Chapter 57
The mercenaries who were ambushed and killed were cremated and buried in the royal cemetery.
Only members of the royal family or commoners who had performed great deeds were granted the honor of being buried there.
To avoid causing public panic, the incident with the gunpowder and their deaths were not publicized. Instead, patrols within the city were discreetly reinforced.
Wakako and Liu Siruo went to pay their respects quietly. Wakako felt that everything about the royal family was different. Even the cemetery was meticulously arranged —there wasn’t a single weed in sight, and the tombstones were smooth and beautiful, almost dispelling the atmosphere of grief entirely.
But what was the point? The dead would never see it.
Liu Siruo gently placed a flower in front of the graves. “We will avenge them.”
Wakako was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, “But, Senior Sister, who should we seek revenge against?”
Behind each tombstone lay the heavy grief of the deceased’s family and companions, even if they were enemies.
Every drop of blood shed, every life lost on both sides of the conflict, would be met with someone’s heart-wrenching cries.
Whose fault was it? Everyone was simply doing their duty for their kingdom.
And what could the two kingdoms do? Could they truly reconcile, make peace, and completely share all the resources on the continent?
After so many years of conflict, who could guarantee that the other side wouldn’t betray them the next second, stabbing them in the back? If the leaders made the wrong decision, it would be their own people who suffered.
Moreover, even God wanted the two kingdoms to settle the final outcome. To say they “wanted” it wasn’t even accurate. They had no choice; once the arrow was loosed from the bow, there was no turning back.
Thanks to the Saint’s lie on the battlefield that day, the two kingdoms were no longer engaging in direct confrontation. They were competing through trials instead, which was a blessing in disguise.
Chen Mi, the girl who narrowly survived, was currently recovering in the royal palace, under the meticulous care of the best doctors. However, her left wrist had been blown off. No matter who tried, there was no way to make it grow back.
“Chen Mi has trained with a left-handed sword since she was a child.” Liu Siruo wasn’t close to the girl but had heard things from others. Something seemed to come to mind, and a touch of melancholy crossed her face. “Carol, too…”
Before Wakako joined, Carol had been the team’s main fighter. She was also left-handed but had been injured during a mission, leaving her unable to hold a weapon with her left hand for long periods. Since then, she rarely joined frontline battles and instead focused on training new recruits.
She always appeared cheerful about it. When others expressed sympathy, she would simply brush it off, saying it was like “early retirement.”
But even Wakako, slow as she was, could tell that when Carol stood aside, watching her train, there were moments when a look of longing and envy would flash in her eyes. It wasn’t regret, but a nostalgia for the days before her injury, when she was at the height of her power.
Who was really to blame for all of this?
…
Meanwhile, Tsukiyo was still relatively safe in the Kitagawa clan’s residence, but deciding whether to move her had become a difficult question.
The Eagle Kingdom’s forces had already arrived in the royal city and were difficult to track. At this point, whether they stayed put or left the city, they were at a disadvantage, with the enemy hidden in the shadows.
The Queen frowned and asked the servant in front of her, “Is there any news from Captain Hua?”
The attendant shook his head with a troubled expression.
Hua Yumu, and Albert had gone to track the Eagle Kingdom’s Crown Princess. Given their abilities, they should have made progress by now. However, there had been no news from them, leaving them to wonder if they had encountered difficulties.
The Saint had previously warned them that the Eagle Kingdom might possess an advantage they couldn’t match, so they couldn’t afford to remain passive. The Queen understood this reasoning, but no one had anticipated that it would be gunpowder.
Mios’ initial strategy was to delay, hoping that the Eagle Kingdom’s Crown Princess’s health would deteriorate, eventually succumbing to her illness and die. But now that the enemy had gunpowder, it was impossible they wouldn’t push for a quick and decisive victory. This development forced both sides into a corner.
The Queen personally went to the divine temple and knelt for an entire night, praying to God for permission to use gunpowder again. Yet, there was no response.
One of the muskets that had been destroyed many years ago remained in the royal palace, old and nearly unusable.
The Queen tried to retrieve it, wanting to show it to God.
But before she could even step into the Temple, despite the windless day, the porcelain vase placed before the statue of God suddenly crashed to the ground, shattering into countless pieces.
God’s intention was crystal clear – They did not allow it.
This proved that gunpowder belonged exclusively to the Eagle Kingdom.
The Queen’s expression was blank. Even though she had occupied this position for many years, weathered countless storms, a sense of helplessness inevitably crept into her heart.
With the power of gunpowder, no flesh and blood could stand a chance. If struck, the body would be blown apart along with the organs inside. Not even the strongest mercenaries could withstand it.
Yet, she couldn’t assign an entire army to protect Tsukiyo closely. Such a large-scale military mobilization, especially within the densely populated capital city, would be nearly impossible to keep secret.
Since the enemy had already infiltrated the city’s surroundings, they could easily pinpoint Tsukiyo’s location based on this information, rendering the decoys useless.
Strengthening patrols, meticulously checking the travel permits of those entering the city, inspecting all their belongings, and even conducting body searches if necessary were all basic measures that went without saying.
The most urgent question was whether to have Tsukiyo leave the city or remain within it. Both options seemed reasonable, but each carried its own risks.
