Black Chain - Chapter 16
Hasolan was not built for the battlefield. Leading an army to attack a castle was beyond her. However, she could at least defend, direct smaller battles, and encourage people, even if it wasn’t her strength.
Someone capable had to do it, no matter their nature. Although Hasolan didn’t hold a rank high enough for the battle-hardened soldiers to follow her commands, she had a certain ‘power.’
‘Damn it.’
Hasolan muttered the curse she had picked up while reluctantly accompanying soldiers through battles. She had to use the power she despised. It was necessary in war. She forced a pale-faced man rushing toward her to the ground, where he lay flat on his stomach.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry. Run along now, be a good child.”
Children who had somehow fled to the castle cried out in shock. While calming them down and leading them to safety, Hasolan shot arrows and used her power to protect them. Protecting civilians, protecting imperial citizens—this was something she had been doing for 14 years.
“Evacuate the people around the lady!”
“Guard the supplies!”
The people of Röttingen were different from regular soldiers. They were seasoned by countless invasions. When Hasolan saw Sir Vitaly helping the maids and elderly women evacuate while holding a blood-stained sword in one hand, she drew her bow once more. She wanted to use her power minimally and subtly, but in battle, things didn’t always go as planned.
“How did they get into the courtyard?”
She was stunned. Still, she flattened a few more of the large Nemantel men. Beside her, Sir Gidmont diligently stabbed each of the downed men in the back, ensuring they were dead. Confidence had grown in his hands. Seeing the enemies collapse as if they’d been drained of strength only confirmed for him that she was the dragon’s companion.
‘Was the castle’s defense always this lax?’
Both the castle and the city walls needed work. Hasolan aimed her bow at the Nemantels, who were clearly after the emperor’s gifts. Every shot was a hit. She had practiced archery tirelessly during the civil war, to avoid being a burden, to the point where her hands bled. She could now shoot even with her eyes closed.
“Where is His Highness?”
Instinctively using a commanding tone, she asked, and a nearby officer answered in surprise.
“His Highness is at the eastern gate!”
“Did they send reinforcements there?”
No one knew. The inside of Röttingen Castle was chaotic; how could anyone know the situation at the gate?
Hasolan began directing the confused soldiers. She didn’t yell or grab anyone by the collar. Her arrows hit their mark, her questions were concise, and her commands were clear. They were all correct, and they were exactly what the soldiers needed to hear in that moment. The soldiers followed without question. The authority of someone who had served closest to the emperor naturally emerged.
“Ahh!”
Whether they were raiders or defenders, they were all risking their lives. Hasolan quickly incapacitated a Nemantel man who was charging at the terrified women.
“What’s happening in the city? Does anyone know?”
The situation at Röttingen Castle was dire, perched as it was high above the city. The city itself must have been suffering even more. When no one answered, Hasolan climbed up to the watchtower herself. Amidst the cacophony of screams, black smoke rose in the distance.
“East!” Hasolan shouted briefly, as if screaming.
The east was in chaos. The news that Akellance had gone to the eastern gate was no idle rumor. Sir Gidmont was struggling to keep up with Hasolan as she darted forward again.
“Are you going east?”
“No, I must stay here!” Hasolan answered firmly, receiving a fresh quiver of arrows from someone who had hurried over.
Leaving the castle and rushing east would be foolish. The people of Röttingen were already adept at dealing with such invasions and were handling the situation well. Besides, Akellance would take care of it. Think rationally—he’s a dragon, isn’t he?
‘So, don’t worry, don’t be anxious.’
She habitually ignored the pounding of her heart. She always worried about a dragon that didn’t need worrying. Sure, he could get hurt, even die, but Hasolan was a fragile human. She should worry more about herself, not about a dragon. She felt foolish and irritated at herself for surviving to defend Röttingen Castle.
‘Is it my fate to serve the empire until I die?’
Frowning slightly, Hasolan drew her bow. What an exhausting life. She should quit—after defending the castle today, at least. Just for today.
***
A Nemantel leader was struck directly in the chest by a long spear and fell. Standing on a majestic black horse, Akellance clicked his tongue as he faced the advancing Nemantels. They had entered through the eastern wall, which Tyrell McQueen had intentionally left open upon leaving.
‘They used their brains this time.’
Since an attack through Solouk would have been too obvious, the Nemantels were surely tipped off. He had never liked Tyrell McQueen, who pretended to be close to Hasolan. Good riddance—Tyrell McQueen deserved to die.
Akellance began killing the Nemantels easily and definitively as they charged in. He slashed their throats, chopped their heads off. His mind was blank as he executed them. After he dealt with Tyrell McQueen’s neck, he would repair the area that had been deliberately left vulnerable.
