The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 239

Chapter 239

The restrained man struggled desperately with his limbs on the carpet. His rough hand with protruding veins scratched the back of Varkas’s hand ceaselessly, and his muscular legs kicked his body continuously; however, Varkas did not care and pressed down on his neck with all his might.

Red veins stood out in his eyes, wide open with terror. The man opened his mouth completely trying to inhale air in any way possible while emitting choking sounds, and then extended his hand outward, fumbling along the floor.

The tips of his fingers brushed against a wine bottle that had fallen from the overturned table. Garis gripped it and swung it mercilessly toward Varkas’s head.

Varkas felt a heavy impact strike his temple, and at the same time perceived a viscous liquid and shards of glass running down the side of his face. Nonetheless, he did not move a single millimeter; on the contrary, he increased the stranglement of the man’s neck with greater force.

He did not know why he was attacking the person he had spent almost his entire life protecting. While suffocating the breath of the man submerged in a fit of rage that burned his retina, the muscles in his fingers suddenly began to twist violently.

The spasm spread in the blink of an eye to the entirety of his arm. It seemed as if each muscle bundle were moving on its own against his will. He squeezed his trembling fist with excessive force to suppress it, but this time he felt a heavy tightness in his chest.

The pressure suffocating his chest suddenly ascended toward the back of his neck; it was as if he were strangling himself with his own hands. Blood rushed to his eyes from the sensation of suffocation that was about to cut off his breath, but Varkas did not even blink and increased the pressure of his cramped fingers cruelly.

At that instant, along with a scream loaded with shock, someone clung to his forearm. He resisted and did not move from his spot. Then, four pairs of hands surrounded him from the left and right like sturdy ropes, and pulled him away by force from the crown prince.

—Your Excellency the Duke! Please, stop!

In the end, the fingers strangling Garis’s neck gave way weakly. Immediately, Garis escaped from beneath him while holding his throat and letting out a spasmodic cough.

A woman ran toward Garis and held him tightly in her arms, then looked at Varkas with eyes sunken in astonishment. After a long pause, he was able to recognize that it was Ayla Roem Gerta.

“Why is this woman in Raidegu Castle?”

As he narrowed his eyes, the body of the man holding him suddenly tensed.

—M… sir. There is blood…

The man’s gaze fixed on Varkas’s mouth. Varkas furrowed his brow; his wound must be on his head, why was he looking at that place? He brought a hand up and touched his lips, feeling a viscous texture. Only then did he realize that the blood that had bypassed his throat was soaking his chin and the back of his neck.

It was not only that; the palm of his hand was swollen and red as if it had suffered burns. As he looked at that with dull eyes, the echo of a muffled laugh was heard from a nearby place.

Varkas raised his head and looked at the man sitting on the opposite side. Garis, who was holding his neck full of black finger marks while panting heavily, let out a twisted laugh. In the darkness, a gaze shone in which anger and a sense of betrayal were mixed with a strange and distorted euphoria.

—Look at how you are. —The echo of his muffled laugh resonated in the room—. This is what happens when you try to oppose your destiny.

—G… Garis…

Garis brushed away the hand of his sister, who was pulling at the edge of his clothes as if trying to stop him, and shouted in an altered tone:

—It is no use resisting! You are ours! And because you tried to oppose that, that woman died too!

The air in the room froze in an instant. The knights of the Shierkan house looked at the crown prince with rigid faces, but Garis did not stop despite the tense atmosphere.

—Are my words perhaps false? If she hadn’t married you, that woman would be alive now! Because you tried to step off the path laid out, Talia Roem Gerta died! Destiny pushed her aside to return you to your rightful place!

—Your Highness the Crown Prince! —Daren, who could no longer bear to listen further, stepped between them. But Garis did not care and continued with his shouts:

—You cannot escape! Ever since my mother took you out of the stone sarcophagus, your life belongs to us!

—Garis!

At that moment, with a sound similar to a whip crack, the crown prince’s head deflected. Garis looked at his twin sister as if he could not believe what had happened.

The princess looked at her brother with frozen eyes, then rose from her seat and shouted to the guardsmen stationed by the door:

—What are you doing instead of escorting His Highness the Crown Prince immediately! Take His Highness to his room and attend to him now! —Then she turned her gaze toward Varkas and added in a low and deep voice—: The Duke must also receive treatment immediately; as for the unfortunate events of today…

The voice of the woman, who maintained her composure, trembled a little; she swallowed hard to recompose herself and concluded her words slowly:

—I will overlook them in recognition of ancient bonds of friendship.

—That is a great gesture of generosity on your part, truly —replied Daren sarcastically—. But do not expect the Shierkan family to show the same leniency toward the offensive statements of the crown prince.

Ayla looked at him for an instant with eyes carrying a spark of anger, and then left the office taking Garis with her.

Daren, who had been watching them cautiously, bowed to Varkas.

—Are you alright?

Varkas, who was looking at his hand with empty eyes, raised his head slowly. The eyes looking at him with a mixture of concern and pity watched him carefully. He did not understand why they were finishing him off with those looks; was there perhaps any reason for him not to be alright?

He brushed away the hand holding him abruptly and stood up with his swaying body; as he tried to dismiss those present, a mouthful of dark red blood poured from his throat.

—Your Excellency the Duke!

—Call the healer immediately!

Someone caught him quickly as his body collapsed weakly. He looked with lost eyes at the dark red stains that had fallen to the floor.

And superimposed upon them, the image of Talia lying down appeared. Her blood-soaked clothes surrounded her slender body. He looked at her pale, frozen face, as if it were sculpted into his memory, and then extended his hand slowly toward her wax-white cheek.

At that moment, her image shattered into pieces, scattering everywhere like sharp fragments. Thousands of pieces pierced his eyes, skin, bones, and heart like blades. He felt as if he were being torn apart alive.

Unable to bear that dreadful sensation, he finally collapsed, ending up on his knees on the floor.

The vision, which had been blurry in black and white, began to tint with red color gradually; he could no longer distinguish whether that was a fantasy or reality. A torrent of blood that sprouted beneath his feet devoured him; everything began to sink into that bloody river.

And soon he recognized the name of that river: it was despair.

The despair that for so long he had ignored began to flow through his nose, his mouth, and his ears. And in the midst of that suffocating and distant sensation, he finally lost consciousness.

Chapter 239

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