Chapter 102

Yuwon went straight to the library where Bernid and Terrien were, explained the plan to reclaim the Ravens that would take place that very evening, and had the two of them prepare.

“…And so, I’ve decided to take the lead myself. You two will be coming with me, so be ready.”

“Of course. Gotta earn my keep somehow. I’ll get prepared.”

“I’ll have my preparations finished right away as well.”

Their firm replies followed, and once Yuwon had finished his business, he immediately returned to the Fifth Prince’s Palace.

But then—he felt a powerful presence from afar. Yuwon’s eyes gleamed at the sensation.

‘This presence…! The Emperor!’

An overwhelming aura, as if looking down on all beneath him.

It was not something that could be attained through mere cultivation. It was the kind of majesty only those of noble blood and decades of absolute reign could exude.

‘So this is the aura of an absolute ruler… As expected of the Emperor.’

It was the Emperor Yulaios of the Great Aphahiel Empire, deliberately radiating his might.

Even Yuwon, who thought he had grown accustomed to the Emperor’s presence, was once again taken aback.

‘So it’s come at last.’

He immediately realized the reason for this display of power.

The Emperor was summoning him—and if the Emperor sought him, there was only one reason.

Yuwon neither avoided nor hastened before that tremendous aura.

He simply continued forward at his natural pace, step by step.

‘At the end of this path… stands the Emperor.’

Realizing what awaited him ahead, Yuwon’s gaze grew solemn.

‘And at the end of this path… lies the throne.’

His steps grew heavier with the thought, yet he did not stop.

His stride continued, leading him toward the Emperor who called him forth.

And finally—

“I have been waiting, Yurion, my son.”

The path that connected the Fifth Prince’s Palace and the Library—

in that quiet trail, Yuwon came face to face with the Emperor.

“Follow me. There’s somewhere we must go.”

At those words, Yuwon followed the Emperor without even asking where they were headed.

It had been some time since they last met, and their conversation soon began to flow.

“Come to think of it, you gave quite a lesson to all your brothers, didn’t you?”

“…I hardly find myself surprised anymore. How did you even know that?”

Yuwon simply smiled faintly, giving a vague answer.

“If I can’t manage even that much, how could I ever aspire to the throne?”

“Haha, indeed. You’re right.”

The Emperor chuckled softly, but Yuwon was not smiling. His voice turned sharp with his next question.

“Why did you let them live? Their crimes were all worthy of death.”

The Emperor paused for a brief moment before replying.

“You already know my answer, and yet you ask. It is paternal affection.

Only one may sit upon the throne, but all of them are still my children. What else could I do?”

“…If it were me, I’d have killed them all.”

“And indeed, you would have. At your age, I thought the same. In fact, I once did the same. But when you have children of your own someday, you’ll understand this father’s heart. I’ve already taken measures so that none of them can hinder your path again. So, just this once—turn a blind eye.”

Yuwon reluctantly accepted the Emperor’s decision.

“…Understood. But this will be the last time. If my brothers cross the line again, I’ll deal with them myself.”

“…Very well. If they do so again, that would be only fair.”

Having entrusted the matter of his brothers to the Emperor for now, Yuwon changed the subject.

“Are we heading to the ‘Grave of Swords’?”

The Emperor merely nodded in response.

The Grave of Swords—

a place where every direct descendant and branch member of the royal bloodline went to perform their coming-of-age ceremony.

It was also where Yuwon had obtained the White Dragon Sword.

“Do you know why we’re going there?”

“Outside of the coming-of-age ceremony, nothing much is known. But if I were to guess… it must have to do with the Lion Sword.”

The Lion Sword—

otherwise known as the White Lion Sword.

The very sword at the Emperor’s waist, the symbol of imperial authority.

“Correct. Soon, you will become the master of this Lion Sword. This is no false coronation, meant for show before others. You and I will hold the true enthronement—before the eyes of all heroes who once protected Aphahiel.”

“…I see. So that’s how it will be. Understood. Let us go.”

For several minutes, the two walked in silence.

Though both men could easily cross great distances in an instant, neither chose to hasten their pace.

Step by step—

with each stride they took, the history of Aphahiel, its past and future, seemed to overlap.

At last, they arrived before the Memorial Hall.

Deep within lay the Grave of Swords, awaiting them.

“Are you ready?” the Emperor asked.

“Yes, I am,” Yuwon replied.

“Good. Then let us go.”

The Emperor took the first step forward, and Yuwon followed closely behind.

He had once entered this place as a wastrel prince and emerged as the Master of the White Dragon.

Now, he returned once more—to become Emperor.

