Ch.635Side Story) Orhan. 21 Years Ago (3)

The prohibition on looting and the emancipation of slaves were decisions I had to make despite considerable opposition. They touched the very foundation of steppe culture.

I hadn’t completely banned these practices—merely redirected them from westerners to our own kind beyond the Barun River—but convincing warriors not to attack the western people was no easy task.

“Why must we do this?”

Even Jargal, one of my closest confidants, couldn’t understand why we should leave the westerners alone.

“To conquer the great plains. If we attack the westerners, they’ll send armies against us in retaliation. Do you think we can advance eastward while dealing with their interference?”

“Even if we leave the westerners alone, there’s no guarantee they’ll behave themselves.”

Jargal’s concern was reasonable. War isn’t like a game of chess. Even if we don’t attack, there’s no guarantee the other side won’t come at us.

Imelia argued that after the annihilation of the punitive force and the liberation of western slaves, Ludwig would cease his pointless attacks, having seen that Clan Aishan was different from other minor tribes…

But I knew too little about the man to be certain of anything.

“Well… we’ll have to wait and see. At least it’s worth trying.”

Yet even as I said this, I hoped her assurance would prove true. That would be the best outcome for both of us.

“If the Khan says so…”

In the end, Jargal bowed his head and accepted my order.

He didn’t seem to agree with the optimistic view that westerners wouldn’t attack us—he had simply stopped objecting out of respect for my authority.

Convincing the other warriors was dozens of times more difficult.

—-

“Everyone was glaring at me like they wanted to kill me.”

In the bedroom of the Golden Flower Palace, Imelia sat askew on the bed, covering herself with the blanket and giving a bitter smile.

“It can’t be helped. In the warriors’ eyes, you’re a westerner who has bewitched their Khan and made the warriors weak. But since I’ve taken you as my concubine, they won’t dare to be more disrespectful than just glaring.”

“A foreign woman who has bewitched the king… To think that the heir of House Median would be treated as a ‘Sorcière.’ How amusing.”

Finding it quite funny to be ostracized by the warriors, Imelia bent slightly forward and chuckled. Her snow-white back was damp with sweat. The scent of marigold tickled my nose.

“Sor-sia? What does that mean?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure what you call it here. It refers to an evil woman who wields curses, flames, and lightning to kill many people and torment their bodies and souls.”

“A sorcerer, then. We don’t particularly distinguish between men and women.”

I picked up a strand of golden hair sprawled across the bed and touched it lightly.

Golden like the rising sun melting into the dawn sky. It was a fascinating color. While golden hair was common among western slaves, hair with such vitality was rare.

– Rustle.

The scent of marigold grew stronger. How should I put it? It was a smell that brought peace to my mind, like waking up after a good night’s sleep.

Perhaps that’s why I added words that didn’t need to be said.

“…I’m not treating you as a sorcerer. If that were the case, there would already be a flood of petitions demanding your execution. They’re simply dissatisfied that they can’t fight freely. So… you won’t have any problems with your safety.”

“……”

Imelia stared at me with wide eyes for a while, then—

“Pfft.”

She smiled, her eyes gently curving.

—-

For several months after that day, we had many conversations.

She shared her impressions of the Empire’s magnificent capital and the gleaming white imperial palace, and I replied that Ordos would someday prosper in the same way.

On another day, she told me about the first emperor and twelve warrior generals worshipped by the people of the Empire. She claimed to be a descendant of one of them.

Her ancestor was supposedly a legendary warrior who could not be harmed by any weapon in this world and could cut through anything…

“There must be some exaggeration. That’s how hero tales usually are, right?”

She didn’t seem to fully believe it herself.

“Interesting story. What would happen if that warrior struck his own arm with his sword?”

“…Good question?”

Though it was a joke, through this conversation I found a clue to becoming stronger than I already was.

An invulnerable body that cannot be wounded by anything—that was the form of strength I needed to pursue. Thanks to the blessing of divine blood, I already had sufficient strength and speed.

