To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 159

Varkan, having said his part, took Irel’s hand as a signal to leave, allowing Tarik some time to think.

But just as they were about to go, Irel stopped and turned to Tarik, her expression serious.

“I know it’s not really my place to say this,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “but I would like to say one thing, my lord.”

Tarik, though weary and burdened, didn’t dismiss her. He looked at her with tired eyes, giving her the space to speak.

“What is it?” he asked, curiosity tinged with resignation.

Taking a deep breath, Irel continued, “I deeply regret the loss of your eldest son. It’s a tragic and painful thing. But, my lord, you still have another son. Please, when you make your decision, don’t forget that.”

At this, Tarik glanced toward Joshua, who had been by his side all along, but it was as if he was truly seeing him for the first time in a long while. The grief over Luke’s death had clouded his mind, overshadowing everything else, including his surviving son.

Joshua had always been there, standing by his father, trying in his own way to help. Even though he had pursued diplomacy, a path that hadn’t immediately proven useful in the harsh borderlands, he had remained loyal. Unlike Luke, who was groomed from birth to be the next Warden, Joshua had always seemed insufficient in comparison. But now, the only one left was Joshua.

For the first time, Tarik truly realized this, and the resolve in his eyes slowly hardened.

***

As they prepared to leave, Joshua, with his striking good looks, turned to Irel, a soft, wistful smile on his face. He asked with a tone that sounded almost like a lover parting with someone dear, “When will we see each other again?”

Irel was caught off guard by his words, feeling the intense gaze of Varkan next to her. The situation was delicate, and she needed to act fast.

“You’ll see me at my wedding!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “I’ll make sure to send you an invitation.”

“…I see. I’ll be waiting, then,” Joshua replied, a little crestfallen but clearly taking her words to heart.

Phew. Crisis averted. Irel mentally sighed in relief. She had managed to defuse the tension just in time, saving Joshua in more ways than one. You don’t even know it, but I just saved your life, she thought with a wry smile as she latched onto Varkan’s arm.

Varkan, sensing the amusement in the situation, chuckled softly, but he allowed it to pass without issue. With a nod, he offered his parting words. “May the West always prosper. And give my regards to Lord Varel.”

Erich stepped forward to respond on Joshua’s behalf. “Of course. The West will not forget the help you’ve provided, Ha Mash.”

The suspicion that once filled Erich’s eyes had vanished completely. Having seen who the real enemy was, he now regarded Varkan with a newfound respect, if not trust.

“You’ve done well,” Varkan said with a smirk, extending his hand for a handshake. Erich looked down at the offered hand with some hesitation, recalling the first time he had shaken Varkan’s hand—right before he had been thrown into the chaos of the Khitan battlefield.

“I promise, this is just a farewell this time. You can trust me,” Varkan said with a playful grin, which only made the situation seem more suspicious.

Erich’s eyes narrowed slightly, but after a moment, Irel gave him a reassuring nod. With a reluctant sigh, Erich took Varkan’s hand, only for Varkan to pull him into an unexpected embrace.

“I’ll be waiting for your call,” Varkan whispered, his voice low and intense as he patted Erich’s shoulder.

As he stepped back, Erich could only think to himself, How did I end up in this man’s web?

***

The night before they left, Varkan had called Erich to a private meeting just outside the city walls. To Erich’s surprise, Varkan offered him a cigarette.

‘Sorry, I don’t smoke,’ Erich had declined politely.

Varkan, finding this amusing, laughed for a while before sobering and saying, ‘Neither do I.’

‘Then… what are you smoking now?’ Erich asked, puzzled.

‘A nicotine-free cigarette,’ Varkan replied casually, lighting another and offering it again. ‘It’s fine. Go ahead.’

Caught off guard, Erich accepted it. Though he didn’t smoke, he took a puff out of politeness and found the sweet, mellow flavor surprisingly pleasant—reminiscent of the candy he used to enjoy as a child.

‘It tastes… sweet,’ Erich noted.

‘Only the best for you,’ Varkan said with a knowing smile.

As Erich finished the cigarette, Varkan wasted no time getting to the point.

‘When your assignment in the West ends, come to the capital.’

‘The capital? Why would I…’

‘Don’t play dumb,’ Varkan interrupted, his tone firm. ‘You knew this conversation was coming.’

He exhaled a stream of smoke, his red lips curving into a smile. Did you think I invited you out here to chat about dessert?

In that moment, Erich understood the game Varkan had been playing all along. There was no escaping it.

‘Yes, I suspected as much. And I’m sure you’ve already guessed my answer,’ Erich replied, his expression growing more serious.

Varkan, his eyes sharp with amusement, stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette and said, ‘I’m not exactly a man of honor or justice.’

‘…’ Erich remained silent, knowing there was more to come.

Varkan’s words lingered with Erich long after their conversation ended. “Justice needs power to be enforced.” Varkan had said it with that unmistakable air of arrogance, promising to provide that power. Standing on the fortress walls under the vast desert night, Erich had watched Varkan’s crimson hair flutter in the wind, momentarily captivated by the sight.

A vague sense of inevitability gnawed at Erich. Something deep inside told him that, eventually, he would follow that man’s path. Varkan had given him time, but Erich knew there was no real hesitation on his part.

“…Fine,” Erich had finally agreed, and thus, an unspoken pact had been formed between them. Under the deepening moonlight, a strange camaraderie had emerged.

Curious, Erich had asked, “So why do you smoke nicotine-free cigarettes?”

Looking at Varkan, someone who seemed to live on the edge, who thrived in chaos, it was hard to imagine him caring about something like that. He expected an answer dripping with sarcasm, but instead, Varkan had looked at the cigarette with a fond smile.

“Oh, this?” He glanced at the extinguished cigarette between his fingers. “I’ve got a beautiful wife to live a long life for.”

