CHAPTER 293: WORTH OF TIME AND PATIENCE

Chapter Title: The Worth of Time and Patience

Three months is enough time to achieve anything, but Curtis had sat in Dabron for that long and waited for Carl!

But thanks to that, Carl also had less work to do.

And it would not be a bad excuse for the great Archduke Carl to personally meet this insignificant, worthless knight.

Carl didn’t call Curtis right away and didn’t meet him.

No matter what, Carl couldn’t come back from war and meet a guy like Curtis right away.

First, he had to take a rest, send letters here and there, meet and greet nobles, have a meal, and do everything else. Then, if Curtis asked to meet him, he would meet him.

Of course, it was best to rest well on the first day without any plans.

Carl unpacked at Davron Castle and spent the whole day resting.

"What do I do now?"

To be exact, it would be better to say that he spent time with Camilla in the room.

Camilla lay in Carl’s arms and asked him.

"I should retreat so that Adrian doesn’t catch me."

Carl responded, stroking Camilla’s hair.

Camilla had been away for too long because of the war.

Originally, she should have been heading to Adrian on time and working within Hardion, but things had gotten messed up because of Siana and Seid.

Adrian would now be convinced that Camilla had left his hands, so there was no point in her acting as a spy under Adrian anymore.

Maybe he was setting a trap and waiting to kill Camilla.

It was hard to imagine what kind of trap could kill Shadow Master Camilla, who possessed the Night Lady’s Garment, but Adrian would surely come up with a solution.

"So, can I stay by your side all the time from now on?"

Camilla laughed softly and brushed her lips against the nape of Carl’s neck.

"It would be a loss to keep you by my side. You have to continue to be active in various fields."

"...."

Just say it once and say it like that.

Camilla bit Carl’s neck hard. She felt Carl flinch, and her mood eased a little.

"We shouldn’t give Adrian too much time. We have to move quickly."

"...."

"Starting tomorrow."

Carl added as Camilla’s teeth clenched around his neck.

"Phew...."

Camilla sighed.

He knew everything else like a ghost, but he had no idea about women’s hearts.

It was okay though, because she found it cute.

’...Elke Gasto...’

Camilla thought of Gasto’s daughter, Elke Gasto.

Marquis Gasto, who tried to join hands with Carl to become emperor.

For that, Carl planned to have a political marriage with Elke Gasto.

She had said she was fine before, but now she felt like she was seething inside.

But the man who would become emperor could not be monopolized by a Tumarian assassin.

Camilla was someone who could not be revealed to the outside world, so what would her successor do? And how would Carl deal with the political fallout if he revealed her?

Camilla felt lonely while in Carl’s arms and hugged him closer.

At least for this moment, Carl was completely Camilla’s.

No one could disturb or defile that.

Even if Elke Gasto became empress, Camilla was the only woman who received complete love from Carl.

The fact that she was Carl’s first would never change.

Camilla repeated this to herself, trying to shake off her foolish thoughts.

It would have been nice if she had been in a position that was more politically helpful to Carl.

---

The next day, Camilla left embarrassing kisses and bites on Carl’s neck and shoulders before leaving, then stormed off as if she had done nothing at all.

Because it was the maximum trace left behind by the Master’s power without bleeding, Carl had to spend the day with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck.

Harmon and Milton, who knew about Camilla, glanced at Carl like that and exchanged mysterious glances.

Carl had a rather busy few days.

First, he sent a letter to Balos and told him that he would go to Himmeln, so that Balos, who was busy with state affairs, could adjust his schedule.

He also held a banquet inviting nobles who wanted to spend time with Archduke Carl, the main character of the victory.

Marquis Govan of Davron also thought it wouldn’t be bad if Carl stayed at his castle for a long time and held a banquet, so he willingly spent money to throw the most splendid banquet possible.

As Carl appropriated ownership of western Tumaria among others, Govan in particular benefited greatly.

He could have done this banquet a hundred times over.

After spending five more days like that, the nobles, exhausted from the continuous banquets, began to disperse, giving Carl some time to relax.

"Is Sir Curtis still in Dabron?"

"Yes, he asked to see Carl every morning."

Harmon answered Carl’s question.

Harmon knew that Carl was plotting against Curtis.

And he also knew that Carl had no time to waste on the likes of Curtis when there were other powerful nobles around.

So, he sent Curtis away every morning when he came to see Carl, and he didn’t even report it to Carl.

