I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 101

The news that the Duke was in Isser spread rapidly through messenger birds and communication crystals. Some dismissed it, arguing that the Duke had clearly departed for the capital, but the soldiers on the front lines who had seen his face left no room for doubt.

Yesterday, when I was in the study with Lyol.

I was anxiously awaiting news from the front, pacing the room and muttering to myself.

“Is His Grace returning safely…?”

“He’ll be fine,” Lyol reassured me.

But his words did little to calm my nerves. The Duke, who had departed with a grand procession, was supposed to appear to be heading to the capital, only to secretly return. He switched horses and took an undisclosed route.

Since I had no idea where that route was or when he might return, I couldn’t leave the study. So when the heavy bookshelf suddenly rattled and slid aside like a hidden door, I was utterly startled.

Emerging from the dust-covered secret passage, the Duke appeared as if nothing had happened, pulling me into an embrace despite his disheveled state.

“I’m back, Vi.”

Hearing his quiet whisper, I softly murmured, “I’ve been waiting.” His tense expression finally softened.

The Duke’s return was known only to a select few. Even when he removed his helmet on the battlefield, the lead rider in the capital-bound procession still appeared to be the Duke—his black steed, black armor, and helmet masking his identity.

The figure riding at the front of the capital-bound procession was none other than Sir Leon, who had swapped places with the Duke so seamlessly that no one suspected a thing.

When the Duke led the elite knights out of the castle gates, they swept through the front-line forces like a storm. The startled enemy troops retreated in disarray, blowing their horns in frantic retreat. Within mere minutes, the Duke returned, the gates shut firmly behind him, and the real defense began.

Several skirmishes followed. Each time the gates creaked open, it was not a breach but a terrifying sight for the enemy— the Duke and his elite knights emerging. They would swiftly target those operating siege weapons and disrupt the enemy’s chain of command, leaving their forces in disarray.

By the third skirmish, the battle ended within an hour. The Duke returned, and the heavy gates closed behind him with a resounding clang.

“Your Grace,” I called, stepping forward, only to pause as the Duke took a step back with a slightly alarmed expression. Surprised, I instinctively reached out and touched his armored arm—and froze.

The black armor was ice-cold and slick with wetness. I looked down at my hand and flinched. It was covered in blood.

Looking around, I noticed for the first time that all the knights, including the Duke, were similarly soaked in blood. Some even had blood dripping from their armor.

“The enemy won’t attack again today. The first unit may rest,” the Duke announced. His knights responded with a resounding cheer, heading into the large barracks-like building prepared for defense within the outer walls. After giving further instructions to the remaining knights, the Duke approached me.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I replied, though the pervasive smell of blood made my head spin.

“Go to my room and wait for me. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nodded and made my way to his room. Connected to a small meeting room, it was a modest space with just a bed, desk, fireplace, and bathroom. Hastily cleaned and organized in preparation for the war, it was now neat and orderly.

Sitting on a chair, I looked down at my boots and uniform trousers. Both felt unfamiliar. The boots, in particular, were much heavier than my usual footwear, leaving my feet and calves sore during the first days of wearing them.

“Vi.”

The door opened with a knock, and the Duke stepped inside, his helmet tucked under one arm. He was still in his black armor but now spotless, the blood completely wiped away.

“You did well,” he said.

“I didn’t do anything…” I muttered.

All I had done was station the troops in the south, anticipating the attack.

“If I had been delayed, the concentration of forces in the south would have ensured we held out for a long time. You did well, predicting the enemy’s gathering at Nartala.”

“…”

For a moment, I had forgotten how adept the Duke was at giving praise. Still, his words made me feel good.

“The enemy still outnumbers us,” I pointed out. “They may have retreated today, but tomorrow will be different. Their reinforcements are arriving continuously.”

“I know. That’s why the Emperor must be dealt with quickly.”

I nodded, but a faint sense of unease lingered in my chest. Lyol didn’t seem to be lying. With the remains in Lyol’s possession, it should be possible to neutralize all mind-control magic. It was the fastest way to end the war.

But… why did this unease persist? It felt like something was stuck in my chest, as if this solution was almost too easy. Hoping it was just a stray thought, I changed the subject.

“The Empire is in an uproar,” I remarked.

“They must look like they’ve seen a ghost,” he replied with a smirk.

The Duke chuckled softly. To the enemy, it must have felt like a ghost had appeared. The Duke of Isser, the Empire’s strongest and undefeated figure, commanded the battlefield with his very presence. The enemy’s morale was severely shaken, and his sudden reappearance sent shockwaves—both good and bad—through the Empire.