The Memorial Hall, where the history of the Empire still breathed—

a place so revered that many dreamed of seeing it just once in their lifetime.

But neither the Emperor nor Yuwon were awed by it now.

They simply walked quietly toward its heart—the Grave of Swords.

Step, step—

Their footsteps overlapped faintly, echoing like a soft resonance.

Soon, they arrived at the entrance and made their way inside.

If the Memorial Hall showed the living history of the Empire, then the Grave of Swords was where that history slept.

It was too sacred for any to trespass,

and because of that, it had grown wild and untended, resembling a true graveyard.

That desolate place greeted the two men.

“…This place remains unchanged, as ever.”

The Emperor seemed lost in brief nostalgia, recalling his own coming-of-age and coronation.

But it did not last long.

“To return here, alive, with the son who will succeed me as Emperor—

that was my lifelong wish. I’m glad to have fulfilled it.”

It was unclear whether he spoke to himself or to Yuwon.

Just as Yuwon wondered if he should respond, the Emperor hastened his steps.

“Come. We’re nearly there.”

“Yes. The brush has grown thick, I’ll take the lead.”

Summer had just ended, and early autumn was beginning to show.

The dense undergrowth from the past season blocked the path, so Yuwon offered to clear the way—but the Emperor refused.

“No need. This old father may be aged, but I’ve not grown so frail that I can’t handle a few bushes. I’ll clear the way. Follow behind me.”

“Yes, as you wish.”

Whether he was stepping forward as Emperor or as father no longer mattered.

The Emperor drew the sword hanging beside the Lion Sword a blade entirely black once unsheathed.

It caught Yuwon’s gaze.

‘…I’ve never seen that sword before.’

For a moment, he wondered if it was Rohan’s Nameless Sword, but upon closer look, it was not.

It was the Emperor’s own Guardian Sword, drawn during his coming-of-age ceremony.

‘So the outcast of the White Lion House, the Black Lion Yulaios Aphahiel…

It wasn’t just his hair that was black.’

The Emperor swung his Guardian Sword, cutting through the brush to open their path.

Yuwon quietly followed, taking in the sight of the Grave of Swords once more.

The open sky, without a ceiling above—

and the wildly overgrown weeds that seemed to challenge even that sky.

Soon, through the cut brush, a massive stone slab appeared.

Unlike the ground before it, not a single blade of grass grew upon that slab.

And on its surface stood dozens of swords, embedded in solemn silence.

It was there, in the resting place of Aphahiel’s heroes and their Guardian Swords, that the Emperor and Yuwon arrived.

“…We’re here. Come to think of it, this must be your first time seeing this place in daylight, isn’t it?”

At the Emperor’s question, Yuwon could only let out a soft exclamation.

“Ah…”

That was all he could say.

The sight before him was overwhelming.

When he had come for his coming-of-age, it had been night but now, the sunlight replaced the moonlight.

Sunbeams struck the blades, reflected upon the next, and split again upon the next sword’s edge.

The sunlight, refracted and scattered by dozens of swords, shattered into hundreds of glimmers, forming a radiant halo of light.

It was breathtakingly beautiful—an awe-inspiring spectacle that silenced Yuwon.

‘Indeed… what other place could be worthy of an Emperor’s coronation?’

The heroes of Aphahiel—and the Guardian Swords they left behind—

shone brilliantly, as if blessing the birth of the next Emperor.

At that same time, a guest arrived at Yuwon’s Fifth Prince’s Palace.

Bernid, Terrien, Hastings, and Gillian were all waiting for Yuwon’s return, preparing for the evening’s operation to reclaim the Ravens.

But it was they who first met the visitor—and that visitor was none other than Marcellus.

“…!”

“Marcellus, you bastard! Do you have any idea where you’ve come, to dare step here of your own accord?!”

At Marcellus’s appearance, the four immediately entered a defensive stance.

Hastings was the first to draw his sword, followed quickly by Gillian and Terrien, who moved into attack positions.

Bernid took position behind them, gathering mana in preparation for a possible strike.

It was a situation that could erupt into violence at any moment.

Yet, the man they aimed their weapons at—Marcellus—appeared utterly relaxed, as though he were out for a stroll.

“I came to see His Highness, Prince Yurion.”

Terrien, the calmest among them, stepped forward to respond.

“…His Highness isn’t here right now.”

“Oh? Not here? I’d heard he rarely leaves the Fifth Prince’s Palace these days…

Something must have come up, then?”

“….”

Terrien already knew through the Ravens’ eyes that Yuwon was with the Emperor,

but he saw no reason to share that information.

However, the sharp-minded Marcellus didn’t miss his silence.

“Don’t tell me… he’s with the Emperor right now?”

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