Chapter 72: False Saint

False Saint

Battle fatigue had finally caught up to Lansius. After the meeting with Sir Michael and Hugo concluded, he fell asleep on the daybed. However, it was not a peaceful rest; he found himself suddenly thrust back onto the battlefield in a dream.

The scene was vivid, with blackened men running and trampling over each other as flames chased after them. Lansius was startled awake, his body covered in sweat.

“My Lord?” Margo came to look after Lansius, pouring a drink into a cup and offering it to him.

“It’s nothing, just the heat, that’s all,” said Lansius, taking the cup of water and drinking it.

The water felt refreshing and Lansius sat on the daybed. He looked out the window and saw the sun still shining bright. “Where is Audrey and the staff?”

"Lady Audrey is meeting with Lady Felicity, and Sir Harold is tending to his men and the patrols," reported the page.

"Ah, I see," Lansius murmured, taking a deep breath. He then slowly put on his arm sling, using it to support his bandaged wrist.

“Do I have a visitor today?” Lansius asked.

“Lady Hannei, Lady Daniella, and Sir Michael will join us for supper.”

The last two were expected, but the first one wasn’t. “Hannei will join us?”

“A messenger from the castle told me so, saying: the Lady will return to Midlandia tomorrow, so she wishes to see My Lord today.”

“Hannei is leaving Korelia?” Lansius was surprised and pondered about the reason.

“It seems so, My Lord.” Margo didn’t have any more information.

Lansius rubbed his chin and relaxed his shoulder, saying, “Send a runner to the castle, say that I’ll meet her at the mansion’s garden when the sun is cooler.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

While Margo left on his errand, Lansius, left alone on the upper floor of the mansion, let out a deep sigh.

Audrey was learning about lady-in-waiting stuff from Felicity to prepare her for marriage. Meanwhile, Sterling was still confined in bed.

The cup-bearer, Cecile was in mourning. Moreover, Calub had informed Lansius and Cecile about her late father’s wishes.

Lansius had seen the younger daughter, Claire, at the mass funeral, and felt saddened. He rested the back of his head on the couch-like daybed and just stared at the ceiling.

“Callahan, forgive me,” he uttered, despite knowing that Callahan would likely waved it off and smiled at him.

The thought lessened the pain, but the loss was still fresh.

He, of all people... one of the most capable people I know.

To Lansius, it was a terrible blow. And to think that he had just talked and discussed matters with the mage knight who had done it was nothing short of absurd.

However, he knew that Callahan would have advised him to put on his facade. A conqueror must put his goal above his emotions.

The man had taught Lansius so much and even put himself in harm's way to protect him.

Lansius felt the sting in his eyes and whispered, "I'll do my best to take care of your daughters. I'll find suitable husbands for Claire and Cecile if she doesn't want Calub."

However, the image of Callahan in his mind seemed to frown. "I guess Calub is a good candidate for a husband," Lansius then chuckled at his own words.

The realization that he shared this burden with Calub made it easier.

Slowly, the feeling of guilt ebbed away. Interestingly, only afterward did he realize that Claire reminded him of Tanya. Lansius had never noticed it with Cecile, but somehow Claire's expression invoked memories of his little sister, and a wave of memories from Bellandia flooded his consciousness.

He missed his family and wondered how they fared now in Midlandia.

Lansius let out a sigh, hoping that Bengrieve would honor his part of the bargain and rescue them. Remembering his benefactor, he rose and took another cup of water from the table. With a letter to write, he strode to his room, pushed the door open, leaving it ajar to help with air circulation, and sat down.

Taking his quill pen and ink, Lansius wrote a rough report about his victory. He inquired about the succession crisis in Midlandia and pleaded for information about his family’s whereabouts. In addition, he crafted a more official letter pertaining to grain and horse trade between Midlandia and Korelia.

Lansius finished his letters and sealed them with wax.

When the day grew cooler near evening, he met Hannei in the garden.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

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The Lord and his esteemed guest strolled through the garden, engaged in conversation. Although expansive and vibrant with greenery, the garden bore signs of neglect. The grass grew unevenly, and the shrubs sprouted haphazardly.

"Are you sure I can't convince you otherwise?" Lansius asked as they walked.

"Well, aside from the war, it's been fun in here, but I just want to go home," Hannei said while looking at the medicinal flowers in the garden. "Besides, I'm also accompanying Sterling."

