The Camellia Tattoo - Chapter 49
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
this book is completely translated on luna kofi (advanced chapters for the website will follow)
Amber felt comforted that memories of her deceased parents now evoked smiles more than tears. She could now remember them with fond memories rather than sorrow.
“You must miss your friends.”
“…Yes. It would be a lie to say I didn’t. But it’s okay. We all knew that it would be hard to meet after getting married. I was prepared for that.”
Amber described her friends – the cheerful and plump Roscielle, Vista with her prodigious talent for the piano, and Jeanne, who was skilled at needlework and always a source of envy.
Igmeyer listened intently to her stories, which he might have found uninteresting. He didn’t interrupt her or show any signs of boredom.
“It would be nice to invite your friends here, but I’m sorry. This land isn’t really fit for visitors.”
“Just the thought is enough, Igmeyer. But if possible… after we defeat Nidhogg, I’d like to invite them for my birthday.”
“Quite specific, aren’t you?”
Igmeyer laughed heartily at this and Amber joined in, feeling a sense of relief after the laughter.
“The moon is beautiful tonight.”
“Yes, it is.”
The moon shone brightly, its light seemingly wavering.
As Amber gazed at the moon through the closed window, something suddenly clicked in her subconscious.
‘This is the second secret of Niflheim.’
Igmeyer’s words echoed in her mind, words he had said while showing her the underground storeroom.
At the time, she was too excited and had almost missed the importance of his statement.
“Igmeyer.”
“Why do you call me so sweetly?”
“I’m curious about Niflheim’s first secret.”
She gazed into his red eyes, briefly perceiving a hint of bitterness. But that elusive emotion quickly vanished.
“That’s a secret passed down only to the Grand Dukes of Niflheim. I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Actually, it’s a secret revealed in a dream to the heir the day they succeed the Grand Duke’s position. But you don’t need to hear it. It’s not worth much.”
The first part was true, and the latter was a lie.
Amber astutely recognized his lie but chose not to probe further, respecting his privacy as he had respected her emotions earlier.
“Is there a third secret?”
“No. Just those two.”
“Okay.”
Their night of intimate conversation gradually drew to a close.
* * *
Time passed quickly, and soon the period Igmeyer had warned of as ‘the bad times’ approached.
The elite knights received swords made of Litten iron, and apprentices and squires looked on enviously at the sharp works of art.
Jean, utilizing his connections from his mercenary days, hired a fire show performer from a circus. Thanks to this individual, everyone learned how to ignite their weapons.
People in the villages followed the distributed instructions, slaughtering chickens to use their blood to mark the entrances of their shelters.
The shelters were equipped with beacons that could be lit from inside. If smoke rose from one village, the others would be able to evacuate swiftly.
As each tense day passed, everyone in the castle remained vigilant.
Amber gathered the women in the castle to continuously weave cloth for bandages, while the servants were mobilized in the kitchen to make hard, long-lasting emergency bread.
The supplies prepared in Niflheim’s castle were loaded onto horses and transported from one village to another, stacked up in each shelter.
* * *
Then, one cloudy day with fierce cold winds, the Phantom Breeds finally appeared.
Despite all the meticulous preparations, a village was devastated.
From there, ‘Nidhogg’s Cry’ began.
Nights were spent with everyone holding their breath.
“Focus, will you!”
“Save the brain! Hey! I said, save the brain!”
“Damn it, don’t burn the brain!”
In Hayim, the northernmost part of Niflheim, where it’s said that your eyelids freeze just from breathing out, legend tells it’s where the god of the north wind was born. Today, this frozen land was unusually hot.
Knights set fire to their swords and faced the Phantom Breed.
Though numerous, the Phantom Breeds couldn’t withstand the knights’ fervor and were slain one by one.
A notable sight was squires waiting to rummage through the carcasses of the dead creatures, extracting their brains and placing them in ice-filled chests.
It was unclear where or how these brains would be sold, but each chest bore the name of the knight who claimed it.
The brains would be bought by the Grand Duke of Niflheim, and later, the knights would receive a substantial bonus for each creature they killed.
Admittedly, it’s questionable for knights to be so blinded by money, but many of them were former mercenaries, inherently greedy for money. Even the most ordinary knights could be tainted by the greed surrounding them.
“I got this one! This is mine!”
“Ah, damn! I should have dealt the final blow!”
Their appearance, with chicken blood smeared from forehead to cheek, was quite bizarre. With nearly two weeks without a proper wash and their frequent roars, they looked more like bandits than knights.
