Eldrin sighed deeply, his face darkening as he met Paul's eyes.
"Oh... this might get complicated, Prince," he said in a firm tone.
Paul furrowed his brows in confusion.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice reflecting his puzzled expression.
Eldrin gave a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Prince... you know about..." —he paused for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully.
Seeing Paul quietly waiting for him to continue, Eldrin eventually said,
"The war that happened twenty years ago... do you remember it?"
Paul's expression grew serious.
"You mean the war between the Empires? The one that nearly wiped out our kingdom?" he replied with conviction, eyes locked on Eldrin.
A war that claimed countless lives across this continent...
The thought echoed grimly in Paul's mind.
Hearing Paul's words, Eldrin shook his head slowly. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"It's a shame, Prince... but actually, that's not quite right," he said gently.
Paul blinked, visibly confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked, searching Eldrin's eyes.
Eldrin looked him in the eye with quiet firmness.
"To be more accurate, Prince..." -he paused, placing a thoughtful hand under his chin-
"It was more of a game agreement between the two empires," he said, his tone turning serious.
Paul's eyes widened, disbelief washing over his face.
"But... the books say it was a real war..." he muttered, as if trying to convince himself.
Eldrin turned his gaze toward the distant forest and exhaled deeply.
"Then maybe... the flow of information has been manipulated," he said, his voice weary.
He turned back toward Paul, whose face was still stiff with shock, and gave a small, sympathetic smile.
"Let's set that aside for now. If you want the full story, you can ask Her Majesty and the King yourself," Eldrin offered calmly. "For now, let's focus on the problem at hand."
Though still shaken-unable to believe that just twenty years was enough for history itself to be rewritten-Paul took a deep breath and nodded slowly, returning to the matter before them.
After Paul nodded, Eldrin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Now then... where were we?" he murmured, eyes drifting in thought.
Paul opened his mouth to respond, but Eldrin snapped his fingers with sudden clarity.
"Ah, yes-Crimson Talon!" he said with a light chuckle, before his face turned serious again.
He met Paul's gaze firmly.
"Prince, there are still quite a few veterans from the war. Especially among the mercenary guilds..." Eldrin said, his voice calm but steady.
He turned his eyes toward the cityscape.
"But not many of them stayed in our kingdom. The war was too fierce-too bloody. It consumed every region it touched," he continued, placing one hand under his chin, thoughtful again.
"Those who survived... most of them were absorbed into the military structure. They either joined the border legions, became squad leaders, or were assigned as knights under noble houses." Eldrin's tone remained casual, but his words carried weight.
He glanced back at Paul, adding,
"Some were even rewarded-granted the title of knight or minor nobility, and given small lands to govern. Survivors, yes-but shaped into something else."
Hearing that, Paul nodded slowly, his expression tightening.
"So... they're one of them, huh?" he said with a confident, knowing tone.
But Eldrin let out a low chuckle, shaking his head lightly.
"No, Prince... not quite," he replied, his voice tinged with irony.
He turned to Paul, his expression sharpening.
"They're not one of the honorable ones I just mentioned." His tone grew more serious. "In truth... they were the outcasts-the discarded pieces in the so-called 'game of war'."
Eldrin's gaze drifted toward the city, a flicker of bitterness in his eyes.
Paul frowned, visibly confused.
"What do you mean? If they were outcasts... how are they still here, inside the city?" he asked, baffled.
Still smiling faintly, though now with a hint of sadness, Eldrin turned back to Paul.
"Prince... allow me to tell you a secret," he said quietly. His voice grew heavier with each word.
"The war fought on this land... it wasn't a grand clash of empires, as the history books might tell you. It was our kingdom-alone-fighting against the Walles Empire," he said, voice edged with frustration. "And the so-called 'aid' from the Thalmerin Empire? It was a farce."
Eldrin clenched a fist behind his back, holding back his anger.
"In the end, our homeland wasn't defended. It was used. A mere game board between two empires... and we were the pieces."
Upon hearing that, Paul instinctively swallowed hard, a cold chill running down his spine.
He said nothing.
"Damn... this kingdom is so complicated..."
The thought echoed in his head as he pressed a hand to his forehead, massaging it slowly in frustration.
Eldrin, watching him in silence, took a deep breath before continuing.
"So... the ones you see here now," he began solemnly, "they're not warriors of our kingdom. Not patriots. Not protectors."
His voice hardened.
"They're the discarded-the ones deemed useless by the Thalmerin Empire. Thrown away like broken weapons."
Paul looked up, the weight of those words sinking in.
"They came here for profit... hoping to squeeze gold out of our bloodied soil. But-" Eldrin paused, his expression tightening, "-by the time they arrived in this city... the war was already over."
Then, his voice softened. A bitter smile crossed his face, and sadness flickered in his eyes.
"And the worst part, Prince?" Eldrin continued quietly, almost in a whisper. "When the forces of the two empires finally stood face to face-not a single sword was drawn."
He turned his gaze away, fighting back tears.
"They didn't fight. They... negotiated. They laughed. They gambled. And in the end..."
His voice cracked ever so slightly.
"...they played a game to decide who would occupy our kingdom. Our home."
Hearing that, Paul felt a nervous chill in his chest. Yet he still pressed forward, asking in a serious tone,
"So... under whose control is our country now?"
Eldrin looked at Paul with a gentle smile.
"You mean... who won the game between the two empires?" he asked in a relaxed tone.
Paul nodded silently, his eyes focused.
Eldrin chuckled lightly.
"This is the funniest part..." he said, shifting his gaze toward the city.
"That game? It wasn't won by the Walles Empire, nor by the Thalmarin Empire." He turned to Paul, eyes bright with quiet pride.
"It was our kingdom that won."
Paul's eyes widened, stunned.
"How?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Eldrin's smile turned apologetic.
"Forgive me, Prince... that matter is kept strictly between the Queen and King."
Paul's hopeful expression dimmed into disappointment, but Eldrin, noticing his mood, softened his tone.
"But... you can ask the Queen and King directly. They are the only ones who know the whole story."
Paul nodded slowly, then looked up again and asked,
"So about the Crimson Talon guild..." His tone was hesitant, uncertain.
At the mention of the name, Eldrin immediately smacked his forehead.
"Ah, heavens... I forgot about that part." He looked sheepish, clearly guilty.
Seeing Paul pouting slightly, Eldrin raised both hands and sighed.
"Alright, alright..." His expression hardened into seriousness.
"Because the Thalmarin Empire didn't engage in actual war, most of the mercenaries who came here expecting battle felt betrayed. They demanded compensation from the commanding officers at the time."
Paul's brows furrowed.
"And?"
Eldrin continued,
"The commander from Thalmarin ignored them. Not only that-he issued a public statement saying, 'To all useless mercenaries who came yesterday to complain: you are now blacklisted from re-entering the Thalmarin Empire.'"
Eldrin's tone was firm, imitating the cruel finality of the announcement.
Paul felt a bitter twist in his stomach.
"Most of the mercenaries were stunned. Their faces went pale. They had nowhere to go."
Still holding Paul's gaze, Eldrin went on.
"But the worst part came in a follow-up decree: 'To all Thalmarin fighters who once served bravely, I offer clemency. But the mercenaries... you are to remain in the Hanburg Kingdom for 30 years, to atone for your failures.'"
Paul's mouth opened slightly in disbelief.
"So they..." he muttered, his eyes drifting toward the distant rooftops of the city.
Eldrin followed his gaze.
"Yes... they're outcasts, Prince. Nothing more."
His voice was low, bitter.