Chapter 96. A Request

The audience chamber of the Esperian royal palace was as noisy as ever when news arrived that the imperial army had taken control of most of Al Cante.

"I believe in Count Gonzales. He will surely show us why he gave up Al Cante."

"Hmm..."

Francisco stepped forward to defend Sancho, but the king looked at the nobles without hiding his dissatisfaction, and,

"They say the enemy forces heading to Al Cante are far greater than those that came to Al Berdo Pass. Even if we could annihilate the enemy as Count Gonzales said, leaving so many more enemies unchecked like this..."

"He said the enemy that came to Al Cante is not to be feared, despite their numbers. Don't you understand the power of siege cannons and guns?"

"Even so..."

While news of Al Cante's fall had arrived, there was no word from Al Berdo Pass where Sancho was, so voices doubting Sancho's strategy grew louder, and,

"An enemy attack is just a matter of time! We must immediately dispatch troops to Al Cante to stop them!"

"Troops? How can we increase troops from here! Well, it might not be difficult if you use some of your private funds. I hear there are plenty who've seen you at underground auctions."

Nobles governing safe rear territories used the war merely as a tool to attack other nobles.

"What are you...! Didn't your wife just buy a new necklace studded with jewels the other day!"

"Well... Shall we calculate how much the ring and earrings you're wearing now cost?"

"..."

Francisco quietly watched this pandemonium, waiting for news from Sancho that would resolve the situation.

He didn't expect the enemy to be annihilated.

If only a report came up that the enemy had retreated, or if not that, at least that the dangerous weapon, the siege cannon, had been destroyed, he was confident that with his authority, having sided with Sancho's plan, he could quell this chaos at once.

"...What, how much? Such an absurd claim..."

"The current market price of rubies..."

Just as the neglected nobles' quarrel was about to reach its peak.

"...Currently in a meeting..."

"...For now..."

There was a commotion near the audience chamber door, and soon it began to open slowly.

"...Huh?"

"Who's that person... Count Gonzales?"

"What?"

The one who opened the door and entered was Sancho, still wearing his armor.

His hair was soaked in oil, and his tattered armor and clothes were dirty with sweat and dust.

The guards, who dared not block one of the most respected counts, quietly closed the audience chamber door again.

"Uh..."

"Should stop... Hmm."

The nobles could feel the deep fatigue in Sancho's sunken face, and although they were curious why he was in the palace when he should have been commanding the battle, they hurriedly averted their gaze upon meeting his sharp eyes.

-Thud. Thud. Thud.

The audience chamber had suddenly become completely quiet, with only the sound of Sancho's military boots echoing within.

His steps were slow but unfaltering.

Francisco tried to stop him as he walked towards the king seated on the throne, but seeing the complex emotions in his eyes, he retreated again.

In the end, Sancho was able to walk to the foot of Julio's throne without any hindrance, and,

-Thud.

"...Count Gonzales?"

"I'm sorry."

He knelt before the throne and apologized.

"What do you mean, Count?"

"I'm sorry!"

Sancho, who shouted his apology to the considerably surprised king,

-Thud!

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...!"

Banged his head on the floor and cried out in a trembling voice.

"Count Gonzales!"

The nobles, including Francisco, rushed to raise him, and Sancho stood up quietly without shaking them off.

"...Our forces, which numbered 28,000, now have only 10,000 left."

"...!"

"It's my fault. I underestimated the enemy general's strategy and the strength of the enemy corps too much."

"...You lost?"

"For Count Gonzales to say such things..."

"10,000? My goodness..."

The nobles stirred at Sancho's calm confession after standing up.

"Is this truly the case?"

"I came here to personally confess my sins. I left the remaining forces to Count Carlos Lopez."

"What about the enemy's losses! Surely you didn't just take it lying down!"

"..."

Sancho turned his head towards Francisco, who was asking with a trembling voice, and stared blankly at his face.

"...Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Accurate tallies are difficult, but the Red Dragon Corps' losses won't exceed a thousand."

"...Pardon?"

"We didn't even get to see the siege cannons... No."

"..."

"We didn't even have a proper chance to face the enemy. The battle was one-sided, the enemy's movements were agile, and my response was inadequate."

"..."

Francisco closed his mouth in dismay.

Sancho, who had carefully removed the hands holding his body, prostrated himself again before the king.

