Under the Oak Tree Novel - Chapter 230

230 Side Story Chapter 36

Winter that year was harsher than ever, and Riftan threw himself into Anatol’s restorations like a man possessed. Despite keeping busy with castle renovations and building the ramparts along the border, his shattered pride refused to mend.

Standing in front of the battlement, Riftan clenched his jaw as he looked down at the frozen earth. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the Duke of Croyso’s scornful gaze. At night, that image turned into Maximilian’s terrified eyes. Riftan pulled a hand down his face, appalled at himself for his lingering feelings after all the humiliation he had suffered.

It was high time he broke free of this pointless fantasy. He was not worthy to even kneel before her.

A grub should keep to the ground. Looking higher will only bring misfortune.

His stepfather’s words now rang with a bone-deep truth. Her existence only made him feel more wretched. As long as he had feelings for her, he would have to carry that pain for the rest of his life. The rest of his days would be lived in abject loneliness, all because he could not have a single woman.

I must let go now.

Not wishing to degrade himself any further, Riftan swore to never again step foot inside Croyso Castle. No longer would he allow himself to seek her out. There would be no more opportunistic trips to the duchy to catch a glimpse of a woman who viewed him as a pest.

Climbing down from the wall, Riftan made his way toward his bleak castle. He prayed that by reimagining his past humiliation over in his head, he would be able to erase her from his heart.

A few months later, when the cold snap was coming to an end, rumors began to swirl of the dragon awakening in the Lexos Mountains. Each kingdom sent out its own scout party into the Misty Forest. When every one of them ended up massacred, the Seven Kingdoms began campaign preparations in earnest.

…..
Thousands of soldiers were sent out to encamp around the Lexos Mountains. True to King Reuben’s predictions, it was a time of great upheaval. Terrified citizens packed up what they could and moved north en masse. The long procession of fleeing commoners seemed to stretch forever, and the landed nobles struggled to stop their serfs from following suit.

The Duke of Croyso bore the brunt of the situation. Riftan’s forehead creased as he read the scout’s report. Upon receiving a royal decree to ride out to battle, the duke had summoned his vassals for a deliberation. Riftan could not help but wonder how the sly man would attempt to weasel his way out of this predicament.

His lips twisting into a cynical smile, he tossed the parchment into the fire. The flames blazed, briefly illuminating the barracks tent in a bright glow. He poked the fire with kindling to make sure the report was completely burned before walking out. The night sky was tinged with the light of dawn, and bluish silhouettes loomed above the foggy forest.

In exchange for their exemption from the campaign, the landed nobles of the western regions had been tasked with camping near the Lexos Mountains to defend the kingdom’s border from monsters. The monster population in these parts numbered hundreds of thousands, and the emergence of an apex predator would result in mass migration. It was the duty of the western nobles to prevent the creatures from invading Wedon.

Riftan was busy inspecting the makeshift blockade when a soldier rushed over to him.

“Sir Riftan, a messenger from Croyso Castle is asking for you.”

Riftan scowled. “What business does the duke have with me?”

“I am not privy to the details. He claims he has instructions to speak only to you.”

“Tell him to wait,” Riftan said coldly. “The reconnaissance isn’t over yet.”

Though the soldier’s expression grew troubled, Riftan pretended not to notice as he started toward the watchtower.

The sun was slowly rising above the dark peaks. Soon, tens of thousands of men would have to risk their lives to march into those mountains. How many would return alive? Gazing at the twelve summits piercing the sky, Riftan pulled out his flask and took a sip. Already, hundreds had marched through the dragon’s barrier and lost their lives. It was hard to tell how many more would join the ever-growing pile of corpses.

By high noon, the soldier returned to urge Riftan again. “Sir Riftan, the messenger is insisting he needs to speak with you urgently.”

Riftan furrowed his brows. Though he wanted to ignore the duke’s messenger, he did not wish to start unnecessary trouble at a time like this.

In the end, he said with a sigh, “I will see him now.”

The soldier promptly led him to the tent where the messenger was waiting. After being brushed off for half the day, the duke’s man met him with visible anger.

Forgoing a proper greeting, the messenger’s bushy beard quivered as he said, “I rode without rest for three and a half days to meet with you. If His Grace hears that you kept me waiting this long, he will be greatly displeased.”