‘Where’s Hasolan?’
Thinking about her made his head whirl. Since her death, his thoughts about her had always been convoluted. Of course, she had been through many situations like this before, and he knew she wouldn’t be flustered. Or did he know? Was that just arrogance? The resolute Hasolan who said she would leave him—was she someone he truly knew?
“Arrgh!”
Blood-curdling screams filled the air. Grabbing a spear aimed at him, Akellance used the horse’s strength and speed to take it from his attacker before swiftly thrusting it back into his enemy. Akellance’s body had experienced countless battles. Starting with the civil war, the Rupel Empire had expanded its borders and stabilized during his reign as emperor.
“Your Highness!”
The northern army stationed in Röttingen was seasoned in dealing with invasions by foreign tribes. However, from Akellance’s perspective, having lived through 17 years ahead of them, he noticed several shortcomings.
“Don’t come to me. Protect the civilians.”
Akellance neither shouted nor barked orders, but his voice carried effortlessly to the soldiers who had rushed over.
Lieutenant Hunts, who shadowed him, would never forget this moment for the rest of his life. It was a moment of realizing that Akellance wasn’t human—he was far superior. Blood sprayed like mist as he swung his spear.
“Put out the fire! Water!”
Amidst the chaos, someone rushed to douse the black smoke rising from the fortress.
“The damage inside the castle is severe!” Lieutenant Hunts shouted as he reported.
Akellance’s brow twitched. “Have enemy forces entered the castle?”
“They did, but it seems their target has always been the castle itself!”
However, Akellance had already blocked the entrance the raiders had used to infiltrate. First, he had to seal off this breach to minimize the damage.
“Of course, they’ve piled up treasures.”
Muttering to himself, Akellance dispatched two burly Nemantel tribesmen at once. He was well-versed in combat, knowing he should return to the castle only after completely clearing the area.
“They’re evacuating the women and children!”
Akellance nodded at Lieutenant Hunts’ continued report. As expected.
“Damn it.”
Despite the fact that everything was going according to plan, he felt uneasy. It was more than annoyance; it was a sense of urgency, a gnawing frustration, and an irritating feeling in the back of his mind. He wanted to get rid of all the enemies and rush back to the castle.
Is Hasolan safe? Had she evacuated?
“They’ve docked a ship on that side!”
“Those bastards, they’ve come that far?”
A voice of disbelief reached him, but Akellance didn’t even look back. He drove his sword into the neck of an enemy charging at him. He fought with anything within reach—bows, spears, swords, axes—there was no weapon he couldn’t handle. But what was the point? He was always trapped here, tethered by his duty. For 14 years, it had been the same. It was the same now.
Bang!
A loud noise made Lieutenant Hunts turn his head toward Akellance.
“Damn.”
Three massive Nemantel tribesmen were sent sprawling onto the stone floor. A black fog danced in the air. It seemed like fire was pouring from Akellance’s eyes.
“Lieutenant, clear this area.”
After dispatching the strongest and largest of the invaders, Akellance turned his horse around. His sturdy, giant black horse galloped through the chaos toward Röttingen Castle. The sound of hooves striking stone echoed loudly.
Hasolan is fine. She has power, doesn’t she? Or is she?
The reason he hadn’t worried about her before was no longer valid. What good was that power if she could still be hurt, even killed?
“His Highness has returned!”
“Your Highness!”
The northern army was the only thing Röttingen had relied on, but now there was one more thing to count on. The soldiers cheered as they watched the Margrave of Röttingen, sword in hand, slaughtering the remaining Nemantels.
“The damage?”
“We’re not sure yet, but we’ve been guarding the treasures and supplies with our lives!”
That wasn’t the answer Akellance wanted to hear. What he really wanted to know was, ‘Is my companion safe?’
Akellance swiftly surveyed the situation inside Röttingen Castle, which was less chaotic than expected, then turned his horse and cleared a path with his sword.
“Where are the women?”
“The lady evacuated them!”
The mention of ‘the lady’ made Akellance’s brow furrow. “My companion?”
“Yes!”
“Where is she now?”
“She was just here a moment ago…?”
Akellance felt a curse rise in his throat. At the same time, he found it somewhat amusing.
“Hasolan!”
He shouted her name with all the force in his body.
“Solan!”
Isn’t it funny? How laughable it is to burn with worry for her, to shout her name desperately, just like a human would?
She’s been doing the same thing she’s done for the past 14 years, evacuating the weak, saving the children. She always advised him, the emperor, never to forget the widows and orphans in his policies. She, much weaker than him, always tried to protect him on the battlefield.
