LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 18.2
His gaze shifted to me and the golden carriage.
“A supply-laden carriage, appearing in the middle of a barrier and labyrinth? What a joke.”
His incredulous look grew sharper as he added, “And you, firing absurdly powerful magic arrows—secret weapons of the Grand Duchess, no less. Though it’s all meaningless now.”
His final glance landed on Arina, who lay bleeding on the ground.
With that, his tirade ended, leaving only the bitter reality of his betrayal.
A smirk played on Doyle’s lips as he looked down at the Grand Duchess.
“Pour all the potions you want—it won’t matter.”
Beside Arina, an aged knight knelt, frantically tending to his wounded liege.
“Please… Please…”
Balzac was pouring every potion he had onto Arina’s gaping abdominal wound, as though trying to stave off the inevitable.
The tide of the battle shifted again.
What had been an overwhelmingly favorable situation for Renslet had now evened out—or perhaps turned against them. A grim and oppressive atmosphere hung over Renslet’s side, while on the other side, the imperials exuded elation and triumph.
On the gray battlefield, these two extreme emotions clashed.
“What about the other Frostblades who went scouting with you? Did they also betray us?”
In Balzac’s stead, Sir Eote, another high-ranking knight, questioned Doyle.
It seemed only Arina and Balzac had been using aliases; the others were direct and formal.
“You mean my squadmates? Hmm, where could they be, Sir Eote?”
“I’d appreciate it if my name never left your foul mouth. It’s revolting.”
“Whoa, relax. If you must know, they’re all inside the bellies of monsters. By now, they’re just bones and flesh wandering the labyrinth.”
“At least the betrayal was yours alone.”
“Indeed, what a relief. It means I get to enjoy the rewards all by myself.”
“Why did you betray us? Did Her Highness make some grievous decision against you?”
“The North! I hate this cursed, wretched North! It’s unbearably cold, always leaves you hungry, and offers nothing satisfying. I despise this accursed land!”
“If you hated it so much, you could have just left. Why do this?”
“Do you think you would’ve let a Frostblade knight just walk away? Hmm? With the knight’s oath still binding me? At the very least, I’d have been crippled—my energy core destroyed or an arm taken.”
“……”
“But the Empire is different! They promised me immense rewards for cooperating with this mission—a warm, prosperous land and a title of Baron, inheritable and eternal!”
“So, even here, it’s all about money…”
Listening to Doyle and Eote’s exchange, I recalled Silver Age I and its familiar echoes of greed and betrayal.
“But… there’s no record of anyone named Doyle in the Empire.”
Even for a traitor who sold out the North and its Grand Duchess, I couldn’t recall any historical mentions of Doyle. Perhaps he had been given a new name and identity, but still…
“The Empire’s promises are lies.”
I clicked my tongue silently and retreated to the golden carriage to prepare.
Once ready, I stepped out and approached the fallen Grand Duchess and Balzac, who was still frantically trying to save her.
“Damn it… The potions aren’t enough!”
Balzac, his hair and beard disheveled, was visibly desperate. Despite using every potion he had, the Grand Duchess’s wounds were far from healed—barely buying her a few extra hours of life.
“Huff… Huff…”
Her state, as she lay there coughing up blood, was clearly dire.
“May I take a look?”
I cautiously addressed Balzac and the fallen Grand Duchess.
“……!”
Hearing my voice, Balzac paused, then slowly turned to look at me.
“I’ve studied healing arts, you see.”
Balzac’s gaze shifted between me and the golden carriage behind me before he spoke.
“Please! I beg of you—save Her Highness!”
With a heavy thud, he knelt and bowed his head to the ground, his voice trembling with a knight’s tears.
‘It seems there’s no need to hide the truth anymore. Not that it matters, now that Doyle has shouted her identity to the world.’
Ironically, up until moments ago, I was officially supposed to be unaware of the Grand Duchess’s and Balzac’s true identities.
“So it really was Her Highness. Then Sir Dominic’s true identity must be Sir Balzac, the Frostblade of the North?”
“Yes… I apologize for the deception until now.”
“No need to apologize. Please step aside so I can examine Her Highness.”
“Of course!”
With permission granted, I immediately checked her condition.
‘It’s bad—very bad.’
As expected, Arina’s condition was critical. The potions had kept her alive, but only barely. Without them, she would’ve succumbed long ago.
‘With the herbs and tools I have, I can’t save her.’
The diagnosis was grim. Moreover, we were deep within the labyrinth’s treacherous depths, far from any proper facilities.
“Can you save her?”
Balzac’s voice came softly from beside me, laden with hope and fear.
“Hmm…”
I hesitated briefly before answering.
“Yes, it’s possible.”
Balzac’s eyes widened in shock.
“Huff… Huff… I… can… live…?”
Arina, still conscious, gasped out the question in a faint voice.
“Not only will Your Highness survive, but you will wield your sword again.”
“……!”
Tears welled in Arina’s eyes. She must have been bracing herself for the worst—for the complete destruction of her energy core and the end of her swordsmanship.
“However, I will need you to retrieve a few items for me.”
“Tell me! I will bring them at any cost, even at the expense of my life.”
Balzac’s eyes burned with determination, his faith in me unshakable after everything I’d done thus far.
“The Sigma mages should have high-grade potions used by the imperial knights. And the warlocks from the Warlock’s Den are likely carrying rare and sinister medicinal ingredients.”
I glanced toward the remaining enemies.
“Bring me all of it—every last bit!”
Before I could finish my sentence, Balzac had already vanished.
Whoooosh!
The frost winds howled as the Frostblade surged forward, leaving a trail across the gray battlefield.
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