SBTNS Chapter 38

Seeing the light on in the office, Bietre went upstairs.

The people from the lower village had prepared a feast and invited the border guard post to it. Avette had instructed Bietre to select rational and calm members to attend the feast.

Though he was dumbfounded upon hearing they were invited to a feast, he thought it was rather fortunate. This was an opportunity for the members to openly observe the village. Bietre hoped to meet that d*amn doctor at the feast as he knocked on the office door.

"Captain, it's Bietre."

No matter how long he waited, no answer came telling him to enter. Feeling puzzled, he opened the door. The desk was empty. It seemed Avette had forgotten to blow out the candle before leaving.

Bietre thought it was an uncharacteristic mistake for Avette and approached the candlestick, then discovered a body collapsed under the desk.

"Captain!"

Bietre, startled out of his wits, lifted Avette.

Avette, who groaned softly, gestured weakly as if telling him not to make a fuss.

"...I'm not deaf yet... Don't shout in my ear..."

He deliberately acted tough, but saying such things with a bloodless face was useless. Bietre, whose face had also turned pale, seated Avette in a chair. Avette's entire body was cold as ice.

"When, exactly when did you collapse? Medicine, no, a physician, a physician..."

"Don't make a fuss..."

Avette patted Bietre's shoulder as if telling him to calm down. Bietre, who didn't know what to do, knelt and faced Avette. The blood vessels in the whites of his eyes had all burst, making both eyes red.

He had known Avette's health wasn't what it used to be. But he had comforted himself thinking that couldn't be true. Faced with the reality he had denied in the worst possible state, he was suddenly frightened.

When the most rational Bietre in the guard post reddened his eyes, Avette smiled bitterly.

"You fool, why are you crying... I just staggered because my knees hurt and fell... It's nothing serious, so don't worry too much. Even if I'm old, I'm still an awakened one..."

Though Avette pretended to be fine, Bietre could no longer believe those words. Bietre, who stood up, gazed at Avette's aged body. He was determined to find out what was ailing him if he didn't tell the truth.

"Captain... exactly where are you unwell? I've suspected from before that it's not a knee problem."

He looked over the papers scattered around the desk. Avette hadn't fallen while trying to stand up. He had fainted while sitting in his chair looking at work. Avette's condition might be more serious than Bietre imagined.

Bietre, who roughly washed his face, caught his breath.

"Charmille probably suspects too. How could she not know when the amount of painkillers you use has increased so much? Please tell me what illness it is. I don't want to regret losing you overnight without being able to do anything for you. Please..."

Bietre, unable to contain his sorrow, finally shed tears.

Bietre had entered the border guard post holding his father's hand at an age when he should have been running around causing trouble. Avette had raised Bietre, who didn't even know his mother's face, like a grandson. He had been with Avette since then.

The border guard post that Avette created was everything to Bietre. Tapchallan was Bietre's hometown, and the guard post was his home. He couldn't imagine that place without Avette.

When Bietre cried, Avette showed a complicated expression.

"Insuk, do you know how old I am? Valdar and carts alike wear out and can't roll when their time comes. My body has worn out, and now its time has come, so how can I leave with peace of mind if you cry so sadly?"

When Avette spoke as if he would die immediately, Bietre straightened up and knelt again. His gesture of embracing Avette's legs as if he shouldn't go anywhere was pitiful. Bietre cried and got angry.

"You can't leave! That's nonsense! You can get medicine and live longer. You can eat good things and live long with us!"

Avette comforted the crying Bietre, then gripped the desk.

"...Bietre, help me stand up."

Bietre quickly supported Avette. Avette loosened the wide belt around his waist while leaning against the desk.

When he untied the wide belt and opened his clothes, a blunt lump protruded from inside. Seeing the lump as big as a newborn's head, the color drained from Bietre's face.

It wasn't just a lump. It was a tumor.

Blood vessels bulged around the sagging tumor that had lost its elasticity. The tumor was heavily pressing on Avette's life with its large size.

Avette wrapped the tumor with familiar hands as if he had been carrying it in his body for quite some time and tied his belt. Unlike the dejected Bietre, his complexion was calm.