“Solan!”
So how funny is it that he, of all people, is calling out her name in such desperation now? How ridiculous is it that his heart burns with concern for her? She will be fine.
Akellance’s head throbbed from the flood of worries, hoping that Hasolan wouldn’t get involved in this anymore and would stay safe. He couldn’t bear to lose anything else.
“Your Highness!”
Sir Gidmont, assigned to protect Hasolan, greeted him happily upon spotting him. He was standing on the eastern wall, and Akellance wasn’t pleased to see him there. He had ordered him to protect Hasolan closely—so why was he there?
“Burn those ships!”
Hasolan, accompanied by a few archers, was shooting flaming arrows at the ships the Nemantels had arrived on. With her long hair flying, she drew her bow and released, setting the sails ablaze. She allowed no escape for the Nemantels, just like Akellance would—or maybe it was because he had taught her that.
“Solan!”
It was entirely natural. Akellance had expected this from her. But this time, he said something he had never asked before.
“Why are you here, in danger?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how ridiculous and absurd they sounded. No wonder Hasolan gave him such an incredulous look when she turned to face him.
‘Is this dragon out of his mind…’
Hasolan didn’t say it out loud, but her eyes spoke for her. She quickly scanned him for any injuries, as was her habit. As expected, Akellance was completely fine, in a terrifyingly pristine condition. He hadn’t suffered even the slightest scratch. Although she hadn’t wished for him to be hurt, Hasolan realized once again that worrying about him had been a futile endeavor.
‘How ridiculous I must have seemed, worrying over him like that.’
She drew her bow again, aiming at the ship clinging to the edge of the cliff. She didn’t even bother to answer his question.
“You don’t have to do this.”
The archers and Sir Gidmont knew well enough to stay silent and continue shooting arrows at the ships. Hasolan, after another arrow tore through a sail, strode over to Akellance and spoke in a low voice.
“Do we really need to distinguish between roles in the middle of a battle? You’ve always been one to use me without distinction. Continue as you have.”
“How could I just continue as before? Do you think I’m insane?”
Do you want me to lose you again? Akellance asked, his words filled with bitterness, but her only response was a look of contempt.
Even on the battlefield, Hasolan was only useful to him. If she hadn’t been useful, she would have been discarded—just a piece in the game. A chess piece that had once adored the dragon, now desperately trying to be useful enough to remain at his side.
“The battle isn’t over yet,” Hasolan spoke curtly. “Of course you should continue as before.”
That was how to solidify the empire and imperial authority. Public matters should not be swayed by personal concerns.
“I didn’t come back to continue doing that…”
“Now is not the time for such talk.”
Hasolan interrupted him again, fearlessly cutting off the dragon mid-sentence.
“Yes, it isn’t the time.”
Akellance swallowed the curse rising in his throat and grabbed a spear from one of the archers. He threw it toward the courtyard, clearing a path as it struck down several enemies.
“I know that, but when you’re not within my sight, I can’t help but feel anxious.”
The ship was now fully ablaze. Satisfied, Hasolan began walking back toward the castle.
“I worry because I don’t know what might happen to you.”
Akellance spoke words she had never heard before, wearing an expression she had never seen from him.
“Stay with me.”
He matched her pace, walking alongside her toward the castle.
“You’re not going to listen to me anyway, are you?”
And yet, if he forced her to stay somewhere safe, she would only resent him more, and he couldn’t bear that. So, he kept her within his sight.
“Why…?”
It was a moment filled with the sound of clashing steel, rising smoke, and the taking of lives. Blood splattered, flesh was torn, and ashes floated through the air. At that moment, Hasolan glared at Akellance with a fury that could kill.
‘I want to shoot him.’
She wanted to kill him. Now would be the perfect moment. He was saying things that only lovers should say, spilling his heart with sincerity.
She wanted to kill him, just as he had killed her, and carve her existence deeply into his life. Ah, to only hear such words after dying—how trivial her love must have been. Her hand trembled as she held the bow, but in the end, she didn’t shoot it at him.
“Did I say something wrong?”
You’re perfect. Too perfect for anyone to touch. So perfect that it makes me want to kill you.
Hasolan gazed at the man who had become poison to her and replied in defeat, “Of course not. How could someone like you ever do anything wrong?”
You would never make mistakes. Only foolish people make mistakes, and you are far from foolish.
She released the arrow meant for him toward an intruder instead. Akellance watched her face, where hatred had flared up only to extinguish itself in an instant, feeling a deep unease.