Chapter 407: Heavy Conscience [Bonus Castle]

[Fajarn’s POV]

Inside one of Frostgrave Fortress’s private treatment chambers, Commander Fajarn was resting on a bed after receiving medical attention for his missing arm.

He looked at the thick bandages covering what remained of his arm. Although the healers had given him something to ease the pain, he could still feel a dull ache coming from the injured area.

Strangely enough, there were moments when he almost felt as though his missing arm was still there.

’Hughh... what a troublesome injury.’

Just as he was considering whether to get some sleep, a knock came from the door.

Knock. Knock.

Fajarn turned his attention toward the entrance, wondering who would bother visiting him at such an hour.

Before he could say anything, a familiar voice called out from the other side.

"Fajarn, are you awake? It’s Evrard."

"Yes, my lord, please come in."

The door opened shortly afterward, revealing Lord Evrard standing at the entrance.

Having finally finished attending to the more urgent matters following the battle, he had decided to check on his injured commander.

The exhaustion on his face was rather apparent, although he still carried himself with his usual composure.

"Ah, my lord, I wasn’t expecting you to visit so soon," Fajarn greeted, instinctively attempting to sit upright. However, the sudden movement sent a sharp pain through his injured shoulder, causing him to wince.

Seeing this, Evrard immediately raised his hand to stop him.

"Don’t bother with the formalities, Fajarn, just stay where you are. You’ve already done more than enough, and I certainly didn’t come here to watch you hurt yourself further."

"Heh, forgive me, my lord, old habits are rather difficult to get rid of."

Fajarn gave a small chuckle before settling back against the pillows.

"Besides, it would be improper of me to greet you while lying in bed like this."

"Then consider it an order from me to remain in bed," Evrard replied, pulling a chair closer. "Surely you can manage that much, can’t you?"

"Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I don’t have much of a choice."

With that, Evrard took a seat beside the bed and briefly examined his commander’s condition. His gaze eventually settled on the bandaged stump, where Fajarn’s arm had once been.

A slight frown crossed his face, although he said nothing about it for the moment.

Instead, Fajarn was the first to speak.

"How are things outside, my lord? I heard the soldiers celebrating earlier, so I assume everything has been settled."

"More or less, although there’s still plenty of work to be done," Evrard answered, leaning back in his chair.

"The remaining Voidspawns have been dealt with, and I’ve already assigned several officers to oversee the wounded and secure the damaged sections of the fortress. As for the repairs, we’ll begin assessing the full extent of the damage once morning comes."

"I see, that’s good to hear."

Fajarn nodded in satisfaction before asking another question.

"And what about our casualties, have we received the final report yet?"

"Not yet, but from what I’ve been told, the number of deaths is relatively low considering what we were up against. Unfortunately, we have far more injured soldiers than our healers can comfortably handle, so I’ve ordered the available medical staff to focus on those in critical condition first."

Hearing that, Fajarn slowly nodded, his expression turning somewhat thoughtful.

Although he had expected the casualties to be much worse, it was still difficult to feel entirely relieved when so many soldiers had suffered injuries.

Still, considering the sheer number of Voidspawns they had faced, their survival was already something worth being grateful for.

"Well, I suppose we should count ourselves fortunate."

Fajarn remarked, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Things could have ended much worse if those reinforcements hadn’t arrived when they did. We certainly owe those youngsters a great deal."

"Indeed, we do."

Evrard agreed, nodding slightly.

"I’ve already arranged proper accommodations for them, and I’ll have to find an opportunity to express my gratitude once everyone has recovered. For now, I would rather let them rest after everything they’ve done for us."

"A sensible decision, my lord."

"Anyway... that’s something I can worry about later."

Evrard replied, shaking his head.

"Right now, I’m more concerned about the condition of my own commander. So, what did the healers say?"

"Ah, well, nothing too concerning, fortunately. They’ve managed to treat the wound and stop the bleeding, so there shouldn’t be any immediate danger. Apparently, I’ll just have to take things easy for the next few weeks."

Even with such assurance, Evrard still felt a bitter feeling in his chest. After all, Fajarn’s terrible injury was practically his fault.

Their battle against the Black Knight’s skeletal steed had been far more difficult than anyone could have anticipated.

Despite being only a Reaper-rank Voidspawn, the creature possessed an enormous body wreathed in black flames, and a very troublesome ability that robbed all three of them of their sight.

Had it not been for Evrard’s [Clairvoyant] spell, their situation would have been considerably worse.

By relaying what he saw to Fajarn and Captain Zarrick, he had managed to coordinate their attacks and warn them whenever the creature was about to strike.

It was thanks to that arrangement that they had managed to hold their ground against such a formidable opponent.

However, maintaining that advantage required Evrard’s constant attention.