"I secretly met with doctors to have it removed, but I was told I'd die whether I remove it or not."

Avette, who had straightened his clothes, glanced at Bietre. Bietre was in a dazed state, shocked by the large tumor. As if expecting this reaction, Avette chuckled and sat heavily in his chair.

"Until recently, it was somehow bearable... but the size suddenly grew and it started causing pain in my stomach. I've been using magal for about two weeks now to suppress the pain, but it's not manageable. There's no helping it... How could it be easy to force a body to keep living when its time to go has come?"

Opening the box where tobacco leaves were stored revealed magal hidden underneath. Bietre's expression as he fingered the magal was blank. It was a face like he had crossed an irreversible river.

Bietre had been at the guard post for a long time. He knew what using magal meant. Avette looked at Bietre, who had stopped crying, and murmured in his usual voice.

"I'm sorry."

Those words contained many meanings. Bietre shed tears again. His appearance of biting his lips to swallow his sobs was pitiful. Avette, with a face that had long ago accepted death, filled his pipe with magal.

"Don't tell Charmille. I'll tell her myself when the time comes."

"...How long..."

Bietre couldn't continue his words and closed his mouth. Avette, who understood his meaning, answered.

"Probably three or four months to live. If I'm lucky, I'll live until late autumn."

Not even a year remained. Bietre was about to say he would find a way somehow, then weakly looked at the magal filling the pipe.

If there was no method other than magal, what should he do? The best would be to act as usual. To fulfill his role in his given position. Then he shouldn't cry anymore.

Bietre, who had been absent-minded, wiped his tears. Then he handed the papers he had dropped to Avette.

"I've selected members to attend the lower village feast. This is the list."

"You worked hard. They're all calm ones, right?"

"That's right."

Avette scanned the list. Neither Batis nor Eithe was on it. But he didn't comment on Bietre's choices.

Avette, who withdrew his gaze from the paper, watched the darkness outside the window. Was Charmille contemplating, or had she already made her choice?

"Bietre. If something happens and I can't move, ask Charmille whether she'll go to the feast. If she hesitates, don't take her, but if she doesn't hesitate, take her. Even if Batis tries to stop her, you must take her somehow. Do you understand?"

"I'll keep it in mind."

Bietre didn't ask for reasons. Avette, whose lips curved upward, lit his pipe.

"You must be tired, go and rest."

When magal smoke rose, he had to leave the office whether he wanted to or not. Bietre left that place as if nothing had happened. His footsteps going down the stairs and his expression heading to the dormitory were as calm as usual.

But before reaching the dormitory, unable to bear the surging emotions, he hid in the shadows. Bietre crouched down and wept silently.

"Why is your expression like that?"

Eithe, who was walking ahead, asked in a sour voice. Batis wore an expression of not knowing what he meant.

"What?"

"You don't know what I'm asking? Really?"

Eithe, who stopped walking, held his lantern at eye level.

"Anyone can see it's the face of someone who fought with his wife and wants to die from guilt. If you hate me being nosy, at least don't make it so obvious."

Batis irritably pushed away the lantern that came close to his face and passed Eithe.

"Stop making wild guesses."

"Right, if you never fought, then you must have unilaterally wronged Charmille."

Eithe, who sneered in a languid voice, followed Batis. Batis was about to punch Eithe's head but swallowed his anger.

When the image of Charmille forcing herself to smile came to mind, his throat felt stuffy. He unclenched his fist and turned to Eithe. Though he didn't want to admit it, he needed advice.

"...Have you never wronged your wife?"

"Never."

Though he asked after much hesitation, Eithe replied curtly as if it was obvious. Batis furrowed his brow.

"Don't lie."

"It's true. I never did anything Estella disliked, even if a knife came to my throat."

Because Eithe was so lazy, his words didn't seem credible. But if it was the words of the dragon who had married General Estella, it was believable.

Estella's companion dragon was a famous existence in the Kamilak Empire in many ways. Eithe might give appropriate advice. Batis spoke while walking the patrol route.

"You must have heard that the village people prepared a feast."