—

Two years later, Imelia gave birth to a child. A dark-haired daughter with sharp eyes like mine and blue eyes like hers.

Two years earlier, I might have been disappointed that it wasn’t a son. What I wanted then was a boy who would inherit my talent—the wolf’s blood—plus Imelia’s abilities.

But now it didn’t matter.

Yes, what did it matter whether it was a son or daughter?

Whether the child inherited the wolf’s blood or not, what difference did it make?

It was fine either way.

I could conquer the great plains with my own strength, and I could choose the more suitable son between Targiyan and Sahakal to succeed me.

Imelia named the child Herse Ella… Hersella. It meant goddess of dew, she said.

I changed the child’s name to the Ka’har style, choosing words with similar sounds in the Ka’har language. I didn’t tell Imelia what those words meant, though.

Ha-schal-r.

I wondered if it was appropriate to use words meaning “to harm, kill, and make weep” as my daughter’s name, but there was no better name for the warriors to accept.

That same year, my fourth official wife, Dahamei, also gave birth to a son. I named him Amin. Dahamei seemed satisfied with having given birth to a son, holding Amin in her arms with a triumphant smile.

She was probably pleased that she had borne a son while Imelia had given birth to a daughter.

Dahamei was originally my third official wife, but after Imelia became pregnant before her and was recognized as an official wife, Dahamei was pushed to fourth place and developed a hatred-like competitive spirit toward Imelia.

—-

Haschal grew up well.

She showed no signs of inheriting the wolf’s blood and seemed uninterested in the warrior’s path, but she displayed excellent talent in horseback riding and archery.

According to Imelia, she also had talent for swordsmanship but showed no interest in it, so she was only taught basic sword techniques for self-defense.

At that time, I was too busy with the eastern expedition to spend much time with her and Haschal. For three years.

And in early winter, ten years after I met Imelia—when Haschal was eight years old—

Ludwig attacked Clan Aishan.

Taking advantage of the absence of the main force under my command during the eastern expedition.

After ten years of neither attacking the westerners nor being attacked by them, we had become complacent.

We thought the Empire wouldn’t invade, that Ludwig wouldn’t attempt a pointless war.

We were wrong.

Ludwig neither wanted peace nor had he lowered his guard against the Ka’har. He had simply been waiting.

Waiting until he had gathered sufficient forces to attack Clan Aishan. For a full ten years.

I later learned that among the imperials we pursued and killed during the few days after Imelia’s capture and her escape attempt, there had been Ludwig’s son.

It was something neither Imelia nor I could have known, but should have known—before things became so complicated.

—-

As soon as I heard about the Empire’s attack, I hurriedly returned with my troops and barely managed to defend Ordos from falling and drive the imperial forces back beyond the wall.

However, the damage we suffered from that single invasion was truly enormous. Countless soldiers and warriors lost their lives, and more than five champions were killed in action. It was an unprecedented disaster for which someone had to take responsibility.

And… all the warriors of Clan Aishan placed that responsibility on Imelia’s shoulders. Even I couldn’t fully protect her. If I had tried, Clan Aishan might have split into five or six minor tribes.

Instead of rejecting the warriors’ clamor to execute Imelia or return her to slavery, I had to demote her from the Khan’s official wife to concubine and show that I was keeping my distance from her.

It was the advice of Biyashen and Meiharin.

They said that the more I defended her, the more the warriors’ hostility toward Imelia would grow—perhaps to the point of attempting assassination the moment I was absent.

I thought their reasoning was sound, and Imelia, though sighing deeply, agreed.

“…We have no choice. Since Ludwig made such a decision… if you try to protect me, even Haschal might be in danger.”

Indeed, when I distanced myself from her and began to show hostility toward westerners again, the warriors seemed satisfied and stopped mentioning Imelia’s name.

For one year.

The following year, my marigold withered.

It was death by curse.