With neither Fajarn nor Zarrick able to see their enemy, even the slightest delay in his instructions could leave them exposed to a fatal attack.

Unfortunately, that was precisely what had happened during the height of their confrontation.

At some point during the battle, Evrard had become aware of his daughter fighting the Black Knight some distance away.

Naturally, the thought of Calyra facing such a dangerous opponent had concerned him. And for a brief moment, his attention had shifted away from the skeletal steed.

That momentary lapse had proven disastrous.

Without his timely warning, Fajarn had been unable to react to the creature’s next attack, resulting in the loss of his arm.

Captain Zarrick had suffered an even worse fate shortly afterward, losing his life while trying to fend off the creature’s relentless assault.

Although they had eventually managed to defeat the creature, their victory had come at a terrible price.

Recalling those events, Evrard slowly clenched his fist.

"Fajarn, about what happened earlier..."

Evrard began, his voice becoming subdued.

"I owe you an apology. And Zarrick as well. Had I maintained my concentration, you wouldn’t have lost your arm, and he..."

Evrard paused, struggling to finish his sentence.

"...He might still be alive."

At the mention of Zarrick’s name, Fajarn’s expression changed.

The faint smile that had been lingering on his face disappeared, and for a moment, he simply stared at the empty space beside his bed.

"...My lord," Fajarn let out a weary sigh. "You’re not seriously blaming yourself for his death, are you?"

"How could I not?" Evrard replied, his expression remaining serious. "Neither of you could see what was happening around you, so you had no choice but to rely on my instructions. And yet, I allowed myself to become distracted at the worst possible moment."

Fajarn said nothing.

He had known Evrard for many years, and if there was one thing he understood about the man, it was his tendency to shoulder more responsibility than what was necessary.

Normally, he would have laughed off his lord’s concerns with a few reassuring words. But this time, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. Not when the image of Zarrick’s final moments was still so fresh in his mind.

"...You know, my lord, I keep thinking about it too," Fajarn finally spoke, his voice unusually quiet. "If I’d reacted a little faster, or if I’d noticed what that damn creature was about to do, perhaps things would’ve turned out differently."

He glanced down at the empty sleeve resting beside him.

"Maybe I’d still have my arm. Maybe Zarrick would still be here, complaining about something like he always did."

A bitter smile crossed his face.

"...He really did complain a lot, didn’t he?"

Evrard lowered his gaze.

"...He did."

"Haa... that stubborn bastard."

Fajarn shook his head.

For a while, neither man spoke.

Eventually, Fajarn looked back at Evrard.

"But what’s done is done, my lord. We can sit here thinking about what we should’ve done differently, but that won’t bring him back."

"Fajarn..."

"Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying you made no mistakes. You did. We all did."

Fajarn’s expression grew serious.

"But we were fighting a monster that could’ve killed any of us with a single attack. Zarrick and I knew the risks when we decided to confront that thing. We’ve been soldiers for decades, my lord. We knew what we were getting ourselves into."

Evrard remained silent, listening.

"And as for your daughter..." Fajarn continued, giving a small shrug with his remaining shoulder. "She was fighting that dreadful Black Knight. How could you possibly watch your own child face something like that without worrying about her?"

"That doesn’t excuse my negligence."

"No, perhaps it doesn’t."

Fajarn didn’t attempt to argue. "But I don’t think Zarrick would want you blaming yourself for the rest of your life, either."

Evrard slowly closed his eyes. Although he understood what Fajarn was trying to tell him, accepting it was another matter entirely.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"...I’ll make sure he’s given a proper farewell. And that his contributions to Frostgrave are never forgotten."

Fajarn nodded.

"...I’d appreciate that, my lord."

His voice was quiet, but there was genuine gratitude in it.

Another silence settled between them.

Then, as though hoping to lighten the atmosphere, Fajarn glanced at his missing arm and let out a small sigh.

"Well, speaking of my situation... If you really feel that guilty, perhaps you could arrange for someone to handle my paperwork for the next few months."

Evrard raised an eyebrow.

"...Paperwork?"

"Of course. Just look at me. Writing reports with one hand is going to be a bloody nightmare."

Evrard’s lips twitched slightly. "You’re already planning to use that injury as an excuse to avoid your duties?"

"Heh. Well, I have to make the most of my situation somehow, don’t I?"

Fajarn let out a quiet chuckle. Evrard shook his head, although a faint smile finally appeared on his face.

It didn’t last long.

Both men knew that things wouldn’t be quite the same without Zarrick around. Still, Fajarn was glad to see his lord looking a little less miserable.

"Anyway, my lord, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you..."

Fajarn paused briefly, recalling the terrifying presence of the Black Knight they had encountered earlier.

His expression gradually turned serious again.

"...How the hell did those youngsters manage to survive against that thing?"

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[Chapter 407: Heavy Conscience]