The dawn was appreciated from the top of the insula. I was lying on the roof, watching the sun rise.
"Uaaah! God, where did His Majesty learn to drink like this? The last time I saw him, he was a child I used to mock." I stretched my arms. "I think it's time to go back."
When we finished, there were no servants to take me to a room. His Majesty's butler had taken him to his quarters, and as the King was still not awake, I decided to leave.
...
I had found the Black Knights, who were already prepared since dawn. One of the soldiers brought Nightmare to me; it even looked cleaner than yesterday.
"Sir, we found these daggers and thought you might like them." Parlot extended his hands and handed me some daggers wrapped in a cloth.
"Oh! I didn't expect this. Did you send the boxes to the other nobles?" I asked as I unwrapped the daggers.
"Yes, we distributed them according to your criteria, sir," he nodded.
Unwrapping the daggers, I saw something surprising. Both daggers were of the same size, 30cm. One black and the other blue.
The black one was so opaque that light did not reflect on it. It had a curved and simple edge, and the back was complex. It was a weapon for mutilation!
The blue one, in a Roman style, had an edge that shone slightly. As I ran my finger over the edge, blood sprouted.
"These daggers are amazing! Thank you, Parlot!" I said happily.
"We are really glad you like them, sir. We found them hidden under the tent."
"The bastard had a hiding place!? No wonder he refused to cooperate."
"Maybe he didn't know; the hiding place was full of dust," he commented.
I was surprised, especially because maybe Isal kept these daggers... to sell them, I guess.
"Oh, Mother. If Isal hadn't died, this wouldn't have happened."
"...Certainly."
"Hm, we used to buy things from him for years; who would have thought it would end like this. May his body never wake up. Let's go. Hya!"
Without giving much weight to the matter, we set off for the Black Fortress.
...
On the walls of Eboracum, a young man with silky black hair and smooth pale skin observed from above. His sharp blue eyes gave a sense of coldness. He was elegantly dressed in a blue outfit and fine boots.
"Weren't you going to say goodbye, Count Fielbrandt?" Ian asked at his side, not wearing a mask this time. On his face, two large scars were visible; one crossed his mouth from side to side, and another on his right eye from top to bottom. His voice clearly didn't match those marks.
"It's not necessary; he already wrote everything he wanted to me," he responded indifferently.
Raymond Fielbrandt, Count in Eboracum and a merchant of utensils. Despite his refined appearance, he was never seen losing a sword duel.
...
It took us 4 days to reach the Dead Forest, near the Black Fortress. This place was famous because the trees always seemed to be in autumn. Despite its fame, not even wild beasts dared to venture here.
Tac! Tac! Tac!
And of course, there was a reason why no one wanted to be near here.
"You all go in first; I'll come later," I said calmly.
"But Lord-"
"Don't worry; it's not like something will happen to me, haha," I added with a light tone.
In reality, I was just doing this to tease Parlot a bit, who was afraid of Duran.
"...Yes, sir," Parlot reluctantly accepted his fate and proceeded to gallop with the others.
The silence returned.
Tac! Tac!
"I missed coming back here," Nightmare spoke to me.
"... Yes, me too."
I also missed the fortress. I perfectly understood Nightmare, who rarely spoke to people. All of this was due to the trauma of being hunted in the past, as his race is feared. The worst part is that he cannot produce offspring since only females can give birth to their kind.
"Returning to more sensible topics. When do you plan to get married?" Nightmare asked.
"I'll do that when I stop hearing a horse's voice in my head, JAJAJA," I mocked.
We walked slowly, chatting idly, completely forgetting about the fate of a certain person.
...
In the end, I had arrived. While walking slowly and approaching the gates, the guards stared. No one stopped me. Parlot probably informed them.
In any case, as I passed beyond the gate and the high walls, I looked at the winding path that led straight to the castle at the end. There stood the imposing Black Fortress.
In the streets, people had set up stalls to sell everything from food to strange contraptions.
At some point, people started looking in my direction. Everyone stood up to see me and then followed my steps.
Supposedly, no one knows that I've been in Rome all this time, at most it seems that they are following me because they haven't seen me leave the castle in these 6 years... right?
"It's Lord Leonhart..."
"The Marquis is outside again."
"Why is he alone?"
The murmurs didn't take long.
But above all, WHAT IS HAPPENING!?
I even heard someone talking who seemed taller yesterday!
Quickening my pace and leaving the growing crowd behind, I soon reached the castle gate.
...
Crossing the gate, on an impressive black horse, was Marquis Blackwood. He had olive skin and curly black hair; his striking black eyes captured all attention. With a not-so-impressive height of 170 cm.
He dismounted abruptly. I scanned everyone around me; wherever my gaze went, people tensed.
Due to the limited space in the castle, the training area was located in the entire front yard. Dozens of soldiers and knights surrounded the newly arrived Leonhart, keeping their distance.
In front of Leonhart, four people were on a few steps. Each one watched their lord with diverse expressions.
"I have returned," Leonhart spoke.
"Maria, welcome my lord." On the left, the first to bow, Maria, had long hair tied in a ponytail. Her white skin and cold expression gave the impression of someone untouchable. Dressed humbly, the housekeeper welcomed the marquis.
"Welcome back, oh Lord Blackend. Charlotte Di Szigaliel sends warm regards." She said, holding her dress.
Next to her, with a seductive voice, Charlotte wore a red flared dress. Under the parasol she held, her pale skin and crimson eyes were visible; her small plump lips sparked the imagination of any man. She gave a slight bow.
Following her was Parlot, who simply nodded, though his expression showed nervousness.
On his right was the last man, whose height would make anyone pale. With broad shoulders and a stern expression, the man had pale gray skin. On his face, some scars, and on his neck, what seemed to be a fine mark that surrounded his neck. Also, in his missing eye, there was a dark spot.
"Duran, commander of the Black Fortress, welcomes Lord Blackend," he said with a broad smile
.
His smile sent shivers down everyone who saw it.
"Now that he has returned from his journey to Eboracum, I must say that the feast begins!" Duran shouted.
Like the singing of a furious river, everyone cheered. There was joy in the air, everyone except one person.
Leonhart Blackend had an icy expression on his face.