Lansius nodded. He had heard from Dietrich that the squire's injury was serious, although not life-threatening. Thus, Lansius had agreed for him to recuperate in the Healer's Guild in Midlandia. "I really can't thank you enough... I hope he can recover fully."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I feel the same way too. Rest assured, I count Sterling as my acquaintance,” she replied as they reached the small gazebo.

“Hannei,” his voice tensed up. “I’m worried about the situation in Midlandia.”

She giggled as she sat on the wooden benches. “It’s the battle of the nobles. I’m just nobody. I’ll keep my head low and live in the shadows.”

“But you’re a mage, Hannei. People would—”

“A retired explorer, Lans. Grave digger they say. Nothing more,” she cut in.

Lansius exhaled deeply but eventually nodded his head. He respected her stance and wouldn’t push it further. He pulled an envelope from his pocket and gave it to her.

“What’s this?”

“A letter for Lord Bengrieve,” he explained. “Only give it to him if the situation is safe.”

She accepted it and kept it in her travel purse. Then Lansius handed her thirty silver coins.

“Lans, you shouldn’t have to”

“Please take it for snacks,” he insisted.

“Merci, merci bien.” Hannei put the coins in a different purse.

“So, what about Tia?” he asked about the little girl with the broken ankle that she had healed and cared for.

“Ah yes, there’s a school in Midlandia that I want her to attend. Oh, I’ll need your permission for that.”

Tia and her deceased parents were subjects of Korelia, bound by law, and she needed permission to leave town. Lansius had heard about the school for the commoners and landless gentry from when he was in Toruna. “The school for the commoners and landless gentry?”

“Yes, that one,” Hannei replied excitedly. It was one of the first non-noble schools in Imperium. Calub was one of its sponsors.

She continued, “This world is changing, Lans... There are a lot more landless gentries now than when I came to this world ten years ago. Intellectuals, guild members with bright ideas, entrepreneurs; they’re standing on their own without nobility or farmland to support them.”

Seeing her so spirited, Lansius smiled. Calub and Hannei identified with this burgeoning new social class. The term “landless” was a mockery from the nobility, but they wore it proudly.

“Well, permission granted, but you might want to make a letter so I can wax stamp it,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you,” she smiled brightly. “Oh, I want to hug you, but I don’t want people to misunderstand.”

Lansius chuckled. “Let’s not do that. I don’t want to make Audrey jealous.”

She giggled. “Good, be a responsible husband. Don’t just treat a wife like a baby-making machine.”

Lansius scoffed at the remark while Hannei grinned widely.

“Anyway, Lans, how’s your amnesia? Are you still not remembering even your name?” she asked, looking at him warmly.

Her question stunned Lansius for a moment. “I actually stopped trying. Too much going on, you know,” he admitted.

“I guess so with the war and others,” Hannei nodded while dangling her feet freely.

“How about your name?” he asked.

“What about mine?” she asked, puzzled.

“Hannei, you haven’t given me your real name,” he reminded her.

The blonde giggled with flushed cheeks. “Say what? If you remember your real name, then we’ll trade names. How about it?”

“I just remembered, my name is D’Artagnan,” Lansius declared with a gentlemanly pose.

“No, you’re not!” she snorted, trying but failing to stifle her laugh.

“No, seriously, that’s my real name,” he insisted, resisting laughter.

His antics made her laugh until she was gasping for breath.

The cool sunset breeze swept by them. Behind them, the mansion’s many windows were beginning to be illuminated by chandeliers and fires.

“Oh, Lans… You seem okay. Audrey is worried about you. Earlier, she said you eat so little and don’t get enough sleep.”

“She’s exaggerating things,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m doing fine.”

“Yeah, you look okay... Anyway, since you’re about to wed, let me tell you a few things about the females of this world.”

“What about them?” This piqued his interest.

As the wind breezed through, Hannei brushed her long hair from her face and said, “Do you know that a woman only bleeds once or twice each year?”

“Oh, now that you mention it, I did suspect something about it,” Lansius recalled. When he lived on the road with Stefi, she never seemed to experience one.

Hannei let out a small sigh. “It’s quite enviable, really.”

Lansius understood her plight. For a woman, getting a period in a world without disposable pads was problematic.

“Anyway, if you want to have babies fast, you need to ask her about it so you’ll know her fertility window,” she advised.

