Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 71: Princess, Can We Talk? (2)

Inside the iron bars, Malion, his face flushed red, tore at his hair and screamed.

“What the hell did you do, broooother…!”

“What did I do.”

“Nooo!”

…There were too many things to point out!

Malion’s words choked in his throat.

Let’s set aside the attitude and sarcasm he showed to the princess for now.

‘What the hell is “Fabione,” what is that even supposed to mean?’

He had really thought his brother came up with some kind of brilliant plan, but that was what he had to offer?

To put it bluntly, what if the roles were reversed?

Wouldn’t even need to think about it…

“I’m looking forward to it, seeing what kind of punishment you all receive.”

At that moment, Benjamin let out a scoffing chuckle and spoke.

Malion adjusted his glasses, his expression turning a bit pitiful as he cautiously asked,

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You’ll be punished for insulting the imperial family. If you're lucky, prison. If you’re not…”

Benjamin drew his thumb across his neck.

With his menacing face and eye patch, the gesture made the atmosphere even more brutal.

“……”

Malion’s body stiffened completely.

“Mikkelsen, looks like this is it for us.”

“Brother Beryyyyl…”

The Maw mercenaries crouching in the back either bawled their eyes out or stared vacantly into the void as if resigned.

“Oh, come on, quit your whining already. I’m telling you, it’s fine. The princess will be back soon and let us out.”

“Keep dreaming.”

Deputy Benjamin sneered.

“And who says so? What if she doesn’t? What if this ends up disgracing the whole family?!”

Malion screamed in despair.

But Hardin still stood with his arms crossed, a relaxed expression on his face.

“I don’t think she’s that foolish.”

“What did you say?”

“……”

Malion shot back, and Benjamin frowned.

Just as the commotion reached its peak—

“Benjamin.”

At the chilling voice from the side, everyone turned to look and saw Princess Medeia standing with her knights.

Benjamin greeted the princess with a satisfied smile.

“Have you finished your deliberation? Then, shall we proceed with the punishment for these fools—”

“Let them go.”

“…Excuse me?”

For a moment, Deputy Benjamin wore a blank expression and asked again.

“Release them. I’ve decided to accept that man’s proposal.”

“But Lady Medeia, if you do that…”

“……”

Medeia silently stared at Benjamin.

She merely looked at him, but something resolute could be felt from those crimson eyes.

“Ah… Understood.”

In the end, Deputy Benjamin bowed, looking troubled.

Hardin slightly turned his head and grinned.

“See? Told you.”

“……”

This… really worked?

Malion and the Maw mercenaries all stared wide-eyed.

---

Inside the fortress, along the path lined with small and large tents and scattered campfires—

Princess Medeia was crossing the area with her knights.

Beside her, Deputy Benjamin asked with a bewildered expression,

“Are you really accepting those guys? No matter how I look at it, I just don’t understand…”

In truth, not only Benjamin, but all the knights found it strange to even try to understand.

It was already suspicious enough that they suddenly showed up here, but for Medeia to accept such a rude man who dared to request Fabione as a price—there was no reason she should.

At his words, Medeia closed her eyes tightly.

‘A trap…’

How did he know about that?

Or… was it just a wild guess?

That single sentence from the man who claimed to be a descendant of Varlach Daphne—

It lodged itself in Medeia’s chest like a thorn.

She simply couldn’t ignore his proposal.

“Wouldn’t it be better to reconsider one more time? We’re already short on food, and if we accept them too, it might worsen the situation.”

“Even if we do, we’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean by that…?”

“The end result of drying up and dying in this coffin doesn’t change.”

“……”

Just as an awkward expression appeared on Benjamin’s face, a loud voice rang from behind.

“Hey, Princess, are we there yet? It’s cold out here. And we’re hungry too!”

“Brother, what are you saying! Please, just stay quiet!”

When Benjamin slightly turned his head, he saw Hardin Daphne waving and walking behind them with his men.

Medeia watched that scene with a complicated gaze and murmured softly,

“Now that we’ve come this far, the only thing left is to struggle.”

---

A short while later, Deputy Benjamin lifted the entrance flap of a tent and said,

“This is where you’ll be staying from now on.”

Mice, which had been huddling inside for warmth, scurried out.

As the interior of the tent finally came into view, both Hardin and Malion, who were bending over to peek inside, furrowed their brows.

“Hm…”

There were holes everywhere, the stench of mold was overwhelming, and mysterious stains and bluish blood traces were scattered about.

It looked like a place where ghosts would love to appear—no exaggeration, it was anything but decent.

Hardin asked with a disgruntled look,

“…Was it always like this?”

“Among what’s left in the fortress, this is one of the better ones.”

“Ahaha, is that so? Thank you so much.”