"I heard, but what about it?"

Eithe replied with a big yawn.

"Charmille seems to want to go there."

"Tell her to go. What's the problem? What does it matter if she goes and eats rice cakes or dances?"

"The village representative specifically invited Charmille."

The yawning sound abruptly stopped. Eithe remembered the village representative who was at the center of the addicts and frowned. The representative targeting Charmille among many Valdar in the guard post was definitely not a good sign.

"Why Charmille specifically? There must be some scheme."

The addicts in the village had been waiting for Charmille. Perhaps they were trying to make Charmille an accomplice by feeding her herte. Whatever their intentions, Batis no longer wanted to send Charmille to the lower village.

"I don't want to send Charmille either. I'm confident I can protect Charmille no matter what happens, but there's no need to jump into fire. The people who follow the doctor are addicts. Who knows what they'll do to Charmille."

"So you told her not to go?"

Batis hesitated to answer. Eithe was puzzled.

"Don't tell me the princess said she wouldn't go? That's unusual, she seems stubborn now unlike when she was a princess."

"Right, Charmille said with her own mouth that she wouldn't go."

"Then it's resolved. What's the problem?"

Eithe, who replied bluntly, glanced sideways. Batis's expression was dark. Eithe stopped walking. When the following footsteps ceased, Batis also stopped.

He gazed at the dark opposite side, then turned to Eithe. The image of Charmille smiling while hiding her true feelings was stuck in his heart like a thorn and wouldn't come out.

"I..."

Batis, who trailed off, moved his lips. Batis was regretting something.

"I feel like I broke Charmille's heart..."

Eithe roughly guessed what had happened between the two.

Probably Batis had opposed Charmille attending the feast. It was a clear situation where the villagers were targeting Charmille. There was no way Batis would quietly watch Charmille go down to the village.

If it were the usual Charmille, she would have acted according to her own stubbornness regardless of Batis's opposition. But judging from Batis's strange reaction, it seemed Charmille had obediently bent her will for some reason.

Batis was bothered by that. The reason why Charmille had obediently given up.

"Did the princess cry?"

"No."

"If she didn't even cry, why are you bothered?"

"...She forced herself to smile."

Like when she used to live trapped in the tower.

Batis, who swallowed his words, lowered his gaze. Eithe carefully observed Batis's attitude. He seemed to understand what the problem was.

Eithe, who sighed as if annoyed, walked along the patrol route and spoke.

"Do you know what was hardest when I was with Estella? Civil war? Ambushes? Starving? Being discovered as a dragon? None of those."

Eithe, who reached their destination, sat on a tree stump and gazed at the border where darkness had descended.

"Watching the woman I love lower her pride and kneel before idiots was the hardest to bear."

Though his voice was quiet and languid, Eithe twisted his lips as if he still couldn't contain his anger just thinking about it. Batis understood what Eithe was trying to say.

Charmille had wanted to do something related to what was happening in the lower village. It could have been simply trying to find out the truth of the incident, understanding what it meant to live as a Valdar, or attempting to do something for herself.

Though Charmille was in a position where she could ask Batis to protect her, she hadn't. Whether it was because of pride, or because she was ashamed of her situation where she couldn't do anything without help, it was unclear, but what was certain was that Charmille had given up. That fact saddened Batis.

Batis recalled Charmille's expression as she too readily gave up attending, then murmured softly.

"Charmille is weak."

If something happened at the feast, Charmille wouldn't be able to protect herself. Charmille knew this too, which is why she gave up attending. It was a wise decision. However, not all wise choices brought satisfying results.

"If your princess is weak, teach her how to fight. Of course, only if Charmille wants to fight."

Eithe, who spoke casually, yawned as if tired and lay down.

"Try not to hurt your woman's pride. You'll regret it for a long time."

Batis looked down at Eithe, who lay down as if ready to sleep. Eithe, who had extinguished the lantern, muttered in a sleepy voice.

"I'm tired because of you. I'll sleep for a bit, so wake me when it's time to move."

Though it was work time, Eithe shamelessly sought sleep. Normally he would have kicked Eithe's head, but not today.