The Queen sent someone to summon the Saint back to the palace for discussion but received only a letter with two words:
— Hold fast.
The ministers in the court exchanged bewildered glances, asking if the decision had been made. “Is Your Majesty certain you won’t discuss this further?”
The Saint’s guidance was undoubtedly important, but… this was a matter of great significance, and it was only fitting to discuss it thoroughly with everyone and weigh the pros and cons.
The Queen looked at the delicate handwriting in front of her, and it was as if she were back on that day, staring into Miki’s calm gaze. No matter what outrageous things she said, there was never a trace of mockery in her eyes.
“Ruijun, I’m betting everything I have,” she had said. “I hope you can trust me without hesitation. As long as I’m still here, this kingdom will stand.”
“Everything you have?”
Miki smiled faintly. “Yes.”
Perhaps it was because they had known each other since childhood that Ruijun understood what others might find cryptic.
After a moment of silence, Ruijun asked, “Are you talking about Wakako?”
A blush quickly spread across Miki’s cheeks.
The usually composed Saint displayed a rare shyness, like that of most noble ladies. She bit her lip and let out a barely audible “Mm-hmm.”
“If we lose, Wakako will die too,” Miki said softly. “So I have no way out. I can only fight with my back against the wall.”
Ruijun looked at that familiar eyes and suddenly been reminded of a time long ago.
When the Saionji clan and the royal family had arranged their marriage, Ruijun was not yet the Queen but the Crown Princess. And Miki, at that time, was just a little girl who had barely learned to walk.
Ruijun was much older than Miki. Most people would find it difficult to view a child as their future spouse, and she was no different.
However, Miki wasn’t like other children. At a young age, she had mastered royal etiquette, carrying herself with a natural grace and poise. She exuded the aura of a Saint, even as a child.
One year, Ruijun heard that Miki had taken on a new young guard from the Kitagawa clan. It wasn’t anything significant, but it was considered unusual for the Saint.
When Ruijun casually asked about it, Miki simply brushed it off, saying the guard was just a clumsy little fool and not worth mentioning. Yet, despite her dismissive words, a flicker of amusement lit up her eyes, revealing, if only for a moment, the unguarded innocence of a twelve-year-old.
Ruijun didn’t understand. A guard should be quick and agile, so why keep someone clumsy around? Wouldn’t it be more trouble than it was worth?
She came to understand later because she too met her own “clumsy little fool.”
It was a young noble girl on her first visit to the royal palace. During their first meeting, the girl had stepped hard on Ruijun’s foot, sending them both tumbling to the ground in an awkward mess. It was an embarrassing scene.
Afterward, the girl stood up, tears in her eyes, her face flushed red with shame, stammering out an incoherent apology.
She was far from “graceful” or “dignified,” completely lacking the elegance expected of a noble. She was clumsy, awkward, and terribly shy, but at that moment, Ruijun found her to be the most adorable girl she had ever seen. She wanted to gently stroke her hair, pat her back, and offer comforting words, hoping to see a smile return to that face.
That autumn, the girl named Qinghe married her and became her consort. Later, she became Ruijun’s queen.
What Ruijun didn’t say to Miki was that she, too, had no path of retreat. Her kingdom, her wife, her daughter… these were her everything.
The Queen gathered her thoughts. She didn’t offer further explanations to her confused ministers, simply stating, “There’s no need for further discussion. We will proceed as the Saint advised.”
They still hesitated, “But what if there are miscalculations…”
Years ago, Miki had entrusted Wakako, a servant from the Kitagawa clan, to Hua Yumu. Because the mercenaries were the Queen’s private army, directly under her command, Miki’s actions were essentially a request for Ruijun to protect her little fool.
It had been five, almost six years now.
Miki treated Wakako like her most treasured possession, yet she trusted Ruijun to keep her safe. Ruijun, in turn, was willing to place her faith in the Saint’s unique foresight.
The Queen made her final decision.
“I will bear the consequences.”
***
That very day, they learned that the Saint’s judgment had been right. The second convoy carrying the “Crown Princess” out of the city had also been ambushed.
This time, it happened in a nearby town, just outside the capital.
Having learned a painful lesson, the mercenaries were informed about the gunpowder and were thus extremely cautious and alert.
Every mercenary was a skilled professional. But even so, they didn’t believe they could withstand firearms—weapons that could inflict injuries from dozens of paces away. However, with their agility, even if they couldn’t fight head-on, escape was still possible.
The good news was that there were no casualties on their side this time. The bad news was that they got a clear look at the enemy’s weapons. They weren’t the outdated firearms from years past, but an improved version with greater destructive power and a longer range.
On their side, Mios was rich in mineral resources and had crafted sturdy yet lightweight metal armor. When worn, it could protect the chest and abdomen, reducing the impact by fifty to sixty percent, but that was all.
Fortunately, the royal armory still had a decent supply of such armor, and the Queen quickly ordered the new gear to be distributed, especially to the decoys who were taking the place of the real Crown Princess.
She also sent several sets to the Saint discreetly.
…
The night Wakako hung the armor in her room, she discovered that the Kitagawa estate was being watched.
