The Hunter of Hawk and Wolf-Chapter 36 : Chapter 36

Cheers for Sevha’s victory surged through the tournament grounds.
Even as soldiers, on the orders of Teresse, dragged the unconscious Dalton from the field.
Incidentally, Teresse had been working as a healer.
Denied his victor’s glory, the Count screamed for silence, but the spectators’ cheers did not stop.
The one who silenced their fervor was Sevha.
Sevha dismounted from Toto and walked toward First Prince Duce on the dais. The cheers from the stands slowly died.
As the grounds fell quiet, Eshu struck his scabbard against the earth and shouted, “Honor to the victor!”
The Blanc Knights immediately followed his lead, striking their own scabbards against the ground.
“Romance to the victor!”
At once, noblewomen waved their handkerchiefs at Sevha, their eyes alight with admiration.
Then, as Sevha stood before the Prince, Eshu’s voice boomed one last time.
“Reward to the victor!”
Immediately, Sevha dropped to one knee.
The Prince looked down at him and spoke.
“You have shown both honor and romance. To reward you, I first ask your name.”
Sevha slowly raised his head.
It’s not yet time to reveal my true name.
Sevha dan Anse was a name that, to the Empire, should not exist.
He had to hide his true name until he had the strength to protect himself.
But the memory of the Anse massacre—the images of Edgar and Mari dying—cried out against his reason.
Lost… even if it is lost, I don’t want to deny Dan Anse.
As these contradictory thoughts warred within him, a name surfaced in Sevha’s mind.
“Dan.”
A name that had lost its family: Anse.
“Dan le Blanc.”
And a name that proved his claim to the Blanc bloodline.
When Sevha declared himself of the Blanc bloodline, commoner and noble alike were stunned.
“D-don’t be absurd!”
The Count was the first to recover from the shocking declaration.
“How dare you falsely claim the blood of—!”
But before the Count could finish, Eshu and the Blanc Knights dropped to one knee.
Eshu cried out, “Dan le Blanc! The Marquis commanded us to protect this man ten years ago. The Blanc Knights thus acknowledge that Dan le Blanc is of the Blanc bloodline!”
Immediately, Bishop Piétang and his priests also bowed.
“Dan le Blanc. The Marquis entrusted us with his education ten years ago. The Papal See thus acknowledges that Dan le Blanc is of the Blanc bloodline.”
Both the knights and priests vouched for Sevha’s identity.
The Count was about to resort to threats.
He screamed, “Lies! This is treason! Treason I—!”
But the innkeeper from Rasseu smiled slyly in the stands and bellowed over his voice.
“Dan le Blanc! The legitimate heir of Blanc!”
Hearing this, the commoners realized Sevha’s arrival was their chance to change the terrible reality of the Blanc Territory.
And so, all the commoners cried out in one voice.
“Dan le Blanc! The legitimate heir of Blanc!”
The Count tried to scream at them to shut up, but Tito stopped him.
“My lord Count. This is not like you. Read the mood of the crowd.”
The Count scanned the commoners’ faces.
Was it because he had won such a dramatic victory? Or because they finally had hope for the first time in a long while?
The commoners saw Sevha as if he were the hero who had come to save them.
“If you continue to deny him…”
“There will be chaos,” the Count finished, unable to refute Tito’s words.
He fell silent, clenching his teeth.
Meanwhile, Duce swept his gaze over the commoners and called out to Sevha.
“Dan le Blanc, speak! What reward do you ask for your honor and romance?”
Instantly, Eshu and Piétang tensed, realizing what would happen if he asked to be recognized as heir.
It would be meaningless.
An acknowledgment from the despised Duce would change nothing.
What he needed to demand here was not the title of heir, but a chance to earn it.
Sevha knew this as well.
“Give me… the chance to drive out the Tusk Tribe.”
An opportunity to defend the Blanc Territory?
Silence fell over the grounds.
“Dan le Blanc! Descendant of the Shield Knight! Defend the Blanc Territory!”
The commoners erupted in cheers.
“Dan le Blanc. In the Marquis’s stead, I command you. Subdue the Tusk Tribe and protect Blanc.”
Sevha bowed his head as the Prince gave his command.
After the Prince turned and left the grounds, the commoners began to chant Sevha’s name. The nobles glanced nervously between Sevha and the Count.
Observing it all, the Count conceded, “I have lost.”
The commoners’ support had shifted entirely to Sevha. The nobles, who had thought the game was over, began to walk the tightrope once more.
“I have lost…
this
time.”
The Count approached Sevha.
Sevha rose to his feet and faced him.
“Dan le Blanc. I doubt that is your real name… but it will be soon enough. The dead can’t complain about the names on their tombstones.”
Sevha scoffed at the threat.
He retorted, “Don’t you worry. If you die for the crime of disrespecting the heir of Blanc, you won’t even get a tombstone.”
The Count’s face turned crimson.
Just then, a subordinate ran up to Tito, who was standing behind the Count, and whispered in his ear.
Tito’s mouth fell open, and he relayed the news to the Count.
“M-my lord Count.”
“What is it!”
“Sir Dalton is dead.”
Not only the Count but Sevha, too, was startled.
