Chapter 109

Yuwon’s comrades took advantage of Marquis Bradman and the Ravens’ valiant efforts to escape safely from the Grave of Swordss. However, escaping the tomb didn’t mean their ordeal was over.

What awaited those who barely escaped one of the fiercest battlefields was yet another battlefield.

A crimson light—not the color of sunset, but of something far bloodier—engulfed the Imperial Palace. Red blood and raging fire demons dyed the palace scarlet, stripping it of its original hue. Upon witnessing the scene, Bernid cursed under his breath.

“Damn it… One mountain after another. This is hell itself.”

“…”

Neither Terrien, who carried Yuwon on his back, nor Hastings, who stood beside him, could respond. They both swallowed hard. Bernid wasn’t wrong.

Behind the crimson hue hung the stench of burning flesh—one they all knew too well, though none dared imagine whose it might be.

Their faces darkened simultaneously.

Not far away, at the source of that smell, a scene straight out of hell was unfolding.

Clang—! Clang, clang!

“Urgh—!”

“Arghhh!”

Blood splattered and limbs flew through the air. Two divided forces pointed their spears and blades at each other.

“Hold the line! Marquis Bradman’s order is to repel the rebels at all costs! His Majesty’s Greatest Sword will soon return with His Majesty! Until then, we must slay as many of them as we can!”

“Exterminate every last traitor!”

The opposing side was no less fierce.

“Don’t push recklessly! Hold the line and buy time! Most of the central nobles have already joined our cause!”

“They’re rats trapped in a cage! No need to rush—our reinforcements will be here soon!”

Those trying to defend and those trying to break through—war had already erupted. As if both sides already knew what had transpired inside the Grave of Swordss, battle raged on before them. And that was the very path Yuwon and his comrades now had to cross.

The deafening clash of blades filled the air, and bursts of magic thundered through the battlefield like rolling storms, numbing the ears of those who fought.

Bernid, enhancing his sight with aura, scanned the distance and shook his head.

“At this rate… there won’t be a single safe place left in the palace. The Fifth Prince’s Palace and the Third Prince’s Palace must already be in ruins.”

“…And if the inside looks like this, then the way out will be even worse,” Hastings added grimly.

At Bernid’s words, Terrien and Hastings turned their gaze toward where the Fifth and Third Princes’ Palaces should have stood. They prayed it wasn’t true—but black smoke was already billowing from both directions.

Watching silently, Hastings tore a strip from Yuwon’s garment and tied it around his mouth.

“…What was that for?”

“We can hold our breath when needed, but if His Highness stays like this, he’ll breathe in all the smoke in his sleep. It’s a temporary fix. Not ideal since it’s soaked in blood, but… better than nothing.”

“Right… Good thinking. So where do we go now?”

No one could easily answer Bernid’s question. Ahead and behind lay only battlefields. They were trapped.

Then, Terrien quietly spoke.

“…Let’s head to the library first.”

“The library? Now? Every enemy knows Yurion practically lived there! Terrien, have you lost your mind?”

Bernid snapped, furious at what he thought was nonsense. Hastings didn’t object aloud, but his expression clearly agreed with Bernid.

Yet Terrien pressed on.

“I can’t explain it fully, but… there’s a secret chamber beneath the library. Only His Highness can access it. I’ve been there once or twice, with his permission. If we can reach that place… there might be a way.”

At those words, Bernid’s eyes lit up.

“Of course…! A prince wouldn’t be without a place like that. Fine—let’s go!”

Just as Bernid was about to move, Terrien stopped him.

“But… like I said, only His Highness can enter. I’m not sure if it’ll still work when he’s like this…”

“Ah… and Yurion’s sleeping like he hasn’t a care in the world…”

At that moment, Yuwon—slung over Terrien’s back—was breathing softly, fast asleep. But they all knew he wasn’t truly asleep. It was no different from being unconscious.

“Still, I know the ring His Highness always wears around his neck is the key. Maybe it’ll work?”

“…Too early to say. If you’re right, then there’s probably some magical safeguard on it. Even with the ring, it might not open without Yurion himself. If that happens, we’ll just be walking to our deaths.”