Batis looked at Eithe, who had quickly fallen asleep, then turned his gaze toward where the guard post was.

The tower that had imprisoned the princess had collapsed. Not even a trace of what had existed remained where the tower had stood. But towers existed everywhere. Batis wasn't by Charmille's side to become a tower.

"If she wants to fight..."

He repeated what Eithe had said. Batis felt he needed to have another conversation with Charmille as he turned his gaze to the border.

Though it was before sunrise, Avette was sitting in his office. He looked like he had gotten up early to come work, but in fact, he had stayed up all night in the office because he couldn't sleep. It was a familiar thing for Avette.

Insomnia had started since he began using magal. Though his body hurt and he couldn't sleep, making him irritable, Avette thought it was rather fortunate. He wanted to prepare a generous budget to pass on a prosperous guard post to the next captain.

He didn't know who would succeed him, but the guard post's continuation depended on the Khan's decision. He had no choice but to watch the power struggles unfolding in the imperial palace.

He read the letters one by one carefully. He stared at the sentence saying the whereabouts of the fourteenth prince were unknown. If the prince couldn't return to the imperial palace in time, the empress's son or a prince secretly receiving Karkus support would become Khan.

"A candle before the wind..."

It would be a lie to say he wasn't worried about the guard post's future, but Avette had vague faith. There were two dragons here that were thought to be extinct. Moreover, Princess Naharle, who was thought to be only a legendary figure, existed.

Though he was amazed at how Charmille had survived until now, Avette wasn't interested in immortality, so he focused on other things instead. If Naharle was truly a princess and the successor of the Belrta Kingdom, which was Karkus's predecessor—though she might have been despised while trapped in a tower—Charmille had the right to claim the throne and territory.

If a prince friendly to Valdar became Khan, it would be possible for Valdar and the border guard post to move Kamilak's army using the rights Charmille possessed. However, all of this depended on how Charmille decided to live.

If Charmille wished to live ordinarily, she would have to give up Princess Naharle's inheritance rights. Also, Charmille shouldn't be used as a justification.

Avette burned the letters containing secrets and thought that Charmille's identity must absolutely be kept secret. Though who would believe that Charmille was Princess Naharle, there were many in the world who would manipulate others' lives for their own benefit regardless of truth.

He threw the ashes into the trash and stood up with difficulty. He used to often go out to greet members returning from night patrol, but lately his body was too difficult to do so.

Soon there would come a day when he couldn't go greet them even if he wanted to. Avette thought he shouldn't leave any regrets and left his desk.

As he approached the door leaning on his cane, he suddenly felt nauseous. There was nothing to come up since he hadn't eaten, but Avette couldn't stand upright and collapsed as he was.

His vision spun and became blurry. He frantically searched for his cane, but his hands and feet, seized by convulsions, wouldn't obey. To make matters worse, pain spread from his stomach. Avette couldn't bear the intense pain and side effects and fainted.

Normally, there wouldn't be any Valdar loitering near the captain's office at that time.

But only today, women who had gotten up early were looking for paper to wrap dried meat on the first floor of the building with the office. The dried meat was prepared as a token of gratitude for those who had prepared the feast.

Thud.

The women cutting large paper with scissors looked up at the sound.

"What was that sound? Did a bird hit something?"

"Which floor was it from? Right above us?"

"No, it seemed a bit higher..."

"Third floor? The captain's office?"

The women who had gathered paper for wrapping came outside and looked up. There was no bird that had fainted from hitting the outer wall.

Their gaze went higher. The office window was slightly bright. It seemed a candle was lit. The women glanced at each other.

Everyone knew that Avette had trouble moving around due to his poor knee condition. Though he was an awakened one, Avette was an old man. Several women who couldn't hide their worry went upstairs.

"Captain, are you inside? We heard a thud and came, did you perhaps fall?"

They knocked on the door and asked, but no answer came. One woman hesitantly opened the door.

As soon as she saw Avette collapsed, the surprised woman swallowed a scream. The flustered woman stamped her feet and shouted toward the railing below.

"Bietre, no, Charmille... ah, no, call anyone! Quickly!"