BOPE 53

Chapter 53 ….

Delma stepped in front of the lord, bracing herself in case Rey got back up and charged again.

But time passed, and Rey remained sprawled on the floor, showing no sign of moving.

“He… he looks dead,” Delma stammered, staring at Rey lying there like a corpse. The blood drained from her frightened face.

“Dead? Not a chance. He’s just asleep. Look, he’s snoring.”

Donghee pointed at Rey.

“Snrk—pfff!”

Sure enough, Rey wasn’t unconscious from injury. He had simply drunk himself senseless. His flushed, drunken face was covered with messy golden hair sticking to him like straw.

“Good heavens, what a scare!”

Finally realizing he wasn’t dead, Delma clutched her chest in relief.

Donghee chuckled at Delma’s face—still pale, still watching Rey anxiously as if she’d lost ten years of her life.

“Funny, considering how mercilessly you rammed him just a minute ago.”

“That was only because I thought he was going to hurt the lord,” Delma muttered sheepishly, rubbing her sore shoulder where she’d charged into Rey.

It wasn’t only Donghee who had been startled by Delma’s sudden move. The knights who had been guarding the lord and the ones stationed outside the office all gaped at her for a long while.

“Shall we move Lord Rey to a guest room?” Handsome asked cautiously, his eyes lingering on Rey’s limp body. There was hesitation in his tone.

Outside, the light was fading fast.

The carriage Rey had ridden was already gone, and it was unthinkable that the lord would lend Grace’s carriage to his former fiancé.

It was clear the lord no longer saw Rey as anyone of importance.

“No. The guest rooms are too valuable to waste on him.”

“Then where…? If we leave him out in this weather, he could be in real danger.”

Winter was nearly upon them. A drunk left outside overnight could easily freeze to death. Delma, despite her bitterness toward Rey, didn’t actually want him dead.

“He may be my ex, but at least let him sleep somewhere warm,” the lord said, surprising them all with his unexpectedly kind words.

Rey stirred the next morning, stretching languidly at the sensation of something hot and wet licking across his lips.

It had to be Chloe. Despite all her resistance, she must have finally given in and accepted him. What else could explain such passionate morning kisses?

“Mmm… Chloe, calm down,” Rey mumbled happily, turning his head with a smug grin.

But when his swollen eyes opened, instead of soft lips he felt coarse bristles against his cheek.

The first thing he saw was a pile of straw.

Am I still dreaming?

He blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of it.

Then that hot, slimy thing dragged across his face again.

Slowly, dreadfully, he turned his head—only to see three enormous horse heads looming right in front of him.

“Waaagh!”

Rey thrashed wildly, scrambling to his feet.

“Wh-what the hell! Where am I?”

The horses, startled by his yell, whinnied and snorted in alarm.

It was only then Rey realized he had spent the night in a stable, and the “kisses” he thought were Chloe’s lips were nothing but horses’ tongues.

“Ugh!” He rubbed furiously at his cheek, face contorted with disgust.

“They threw me in a stable?”

Chloe would never have allowed this before.

“Don’t tell me… she’s truly done with me?”

He couldn’t believe it.

As he stood there in shock, the horses—who had backed away at first—pushed their muzzles forward again, licking him as if his face were sugarcane.

“Argh! Get away from me!”

Meanwhile, armed mercenaries began gathering at the lord’s castle.

Their weapons and clothing varied wildly. Some were clad in full armor, while others looked too frail to swing even a stick.

The castle, once visited only by servants and the occasional merchant, now bustled with life.

“Are we sure the Grace domain is really hiring mercenaries?” one man asked nervously, glancing around as he entered the courtyard.

“Judging by the crowd, it’s no rumor.”

“Still, what if they work us to death and never pay us?”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“They say the lord of Grace has changed completely.”

“So what? I heard he’s just a kid.”

He’d come only because his friend insisted, but he wasn’t optimistic. The thought of being cheated out of pay gnawed at him.

His companion clapped his shoulder. “You haven’t heard about Morta Village? They say it’s been completely transformed.”

“Don’t tell me you believe that nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense! Enol, too—they say the whole place is different now.”

They weren’t the only ones whispering.

All around, groups of mercenaries huddled together, trading scraps of rumor and information, each trying to figure out whether the lord would truly pay them fairly.

Most had little expectation. Jobs for mercenaries were scarce these days, and they had come mostly out of desperation.

At that moment, Donghee was receiving Red Bear’s report.

“My lord, the mercenaries are all gathered,” Red Bear said crisply. His face was fuller and healthier now, his voice stronger—no doubt thanks to being well-fed.

Donghee suddenly found himself thinking he’d like to raise livestock here in the domain. He’d seen a stable, but no farms for chickens, cows, or pigs. Maybe there once had been, but famine had likely wiped them out.

Perhaps he could start with chickens—build a coop, hatch eggs from fertilized ones he could bring from the mart…

The thought spiraled endlessly until he noticed Red Bear watching him expectantly.

“How many gathered?”

“Altogether, 130.”

It was a decent turnout, though less than he had hoped.

“Still, it’s more than I expected,” Red Bear added quickly, noticing the disappointment on the lord’s face.

“And their skill?”

“Some are well-known, but many look like rabble.” Red Bear grimaced.

“Rabble?”

“Yes. Some don’t even look like mercenaries at all—just villagers desperate for work.”

Donghee nodded thoughtfully, then said casually, “Hire them all.”

“What? But some of them can’t even swing a sword!”

Red Bear thought of the scrawny youths who looked like they’d collapse with a shove.

“They came seeking work. If you think they’re unfit for mercenary duty, ask what they’re willing to do and put them to labor. Builder’s been begging for more hands anyway.”

“…Yes, my lord.”

Red Bear’s eyes softened, lingering briefly on Chloe.

Feeling awkward under the gaze, Donghee cleared his throat and strode toward the courtyard where the mercenaries waited.

As Red Bear had said, the crowd was a mix.

Some looked dangerous and seasoned. Others, pale and thin, clutched nothing more than sticks for weapons.

“Do you think we’ll even get picked?”

“Not a chance.”

Henry’s voice trembled as he stared at the intimidating warriors in the center of the yard, envy written on his face.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t pick us either. What are we going to do?”

They had come running when they heard the Grace lord was urgently hiring.

Though Henry had never trained in swordsmanship, he thought himself decent at physical labor. But next to lifelong mercenaries, his scrawny body seemed pitifully weak.

“If we don’t get hired here, we’re finished.”

“I’m so hungry I can barely stand. My head’s spinning…”

They and a few friends had walked day and night to reach this place, with no money for carriage or horse.

All they’d had on the way was a few sips of water.

As their unease grew, the noisy yard suddenly quieted. Out stepped a knight in armor—and with him, the young lord, barely past boyhood.