While Bernid and Terrien debated, Hastings gazed down at Yuwon’s sleeping face. His expression softened.

‘To think this young man once led from the very front lines to protect his people… Yet now, he looks so fragile. How much have we burdened those shoulders with, I wonder…’

Yuwon had focused more on developing his inner power than physical strength. Though he had grown sturdier over time, he still looked far too delicate compared to the knights known for their strength.

‘And now, those frail shoulders carry the weight of being the true heir of the Aphahiel Empire…’

Just then, something wriggled from Yuwon’s chest.

“…You are…?”

It was the Hatchling of the Dragon-Scaled Serpent. The little creature crawled out and greeted them with a cheerful chirp.

Piii—!

Before Hastings could even react, it darted back into Yuwon’s robes.

Slither—

“…?”

When it reappeared, it had something coiled around its tail.

‘A ring…?’

It was the ring Yuwon had received from Marcellus and had worn around his neck ever since. Thanks to the hatchling’s antics, the ring caught Hastings’s eye.

‘Wait… that gem—could it be…!’

Hastings immediately drew the dagger he had received from Marcellus and compared the gem embedded in the dagger’s hilt with the one in Yuwon’s ring.

‘At first glance, they’re both unremarkable stones—too plain to be heirlooms of the Empress. And yet… how can they be identical…?’

The two gems were almost eerily identical.

‘This is it…!’

The moment suspicion turned to certainty, Hastings broke his silence.

“Let’s go. To the library.”

“What? You’d risk all four of our lives on a guess?”

Without replying, Hastings lifted both the ring Yuwon wore and the dagger from Marcellus.

“I think… it’ll work.”

“Hm…”

Bernid’s eyes weren’t for decoration—he understood immediately what Hastings implied.

Then, from the direction of the rebels, a bloodthirsty shout erupted.

“Those men! They’re from the Third and Fifth Princes’ Palaces! The one on that man’s back is the Fifth Prince! After them—kill them all!”

The shout was so loud that every soldier on the battlefield turned toward them at once.

There was no time to hesitate.

“Damn it, they’ve spotted us. Let’s move. Anywhere’s better than here.”

At Bernid’s words, both Terrien and Hastings nodded grimly. The three men gathered their mana into their legs.

The direction of their flight—and Yuwon’s fate—was decided in that instant.

* * *

At the heart of it all—the Grave of Swordss, where everything began—two men still stood after a long and bloody battle, facing one another atop the stone slab where the heroes’ swords were embedded.

“…Marcellus. It’s not too late. Withdraw your forces and give up now. It may seem evenly matched for the moment, but once our reinforcements arrive, it’ll be over for you.”

Already, the two men had acknowledged each other’s strength through their battle.

Ipalim took out one final attempt at persuasion.

“A matter of time, you say… Such pleasing words. That’s enough for me, Ipalim. If I can offer this life—one that should’ve been lost long ago—to buy His Highness the time to escape the palace, that alone will be enough.”

“…Why go so far? For what purpose? The Reqil family, is it not? A bloodline so severed that it barely persists through those who married out—and even they belong to the Imperial family now. You know well that the name Reqil can never rise again. Don’t tell me you….”

Mid-sentence, Ipalim suddenly burst into laughter, as though something had just occurred to him.

“Ha, ha-ha! So that’s it. You were in love with the late Empress. Of course! That explains everything.”

“An amusing thought. Typical of you, Ipalim.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Don’t lie to me, Marcellus! You loved your master—your liege! To think you harbored feelings for the one you served. You’re insane. Is that why you’re doing all this? Because the Fifth Prince is her son?”

“You’re free to delude yourself.”

Marcellus’s reply was devoid of any emotion. It was not the answer Ipalim wanted, yet he pushed on, convinced of his guess.

“Don’t tell me the Fifth Prince is your son or something, is he?”

“…Watch your tongue, Ipalim. His Highness carries the noble blood of both the Imperial family and Reqil. If you ever utter such filthy words again, I’ll tear your mouth apart myself. Ah… but I suppose such a disgusting imagination is fitting for one who’s already murdered his own master.”