There was no need to bother Carl unnecessarily.

Harmon had now become so incredibly capable of sensing and acting on what Carl wanted without him having to say anything.

"Tell him I’ll make time after dinner."

"Yes, Carl."

He didn’t set a specific time to meet, but said he would make time.

Curtis had waited for Carl in Dabron for three months, and after Carl returned to Dabron, he had not been allowed to go near him for six days.

He must have been very impatient. Perhaps, now, the treatment of the disease had become a secondary goal, and seeing Carl’s face once had become his main goal.

Carl spent the morning training, the afternoon socializing, and then had a light dinner with several nobles.

And leaving Curtis alone, he met with Govan and discussed various matters.

Then, late at night, when the sun had set and it was nighttime, even in the blistering heat of summer rather than the shorter days of winter, Carl finally agreed to meet Curtis.

And not in the reception room, but in the training ground.

Carl’s stamina and resilience were far superior to others, so much so that even though he trained all morning and had a busy day, he still felt refreshed and energetic.

Carl, along with Catherine and Billford, swung his sword and spear in the training grounds, even wearing armor.

Unlike Carl, Catherine and Billford were normal humans who only dealt with mana, so they were quite exhausted from the morning’s training, but they were able to recover sufficiently as they rested throughout the afternoon.

Catherine and Billford were already training hard, but after the war, they were training even harder than before.

Even though the opponent was a master, it seemed that the experience of Carl being brutally beaten by one of them and almost dying was a great shock to them.

And in that place where the three were training with their armor clanking at an ambitious hour, Curtis Levin, who had waited for over three long months to meet Carl, finally set foot.

Her dark brown curly hair was cut short and slicked back, revealing her dark features clearly.

The southern part of the empire bordered the sea, so the weather was mild all year round.

Perhaps because of this, people in the southern part of the empire had large eyes, high noses, and smooth cheekbones.

For this reason, there was a story that there were many handsome men and beautiful women in the southern part of the empire.

...Honestly, to people from other regions, the people from the southern part of the empire were handsome, but they looked quite dirty.

Even Curtis’s chin was clearly divided into vertical wrinkles, even without a beard, so that a hundred people would all think, "That’s a Southern bastard."

So, it seemed like he was the kind of guy whose first thing he did after learning to walk was to date a girl.

"...."

But Curtis, despite his confident and handsome face, couldn’t even breathe properly after entering the training ground and could only watch.

Ka-gan! Kkad-deok!

Thud!

Thud!

"The response is slow!"

"Hoo!"

Catherine and Billford took turns sparring with Carl, pushing him to the brink of death.

Rather than simply teaching martial arts, they would strike him on the head with a sword wrapped in mana as if they were really going to kill him, knee him in the lower abdomen, trip him, knock him down, engage in body fights, and even wrestle by linking limbs together—going so far as to thrust daggers through gaps in his armor.

The 4th Prince, Grand Duke of the Empire, and Planter of Laurels, Carl Feld Hardion, who achieved a great victory in the war against the Tumarian rebels, was being beaten to death by his own knights.

Curtis, who couldn’t handle mana, would turn into minced meat the moment he entered there.

Even Curtis, who was born and raised in a knightly family and became a knight, had never been trained that way, and no one else trained that way.

Because you’d become a cripple before you reached the top.

Curtis was so overwhelmed that he staggered back and forth, staring blankly at the sight from a corner of the training ground.

To be honest, he had thought that things like the nickname Laurel Planter and the victory in war were all things Carl had gained because of his status as a grand duke.

But Archduke Carl was a man who drove himself with fearsome tenacity, and he was so unmanageable that two outstanding knights, taking turns fighting him, would eventually fall before him, exhausted.

After nearly two hours of beatings in the name of training, it was Catherine and Billford—who had been beating up Carl so excitedly—who collapsed.

They sat on the training ground, visors up, wiping the drool from their eyes and panting.

"Whew! Whoosh! Sob! Whoosh... Sir Curtis, is that right?"

On the other hand, Carl, who had been brutally beaten by the two knights to the point where it seemed like he would die, rolled on the floor, but though soaked in sweat and exhausted, he stood upright and looked back at Curtis.

"...Yes, Your Highness. This is Levin’s Curtis. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my request."

Curtis, who had been filled with annoyance at how great this young archduke was and how hard it was to see his face, bowed politely to Carl and expressed his gratitude.

It seemed like he really was a great person.

His back bent on its own.