âMy Lady, please send me.â
William wants to be a part of this plan.
âIâd like to do that. Please send me there.â
He desperately appealed to me to let him do it.
âWilliam isnât all that bad.â
He was the youngest person ever promoted and an exceptional talent, so much so that he was a candidate for the next commander.
Even if he points his sword at Marquis Whiterot, he will most likely survive.
However.
âNo, I canât.â
I couldnât put my life in jeopardy because of uncertainty.
If this fails, both Cedric and I will die, and the Crawford family will be at conflict with the North.
I made every decision based on the assumption that this plan would be a complete success.
Even if William had a 99 percent chance of success, it wasnât enough.
I require absolute certainty.
âMarquis Whiterotâs SS were formidable foes.â
(T/N: SS is an abbreviation for Schutzstaffel, which means protective squad/echelon in Germany.)
âBut I, tooâ¦â¦!â
âAnd what if William gets hurt?â
My words effectively kept his mouth shut.
William, whose face had turned red, couldnât help but cover his mouth and face with his hand.
âMy Ladyâ¦â¦ Y-youâre afraid Iâm going to get hurtâ¦â¦â
âOf course.â
Thatâs why, Husky, stay calm and protect the house, okay?
âDonât worry too much. There is someone who is qualified for this position.â
âValhail.â
Someone who gave me the absolute certainty.
Other than him, there were no one that came to mind.
âºâºâºâ¼â»â»â»
The red sun rose over the plain.
Marquis Whiterot and his SS were taking a short break after riding horses all night.
In front of the bonfire, a knight of the SS spoke to the Marquis.
âYou will soon meet someone who will become your wife. Are you excited about it, my lord?â
âExcited?â
Marquis of Whiterot.
He was a strong man with white hair and a beard.
âAll girls are idiots.â
Another soldier inquired of the Marquis, who responded coldly.
âStill, weâve been running for ten days. What would you do if the lady is ugly, my lord?â
Marquis replied with a twisted smile while savoring the strong liquor.
âThen Iâll hand her over to you.â
âHahaha!â
The Marquisâ thick joke elicited a burst of raucous laughter.
They were all caught off guard.
Because the journey to the West was so long, only the most elite members were chosen.
Furthermore, the surroundings were barren fields with no place to hide. Their raucous laughter was the only sound they could hear.
It was back then.
âThen Iâm hoping Lady Shannon isnât that ugly!â
A soldier who was excitedly laughing while joking with the Marquis was suddenly decapitated.
Rolled-
The manâs rolling face on the ground couldnât close its eyes.
He died quietly, without even a scream.
At the shocking death of their colleague, all the guards raised their swords and stood up.
âWhâ¦â¦ What?!â
Suddenly, a strong man appeared in their midst, dressed in black robes and wielding a hook-shaped scythe.
Marquis Whiterot was taken aback by the man who looked like the God of Death.
They were surrounded by an anomalous sensation.
The Marquis swallowed dry saliva as he faced a terrifying threat he had never faced before.
âI have to run away.â
His intuition was speaking to him.
However, his leg, weighed down by the threat, froze and did not move at all.
The same could be said for his SS knights.
None of them dared to attack, instead remaining silent with their swords.
âYou⦠Who are you?â
It was their first time experiencing something like this.
To find a way out, the Marquis rolled his eyes.
He intended to buy some time before trying to escape.
However, the manâs cold response dashed his hopes.
âYou donât have to know.â
Because heâs going to die anyway.