Madness

Silence fell over the dense forest after Gevra gave her answer.

A moment later.

Romain spoke, "Witch, it seems I have won."

Gevra hadn't chosen Shasta, nor had she chosen him, but had chosen this outcome.

But for Romain, this was a win.

Shasta didn't know what to say either; she was extremely dissatisfied with this result.

But what could be done? This was Gevra's own choice.

If she were to forcibly impose her will... setting aside whether she could even do such a thing, even if she did, Romain and Dick would join forces to stop her.

Even she couldn't ignore everyone present at the same time.

"It looks like I made a trip for nothing," Shasta muttered to herself.

She had worked so hard, only for it to be all for naught. Her feelings could be imagined.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Shasta," Gevra said, feeling very guilty.

Shasta glanced at Gevra, then closed her dark eyes. When she opened them, her expression had regained its tranquility.

"Romain, I ask you, how will you treat Gevra from now on?"

Romain stroked his chin, realizing that Shasta placed great importance on his answer. If she were even slightly dissatisfied, Shasta would still forcibly take Gevra away.

She might have some status in the Witch Forest. Even if she couldn't summon the entire Witch Forest, it was normal for her to summon a few companions.

The purpose of these witches was merely to take away their companion and would not harm him, a noble.

And he couldn't possibly report them to the Church.

The Church and the witches were both idiots.

And he disliked the Papal Knights even more than the witches.

But the answer wasn't troublesome.

Besides, this was a promise he should make.

Gevra had chosen to stay in Sigg Town instead of going out with Shasta, and Romain felt obligated to arrange her future.

So Romain said, "I will establish a Noble's Contract! In the name of Armor-Splitting, I promise that Gevra will not suffer any form of persecution on my territory. Even if the Church discovers her existence, I will not compromise. I swear that as long as she is loyal to me and does not betray me, I will unconditionally protect her for the rest of her life and will not allow her to suffer any shame or betrayal!"

As soon as he said this, everyone present was moved.

A Noble's Contract was a very special oath. A noble who wrote such a contract could not violate its contents; otherwise, the King would revoke all their rights, power, and status.

For the noble class, violating a Noble's Contract was worse than being killed. At least they could gain honor after death, while living would only bring them scorn.

Shasta was also greatly astonished. This contract was too generous and lenient for Gevra. It didn't seem like an agreement a noble should make, and it even mentioned confronting the Church directly.

"If you had made this promise earlier, I might not have vied with you for Gevra's ownership."

Romain snorted. Could being coerced and being willing be the same thing?

If Gevra had indeed been drawn by lot, in his opinion, this was just a basic condition—he hadn't even promised how much salary Gevra would receive each month.

Romain couldn't be bothered to answer and simply said, "Do you want to work for me too?"

"You're thinking too much."

Romain clicked his tongue. He genuinely hoped to recruit Shasta. "The situation for witches isn't good, is it? The Church's pursuers make you hide everywhere. Why not stay here with me?"

"That won't be the case for long!" Shasta said coldly.

"Oh?!" Romain became alert.

Shasta knew she had spoken out of turn. She pursed her lips, "In any case, you just need to take good care of Gevra. If I find out she's been wronged in any way, I won't let you off in the future."

Romain greatly admired this witch. Just for the sake of being of the same kind, she could do this much. Regardless, she could be considered loyal and righteous.

He quite liked dealing with people like her; there was no need to guard against them.

"Your name?"

"Shasta, the Nightmare Witch Shasta!"

Romain had never heard this name.

It was normal, though. The Witch Forest was an underground organization, like rats scurrying in the streets. The more famous they were, the faster they died.

Romain smiled faintly, "If you have nowhere to go in the future, come to me. But you must come discreetly. I'm not ready to confront the Church yet."

This statement made Shasta look at Romain twice more, her expression quite strange.

Although nobles and the Church were at odds, it hadn't reached the point of open warfare. Why was this guy in front of her preparing to go to war with the Church?

He must be crazy!

Regardless, having an additional potential ally was a good thing for the witches.

She once thought that nobles and the Church were birds of a feather.

Now, it seemed that wasn't entirely the case.

Of course, Shasta also knew that Romain was a rare breed among nobles, even across the entire continent.

She recalled a legendary figure from 150 years ago, renowned and glorious.

But she quickly dismissed the thought, perhaps the two shouldn't be linked.

Because their statuses were vastly different, like heaven and earth. Not to mention Romain, even Grand Duke Armor-Splitting would have to bow down and pledge allegiance.

Aaron had mostly finished organizing the battlefield.

He came beside Romain and whispered, "Three guards are dead, eight injured, four of them severely. One might not be able to continue fighting."

Counting the situation at Garin's cabin, the guards had suffered more than half their casualties.

Romain was extremely dissatisfied with the quality of these guards, but he couldn't be too harsh.

Romain looked towards the distant mountains and forests.

"I wonder how Green is doing."

