---

In the kingdom of Eramenia, hundreds of soldiers were kneeling in full armor in front of the Royal Palace. To an outsider, they might have looked like fairies being punished for some wrongdoing, but in reality, they were all veterans who had voluntarily gathered.

According to Eramenia’s law, there was no punishment for a general or soldier returning from defeat. If one had violated military law in losing, they could face penalties, but questioning the loss itself was off the table. This time, Margaret had not violated any laws during her defeat. This was a fact firmly recognized by the Grand Council of Eramenia.

The reason these soldiers had gathered was to plead with Margaret. They wanted her to come out and lead them. Eramenia had come to a halt. Without Margaret’s participation, no matters could be discussed in the council.

No one stepped forward to call for an end to the war, nor was there any movement to draft additional troops. Even in the following sessions, only proposals regarding recovery from the dragon attacks were addressed, while discussions of military operations were intentionally ignored.

Margaret, at just four hundred years old, possessed something that even far older fairies could not replace. It was nearly impossible to handle military issues without her, especially in the ongoing war against the Demon King.

It was easy for someone to shout to march again. But the next question was how to tackle it?

“So, who will lead the army this time?”

Margaret was the greatest warrior and commander of the Fairy Kingdom. Even she had returned defeated, so it was almost equivalent to claiming that someone else could lead the army better than her. This was politically burdensome as well as personally troubling.

The elves had indeed begun to fear the Demon King’s army.

Rumors about the Demon King’s capabilities, having fully deceived even Margaret with brilliant tactics, spread widely. It was already established that Violet Moriarty was an unprecedentedly strong Demon King in the continent’s history, and a serious reevaluation had to take place regarding whether there existed generals in Eramenia capable of defeating such a Demon King.

If even Margaret could not accomplish it, then who could? The answer for the elves eager to fight was singular: Margaret had to step forward. The Elven Princess, who had already been locked away in her room for two weeks, had to emerge like a savior and lead the army once again.

“Please, come out, Princess!”

Among the gathered elven soldiers, a commander with a red helmet raised his head and shouted, looking up at the palace.

“Margaret of Eramenia, ruler of the Small Kingdom, Dragon Slayer, Grand Marshal, savior of the forest—there are so many titles we could bestow upon you. But we did not gather here to see titles. Please show yourself. Lead us and lift the sinking ship!”

The castle remained silent. The commander continued to express his pleas toward Margaret, uncertain if she could even hear him.

“No one else blames you, Princess. Losing is not a sin. Regardless of how outstanding a person is, they cannot control the outcome of victory or defeat. However, if you give up because you lost, that is when it becomes a sin. Please, Princess, do not commit such a sin. Help us so our nation does not incur a great sin, Your Highness!”

Margaret was listening to all of this. In the dark room, leaning against the window, she sat huddled on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees as she quietly held her breath, listening to the pleas directed at her.

The Elven Princess’s expression was devoid of any vitality. Just moments before the departure, her face had seemed to radiate light, but now it was clouded by a deep and heavy aura of darkness.

Her gaze was hollow, suggesting she hadn’t slept properly. Though she remained squatted and motionless, it appeared less as a deliberate stance and more as if she lacked the strength to move at all.

Just then, the Grand Mage who had been in the room placed a bowl of milk porridge on a nearby table and said, “So, what will you do, Margaret?”

Upon hearing Jeongjae’s voice, Margaret subtly turned her head to look at him. Frustration possibly dulled her hearing, for the elf, who typically could discern the footsteps of a mage from hundreds of meters away, seemed to have missed his entrance entirely.

“Oh, you’re here. Is it mealtime? Sorry for the trouble. I’d appreciate it if you could leave it.”

“What will you do, Margaret?”

“Is giving up truly a sin?”

Margaret spoke, devoid of passion or will. She gently closed her eyes.

“I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think I can stand up again.”

“Margaret.”

“I’m still sore. The slap you gave me still stings and hurts.”

Jeongjae’s face turned to one of shock at her words.

“I… I’m sorry for hitting you. But I don’t think I hit you hard enough to hurt this much—”

“Even after you hit me, I couldn’t think straight. I’m still trapped in that state. That’s why it hurts. If I had regained my senses after being hit, I wouldn’t feel this way now. If I had gotten even a little better… I wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“You know what the better path is.”

“I don’t think I can win again!”

Margaret shrieked, tears streaming from her eyes. Unable to bear her current situation, she buried her hands in her hair and began to tousle it wildly.

The elf’s hair was so soft that it didn’t even tangle properly, but Jeongjae was taken aback seeing her in such a disheveled state, a sight he had never encountered even when looking at the ‘Manhattan’ scroll.

“They treat me like a divine representative. They view me as a harbinger of victory. But really, what am I? A mere child blessed with a good lineage and innate talent, who has never known defeat. I always saw the road to victory. It felt like ways to win came to me effortlessly. This time, in that last canyon, I saw nothing of the sort. That was the first time in my life.”

