Chapter 99

Chapter 99
Chapter 99

Another twenty-four hours had elapsed following the revelation of Norbeck’s flight.

This was the date Lucian had chosen to surrender Colin’s destiny to the monarch’s will. Early that day, Lucian sought out Glen to reiterate his stance, making certain the issue would not be ignored.

“Sir Glen, I trust you will approach His Majesty as we discussed.”

“…I will. However, delivering an abrupt report in the early hours might stress His Majesty, so I shall wait until the afternoon to speak with him.”

“Very well. Proceed whenever the timing is most appropriate.”

Lucian offered a smile to Glen, who was visibly struggling to maintain his composure.

Provided he received a resolution by nightfall, a delay of a few hours was of little consequence. With no pressing engagements, Lucian prepared to wait out the day for a reply.

Yet, even as the sun dipped below the horizon and the night sky filled with stars, Glen failed to appear at the office.

Had some complication arisen?

At this point, Lucian’s irritation began to give way to genuine concern.

Glen was a man who adhered to the warrior’s code with absolute precision. Barring a major catastrophe, he would never have left Lucian in suspense like this.

Just as Lucian resolved to abandon formalities and investigate the matter himself—

“Sir Glen, wait—!”

Thump!

“Your—Your Highness.”

Contrary to Lucian’s fears, Glen charged through the entrance without a scratch. However, his complexion was so drained of color that he appeared to be on the verge of fainting.

Lucian regarded him with a doubtful expression; it was obvious to any observer that something was terribly wrong.

“What has happened? Our scheduled meeting was hours ago…”

“His Majesty requests Your Highness’s presence.”

“What?”

“In my private quarters—no, I shall set it up here in this office.”

Glen seemed to barely register Lucian’s words, moving instantly toward a corner of the room. He began arranging a sound-dampening magical artifact, repeating his previous actions. He was so preoccupied that he failed to notice the office door remained ajar, a lapse in judgment quite unlike the typical Glen, who went to great lengths to hide such mystical objects.

“Your Highness, if you give the command, I will restrain that disrespectful man at once,” Felicia murmured.

“It is alright. Let him be.”

Lucian dismissed Felicia’s icy suggestion with a shake of his head. He had a vague suspicion regarding the cause of Glen’s distress. Instead, Lucian stepped over to shut the door and signaled Felicia to keep watch.

The coming dialogue was clearly intended for no other ears.

“Your Highness, are you prepared? Time is of the essence.”

“I have been waiting. You may proceed.”

“Then I am establishing the connection now.”

Establish what?

Before Lucian could seek clarification, Glen produced a crimson gemstone from his attire. As the red jewel tumbled in his palm, a burst of light erupted, and a shimmering, semi-transparent image formed in the air.

“…Your Majesty?!”

—Ah, indeed. You have arrived. I am relieved.

Lucian remained paralyzed the moment he glimpsed the Emperor’s features. His shock wasn’t due to the clarity of the magical projection, but rather the Emperor’s ghostly, grey skin and the crimson stains marking his mouth. The ruler was reclined, his hands folded over his midsection as if delivering a message from his deathbed.

—My apologies, but we have no time for leisure. Let us bypass the usual pleasantries and speak plainly.

“Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this…”

—Sigmund is no longer among the living.

Lucian stood frozen, wondering if his senses were deceiving him.

Who had perished? Sigmund? He couldn’t possibly be referring to Sigmund Valdek.

“My father?”

—Yes, your sire. My companion. That man, whose loyalty surpassed all others, met his end this morning.

The Emperor spoke with desperate haste, as if his very life force were fading. However, regardless of one’s resolve, feelings are not easily suppressed. At the mention of the Grand Duke’s passing, the Emperor’s lip quivered and his frame shook violently.

—Gah! *Cough, cough!* Curse it all!

“Your—Your Majesty! I beg you, stay calm! Prioritize your well-being!”