Riftan glared at the man. “I was ordered by His Majesty to keep the borders tightly secured from any monster getting through. Are you implying the duke’s message takes precedence over the king’s commands?”

The man’s mouth gaped open as if to retort before he pressed his lips together without a word. There was a moment of tense silence.

The man said in a calmer tone, “There are thousands of soldiers manning the border. I doubt the blockades will fall from a few minutes of your absence.”

“I was merely fulfilling my obligations,” Riftan said, looking annoyed. “I suggest you not waste more time complaining and get to the point. What do you want with me?”

“I’m sure you have heard that His Majesty has commanded the duke to lead the Dragon Campaign,” the messenger said in a low voice as though struggling to suppress his indignation. “His Grace wishes to make you an offer.”

“An offer?” Riftan repeated, narrowing his eyes.

He found it laughable that the duke thought he would ever be inclined to accept an offer from the nobleman who had openly mocked him.

Resolving to reject whatever proposal the messenger was about to make, Riftan snarled, “And what might that be?”

The man looked frightened at Riftan’s hostility. He hesitated for a long time before speaking.

“The duke has said… if you take command of the campaign in his stead, he will allow you to take his eldest daughter, Maximilian Croyso, as your bride.”

Riftan gaped.

“What?” he said, unable to comprehend the messenger’s words.

Seeing the stunned look on Riftan’s face, the messenger calmly added, “The fate of the entire Western Continent rests on the outcome of this campaign. His Grace wishes to entrust the task to the most experienced and competent warrior.”

“And… you say that warrior is me?”

“The duke thinks very highly of your abilities.”

Incredulous laughter spilled out of him. It was obvious what the duke wanted. Could the man be any more shameless? Despite knowing he should storm out of the tent in righteous anger, Riftan’s legs felt bound in an invisible trap.

His face blanched, and he rubbed his forehead as the messenger’s arrogant voice rang through the tent.

“To have His Grace’s daughter as your bride — is it not the greatest honor? It is not an opportunity that will come again.”

“Should I bow down in gratitude?” Riftan said through gritted teeth.

Behind the duke’s show of benevolence was an attempt to exploit him. Rage surged in Riftan’s chest. How little did the duke think of his intelligence? The greatest shame, however, stemmed from the fact that he was wavering.

His eyes growing bloodshot from the humiliation, Riftan clenched his fists. He could not forgive himself for feeling swayed by such an appalling offer. If he were to accept, it would endanger more lives than just his own. It would affect not only the fate of Anatol, but also that of the Remdragon Knights. Would he risk the lives of his men to satisfy his own greed? Riftan clenched his jaw.

Moreover, Maximilian Croyso despised him. She would no doubt want a worthy husband, someone better than a lowborn mutt born out of wedlock.

Riftan’s heart ripped as he spoke his next words.

“I decline the offer.”

It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Feeling a deep void opening in his heart, Riftan fixed his gaze on the floor. When he looked up, the enraged face of the messenger stared back at him.

“You would refuse the chance to form a binding relationship with the duke’s house?” the messenger said threateningly.

“I have an estate whose people are my responsibility,” Riftan responded stiffly. “Inform His Grace that he should protect his own honor.”

Shooting Riftan an icy glare, the messenger slowly rose to his feet. “I shall convey your sentiments, but I assure you, you will regret your words.”

The messenger clicked his tongue in genuine pity as he walked away.

“The duke never fails to accomplish his will. It would have been wise to comply when you had the chance.”

Riftan opened the tent flap to urge the man along. The messenger walked past him, his nose in the air. As soon as his footfalls sounded distant, Riftan felt plunged into a deep pit. The urge to immediately chase after the duke’s messenger reared up. As he fought against the desire, he bit down on his lip so hard that it drew blood.

This is the right thing. I did the right thing.

***

“I knew the man was shameless, but to think he would stoop so low,” Hebaron said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Thanks to the soldiers standing guard outside the tent during Riftan’s meeting with the Croyso messenger, word of the duke’s offer spread like wildfire through the ranks. Each of the knights voiced outrage at the duke’s arrogance.

“I wager not even King Reuben was expecting such a cunning move.”