Dalton couldn’t have been hurt that badly, could he?
The Count, reeling from the news of Dalton’s death, said nothing more to Sevha and hurried toward the tents with Tito.
And just as Sevha was left alone… he heard footsteps behind him.
Sevha turned to see Teresse, her face concealed by bandages.
Seeing her red eyes through the gaps in the wrappings, Sevha considered a grim possibility.
“Teresse.”
“Yes?”
“Did you… kill Dalton?”
Teresse’s smile was elegant. “Don’t be foolish. He died because his injuries were severe.”
“Do you take me for a fool who can’t even gauge how wounded my own prey is?”
Teresse’s elegant smile bloomed like a flower. “And what if I did kill him?”
“Why did—!”
“Sevha, look only at the result. Dalton was the only true knight the Count possessed. His death is to our advantage.”
Sevha found an immediate metaphor for her smile.
Sweet poison.
But he did not voice the comparison. He merely turned his back on her.
Then, Teresse asked, “Anything else to say?”
“What more is there to say? We’re just using one another, aren’t we, Magus?”
His voice was cold.
Teresse touched the bandages on her face.
“Indeed, Hunter.”
A week later, people occupied the Marquis’s office for the first time in a long while. It had done nothing but gather dust since the Marquis fell ill and the Count, as acting lord, neglected his duties.
“The situation?” Sevha asked from behind the dust-covered desk.
Across from him, Teresse and Eshu nodded.
A little farther away, Legra was simply playing with Shri.
“It is as planned,” Eshu ed, detailing the mood in the territory since the tournament.
“The commoners of Rasseu who saw you, and even those who did not, all support you.”
“I’m not sure you can call it support when they don’t even know me… but fine. What of the nobles?”
Eshu’s expression immediately darkened.
“They call you the ‘Young Master of the Pleasure District.’”
“I lied about being a bastard, but I never said my mother was from the pleasure district… Is that what these nobles automatically think of whenever they hear the word ‘bastard’?”
“Filth sees only filth.”
“Indeed. That is why in Anse, ‘bastard’ is another way of saying one’s parents were once prisoners.”
“I-I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Sevha let out a sigh, the grim joke fading, and sat down in the chair behind the desk.
“Should I give up on gaining the vassals’ support?”
Teresse replied immediately, “You can’t gain the title without the vassals’ support. Even if you did, a rebellion would break out before long.”
Sevha nodded and looked at the window behind him.
In the garden outside, Prince Duce, who for some reason was still staying in Rasseu, was talking with his knights.
He asked, “Can’t we get help from the royal family?”
“The royal family are wolves, always watching for a chance to seize a vassal’s territory.”
“Prince Duce doesn’t seem like that kind of man.”
“That one is a royal in name only.”
Growing tired of Teresse’s counterarguments, Sevha tore his gaze from the Prince.
He stared at her, his expression demanding a solution, not more problems.
So she said, “There’s no need to win over all the vassals. We only need to win over the ones the Count has abandoned.”
“Abandoned vassals?”
Eshu explained, “There are vassals who have fallen from the Count’s favor. They receive no support and are constantly raided by the Tusk Tribe.”
“So if we drive out the Tusk Tribe, we’ll naturally gain the support of those vassals.”
Having chosen his prey, Sevha immediately began to consider what preparations were needed.
“First… we have to confirm the Tusk Tribe’s military strength. Then we have to prepare our forces accordingly.”
“And, I assume, do so before the Count does?” Teresse asked.
Sevha clicked his tongue in annoyance. “The Count is also moving to drive out the Tusk Tribe?”
“He has issued a summons to his own domain and to the nobles who follow him.”
“The reason, of course, is…”
“Because if you drive out the Tusk Tribe, he might truly lose his position as heir.”
Sevha found it laughable that the Count, who had ignored the Tusk Tribe until now, was now scrambling as if his bottoms were on fire.
But it won’t be funny if he drives them out before I do.
Sevha committed the stakes to memory and asked Eshu, “What forces can we muster?”
“At present, only the Blanc Knights.”
“So many.”
He didn’t yet know the Tusk Tribe’s strength, but it was clear the Blanc Knights alone would not be enough.
Sevha pondered how he could quickly gather more troops and then spoke.
“Magus. Can you spread a song through the lands surrounding the Anse territory?”
“A song, all of a sudden…? Ah. Ahh. Yes. Good. I understand. Yes. I can do it. What verse should it contain?”
Sevha looked out the window. In the distance, he could see the Frost Mountains.
“Dan le Blanc has Mari’s bouquet.”
“Mari’s… bouquet?” Teresse asked quizzically.
Sevha’s eyes fell shut. “If all things in this world could be expressed with words, there would be no songs.”
Teresse looked for a moment at Sevha’s sad expression reflected in the windowpane, then nodded.
“I’ll try to win over merchants and bards. But the song will not spread quickly.”
“I know. Spreading the song… is a contingency.”
“And the primary plan?”
Sevha opened his eyes and lowered his gaze.
Through the window, he could see countless refugees gathered outside the walls of Rasseu.
Looking at them, Sevha spoke, his voice cold.
“Conscription.”