—I am forbidden from even expressing my grief or my fury! This physical vessel is… *Cough!*

“Your Majesty!”

Glen cried out as a spray of blood erupted from the Emperor’s lips. This gruesome display finally broke Lucian’s state of shock.

Father is gone.

The premier aristocrat of the realm, a person Lucian had once admired above all. In many ways, being born of his bloodline had been Lucian’s most significant advantage. And now, that father was dead.

“What was the nature of his passing?”

—He took a mortal blow during a surprise strike while putting down the uprising.

It was a standard explanation. Regardless of one’s prowess in combat, it was impossible to foresee every possible threat. It was a common tragedy for lives to be extinguished by a split second of distraction or a stroke of bad luck.

But that was precisely why the story felt hollow.

If Grand Duke Sigmund perished now, the Emperor would suffer the greatest loss. Given that the Imperial house’s vulnerabilities were already exposed, had they truly failed to provide him with even a single protective charm to safeguard his life?

“Your Majesty. I ask your pardon, but may I know the details of how my father died?”

“This is not the moment for—!”

—That is enough.

The Emperor cut off Glen’s frantic protest. Even in his weakened state and across the vast gap between them, that lone command held absolute authority.

—Every child possesses the right to learn the circumstances of their father’s end. This is a final mark of respect for my dear friend, so do not obstruct us.

“But…”

—I feel a slight reprieve after purging that blood. I should be able to persist for the remainder of the day. This shall be brief.

Glen lowered his gaze at the Emperor’s soft but unwavering tone. The Emperor’s expression appeared marginally more relaxed as he turned his attention back to Lucian.

—I did not witness the event firsthand. I am merely recounting the testimony of the soldier who was at Sigmund’s side…

*Boom! Crash!*

“The defenses are breached!”

“The traitors!”

“Slay them all!”

The infantry erupted in triumph as they observed the fortifications disintegrating under the barrage of the siege engines. This was Krepelt, the territory that had plagued the Imperial forces with various treacherous tactics since violating the Grand Accord. From toxins and covert killings to deceptive surrenders and the execution of captives—for the troops fueled by hatred, the long-awaited moment for retribution had arrived.

“It is finished,” Grand Duke Sigmund observed somberly as the shouts of the soldiers reached his ears.

Tristan, positioned next to the Grand Duke, turned to his father with a look of confusion.

“You do not seem particularly satisfied.”

“And you, by contrast, seem quite pleased.”

“Is that not expected? It is time to hold these rebels, who have discarded the basic rules of civilization, accountable.”

“Those who still hold to those rules will also be forced to pay. Do you imagine their hatred will be aimed solely at the combatants and their ruler?”

Tristan fell into a quiet reflection at Sigmund’s sharp remark. The Grand Duke did not seem to require a reply; he let out a heavy breath and went on.

“The bitterness has grown too profound to be quenched by simply wiping out the opposing army and executing their monarch. The troops will thirst for further slaughter, and the high-born will do the same.”

“…They surely anticipated this the moment they turned their backs on the Grand Accord.”

“The King and his court might have. But I suspect the commoners did not share that same grim determination.”

“Grand Duke.”

Another figure entered the discussion. It was Ludwig, the second-in-command of the Red Wing Knights.

“Your perspective is honorable, and your pity for the guiltless is truly kind. However, at this moment…”

“I am aware. This is a fury that cannot be quelled now. To act the part of the philosopher will only dampen the fighting spirit.”

“I spoke out of turn. I ask for your forgiveness.”

“No, your counsel was timely.”

With the walls destroyed, the adversary must have recognized their inevitable downfall. They would no longer be fighting for victory, but to ensure they took a foe with them into the grave. There was nothing more dangerous than a man who had accepted his death, yet here he was, voicing thoughts that sapped the army’s resolve.

“I shall reserve my reflections for another time. Sir Ludwig, is the Dragon’s Tooth prepared?”