Malion forced a smile, while Hardin exhaled sharply through his nose and muttered,

“Some hospitality for guests offering to help…”

“What did you say?”

“Ah, nothing at all, Sir Knight. Hahaha… My brother here often talks to himself like that.”

At that moment, Princess Medeia, standing behind them, crossed her arms and spoke.

A voice colder than firm—like ice.

“You seem to be mistaken. Know your position before you open your mouth.”

“Our position?”

Hardin asked casually, without a hint of tension, prompting Benjamin to grind his teeth and speak instead.

“No one here trusts any of you… So if you even show the slightest hint of suspicious behavior, we won’t stand by and watch.”

At that moment, Benjamin and the two knights beside him shot deadly glares in unison.

“Oh dear, how scary. Haha, of course, I’ll be careful with you knights watching.”

Hardin turned his head again and glanced around at the nearby tents.

‘Well, looks like it’s the same situation elsewhere too.’

Dozens of tents, patched up so many times they looked like rags, came into view.

Quite a few weren’t being used by soldiers but by refugees.

The situation didn’t look good at all.

‘Might as well call this a refugee camp.’

Even if it was a border fortress, this was where a princess was stationed—what a miserable state.

Honestly, it was embarrassing to even call this place a fortress.

Hardin scratched his head and asked,

“It’s been a while since the last supply shipment came through, hasn’t it?”

“That’s none of your damn busi—”

Benjamin frowned and was about to answer when—

“Never came. Not even once.”

Princess Medeia, who had been watching from behind, cut in.

“Not once?”

“Yes. We’ve requested it several times, but not a single supply shipment has ever arrived.”

“I knew it was strange. Still, with the princess here, how could supplies not arrive?”

Medeia crossed her arms and spoke,

“One time, they were supposedly plundered by bandits mid-route. Another time, the entire caravan simply vanished. Like ghosts.”

“Then I guess something else will go wrong next time too.”

“……”

Malion, standing nearby, glanced nervously between the two, his lips parting.

‘I have no idea what they’re talking about…’

Hardin scratched his chin and asked again,

“Hmmm… What if you pull some troops and bring in supplies yourselves?”

“That’s impossible.”

Medeia turned her head toward the fortress gate.

“Fire! Fire!”

“Gyaaaah!”

From the watchtower, soldiers were loosing arrows and screaming.

The Frost Ghouls were still pressing in.

‘So if they move troops, the whole place collapses.’

Well, that’s pretty much what he expected.

Hardin let out a deep sigh and said,

“Phew… Guys, unpack the bags.”

“Yessir!”

As if they’d been waiting for the order, everyone began shoving their carried luggage into the tent.

Perhaps because the princess was watching, they kept stealing cautious glances at her as they moved.

Just as the unpacking was wrapping up—

“All done.”

As Hardin clapped his hands to shake off the dust—

Grrrrgle!

His stomach roared like a starving beggar.

Hardin pouted his lips, then gently rubbed his stomach with one hand and asked,

“Hey, you’ll feed us too, right?”

“Of course. All of you will be treated equally as members of the fortress. Be grateful for Her Highness’s generosity.”

Benjamin spoke with firm intensity in his eyes.

“Oooh, how generous.”

“Follow me. I’ll get your rations.”

“Right, right.”

First things first, let’s eat.

With hopeful expressions, Hardin’s group followed behind Benjamin.

---

Shortly after, at the center of the outpost—

Crackle! Snap!

Around campfires lit in various spots, soldiers were gathered in small groups.

And in the middle of them all…

“……”

Hardin blinked at the sight of a single potato, barely the size of a rat’s dropping, in a small pouch.

It wasn’t even boiled—hard as a rock—and had purple sprouts growing out of it.

“Uh, Deputy Benjamin?”

“What.”

“This is the whole meal?”

“Yes.”

Crunch! Crunch!

Deputy Benjamin chomped down on the potato like it was an apple. When Hardin looked around, other soldiers and knights were casually chewing on theirs too.

Hardin furrowed his brows.

‘What are these guys, wild boars? How can they eat raw potatoes like that…’

They called it the princess’s grace.

That grace… why was it so tiny and adorable?

Hardin genuinely worried they might starve to death at this rate.

“Uugh, this is so bitter, I can’t swallow it, Brother Beryl.”

“More than that… I feel like I’ll get sick if I eat this.”

Even the ever-hungry Maw mercenaries were grimacing as they forced the potatoes down.

Honestly, it wasn’t a pleasant sight.

‘This is serious.’

Hardin sighed, repeatedly gripping and releasing the potato in his hand, when—

“You’re not going to eat that potato?”

“No. Doesn’t really appeal to me. Want it?”

Princess Medeia looked down at Hardin and asked.

“Give it to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Thud.