“The first loss can be shocking.”

“Don’t you get it? It’s not just that. Rather, it would have been better if I had lost a bit earlier. No, actually, I wish I had learned something from losing to the Demon King a hundred years ago. I made just a single mistake; I lost just once—why did so many of my brothers have to die? Why did those who believed in my undefeated reputation, over ten thousand of them, get slaughtered? Why did it have to be this way? Why is the cost of my mistake so enormous?”

The tremor in Margaret’s voice left Jeongjae speechless.

“I can’t bear it. I can’t handle that a single mistake could lead to this. Why doesn’t the council try to judge me? Why do they not shoot arrows or throw stones at me, but instead cry out for me to take command again? When I saw the assembled soldiers today, I listened for the blame directed at me by holding my ear to the window. Yet, they are instead comforting me and pleading with me. Why? Why?”

“Our nation loves you…”

“And I love our nation. All the four thousand elves I’ve led to death are those I love. If the fallen could speak, would those four thousand brothers not say they still love me?”

“They would, surely.”

“Perhaps. That fact only torments me further.”

Margaret paused for a moment, brushing her unruly hair back into place. Jeongjae waited for her to continue speaking.

“What am I, Park Jeongjae? What am I, who has proven her incompetence yet receives support from her subordinates? I have failed despite managing everything in my own way, and why are the usual rivals who would tear me apart silent at this moment? What do they think of me? Do they imagine that I can bear all this and move forward based on something they themselves don’t understand? After spending four hundred years in this nation, what do they know of me to believe in me like this? It feels as if there is another Margaret out there in the world.”

“There is only one Princess Margaret of Eramenia in this world.”

Jeongjae lifted the bowl of milk porridge and slowly approached Margaret. Margaret looked at the approaching Grand Mage with a puzzled expression.

“Didn’t you say you’d be grateful if I left it? You’re not just going to skip a meal. You need to survive.”

“I saw you drop a bowl last time. Yet, you didn’t ask for me to bring it again.”

“One meal is fine. I didn’t want to trouble you unnecessarily.”

“Given the mood you’re in, it looks like it could spill again.”

Hearing Jeongjae’s words, Margaret glanced down at her hands. The Fairy Lord slightly nodded in agreement with his statement.

“That might be true. So, what now?”

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth. You’re getting porridge everywhere.”

Jeongjae took a spoonful of porridge and brought it towards Margaret’s face. Since it had been around four hundred years since someone had fed her, she initially seemed not to grasp what Jeongjae was attempting to do.

Seeing the porridge drip from the spoon, Jeongjae frowned in annoyance.

“You’re spilling it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Haha…”

Under normal circumstances, Margaret would have burst into hearty laughter at the absurdity, but now what left her lips was nothing but a hollow chuckle. Nonetheless, this provided Jeongjae a brief opening to feed her with the spoon. With little resistance, Margaret accepted the porridge, swallowed it, and said,

“At least the livestock industry is intact. If the farms had burned down, it wouldn’t be easy to come by dairy products. Finding something simple to eat like milk porridge means there’s still a bit of a foundation left.”

“You really do understand, you’re a heavenly ruler and a leader. It’s not just about being born into a good lineage. You even think of such things while looking at a bowl of porridge.”

“You may be right.”

“On that day, in the canyon. The Demon King aimed to kill you without fail. To the point of chasing you relentlessly, even bringing out her not fully matured body to confront you directly. Why do you think that was?”

“It’s only natural to kill the enemy commander in battle.”

“My opinion is different. For someone like you, showing signs of defeat and surviving would be far more damaging to Eramenia’s morale. If you had died, at least the current atmosphere would be different, wouldn’t it? There would be countless elves rising in revolt for revenge, instead of this deadened mood.”

Margaret received another spoonful of porridge from Jeongjae, swallowed it, and shook her head.

“Are you trying to say I should have died?”

“Absolutely not. Rather, what’s important is why the Demon King aimed to kill you. You understand, she’s quite clever. Such a clever being would not seek to kill you if she believed that showing signs of defeat would sufficiently suppress Eramenia. It means only one thing: she fears an Eramenia without you. Yet, she also believes that even if you are momentarily defeated and collapse, you will certainly rise again, and she deeply fears that such a thing will happen.”

“Park Jeongjae…”

“She fears you more than you fear her. Show her who you are.”

Jeongjae took another big spoonful and fed the last mouthful of porridge to the Fairy Lord. Margaret gazed blankly at Jeongjae as he stood up, holding the empty bowl.

“Even if it’s not now, someday. I believe it.”

Jeongjae opened the door and left. Margaret remained there, squatting silently as she gazed out of the window. The soldiers were still kneeling, waiting for Margaret to reveal herself.

She couldn’t yet. Not just yet.

 

---