To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 154

“What do you mean by a request?”

Tarik asked, frowning deeply, his thick eyebrows drawing together.

“I’d like you to take your soldiers and head to the barbarians’ original base,” Varkan replied. “In their haste to escape, they surely couldn’t have gathered all their belongings. I need you to thoroughly investigate the area. If there are any remaining barbarians, capture them.”

“Is that really necessary? Even if there are, they’ll only be the stragglers,” Tarik retorted, finding Varkan’s explanation hard to accept. In his heart, he wanted to rush in and take revenge on the enemies who had taken his son. But now he was being asked to tidy up an empty hideout?

“I must have misunderstood. I thought our goal was to uproot the barbarians,” Varkan responded, smirking in that infuriatingly smug way of his.

“To achieve that, the most important step is cleanup. If you’re not going to kill every last one of them, you may as well offer them land and recruit them. Otherwise, don’t bother with this tedious business.”

“Recruit them?! After all this time?!” Tarik’s eyes flashed with anger at the absurd suggestion. This was exactly the reaction Varkan had been waiting for, and he added smoothly:

“Exactly. Take that rage and use it to scour their base. Make sure they can never sprout back again. If any of the past Lords of Mieve had done their jobs properly, we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.”

The truth of Varkan’s words was undeniable, hitting hard enough to break bones. Even so, Tarik’s face twisted with scarcely restrained fury, but Varkan lowered his voice and added, almost conspiratorially:

“It’s also for the sake of your second son. You might not be able to lay down a path of roses, but at least clear the shards of glass.”

Tarik’s expression was filled with frustration, but eventually, he grudgingly nodded. He knew that Joshua, his unprepared heir, was struggling with the current situation.

“Uh, Lord Ha Mash,” Lieutenant Harty, who had been fidgeting anxiously behind them, suddenly spoke up. “If it’s alright, I’d like to accompany the count as well. I am his lieutenant, after all.”

Harty requested carefully, but Varkan refused without even turning around.

“No, you’re needed here. We must have someone who knows the desert well.”

“Then perhaps Masaka Erich could take my place…?”

“Erich has been stationed here for less than two years, hasn’t he?” Varkan’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. “Unless, of course, you have a reason why he shouldn’t come with us?”

There was an almost ominous undertone to Varkan’s question, causing Harty to nervously close his mouth.

“N-no, of course not. We’ll follow your orders.”

Meanwhile, Erich bristled as well. He clearly felt that his two years of military service were being grossly undervalued. Irel could see the dissatisfaction rising in his flushed cheeks.

‘This is going to be noisy again,’ Irel thought with a sigh. Varkan was acting like a perfect dictator, and everywhere she looked, there were frustrated Westerners grumbling. It was a wonderfully tense scene.

Well, whatever. Let things go how they will.

***

Varkan glanced at the sullen Irel and chuckled.

“Heh.”

“…What? You find this funny?” Irel asked, frowning. Her tone was sharp, but the smile didn’t fade from Varkan’s face.

How could it? He had her boxed in like a chicken in a coop, surrounded by walls of stone. What threat did she pose, glaring at him like that from behind bars?

“I know it’s frustrating, but bear with it a little longer, my love. It’s all for your safety.”

Irel, being cautious by nature, understood the need for safety, but she still found her current appearance embarrassing. Slumping her shoulders, she fiddled with the stone bars. It was a compromise, really—Erich had left enough breathing room to allow some freedom, as a kind gesture.

“You look just like a kidnapped princess,” Varkan said, taking her hand through the bars. He flashed her one of those unnecessary, charming smiles.

“A captive beauty… how dangerous.”

His long eyelashes fluttered as he licked his lower lip, as if parched by a thirst she had awakened in him. In response, Irel returned a sweet smile and whispered back:

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Stop with the nonsense and go quickly. The sooner you do, the sooner I can get out of here,” Irel thought as she glared at Varkan. Her glare only seemed to deepen the look of ecstasy on his face.

“Did you know? Every time you look at me like that, I get chills.”

…No point in arguing. Fortunately, Irel’s suffering over her irrational fiancé didn’t last long.

Whoosh—!

In the distance, a signal streaked across the dim pre-dawn sky.

“Looks like Erich has started the operation,” Irel commented.

“Goodness. Time to get ready, then.”

Varkan grinned, looking as excited as a boy receiving a new toy. Silently wishing the barbarians good luck, Irel suddenly asked:

“By the way, why did you leave Lieutenant Harty here?”

Varkan’s orders seemed reasonable on the surface, but Irel had a keen sense that there was more to it. He had left Harty behind on purpose.

“You noticed?”

Varkan patted her hair affectionately through the bars, impressed.

“I left him here to flush out a traitor.”

“A traitor? Are you suspecting Lieutenant Harty?”