Medeia snatched the potato Hardin offered, glanced around for a moment, and then walked over toward a small boy, around ten years old, with a shaved head. Without a word, she tossed the potato in his direction.

The boy glanced around nervously, then slowly picked up the potato and brought it to his mouth.

It was then—

Thwack!

A woman sitting nearby grabbed the boy’s arm and hurriedly approached, bowing deeply as she returned the potato.

“I-I’m so sorry, Your Highness! H-here’s the potato!”

“It’s fine. I just threw it away because I wasn’t hungry.”

“Then…”

“Eat it, throw it away—do as you please.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

As the woman bowed repeatedly, Medeia glanced at her feet and asked,

“Is the frostbite any better?”

“F-frostbite?”

Suddenly, the woman flinched and looked up in surprise.

“I heard your frostbite was quite severe?”

“Ah, yes! Thanks to the soldiers’ care, I recovered without any serious problems.”

“That’s good. Off you go, then.”

“Th-thank you so much!”

As Medeia waved her hand, the woman bowed repeatedly and disappeared with the little boy.

Hardin, who had been watching intently, tilted his head.

‘Huh, that’s unusual.’

Would a royal usually remember something like a commoner’s frostbite?

Considering she was in a situation where she could barely take care of herself, seeing her look after refugees like that gave Hardin a strange feeling.

‘Well, not that it’s any of my business.’

Hardin scratched the bridge of his nose and looked around.

From the soldiers to the knights, none looked like they had any meat on their bones—most were just skin and bones.

Given that they were eating meals like this, it was no surprise.

‘It’s a miracle they’re still alive.’

Hardin scratched his cheek and let out a deep sigh.

…This place might be tougher than he thought.

Supplies weren’t coming, monsters were constantly attacking, and the number of refugees to feed didn’t seem small.

“Hardin Daphne.”

“Yes?”

When Hardin lifted his head, he saw Medeia standing before him with her arms crossed.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“My plan?”

“You said you’d help me return to the Imperial Capital. I’m curious what exactly your plan is.”

“Ah… well.”

A plan—yes, he had one.

But where was he supposed to start explaining it?

As Hardin hesitated in thought—

“We need support!”

“There are too many of them!”

Urgent cries rang out from the watchtower at the edge of the fortress.

“Huh?”

“What’s going on?”

As Hardin and the Maw mercenaries looked around in confusion—

“Damn it!”

“Shit!”

The soldiers and knights of the base shot to their feet like lightning and rushed up the wooden stairs installed throughout the base.

“What’s going on all of a sudden?”

As Hardin tilted his head in confusion, Medeia drew her sword and spoke.

“You lot, go help. Now.”

“Us too?”

“You’ll see once you get there.”

Thud-thud-thud!

Medeia immediately scaled the wooden stairs and, scanning the battlefield ahead, shouted out commands.

“Concentrate fire at the gate! Meheren, Rotian—go east! Fajad, Roten—west!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

In an instant, the knights scattered and leapt over the wall.

– Kieeeee!

– Grrrrrrrr…

From outside the fortress, the cries and wails of Frost Ghouls rang out in turn.

It was loud enough to make their ears ache.

The Maw mercenaries wore bewildered expressions.

‘How many are there now?’

Just an hour ago, they’d killed nearly a thousand Frost Ghouls…

And yet more were still coming?

As everyone hesitated in disbelief, Hardin quietly drew his sword and said,

“What are you doing? Let’s go.”

“R-right!”

Thud-thud-thud!

Finally, Hardin and the Maw mercenaries bolted after the knights and climbed the stairs.

And when they peeked over the fortress wall—

Their eyes went wide.

“What the…?”

“This is insane…”

Out in the snowy field, beyond the raging blizzard—

Twice as many Ghouls as before were flooding in endlessly.

There were so many, it was impossible to take them all in at once.

‘What’s going on? We killed a ton earlier.’

‘How did their numbers multiply so quickly?’

Even for Frost Ghouls, known for their swarming numbers, this felt wrong—unnaturally excessive.

Hardin nudged the stunned mercenaries and said,

“What are you waiting for? Move!”

“Huh?”

“We have to wipe them out before we can do anything else.”

“……”

Everyone’s jaws dropped.

They just finished a massive battle—and now they had to fight again?

Their faces twisted in despair, but really, what choice did they have?

If they didn’t stop them, they’d all die anyway.

“Go already!”

“Yes, sir!”

Thud-thud! Whoosh!

In the end, the Maw mercenaries leapt over the wall and began engaging the Ghouls.

“Die, you bastards!”

– Kieeeeeek!

Damn it, we’re not going to have to keep doing this forever… right?

Surely, once they wipe this batch out, there’ll be a break… right?

That desperate hope echoed in all their minds.

A hope with no meaning whatsoever.