TOPWL 214

Though he had been interrogated, Markel retained his rank as centurion, so he led his soldiers toward Saintra Castle. In the distance, he caught sight of Noban’s retreating figure. His shoulders slumped far lower than usual. Markel watched Noban with a look of satisfaction. What a hopelessly blind fool. Had he chosen me over Darion, his future might have been different. But then again, being born common stock, his narrow-mindedness was inevitable. He’ll die in this battle anyway, let him meet Darion in the afterlife and slap palms together.

“……”

Markel glared up at the sky in irritation. The relentless rain of the past few days had soaked him through. Though he wore a raincoat, it was useless. His original plan had been to feign death in this battle, then escape once the war ended. But the thought of being trapped amidst mud and corpses made him lose his nerve. Escaping from the start seemed far wiser.

“Halt, all of you.”

At the sergeant’s command, the soldiers halted their advance. Darion looked around in confusion. He’d expected them to charge like moths toward the castle walls, yet they remained stuck halfway up the mountainside.

“We’ll hold position here.”

***

He’d assumed they’d descend after a brief wait, but the sergeant had stood motionless on the mountainside for two hours, staring down below.

It was Marquel who grew restless. He had already shared the strategy discussed at yesterday’s meeting with the Lord of Saintra. Had the plan changed in the meantime? They were just a short distance from the castle walls where Saintra’s soldiers lay in ambush.

Damn it. Marquel bit his lip. He really didn’t want to draw attention today. After hesitating, Markel stepped forward. Noban was watching him with a cold gaze.

“What is it?”

“Shouldn’t we start descending soon? The continuous rain is sapping the soldiers’ strength.”

The rain, which had been irritating earlier, now provided a convenient excuse. But Noban remained unmoved.

“We stand our ground.”

Markel glared at Nohban, his voice tight with frustration. Yet Nohban gazed into the distance and murmured.

“It’s almost here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Can’t you hear it?”

Markel strained his ears, but only the downpour roared, no other sound reached him.

“What sound are you talking about?”

At Marquel’s words, Noban sneered coldly.

“Your ears are duller than an old man’s. Though I too am blind.”

Having uttered nothing but incomprehensible words, Noban gazed once more toward the distant mountains.

“It’s been truly exhausting these past few days.”

He had been lounging about the castle while the prince lay stricken, yet he spoke with such ease. Markel sneered inwardly. At best, it must have been mental anguish.

“To see… the enemy roaming right before your eyes, yet be utterly powerless… it was truly helpless.”

The rain drowned out Noban’s voice, making his words hard to catch. As Markel listened, he suddenly realized he could hear water flowing. Had the rain formed a natural waterfall? He scanned his surroundings but saw only scattered puddles, no waterfall in sight.

“Not there.”

Noban’s voice was stiff. When Markel lifted his head, Noban pointed a finger toward distant mountains.

“Over there.”

Markel frowned, suspecting a joke. Logically, even if a waterfall formed on those mountains, there was no way it could be heard from here.

Yet Noban’s voice held not a trace of jest.

“……?”

The sound of water began piercing through the downpour. With a rumble like something colossal exploding, the earth started to tremble.

“What did you do?”

Noban didn’t answer Markel’s urgent question. He stared at Markel with eerily calm eyes before speaking.

“…Do you even know what you’ve done?”

Noban’s question sent a chill down his spine.

He’d been caught.

Markel glared at Noban, his face drained of color.

How long had he known? But why release me and bring me here?

In a split second, countless thoughts raced through his mind.

There was only one answer.

To use him.

And to show him the result firsthand, Noban had brought Markel here.

Meanwhile, the noise had grown deafening. Markel glanced absently at the mountain ahead and widened his eyes in disbelief.

A colossal torrent engulfed the entire mountain, cascading downward. Its sheer volume was so immense it could be mistaken for the sea itself.

“How on earth…”

The raging waters tore through everything in their path, shattering and crushing all resistance. With deafening crashes, ancient trees snapped and shattered, while boulders that had stood for centuries were uprooted and sent tumbling down. Before nature’s brutal might, the human Markel felt pitifully powerless.

“……”

But this was no time for such thoughts. He should flee to plan for the future. Yet doubt struck him. Would there truly be a future for him?

Had the prince truly perished?

Who else but that prince would use a spy like him and commit such a daring act? If so, he would be a fool, deceived and reporting falsehoods to Prince Reginald.

It felt as if all the blood drained from his body. His legs began to tremble violently. Markel gritted his teeth. Even if he ran, he had to escape, even if it was just a palm’s width. Fortunately, everyone was distracted by the flood, so fewer eyes were on Markel. Perhaps they assumed he couldn’t escape with so many soldiers present. The moment the thought crossed his mind, Markel drew his sword. The old man’s gaze darkened with despair.

“You… you truly…!”

Markel swung his sword wildly as he charged toward the horses. Fortunately, many soldiers had dismounted during the long wait. The moment he grabbed the reins, he cracked the whip. The startled horse whinnied and reared up.

Markel lashed the whip across the hindquarters of another horse nearby, creating chaos, then began his full-speed run. The enraged horse bucked violently, and Markel held for dear life, gripping its neck.

Through his blurred vision, Markel gazed at Noban. He had expected him to be angry, but Noban looked at him with a troubled expression. He opened his mouth to speak. But as the horse plunged downward with Markel aboard, he never got to hear what it was.

Gurgle-gurgle-gurgle-!

Water surged relentlessly through the straight-cut trench. Soldiers atop the city walls, seeing the water closing in moment by moment, rang the alarm bells frantically, but it was useless. The Saintra soldiers who had been standing with Markel, sharing the battle plan, scattered like a swarm of ants. But the water engulfed everything far faster than they could flee. The torrent that swallowed the soldiers whole slammed violently against the castle walls. Once, twice, three times.

Though the walls had withstood the river’s repeated assaults, they gradually began to crumble from the bottom up as time passed. For a moment, the water level seemed to dip, only for the torrent to surge mercilessly through the collapsing gaps, ultimately destroying everything. Markel watched in utter dismay as even the soldiers atop the walls were swept away.

“……”

There was nowhere to flee. The currents still lurked, hungry for human lives, while behind him lay the officers and soldiers.

Where there was neither retreat nor escape, only despair remained. Waaaaaah! The sound of a scream made Markel turn his head. Through his blurred vision, he saw a figure standing on the cliff’s edge. Short golden hair and violet eyes that remained distinct even from this distance, a man more suited to ballrooms and high society than battlefields stood at the cliff’s edge, listening calmly to the soldiers’ cries. He lowered his gaze, fixing it precisely on where Markel stood. Then he flashed a victorious smile toward Markel. Markel let out a hollow laugh and cursed.

“Damn it…”

Markel suddenly thought: Even with the best hand, perhaps I played the worst card.