It was such a ridiculous, doting expression that Erich couldn’t help but be dumbfounded.

“So, this is the man I’ve sworn to follow.”

Recalling that moment, Erich shook his head, his gaze tinged with both skepticism and amusement. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny that his heart beat faster with anticipation. His remaining time in the West didn’t seem quite so dull anymore.

***

As their farewell with Joshua and the Western forces approached, Joshua had a large box carried over by his attendants. The box was filled with letters, handmade wooden crafts, and simple but hearty crops like corn and potatoes.

“These are gifts from the people of the domain,” Joshua explained with a gentle smile. “They wanted to express their gratitude. It’s not much, but please accept it.”

The people of the West were truly grateful for the help Varkan and his forces had provided. In the few days they’d stayed, they had nearly eradicated the Khitan plaguing the Ricador Mountains. For the inhabitants of Na Miev, this meant a few years of much-needed peace from the relentless beasts that terrorized them.

As Joshua spoke, Yan Louis curiously picked up a small doll from the box. It was crudely but lovingly made, with a body crafted from white cloth and a head of soft wool for hair. It bore a striking resemblance to him.

Seeing this, Phaesus, who had been trying to appear disinterested, couldn’t help but glance at the box, clearly wondering if there was one that resembled him as well.

Varkan, amused by his subordinates’ reactions, smiled easily and said, “It seems my men are pleased. We’ll accept these gifts, then.”

Relieved by Varkan’s gracious response, Irel couldn’t help but notice Jin, who was busy chatting with the soldiers and attendants of Na Miev’s fortress.

“Leaving so soon, Jin? We’ll miss you!”

“When will we see you again? Ah, I’m so sad!”

“Here, take this for your journey.”

It was almost absurd how Jin, who had been sent to gather intelligence, had managed to become such a beloved figure in the fortress. Attendants and knights alike crowded around him, giving him farewell gifts—boiled eggs, dried fruits, and other provisions stuffed into his pockets until he looked like a snowman.

Watching the scene unfold, Irel chuckled to herself. “He was supposed to gather information, but it seems he ended up being too good at it.”

No matter how much Jin tried to refuse, the fortress residents insisted on showering him with tokens of their affection.

“Well, isn’t this something?” Jin said with a laugh as he returned, now laden with gifts. His jovial presence seemed to lighten the mood, and the farewell scene became a warm, pleasant affair.

Joshua, standing with a serene expression, spoke once more before they left. “May the winds of the West guide you back to us one day, honored guests. Until then, we’ll be waiting.”

His words were calm and full of grace, his expression now relaxed, as if he had made peace with the burdens he carried. He still had responsibilities weighing heavily on his shoulders, but Joshua had steadied himself. He would rise again.

“Goodbye, Joshua,” Irel said, her voice kind as she smiled at him. “Take care of yourself.”

Irel waved a light goodbye to Joshua, her genuine sentiment lingering in her final farewell. As she climbed into the carriage, she noticed the supplies and gifts from the people of the West neatly packed in the back. Although they hadn’t specifically done anything for the townspeople, the gesture was heartwarming.

“The people here are quite generous,” Varkan commented as he followed her into the carriage. His thoughts seemed to align with hers—usually, people burdened by constant foreign invasions and monstrous threats grew hard and wary. But these people still had enough warmth to offer gifts.

“I think coming here was a good decision,” Irel said, reflecting on their time in the West.

“Everything but one thing,” Varkan responded with a slight smirk.

“Hmm? What’s that?” Irel asked, slightly nervous about what he might say. It wasn’t often that something displeased him enough to mention it.

“Well, receiving all this gratitude from people…” he began.

“Receiving it?” she prompted.

“…It makes me feel too righteous. It’s unsettling, as if I’ve been living my life all wrong,” he said, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

Irel rolled her eyes at his statement, the confusion and annoyance clear on her face. What is he even talking about? His logic was often impossible to follow.

“Just kidding,” Varkan said with a laugh, reaching out to smooth the small furrow between her brows with his finger. “Coming here was definitely worth it. We gained a lot.”

True to his pragmatic nature, Varkan evaluated the outcome based on the tangible benefits. The gratitude of the people meant little to him; what mattered were the results.

At that moment, Irel couldn’t help but think that even King Phenosos, who had tried to send Varkan to his death, had inadvertently helped. Irel shrugged, smiling at Varkan’s blunt assessment.

Despite his harshness, Irel knew that Varkan’s efforts had genuinely helped the West. With the “barbarians” exposed and dealt with, the region could now focus on reinforcing its defenses against the Khitan without being distracted by other threats.

‘The barbarian issue is finally resolved. They can now focus more on guarding the Khitan,’ she thought. After their identities had been exposed, the remaining “barbarians” had nowhere to go. Even if they returned to the capital, King Phenosos would have them killed for their failure.

Lord Tarik Varel had imprisoned the survivors in the fortress’s dungeons. Whether he chose to execute them for revenge or use them as slaves to rebuild the West was his decision to make.

“Oh, by the way,” Irel suddenly remembered, “Did you ever get an answer from Lord Varel?”

She recalled the offer Varkan had made to Tarik, wondering if the Warden had ever responded. Judging by the farewell gathering, things seemed to have gone well, but Tarik’s absence during the final moments lingered in her mind.

Tarik had been loyal for so long, and it wouldn’t be easy for him to accept that the path he had walked was a mistake. He might even choose to stay loyal to the king, clinging to his ideals. What if he reported us to the king instead? Irel worried.

Varkan, however, smiled as if there was no doubt in his mind.

“Oh, of course I got my answer.”

He pulled something out and held it up for her to see—a large insignia made of bronze and emerald.

“This is…” Irel trailed off, eyes widening as she realized what it was.