“Umm, okay…”

This started to feel like a visit to the pregnancy doctor.

“Or you can just give her a good fuck all year round,” the doctor just suggested something correct but inappropriate.

“Eww, this French girl is so vulgar,” he exclaimed, looking grossed out.

Hannei burst into laughter and only managed to speak after taking several deep breaths. “A-ah, and one last thing,” she said while still getting her breath back. “The pregnancy takes more time. I believe it’s a whole year.”

“Eh, not the usual nine months? Now, this is new...” Lansius pondered.

“Yup, it’s because the humans in this world at one time in their history intermingled freely with the elves. And also, they’re descendants of a shapeshifting dragon,” she reminded him.

“Ah, the Ancients who begot the Grand Progenitor,” he nodded, having read the lore.

“Yup, technically it’s them, the half-god half-dwarven who revitalized the failing elven bloodline. Humans are their offspring. So you’re familiar with the mythology?” she asked.

“Yes, I read the book,” he said without sounding smug, though he couldn’t help but ponder why what she said was somewhat different from what he had read.

Half-god half-dwarven...?

“I’m pleased to know that you’re well educated, my medieval baron,” Hannei quipped out of the blue.

Lansius wouldn’t let her get away with that and quipped back, “I heard Tia reads the alphabet better than you?”

Her mouth was agape, and her eyes were wide with surprise. She hadn’t expected such a sharp roast and couldn’t resist retaliating, “You black-haired imp, how dare you! I’m your senior here.”

Lansius started to chuckle at her reaction.

“I can read, just not the common text,” she said, still going at it, defending her wounded pride.

He held back his laugh until the mage laughed first. They shared a hearty, unrestrained laugh. Later, with cheeks reddened from laughter, they walked back to the mansion.

“So, when will you depart?” he asked.

“Tomorrow morning, I can’t let the wounded wait any longer. Sorry for leaving while in mourning.”

“That’s ok. I’m sure everybody understands. We put priority on the living over the dead.”

She exhaled deeply. “Look at you, Lans... So comfortably acting as lord, even about to get wed... Oh, so sorry that I can’t come to your wedding.”

“Well, it’s not like you can help it,” he said it lightly.

She smiled and looked up at the sky, finding it poetic. “Here we are, two from planet Earth who have made ourselves comfortable in this different world.”

“I hope our friends and families on Earth are doing fine,” Lansius remarked.

Hannei obviously found it funny because she giggled after hearing it. She stopped and turned to face Lansius. “Remember to take care of Felis for me.”

“Consider it done,” he replied with confidence.

“But don’t yield to temptation.”

“... Excuse me?” Lansius protested in a high voice.

The French girl laughed with tears in her eyes and ran away from Lansius, her blonde hair shimmering in the golden sunset. Their chat today had been unusually amusing; a contrast to their previous conversations, which were usually filled with doom and gloom.

Time also changes all of us, eh?

Lansius smiled at the thought and slowly walked to the mansion where a feast was waiting.

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***

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Ten days after the victory in Korelia.

After a long journey through the northern corridor with the assistance of the nomads, the punitive force finally arrived at Korimor. Deputy Hugo and Sir Michael were leading fifty cavalrymen and a two-hundred-strong newly formed dragoon regiment, along with the nomadic horsemen.

"The castle sits on top of a hill, approachable from the northern side," Lady Daniella informed them from atop her horse. She was also present as a guest and advisor.

Hugo nodded, pondering about where to make camp.

“Double the scouts, but try to look inconspicuous if possible,” Michael ordered his lieutenant, who in turn ordered his riders to fan out.

Hugo wiped the dust from his face and gazed at the one-eyed knight. “We need to block the castle and city gate, so we must camp at the northern side.”

“It’s a big hill, we’re going to be stretched thin,” warned Michael. Unlike Korelia, Korimor Hill was taller and denser with trees.

“Well, the nomads’ horses and numbers will hopefully make us appear bigger than we really are,” hoped Hugo.

“Then let's prepare for a siege,” declared Michael.

“The old-fashioned way,” quipped Hugo.

“Indeed,” Michael agreed. His lieutenant quickly arranged for their men to dismount and prepare to assume formation. They planned to approach with loud noises, flashy colors, and a grand march right up to the enemy’s front door.

With Lansius' plan in place, they felt confident about winning the siege. However, unbeknownst to them, they weren't the only ones making a move in Lowlandia.

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