For those who loved tales of heroism and wars disconnected from their own lives, this was fodder for songs and poetry. But for those who had to face the Duke in battle, it was an unexpected disaster and a crushing blow of despair.

The battles continued. Even with the Duke present, the opposing forces consisted of an alliance of dozens of territories, their numbers vastly outmatching ours. Though defending a castle naturally favored the defenders, sheer manpower could eventually wear us down.

Yet despite prolonged fighting, the allied forces could not breach Isser’s outer walls. As we preserved the legacy of Isser’s impregnable defenses, another piece of shocking news arrived: the Isser army en route to the capital had suddenly vanished, including the “Duke” leading them.

The Empire plunged further into chaos. The disappearance occurred in a mountain range along the direct route from Isser to the capital. Shortly after their supply wagons and troops entered the mountains, a massive landslide struck. Around the same time, imperial forces sent by the Emperor were also reportedly in the area.

Rumors spread that Isser’s army had been caught in the landslide and scattered after being attacked in the chaos. These tales, tinged with the hopes of those wishing for the downfall of Isser, gained traction.

The Duke, however, paid no attention to such rumors. Preoccupied with the ongoing siege, he could not afford to let his focus waver.

The disappearance of Isser’s forces was no accident—it was part of a plan.

A Rainy Night

After another battle ended, heavy rain fell. The freezing downpour carried the groans of the enemy, their misery reaching beyond the walls. Amidst the storm, deserters began to sneak away from the enemy’s front lines to surrender.

Upon hearing the report, I accompanied the Duke to his study. Even though I had only briefly ridden out in a thick cloak, I was damp and chilled. Once inside, I dried myself off and settled by the fireplace. Before long, a knock came—not from the door, but from the direction of the bookshelf.

The Duke tapped the table lightly in response, and the bookshelf slid open.

Behind the heavy, moving bookshelf stood another “Duke.” For a moment, I flinched, glancing back and forth between the two of them. The man standing behind the bookshelf was the spitting image of the Duke, clad in black armor with a cape, the Duke’s ceremonial sword at his side.

The real Duke chuckled, amused by my confusion. Even the armored figure seemed to stifle a laugh from beneath his helmet. He stepped inside and removed his helmet.

“…Sir Leon.”

At that moment, I understood why those near the capital had been so bewildered. If someone in his appearance had ridden the Duke’s horse, Hertha, even I might have been fooled. Sir Leon bowed deeply.

“I’m relieved to see both of you safe.”

“And you as well. What about the others? Did they all escape safely?” the Duke asked.

“Of course. They’re hidden in various places, waiting as planned.”

Sir Leon referred to the knights who had accompanied the Duke on his campaign and were presumed missing in the mountains. The landslide had been orchestrated using magical tools, burying the Emperor’s forces while the Isser knights watched from a safe distance. Afterward, they scattered and went into hiding near the capital and surrounding areas.

They were waiting for the Duke’s return to the capital.

“The capital’s defenses have tightened significantly. It will be dangerous—are you sure about this?” Sir Leon’s gaze briefly rested on me, filled with concern.

“We planned this to minimize risk,” the Duke replied firmly.

His eyes also held a trace of worry as he looked at me. I shrugged lightly, knowing their concern was for my safety. But, truthfully, I was more worried about the Duke.

After discussing the next steps, the Duke rose from his seat. Sir Leon, who had been standing with his hands behind his back, instinctively straightened his posture.

“Sir Leon Rustis,” the Duke addressed him formally, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sir Leon immediately stood at attention, his demeanor grave as he listened.

“You will command the defense in my absence.”

“It will be an honor, Your Grace.”

The atmosphere was heavy with determination. After bowing deeply to us, Sir Leon donned his helmet, his cape billowing as he walked out. He would once again become “the Duke,” leading the vanguard to confront the enemy on the battlefield.

The Duke had been wearing his helmet consistently since his return, so there was no reason for anyone to doubt his identity. Shortly after Sir Leon left, there was another knock—this time from the actual door. At my invitation, Count Kiara, Lyol, and Reia entered one by one. Apart from the Count, the others were dressed lightly, ready to travel at a moment’s notice.

The Duke and I were similarly prepared.

“Take good care of the castle, Count,” the Duke said.

“You have my word,” the Count replied.

By the time the night was over, we would be gone from the castle—without anyone knowing.