"Please punish me, Your Majesty, for making the kingdom's young men bleed due to my incorrect judgment."

Julio pondered as he looked at Sancho prostrated before him.

If Sancho had truly been defeated due to his own incompetence as he said, he could be punished, but Julio also knew that Sancho's authority and ability were too great to easily decide on punishment.

"Your Majesty, although Count Gonzales says he was defeated, his competence is known to all. There must have been reasons why defeat was inevitable, so I suggest deciding the Count's treatment after the situation is fully understood."

Francisco, noticing Julio's hesitation, immediately clasped his hands and defended Sancho.

There were external reasons like power, but for now, he thought they couldn't afford to lose Sancho, who was a capable general.

"Your Majesty, if the Count's words are all true, he cannot avoid punishment. So..."

"Punishment? Where in the kingdom is there someone as skilled in battle as Count Gonzales! If it had been another general, we might have suffered even greater losses!"

As the nobles saw Francisco step forward, they each chimed in, and Julio's deliberation lengthened.

"A report containing the results of the battle has arrived!"

"...Hmm. Wouldn't it be right to decide after confirming the report?"

"That's right."

A messenger who had barely caught up with Sancho, who had ridden alone, arrived, and the nobles and the king verified the contents of the report written by Sancho's adjutant by questioning Sancho.

"Retreat? This cowardly action must have increased the casualties!"

"Watch your words! We call it foolishness and recklessness not to retreat when we should retreat!"

Discussions went back and forth among the nobles, and,

"...Rise, Count Gonzales."

Julio, having finished his confirmation, raised Sancho.

"Although Count Gonzales was defeated in the Battle of Al Berdo Pass, he has devoted himself to the Esperian Kingdom for decades. Moreover, the defeat in battle was merely the result of the enemy's sharp strategy, not due to the Count's incompetence."

"..."

"Taking these points into consideration, I order Count Sancho Gonzales to be confined to his home."

"...Thank you, Your Majesty."

He decided on a light level of punishment, and many nobles nodded to this.

"You may withdraw now."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Sancho trudged out of the audience chamber again.

Francisco stared blankly at his retreating figure.

"...Now, we must decide on Count Gonzales' successor."

"I think Count Carlos Lopez, currently stationed at the Ceres Gate, would be a suitable successor."

"I agree."

With Sancho's powerless figure, which he had never seen before, vivid in his mind, Francisco couldn't hear the content of the ensuing meeting, and,

"I'd like to have a conversation about Count Gonzales and the Battle of Al Berdo Pass."

"I'll allow it."

A few days later, having received the king's permission, he went looking for Sancho to talk to him separately.

He was the first to visit Sancho's mansion, but,

"He's not here?"

"That's right, Your Grace."

"...I see."

He was greeted by an unfamiliar person.

Francisco went around inquiring, and,

"...This house?"

He was able to arrive at a house too shabby to be a count's, small enough not to need servants.

"...I've confirmed."

"Thank you for your trouble."

After showing his permit to the guard blocking the house, he opened the old wooden door and entered.

"Hello, Your Grace."

"...Duke Casas."

"What's going on here..."

In the bleak house devoid of decorations, Sancho, sitting in a chair, and his one maid greeted Francisco.

"Where do you think the money to gather mercenaries came from?"

"We could have supported..."

"There's no need for Duke Casas or innocent nobles to shoulder my mistakes. That's not what I want."

"..."

"Still, I'm not completely penniless. When the punishment ends, I suppose I'll have to look for a house again."

His explanation was that he had to give up many things to pay for the employment of over ten thousand mercenaries.

Francisco, knowing that Sancho had been particularly frugal usually, absently caressed the wooden cup placed in front of him.

Unable to even recall what he had originally intended to ask, Francisco rose from his seat after some casual conversation, and,

"Duke Casas."

"...Yes."

"I have one request."

To him, who had stood up,

"Never try to fight the Red Dragon Corps."

"...Pardon?"

"It may be presumptuous, but I think we should somehow make a truce. If that's not possible, at least avoid the Red Dragon Corps."

Sancho said with a serious expression.

He tried to hide it, but Francisco could see his fingertips and the corners of his eyes trembling.

"...The Red Dragon Corps?"

"Be careful."

Francisco stood still as if nailed to the spot, then,

"..."

He bowed his head in greeting and left Sancho's house with unsteady steps.