“It is ready to be deployed at your command.”

“Then we shall advance. It is time to claim Erich’s life.”

“Yes, sir!”

*Crash! Rumble!*

Yet another projectile from a siege engine slammed into the masonry. The entire left flank of the wall, already compromised, began to collapse in a domino effect. Just as the enemy’s final defenders were sinking into hopelessness at the sight, the Imperial legion, spearheaded by Grand Duke Sigmund, flooded the gap.

“The—the Lion Banner!”

“It is Valdek! Sigmund Valdek has arrived!”

The insurgents, who had endured countless losses at Sigmund’s hands, were thrown into disarray by the mere presence of the lion emblem. While the foe was reeling, Sigmund and the Red Wing Knights carved a path toward the center of the royal residence.

*Slash!*

“Where is the usurper Erich?! Step forward and meet your end!”

“I am standing right here, you lapdog of the empire!”

Sigmund, who had been clearing the path through the palace guards, turned his gaze. Just as he had anticipated, Erich, the King of Krepelt, was staring them down. Sigmund flicked the crimson stains from his blade and addressed Erich.

“The struggle is over. Abandon this futile defiance. Too many have perished already; let us conclude this with your life alone.”

“And do you truly believe you can achieve that?”

“What are you implying?”

“I am asking if you possess the power to end this with only my blood as payment.”

Sigmund remained silent at the inquiry, which carried a weight of sincerity rather than mockery. Had this been prior to the violation of the Grand Accord, perhaps it could have been so, but the conflict had spiraled too far for it to conclude with Erich’s death alone.

“Ha, at least you are no deceiver. Is that the famed integrity of the Lion?” Erich remarked, his expression contorting.

It appeared less like a taunt and more like a man struggling to contain his sorrow. Erich drew a deep breath and lifted his blade.

“I have sent the women and the young to the western regions.”

“…”

“I beg of you, do not harm them.”

“…I will do what I can.”

“So you cannot promise it? *Kh-kh-kh!*”

Once more, a sound that shifted between a sob and a bitter laugh came from Erich. After a moment of ragged breathing, Erich took a final breath and walked forward by himself.

*Schwing.*

“Let us settle this.”

Erich leveled his sword at Sigmund. It was the traditional gesture for a duel, yet Erich’s talent with a blade was hardly that of a novice. Challenging Sigmund, a legendary master of the sword, was effectively choosing his own slayer.

“As you wish.”

Sigmund, acknowledging the intent, raised his own weapon and stepped into the fray. The two opponents took their positions a few strides apart. The result was a foregone conclusion, so he sought to finish it with a single, merciful strike.

The moment their blades moved in unison—

*Slash!*

“…?!”

Every witness stood in paralyzed shock.

Erich’s blade was biting into Sigmund’s throat. Conversely, Sigmund had been unable to complete his swing. Dark, twisting limbs, lunging from the shadows, had completely restrained his body.

*Clang.*

“What… is this…?”

Erich stumbled back in terror at the result of his own strike. Simultaneously, the dark limbs that had ensnared Sigmund retreated back into the darkness. Once released, the inscriptions on Sigmund’s plate mail, which had been silent, flared with light once more.

“Father?”

*Zap!*

Tristan looked on with a blank stare and reached out toward Sigmund. Despite the soft contact, the armor’s enchantments struck Tristan back to defend its wearer. It was difficult to fathom that this same armor had offered no protection against the shadow limbs.

“…You treacherous dogs.”

“No! This was not my doing!”

“We were fools to place any faith in you. What did we expect from those who threw away their souls?”

“I am telling you, it wasn’t me! You must listen!”

No matter how loudly Erich pleaded, his cries were ignored. The only force driving them now was an unquenchable, overwhelming desire for blood. Tristan rose to his feet, staring at Erich with eyes filled with a murderous rage.

“Not a single betrayer shall depart this city alive. Die, and let your final breath be one of regret.”