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The Duke chuckled softly. To the enemy, it must have felt like they were facing a ghost. The Duke of Isser, the Empire’s strongest and undefeated figure, commanded the battlefield with his very presence. His sudden reappearance severely shook the enemy’s morale and sent shockwaves—both positive and negative—throughout the Empire.

For those who loved tales of heroism or war detached from their own lives, this was an exciting topic, ripe for poetry and song. But for those who had to fight against the Duke, it was an unexpected disaster and a harbinger of despair.

The battles continued. Even with the Duke’s presence, the allied forces of dozens of territories vastly outnumbered us. While defending a castle generally favored the defenders, it was impossible to predict the outcome against such overwhelming manpower.

Yet despite the prolonged fighting, the allied forces failed to breach Isser’s outer walls. As the days passed and the legacy of Isser’s impregnable defenses remained intact, another piece of shocking news arrived: the Isser army en route to the capital had suddenly vanished—including the “Duke” who was leading them.

This plunged the Empire into further chaos. The army had disappeared somewhere in the mountain range along the direct route from Isser to the capital. Shortly after their supplies and troops entered the mountains, a massive landslide occurred. Around the same time, imperial forces sent by the Emperor were also reported to have entered the area.

Rumors spread, suggesting that Isser’s army had been caught in the landslide and scattered after being attacked in the chaos. These rumors, fueled by those who hoped for Isser’s downfall, gained traction.

The Duke, however, paid no attention to such gossip. The siege remained a critical focus, and his attention could not waver.

The disappearance of Isser’s forces, however, was no accident—it was part of a deliberate plan.

A Rainy Night

After another battle ended, heavy rain poured down. The freezing downpour carried the groans of the enemy, their misery audible even beyond the walls. Amidst the storm, deserters began sneaking away from the enemy lines to surrender.

Upon hearing the report, I accompanied the Duke to his study. Even though I had only briefly ridden out in a thick cloak, I was damp and chilled. Once inside, I dried myself and settled by the fireplace. Before long, a knock came—not from the door, but from the direction of the bookshelf.

The Duke tapped the table lightly in response, and the bookshelf slid open.

Behind the heavy, moving bookshelf stood another “Duke.” For a moment, I flinched, glancing back and forth between the two of them. The man behind the bookshelf was the spitting image of the Duke, clad in black armor with a cape and the Duke’s ceremonial sword at his side.

The real Duke chuckled, amused by my confusion. Even the armored figure seemed to stifle a laugh beneath his helmet. He stepped inside and removed his helmet.

“…Sir Leon,” I said.

At that moment, I understood why those near the capital had been so bewildered. If someone with that appearance had ridden the Duke’s horse, Hertha, even I might have been fooled. Sir Leon bowed deeply.

“I’m relieved to see both of you safe.”

“And you as well. What about the others? Did they all escape safely?” the Duke asked.

“Of course. They’re hidden in various places, waiting as planned.”

Sir Leon referred to the knights who had accompanied the Duke on his campaign and were presumed missing in the mountains. The landslide had been orchestrated using magical tools, burying the Emperor’s forces while the Isser knights watched from a safe distance. Afterward, they scattered and went into hiding near the capital and surrounding areas.

They were waiting for the Duke’s return to the capital.

“The capital’s defenses have tightened significantly. It will be dangerous—are you sure about this?” Sir Leon’s gaze briefly rested on me, filled with concern.

“We planned this to minimize risk,” the Duke replied firmly.

His eyes also held a trace of worry as he looked at me. I shrugged lightly, knowing their concern was for my safety. But, truthfully, I was more worried about the Duke.

After discussing the next steps, the Duke rose from his seat. Sir Leon, who had been standing with his hands behind his back, instinctively straightened his posture.

“Sir Leon Rustis,” the Duke addressed him formally, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sir Leon immediately stood at attention, his demeanor grave as he listened.

“You will command the defense in my absence.”

“It will be an honor, Your Grace.”

The atmosphere was heavy with determination. After bowing deeply to us, Sir Leon donned his helmet, his cape billowing as he walked out. He would once again become “the Duke,” leading the vanguard to confront the enemy on the battlefield.

The Duke had been wearing his helmet consistently since his return, so there was no reason for anyone to doubt his identity. Shortly after Sir Leon left, there was another knock—this time from the actual door. At my invitation, Count Kiara, Lyol, and Reia entered one by one. Apart from the Count, the others were dressed lightly, ready to travel at a moment’s notice.

The Duke and I were similarly prepared.

“Take good care of the castle, Count,” the Duke said.

“You have my word,” the Count replied.

By the time the night was over, we would be gone from the castle without anyone knowing.

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