Chapter 232: Freedman

The operation had gone smoother than expected.Alice and I had managed to rescue the prisoners and regroup with the allied guerrilla unit without losing a single person.

"Thank you for saving us!"

The freed soldiers, led by their squad leader, bowed deeply before Alice, their voices thick with emotion.

"Rescuing you was the least we could do," she replied softly. "Please continue to protect the Balant Fortress. The north still needs you."

Her words carried that familiar noble grace—calm, resolute, and dignified.

For a moment, the grim-faced soldiers looked like awestruck children before their goddess. Even the freezing northern wind seemed to still in her presence.

...Except for me.

Normally, I might have joined in that admiration too, but something else was eating away at my focus.

[Luciana’s Destruction Progress: 35%]

...Damn it.

The number had risen again.

It had always hovered stubbornly around 30%, but now it refused to dip below 35. Worse, it wasn’t static—it pulsed, fluctuating slightly higher each time I blinked.

And it wasn’t fluctuating in a good way.

If it kept climbing, it meant only one thing—Alice corruption was accelerating.

That woman was becoming unstable again.

My thoughts spiraled, the victory around me turning distant, hollow. I barely noticed the steam rising from the breath of the soldiers as they laughed and cheered.

Then—

Poke.

"Lady Alice?"

I blinked, startled out of my daze as Alice’s elbow nudged sharply against my side.

"What are you spacing out for?" she whispered under her breath, her voice a mix of amusement and irritation.

Her cool eyes darted sideways at me. "You’re supposed to be the calm one. Don’t tell me you’re about to faint before the next mission."

I forced an awkward grin. "I was... just checking the surroundings."

"By staring into space?" she said dryly, crossing her arms.

Her sharp tone made a few nearby soldiers glance over, but when she gave them her usual composed smile, they quickly looked away again, pretending not to notice.

I sighed quietly.

Right. No time to dwell on Alice now. We still had a fortress to secure, and Alice—

She was watching me, a hint of concern flickering behind her red eyes before she turned away.

—And Alice didn’t miss anything.

Alice’s gaze swept across the gathered soldiers like a blade of ice, sharp and commanding.

"What are you standing around for?" she said coolly, her voice carrying easily over the quiet murmurs. "Aren’t they waiting to give their thanks?"

The soldiers, startled by her tone, shifted awkwardly before bowing once more. I, caught in the middle of their hesitance, straightened my posture in a hurry.

"Ahaha, sorry," I said, scratching the back of my neck in a show of humility. "I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so I’m just trying to fulfill my duties as Lady Alice’s attendant. You don’t need to feel pressured."

One of the soldiers, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running along his jaw, shook his head. "Even so, you’ve gone through a lot for us..."

Despite me revealing my status as nothing more than her attendant, they still bowed deeply.

Their pride as soldiers of the northern front was the same as the lords who ruled from their castles — unbending and honorable.

It was the highest form of gratitude they could offer.

Alice nodded faintly, satisfied. "Then, since the formalities are done," she said, folding her hands behind her back, "you may leave."

Her tone was polite, but unmistakably dismissive.

I didn’t blame her — I couldn’t afford to be welcoming either.

Especially not to one particular man among them.

Freedman.

The leader of the prisoners’ squad.

He stood at the front, shoulders squared, his eyes calm but unreadable as always. When he met Alice’s gaze, a faint tension rippled through the air — something unseen, but palpable.

And yet, she didn’t notice it. Or rather, she chose not to.

’Freedman...’

The name tasted bitter even in my thoughts.

He wasn’t an ordinary soldier — I was certain of it. Every time he appeared near Alice, her life seemed to tilt further toward disaster.

Every encounter, every coincidence, every subtle shift in her path since his arrival — all of it fed into that same sinking feeling inside me.

The closer she drew to that man...

...the quicker her downfall crept toward her.

And I, bound by duty and circumstance, could only stand by and watch as the slow gears of her destruction began to turn once more.

But I couldn’t just stand here and watch her crumble.

Because her destruction was mine as well—whether I liked it or not.

"Lady, I have something to report."