“To be precise, I believe it’s one of two people.”

“And who’s the other? Don’t tell me… Erich?”

Varkan simply smiled in response, leaving Irel even more confused.

‘Neither of them seemed like that type.’

Among the people she had met in the West, Erich and Lieutenant Harty had left the best impressions. They were the two pillars of virtue, so to speak. And yet, here they were, both under suspicion of being traitors.

“Isn’t it strange? That barbarians, scarcely holding on to their existence, could so perfectly outmaneuver the elite Western army?”

Their hit-and-run tactics were too perfect, as if someone inside the army was feeding them information.

Varkan was convinced there was a traitor within their ranks—someone who fought at the front lines and had close access to the lord’s inner circle.

With that reasoning, the list of suspects was short: Masaka Erich or Lieutenant Harty.

‘Judging by personal feelings, Erich seems more suspicious.’

Irel recalled her first encounter with him. Harty’s attitude toward her had been neutral, but Erich’s was clearly negative, bordering on hostile.

‘Still, he didn’t seem like a bad person.’

After all, he had even taken the time to put up this protective wall for her safety. She couldn’t definitively say who the traitor was.

“Why would they side with the barbarians, though? What could they possibly gain?”

“Well, who knows? Are they really siding with the barbarians?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m just suggesting that we question everything. For example… are these barbarians truly what they seem to be?”

There he goes again, speaking in riddles. Why does he always have to talk like this? Irel shot him a sullen look, but Varkan just shrugged, finally revealing his theory.

“I think the truth is… the barbarians are actually…”

“The royal defense forces pretending to be barbarians?” Irel finished for him.

“Exactly.”

Varkan’s eyes crinkled in amusement, clearly pleased that she’d pieced it together. He had suspected she would catch on.

They already had two major clues. One was the military supply markings they found near the barbarian base. The other was the presence of Masaka Drakal. And finally…

“Ruth Varel, who was killed, belonged to the reformist faction critical of the royal family.”

Irel spoke quietly.

“The lords who’ve held the border regions have always been loyal, conservative nobles. That way, the king could trust them enough to hand over independent military control.”

“That’s right. If I were king, I’d do the same,” Varkan agreed, his gaze approving.

“If he hadn’t kept it to himself, Ruth Varel was too honest for his own good. Every time his territory was attacked by the Khitan, he openly blamed the royal family.”

“So that’s why he was eliminated—before he could even become a border lord.”

Irel grimaced at the thought. She remembered when King Phenosos, before she left for the West, had said something along the lines of “a father will do anything for his child.”

If their theory was correct, the king’s wistful expression wasn’t for a loyal subject lost to misfortune. Instead, it was self-pity—mourning his own rule, where he’d been forced to eliminate even the son of a devoted noble. It made him exactly the type of person she found despicable.

“But if the ‘barbarians’ haven’t withdrawn even after Ruth Varel’s death…”

“It means there’s still more to eliminate,” Varkan whispered softly. There was no need to elaborate on who those targets were. The king had sent those he suspected of rebellion directly to the border.

“Namely, you and me.”

Varkan’s finger lazily moved between himself and Irel. King Phenosos’ “surprise” had once again lived up to expectations.

Not that Varkan intended to accept it quietly.

“The current situation is quite favorable. By shaking the ground and forcing them out of their hideout, whatever they planned is likely ruined.”

The lava eruption hadn’t been just a flashy show. Varkan knew well that the enemy couldn’t be given time to regroup.

“However, they probably still have one last trick up their sleeve.”

Considering King Phenosos’ cunning, like a coiled viper, that much was expected.

“So, don’t stray from my side. Not for a second.”

Varkan repeated his warning with emphasis, then clapped his hands together sharply.

“Now, enough fooling around. Shall we let you out?”

The walls surrounding Irel began to melt away, flowing like liquid. She frowned, realizing that Varkan had always intended to release her.

“Come now, my princess.”

Yet with that easy smile and outstretched hand, how could she stay angry?

“The traitor must be feeling anxious by now. Forced to flee their secret hideout, they’ve been driven to the edge.”

Varkan held her hand as he spoke. Meanwhile, Tarik Varel would be searching the empty barbarian base, and if any evidence was left behind, it would soon be found. With their swift action, time was entirely on their side.

“The desperate traitor is probably just waiting for the right moment to act. That’s why I left both Erich and Lieutenant Harty behind. If one of them is the spy, then soon…”

“One will stab the other. To open a path for the barbarians’ escape.”

Varkan nodded. There was no point in waiting here. The barbarians wouldn’t come, because the traitor, already aware of the plan, would divert them elsewhere.

“Well then, shall we go?”

Varkan’s voice was as relaxed as ever.

“To see who the traitor is.”

He wore the expression of a boy watching ants crawl through his hand, eager to observe how they moved.