“Come in.”

Lavi groggily opened her eyes, still half-asleep, at the voice making a fuss and calling her name first thing in the morning. What on earth was going on that they were shouting her name at the top of their lungs all the way from the corridor?

Her head throbbed as if it might split.

“Miss!!”

“Mmgh. I can hear you. Don’t shout.”

Barely managing to lift her eyelids, Lavi looked at the maid—only to have a white envelope suddenly thrust out in front of her.

It was a letter envelope. The letter was—

“A reply!”

“Yes! It finally arrived, so I ran straight here!”

“Very well done. Knife!”

Lavi praised the maid who had rushed to her side and held out her hand. Whatever lingering sleepiness had vanished at once. Gripping the letter opener, Lavi quickly slit the envelope open.

“Hm…but it’s kind of thin?”

Based on her calculations from the day she’d read that article explaining why the letters were delayed, Akkad should have received at least ten of her letters at once.

With a creeping sense of dread, she pulled out the letter inside. It was only a single sheet of paper.

Compared to the replies she’d received so far, it was painfully sparse.

Sure, she’d been the one to say in her last letter that he didn’t need to write such long replies anymore—but still!

Even so, Lavi told herself it was better than nothing and leaned back against the headboard with the letter in hand. She unfolded the paper with a fluttering heart, but as she read the contents, her eyebrows twitched.

“That’s it?”

[To Lavi

I’m… fine. Don’t worry.

—Akkad]

Staring at the lone, single sentence sitting there all by itself, Lavi’s eyes darted back and forth.

“Is something actually wrong? And why is this so crumpled?”

Even though it was barely one sentence, there were smudges where the ink had bled in several places. One side of the paper was also badly crumpled.

Did an emergency happen while he was writing the reply? Or had it been crushed during delivery?

Lavi glanced at the table. The envelope itself was pristine, without a single crease. She wondered if it was hard to find clean paper on a battlefield—but every letter she’d received before had been crisp, good-quality stationery. The one in her hand seemed to be the same kind of paper, just crumpled.

“That’s just mean.”

After all the effort she put into pouring her heart out in her letters to Akkad, to get just one sentence back…

He could’ve told her to hang in there, or at least joined her in badmouthing her exes.

His replies were usually two pages at minimum, sometimes three, filled edge to edge. Seeing just a single lonely sentence left her flustered.

‘Did I ramble on too casually to someone on a battlefield about things that were trivial?’

Lavi resolved not to write about such things in the future.

Still, couldn’t he at least share some news about himself?

He could have shown at least enough courtesy to say, “You must have been worried because the letter was late,” or “Nothing happened.” That much consideration wasn’t too much to ask.

Lavi sprang upright and gathered her stationery to write back.

Chewing on the tip of her pen, she hesitated for a moment before finally putting words to paper.

[To Akkad.

Your reply was so short that I started worrying something might be wrong. —AAh, of course, I’m not scolding you to write long letters or anything. 

You’re not hurt or anything though, right? I was wondering if maybe some of the letters that were supposed to arrive got lost.

…(omitted)…

I really hope the war ends soon so you can come back. I miss you so, so much.

P.S. Did you know a newspaper wrote that your hair was red instead of pink? I secretly went to see my brother’s aide and told him to hurry up and do something about the company that published it, but I don’t know how it turned out. I want to touch your hair and take a nap.]

Lavi neatly folded the two pages she’d filled to the brim. Then she picked up a pink envelope, the corners of her mouth curling upward.

Hehe. She’d specially ordered these while waiting for Akkad’s letters.

It wasn’t quite as pretty a pink as Akkad’s hair, but it was satisfactory enough.

She waited for the sealing wax to harden, then tugged the bell cord.

A moment later, Jenny entered at a knock and took the envelope from her.

“Did my brother write Akkad a letter too?”

“No. As far as I know, he hasn’t.”

“I told him he should write one, but he never listens. Anyway, please send this out today.”

Jenny nodded and turned to leave, then paused and turned back around. Lavi looked at her, expression asking if there was something else.

“There actually was another letter sent to Sir Akkad! Sir Allen asked me yesterday to send a letter to him.”

“Allen?”

Had Allen been close enough with Akkad to write him a letter?

Well, since Akkad was her childhood friend, Allen had known him for a long time too, so it wasn’t that strange. Assuming it was just a casual check-in, Lavi didn’t think much of it.

She had no idea—no idea at all—that ten days later, after reading Allen’s letter, Akkad would wear a smile so chilling it sent shivers down the spine.

---

The knights of the Second Unit under Akkad’s command had recently been busy watching their superior’s mood, wary of the murderous aura that now seemed to radiate from him.

When Akkad had first taken the position of vice-commander, complaints had been loud and plentiful—people grumbling that some young brat had been handed an important post just because he was the commander-in-chief’s son.

Given that this was a battlefield where people died every day, the sentiment was understandable.

