elhemina, representing the elves, has been waiting to see Your Majesty for three days.”

Flinch.

Dario, who was listening to the servant’s story, flashed his eyes at the mention of Elhemina’s name. He pleaded with Wendigo:

“Your Majesty, Elhemina has been waiting for three days to see you, wouldn’t it be proper to wash away the fatigue of battle before meeting her? So—”

“I understand what you want to say, so go quickly.”

When Dario began to elaborate on wanting to make himself presentable before meeting Elhemina, Wendigo grimaced and waved his hand as if telling him to get lost.

Dario left quickly, fearing Wendigo might change his mind.

Watching him, Wendigo burst into laughter. If nothing else, the man was certainly born lucky.