Meanwhile, Green was still on his way to pursue Borg.

About forty to fifty years ago.

On the northern coastline of the Black Iron Kingdom, a coastal village town called Reef Town was invaded by North Ice Pirates.

And if we go back another hundred years from this point, which would be 150 years ago, pirates were also extremely rampant then.

And at that time, the man later known as The Conqueror stepped forward.

He pointed his sword at the nations, suppressed pirates, pacified barbarians, and beat all the forces on this continent black and blue, fighting all the way to the home of the North Ice Pirates, Igo, conquering it, and finally establishing the vast Black Iron Kingdom.

However, the era ruled by The Conqueror had eventually passed.

A hundred years later, the North Ice Pirates returned, but no second Conqueror appeared on this continent.

Reef Town was one of the victims of pirate harassment. Unlike other places, the pirates from the northern ice sea regarded it as an outpost and supply point, and resided there for a considerable period. During this time, the pirates also defiled many women.

One of these young women, after her family was killed, suffered the same fate, and ten months later gave birth to a baby boy.

And this child was named Borg.

Life was difficult in that era, and it was hard for a young woman to survive with an infant, so she had to resort to various means to support Borg and herself.

For some reason or thought, she did not abort or kill this "bastard" child, but raised him with all her heart.

The young woman raised her first child.

Perhaps due to the Northman pirate bloodline, Borg was strong and grew up vigorously from a young age.

When Borg was ten years old, this woman, who was not yet twenty-five, finally died of overwork.

Her impoverished life had not left her child with any belongings.

After his mother's death, Borg lost everything, but he showed no obvious grief, accepting the event normally.

In the following time, he found places to sleep, and if he had no food, he would steal. He was also someone good at fighting and brawling, and this pirate nature was evident even in his childhood, which caused his mother much suffering.

Because of his combat talent, Borg later joined a mercenary group, beginning a life of wandering and fighting everywhere. His combat skills and physical fitness also steadily improved, and he killed more and more people.

He undertook various mercenary missions for ten years, day in and day out.

Strangely, although he was accustomed to killing, he often recalled childhood memories after becoming an adult.

This made Borg feel incredulous, as he had never missed his childhood before.

It made him believe he had long forgotten everything about the past and wouldn't be moved by anything.

As that frail yet resilient figure appeared more and more frequently in his mind.

Something hidden deep within his bones seemed to be unearthed.

At that time, he felt it was natural. The experiences he had cast aside during his growth, looking back on them as an adult, Borg found that he gradually began to understand many things, such as the hardships of life, the heaviness of burdens, and the kindness of a loving mother.

In his childhood ignorance, he experienced a drastic change in fate, losing the person most important to him and who loved him the most.

And at that time, he felt no sorrow about it.

This seasoned mercenary, who killed like a butcher and moonlighted as a pirate, belatedly realizing all this, felt a deep, unshakeable sorrow well up within him, like a draft cattle chewing its cud.

Every time he remembered past events, the sorrow in his heart would intensify, as if surging tides were about to drown him.

Many times, he would wake up from his dreams to find dried tear stains on his face.

His comrades would mock him, calling him a coward who cried for his mother in the middle of the night.

Borg was a mature warrior. He knew he could no longer fight, as he had become fragile, and his axe for killing was no longer sharp.

He left his former living environment, came to the continent, found a suitable piece of land, built a house, cleared the wasteland, learned farming, bought seeds, and settled down.

But things were far from over.

What he saw were numb and suffering common people.

They were cold and hungry, poor and destitute.

That thin, frail figure often appeared before his eyes.

Borg began to wonder why his mother, in his childhood, had raised him with such difficulty? To the point that when she died, her body was like withered, dried firewood.

Why did the farmers toil until they were exhausted, yet still couldn't get enough to eat? Where did all the grain they grew go?

When he witnessed a farming family being unable to pay their taxes, their twelve-year-old daughter was taken away by guards to become a slave on the manor.

Borg watched the girl's figure and his mother's past figure seem to overlap.

And he did nothing.

He simply returned to his dwelling, took out a battle axe that hadn't been used in a long time from a wooden chest, and used a stone to grind away the rust.

On that pitch-black night, he snuck into the nobles' castle, killed all the guards and the viscount lying in bed.

He loaded all the wealth and grain onto carts and distributed them to all the farmers in that area, telling them to hide it and say that he, the bandit, had taken everything if anyone asked.

But things didn't go as planned. His seemingly flawless actions were still seen through by the discerning noble lord—several farmers who had received money and grain turned in the stolen goods and indignantly exposed his actions as a bandit to the nobles.

As a result, the remaining farmers who did not report him were all executed by the nobles.

A huge gallows hung with one corpse after another, including the frail girl whose image overlapped with his mother in his eyes.

The girl's unusually emaciated figure hung there, like a floating angel, her feet and tattered clothes swaying in the breeze, displayed as a warning for three full days.

It was also from that time that Borg the bandit went mad.