On top of that, for the first six months of the war, Akkad had struggled to adapt to the reality of having to cut people down. He was visibly shaken, unable to fully come to terms with it. When combat began, he would draw his sword because he had no choice, but there was no desperation in it. It felt reluctant, half-hearted—and the knights who fought alongside him, sharing life and death, couldn’t fail to notice.

“When did the vice-commander change?”

Trying to figure out why their superior had been so irritable lately, the knights traced their memories back.

“It must be because of that incident back then.”

“Hey, lower your voice. What if he hears you?”

“Eh, come on, we’re this far away.”

“I’m telling you, he hears anything related to her like a ghost.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than did a sharp gaze shoot their way.

“It seems you’ve rested enough.”

The five knights broke out in a cold sweat at the sight of pink hair, hurriedly finishing their meals and scrambling to their feet.

Watching the retreating backs of his unit members, Akkad found himself recalling the day one of them had just mentioned.

---

“The 4th unit is being pushed back! There’s a village right behind them!”

“Divide the troops in half. I’ll go myself.”

Gripping the reins, Akkad turned his horse.

In a situation where they were barely holding the border line, the unit closest to Akkad’s position had been driven back. If they failed to retake that position, the enemy would branch out from there in an instant, making it a critical location.

As they drew closer to the village, a gruesome scene came into view.

Akkad’s grip on the reins tightened.

Cutting down enemies who charged at him first was something he did out of sheer necessity—to survive. But he couldn’t just stand by and watch his comrades die either, which meant he had to raise his sword again.

No matter how much time passed, the sensation lingering at his fingertips wouldn’t fade. It was unbearable.

Some fought for the Empire. Some for their families, for those they held dear. Some for money. Everyone had their own reason for wielding a sword.

But not him.

It might have been a thought unbecoming of a knight and heir to a ducal house, but he felt neither loyalty to nor affection for the Empire.

“We’ll arrive soon.”

The words of the knight riding beside him snapped Akkad out of his thoughts.

As they emerged into the open open, sunlight poured over the ornament hanging from the sword at his waist.

Thinking of Lavi, Akkad let a faint smile touch his lips—only to pull his horse to a halt at the sight before him.

“That bastard!” The knight beside him swore, looking in the same direction.

One of the imperial citizens who hadn’t managed to evacuate was being dragged by the hair by an enemy soldier.

At the sight of golden hair gripped in that man’s fist, Akkad’s eyes filled with intense murderous intent.

It lasted only an instant, but the killing aura pouring off Akkad made the knights following behind him rein in their horses.

As one knight was about to charge forward, Akkad reached out a hand to stop him.

“A bow.”

“Yes…?”

The knight who had been holding a bow stepped forward, confused, staring at the hand extended toward him.

Except for cases where Akkad was the only one who could save someone, he usually let the other knights take action themselves. It made no sense on a battlefield, but that was how it had always been. Akkad had never asked for it, never ordered it—but it had become an unspoken rule. Even now, it would have made more sense for the knight already holding the bow to attack.

Akkad lifted his hand, brushing his hair back as a slow smile curved his lips. He moved his horse closer, seized the bow himself, and drew the string without hesitation.

The arrow pierced straight through the forehead of the enemy soldier clutching the woman’s hair.

“If even one of them escapes alive, I’ll kill him with my own hands.”

With that final warning, Akkad drew his sword and began cutting down the enemy forces.

Startled by the unexpected turn of events, the knights behind him were momentarily stunned into silence at the scene unfolding before their eyes.

---

After the meal, the unit members who’d moved elsewhere to avoid Akkad found themselves reminiscing about that day as well.

It was a famous anecdote because it was the day the Vice-Commander, who never cut down an enemy unless they attacked first, began swinging his sword like a bloodthirsty demon.

“That was terrifying. Honestly, he just looked unhinged.”

“He was so drenched in blood that his pink hair looked red.”

“At the end, he probably would’ve cut us down too. I remember throwing my weapon away and surrendering.”

Everyone nodded.

“If Dame Salome hadn’t stepped in to stop him, we might’ve died along with them.”

Those who hadn’t been there accused them of exaggerating, but it was the truth.

“One thing is for certain–the vice-commander’s ‘special person’ is blonde.”

There wasn’t a single soldier in the unit who didn’t know about the ornament on the vice commander’s sword.

Everyone agreed it was a reasonable guess.

“So, why is he acting like that again these days?”

All eyes turned to Levin, the one who spoke with Akkad the most.

Levin kept his mouth shut, pretending not to know anything.

“It’s no joke.”

“I think he’s even scarier now than he was back then.”

“Didn’t he get letters recently? Maybe that’s why.”

Thinking of this, the knights nodded. It was true that he’d received a stack of delayed letters all at once due to delivery issues.

“…Did he get dumped?”

“You idiot! Don’t even say things like that. That’s terrifying.”