“Ha! If it’s neither of those, then say it yourself, Marcellus. A man of your power could be treated as a state guest anywhere you go. So why risk your life for a single prince? The Fifth Prince is still the son of the Emperor you so despised, isn’t he?”

“That is…”

Marcellus trailed off. In that instant, his thoughts tangled into one another and dragged him into the past.

‘Waaah—!’

‘A son! It’s a son, Your Majesty!’

‘Thank goodness… truly… Both my lady and His Highness are safe.’

The day Yurion was born, his cries rang strong. While the Emperor was occupied with state affairs, Marcellus waited anxiously outside, praying for the safety of the Empress and her child.

‘Yes… even his cry then sounded like that of a born general.’

Once the memories surfaced, they refused to leave.

‘Oh! Look, my lady! His Highness just turned over by himself!’

‘Oh my, he truly did!’

‘…How adorable.’

From the moment of Yurion’s birth to the first time he turned himself over, Marcellus had been there—silent, steadfast, always by the side of Yurion and the Empress.

‘Back then, I thought he’d start walking any day now…’

He still remembered the Empress’s tearful eyes the day Yurion crawled away from his nurse’s sight for a moment.

‘My lady… forgive me! I looked away only for a moment and His Highness disappeared!’

‘That can’t be…! He only just started crawling—what strength could a child that young have to vanish alone? In the worst case, it could be kidnapping. We can’t waste time. Deploy everyone to search! Ser, I’m asking for your aid as well.’

‘Yes, my lady. Leave it to me.’

It was the moment Marcellus realized that the lady he served had truly become a mother.

‘She never shed a tear for herself, but when it came to her child, she ran barefoot to find him… That gentle girl…’

When Yurion first began to walk, and again on his third birthday—when Marcellus stood before the young prince not as a shadow, but as Marcellus, introducing himself by name—those memories remained as vivid as yesterday.

‘He used to prefer the stories I read him over those Her Majesty did… though that ended quickly once he learned to read far too early…’

From Yurion’s birth and bright youth, through the years of loss and wandering after his mother’s death, until now—Marcellus had always been there, watching over Yuwon from the closest place.

‘For a Reqil man—known for dying young—to live past twenty in good health… I really did well to turn poison into medicine. Though, looking at His Highness now, I suppose my efforts weren’t the only reason.’

Marcellus already knew. Perhaps the Yurion before him was not the same Yurion he once knew.

The day Yurion awoke after a long unconsciousness, Marcellus had given him something he had never shown before—the Empress’s keepsake.

‘He said he didn’t remember, but his eyes trembled then. He acted as though it was his first time seeing it, but I could tell otherwise. From that day on, everything changed… Maybe… no, it doesn’t matter. The one I know as His Highness is still His Highness. That’s enough.’

In a fleeting instant, Marcellus’s life flashed before his eyes. Those memories curved his lips into a peaceful smile—a sight that made Ipalim grit his teeth.

‘Damn bastard… smiling at a time like this…!’

After a brief silence, Marcellus returned from his thoughts and spoke once more.

“You ask something foolish, Ipalim. Why do I go this far, you wonder? It seems you’ve forgotten the answer we both once knew. Fine, then. I’ll remind you.”

The answer had always been decided. Yet Marcellus chose to speak the ‘right’ answer—not the one in his heart.

“Because she was my master.”

Though he had once loved his master, he had buried that feeling deep within himself, just as he now chose to bury the other emotions he held for Yurion.

A man born, raised, and destined to live as a shadow stood now, driven by a father’s heart.

“…If that’s your reason, then there’s no avoiding bloodshed. So be it. I stand here for my new master as well. Don’t hold it against me.”

“As I hoped.”

Ipalim raised his blade once more, aiming at Marcellus. Marcellus discarded his own broken sword and reached for another—one embedded in the ground beside him.

Shrrng—

At the center of the Grave of Swordss, the White Dragon Sword—which Yuwon had driven into the ground as a support and left behind when it refused to budge—slid free as though drawn to Marcellus’s hand.

“From the moment I stood here, I abandoned all desire to live. Come. I’ll take you with me to the afterlife.”

The fateful duel that would alter the Empire’s history neared its end.

That night, one more sword joined the Grave of Swordss.

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