Freedman’s voice broke through my thoughts. He approached with his usual soldier’s stride—steady, disciplined, and irritatingly direct. But before he could take another step toward Alice, I moved in front of him, blocking his path.

He frowned slightly, his brows knitting together. "Attendant? Why are you in my way?"

"There’s a procedure for reports," I said, keeping my tone calm but firm. "It would be best to seek General Bardik first rather than directly addressing the lady."

His sharp gaze flicked up and down my figure, as if trying to decide whether I was being arrogant or just stupid. The tension between us was palpable—his authority as a knight clashing with my quiet defiance.

Alice, who had been observing the exchange, tilted her head slightly. Her cool eyes lingered on me for a few seconds before she spoke.

"Alright. I’ll hear it later, then."

Freedman looked like he wanted to protest, but one glance from Alice silenced him. He exhaled through his nose, stepped back, and gave a curt bow.

"As you wish, my lady. Then, we’ll take our leave."

"Yes. You’ve only just recovered from your injuries, so please, don’t overexert yourself."

"Thank you for your concern," she replied with a faint smile. "But a ranger of the North can’t just sit still while there’s work to be done."

He looked as though he wanted to argue, his lips parting slightly—then closing again. His shoulders stiffened under my gaze.

—Was it because of the look I gave him? Probably.

When the others finally exited the tent, the silence that followed was soft but heavy. The faint sound of wind brushing against the tent’s fabric was the only thing left between us.

"So," she began quietly, turning her sharp eyes toward me, "why did you stop him from speaking?"

I hesitated for a heartbeat before answering, gauging her tone.

Alice’s voice wasn’t angry—but it wasn’t gentle either. It was the kind of calm that felt like the air before a storm, still and dangerous.

"I didn’t want you to waste time," I said carefully, keeping my tone neutral. "Freedman’s report isn’t urgent. Whatever he had to say can go through proper channels."


Her gaze narrowed slightly. "Proper channels? Or your channels?"

There it was—the faint edge beneath her words, the suspicion that never really left her when I was involved.

"You’ve been... on edge lately," she said, studying me as though I were another puzzle to solve. "Avoiding conversations, intercepting people, giving orders I didn’t give. What are you trying to hide from me, exactly?"

Her eyes glimmered like the sharp edge of frost.

I forced a laugh, though it sounded weaker than I’d intended. "You make it sound like I’m plotting against you, my lady. I’m just doing my job—keeping things efficient."

"Efficient," she repeated, as if tasting the word. "Is that what you call blocking a report meant for me?"

I didn’t reply. Because what could I say? That Freedman’s presence itself was a risk? That every time he got near her, her destruction surged like wildfire?

If I said that, she’d never believe me. She’d think I was paranoid. Or worse—possessive.

So I said nothing.

And in that silence, her voice softened—almost imperceptibly. "You’re lying again."

My chest tightened.

"...But I will overlooked this one time."

’I’ve exploited Luciana’s trust.’

I wasn’t comfortable.

It was as if I had deceived her kind heart, which genuinely cared for her subordinates.

’But, this is all for Luciana’s sake.’

I silenced my pricking conscience like that.

"Thank you for understanding."

Alice didn’t answer right away. Her eyes lingered on me, the faintest flicker of something—doubt, perhaps—passing through her cold expression before she finally turned away.

"...Just don’t make a habit of it," she said softly. "I don’t like people deciding what I should or shouldn’t hear."

"Yes, my lady."

Her silhouette, framed by the fading light filtering through the tent’s fabric, looked both regal and fragile. Even from behind, I could tell she was exhausted. The strain in her shoulders, the subtle tremor in her breath—signs she would never show to anyone else.

Yet, despite her composure, that faint crimson glimmer in her eyes seemed brighter than before. The destruction within her was growing restless, whispering beneath her calm exterior.

[Alice’s Destruction Progress: 36%]

It rose again.

’Damn it... it’s getting worse.’

No matter how hard I tried to steer her away from danger, the world seemed determined to drag her toward it.

And all I could do was watch.

"Is something wrong?" she asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

I straightened immediately. "No, nothing at all, my lady."

Her eyes narrowed just slightly before she exhaled, dismissing the matter.