One knight, who’d been quietly listening, glanced around before motioning for them to come closer.

“It’s got something to do with a priest.”

“A priest?”

“Yeah. The day the delayed letters arrived, he was saying something about a priest. He hasn’t rested a bit since that day.”

That had been the day he suddenly ambushed the enemy, claiming he would retake a lost territory.

With the remaining military strength of both countries nearly evenly matched, they’d begun repeatedly targeting only the camps where the enemy’s deputy commanders were stationed, turning the tide until they finally seized the advantage and reversed the course of the war.

All of that had been accomplished in just three months.

“I seriously can’t take this anymore. I feel like I’m going to die from overwork before the enemy kills me.”

Overwork on a battlefield was a ridiculous phrase—but no one could refute it.

“So what about the priest? Is that person sick or something?”

“Hey, look. A letter just arrived.”

They watched as a knight carrying what looked like mail entered the vice commander’s tent.

“Please, let nothing happen this time.”

Everyone prayed with one heart and mind—but the unit still had to prepare for battle again at dawn.

---

When Akkad returned to his tent, a pink envelope resting on the table caught his eye.

Akkad reached out when he saw Lavi’s name written on it, but then paused.

The bloodstains on his hands bothered him.

“Please wipe your hands.” Levin, who had been processing documents, saw this and held out a wet towel.

“Is there still a lot of work left?”

“It’s almost finished.”

After cleaning his hands, Akkad picked up the letter again and tore open the envelope.

Seeing the round handwriting and the words “I miss you” written at the end of the letter, the corners of his mouth lifted.

Reading the part where she said she wanted to touch his hair and take a nap made him want to tell her that he felt the same.

Of course, probably in a very different manner from the nap Lavi had in mind.

If he were to catch the hand stroking his hair, kiss it, then bite gently into the soft skin at the inside of her wrist— 

Akkad let out a short breath and shook his head at the endless spiral of thoughts.

“Hmm…”

Then he realized that, unlike the previous letters, there was nothing written about Lavi’s recent daily life.

It was probably because of the reply he’d sent.

What on earth was he supposed to reply to a letter listing which guy she met and what that guy did? The fact that she was meeting men was something he absolutely didn’t want to know at all, yet at the same time, he felt it was something he had to know.

After all, it was necessary to know who needed to be dealt with.

Letting out a sigh, Akkad wondered if he’d have no choice but to write a reply addressing that topic.

“Ah, there’s one more letter.”

Akkad tilted his head as he looked at the sender’s name. He’d never received a letter from Allen before. Had something happened?

Akkad immediately tore open the envelope, read down the letter, then lifted his brow and exhaled a slow breath. 

“Ha.”

Levin, who had been working through documents, flinched and stiffened at the sudden surge of murderous intent.

Ever since the day the backlog of delayed letters had arrived, handling paperwork inside the vice commander’s tent had become the task everyone dreaded most. On days like today, when letters arrived, the fallout embers often sparked onto whoever happened to be nearby. The vice commander already strangely singled him out often, and today he’d ended up here because he’d drawn the short straw.

It seemed today was the day he would get burned.

“Levin.”

“Y-yes sir!”

Seeing that the envelope had been pink, he’d reassured himself that the rumors among the others—that she had run off with someone—were nonsense. But now it seemed the second letter was the real problem.

It wasn’t even from her, so why was he reacting like this?

“Did you say you’d identified the location of the unit the  enemy’s commander-in-chief is with?”

“Yes, sir.”

Allen’s letter was crushed mercilessly in Akkad’s hand.

It seemed he had to wrap up this war in a hurry.

He had already been doing everything he could to that end but there was no more time to waste. 

“Get ready. We move at dawn.”

“…Sir?”

“Assemble by three o’clock.”

---

Translator comments: I absolutely love this part ahahaha. This is exactly the kind of unhinged that I adore. Akkad becoming casually but extremely effectively bonkers because his girl is afflicted with a terminal case of Dense Female Lead syndrome just brings me joy (though I do wish Lavi were a teensy bit less dense)

Otherwise, same note as last part – tired translator is embracing a ‘done is better than perfect’ philosophy because this project has been going on for years and needs to be done! As always, if anyone else wants to pick up this project, it’s yours. You can reach me on NU @ yodireads.

Translator notes:

• 불똥이 튀다 is how Levin describes the situation with Akkad receiving letters – 불똥 = a spark / ember / cinder from a fire, 튀다 = to fly, to splatter, to jump. It’s a common metaphor basically meaning collateral damage.
• As always ‘big sis’ here as used by Lavi with regards to Rose is not literal. She’s using ‘unni’ which is a form of address from one female to an older female. I omitted it, but Akkad calls Werner ‘hyung’ – form of address from a younger male to an older male – in the same way. Notable mostly for how he does NOT call Allen hyung. There’s a formality line drawn between them.

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