Shhhk, shhhk—the dozens of legs skittering across the ground made a chilling sound. The spider bore no visible red gleam in its eyes. A creature sculpted from pure darkness, its monstrous form immediately struck terror into all who saw it.
“A-a monster!”
“Run!”
“Protect His Highness!”
Chaos erupted in an instant, spiraling into pandemonium that could no longer be controlled. Only the knights seasoned enough to have previously faced mid-tier Nir’a managed to suppress their fear and rushed to protect the Crown Prince. But the monster moved faster. Its towering legs slammed down mercilessly. Within moments, the formation was shattered.
Seiyad stepped back and shouted.
“Escort His Highness to safety, everyone fall back!”
Before his command had even fully left his mouth, the Nir’a sprang into action. It was heading straight for the most crowded area—the Crown Prince’s group. Seiyad drew a sharp breath, then kicked off the ground. He closed the distance in a blur far beyond the capability of any ordinary man and came up alongside the Nir’a. Carefully, he began channeling power through his fingertips. A creature of this size would become dangerously berserk if struck, so ideally, it should be dealt with in an area devoid of people…
‘No choice.’
His body signaled its readiness. A red gleam flickered in Seiyad’s black eyes. At his call, the darkness began to stir. The Nir’a’s long shadow, cast by the flickering torches all around, began to twist with strange intent. Just as it had mirrored its host before, in the next instant, it surged upward as Seiyad clenched his fist.
From the darkness on the earth, hundreds of sharp blades erupted. Resembling black spears, they shot up from every inch of the shadow and pierced the Nir’a’s body.
Kiiiiieek—!
Screeching, the Nir’a twisted and thrashed as the spears impaled its lower body. Its long legs flailed and swept wildly in all directions. Too large and too fast for anyone to evade, its spasms could have wiped out everything around it—if not for Vetria.
Her vines coiled tightly around the spider’s legs, suspending them mid-air and halting their path of destruction. Then, roots from the earth surged up and entangled the Nir’a’s torso. Confirming that it was temporarily immobilized, Seiyad scanned the area. His gaze locked onto a fallen knight.
“Did you see where His Highness went?”
The young man’s face was still boyish—barely an adult, perhaps. One of the group who had taken down the smaller Nir’a earlier, he looked up at Seiyad’s crimson pupils and trembled as he staggered backward.
“A-a devil… He’s a devil…!”
Bracing himself with a hand against the ground, the knight drew his sword. Seiyad’s power often drew this reaction once his pupils shifted color, but he had no time to deal with it. He turned away.
But the knight charged, shouting like a man possessed.
“Like hell I’ll let a monster like you near His Highness!”
Before he could reach him, Seiyad’s shadow surged up and overwhelmed the knight, subduing him with a flurry of choking darkness. Ignoring the screaming struggle behind him, Seiyad quickly assessed the battlefield. The area was in chaos. Some had fallen. Only the most seasoned knights were tending to the wounded and escorting them to the temple.
‘The fear has spread far.’
Mid-tier Nir’a were known to radiate an aura of ‘terror.’ Their very presence was enough to raise goosebumps, but they also preyed upon weak minds, inducing unnatural dread. The young knight had clearly lacked the experience to withstand it.
Seiyad’s power allowed him to command darkness as his limbs, manipulating all shadows upon the earth. The red gleam in his eyes and the darkness that spread in his wake made him appear every bit the demon people feared him to be.
“Your Grace, this is bad. I don’t know how, but you were right.”
At that moment, Duke Bridehit appeared with a grim expression.
“More Nir’a keep emerging at the borders. Smaller ones, but there are a lot of them. I’ve already killed five on my way here.”
The Duke pointed toward the boundary. Just as he remembered—the number of small Nir’a that followed the larger one had split their forces thin. Never before had the creatures awakened this early from hibernation. The chaos from the Nir’a incursion was repeating itself exactly as before.
“Have you found His Highness?”
“Duchess Vetria has already escorted him to the temple. We’re going to establish our defensive line there.”
“Is Prince Ressas there as well?”
The mention of Ressas made the Duke’s face fall in dismay. With a regretful look, he shook his head.
“We prioritized the Crown Prince’s safety. I haven’t confirmed the prince’s status yet.”
It was true that protecting Aster, the heir and guide, was Tither’s foremost duty. But the fact that no one had even thought of Ressas until now left Seiyad with a strange discomfort. He glanced toward the forest and spoke to Bridehit.
“I’ll find the prince.”
“You?”
Bridehit echoed the words as though he’d heard something peculiar. But Seiyad, having said what he needed, turned without another word and began heading toward the woods. From behind, Bridehit shouted.
“Would it kill you to answer properly?!”
A shrill screech from the momentarily subdued Nir’a answered in his place. That level of mid-tier Nir’a was something even an average Tither could handle alone. Bridehit could manage the cleanup.
Seiyad focused his mind and plunged into the darkness. His consciousness extended, following the whispers of shadow far into the distance. There, he sensed the presence of Prince Ressas. He hadn’t strayed too far from the border, but he had clearly lost his way.
Estimating the prince’s rough location, Seiyad spotted two knights about to head out and called to them.
“You two. Follow me.”
“U-Us, sir?”
“Now.”
The knights flinched as they looked at Seiyad, clearly intimidated. Thankfully, they didn’t cower like the young one earlier. Though hesitant, they couldn’t defy a Tither’s command and reluctantly moved to follow him. While Seiyad naturally preferred operating alone, he brought them along because he was certain there would be many injured among the prince’s entourage.
The moment they entered the forest, the air changed. Every breath felt like icy shards stabbing into their lungs. Unlike the outside, snow had already blanketed the inner woods. As they trudged through it, one knight cautiously asked,
“Um, where exactly… are we going?”
Seiyad said nothing. He only ever spoke when it was absolutely necessary, making detailed explanations or encouragements foreign to him. He’d always been a quiet person, but at some point, he simply realized that words often served no purpose.
“It’s dangerous to enter the forest with just us. There are much stronger knights stationed behind—”
“Shh.”
Cutting off the knight, who seemed to be speaking out of genuine concern, Seiyad raised his hand. His gaze pierced through the impenetrable darkness ahead. A shiver of breath trembled behind him at the sight. The silence was shattered by a distant scream.
Sir Anka!
The knights must have heard it too—they turned their heads in unison. Seiyad broke into a sprint.
“Don’t fall behind. There’ll be injured—your job is to retrieve and assist them.”
Each time his feet struck the ground, trees blurred past in a rush. Seiyad burst through branches, cutting through the labyrinthine dark. He left behind marks and disturbances for the knights to follow and raced toward the source of the cry.
As he entered a small clearing, he spotted the scene: four Nir’a shaped like massive bears in a standoff with the prince’s remaining forces.
“Vine, on your left!”
At Ressas’s shout, one of the Nir’a hurled its hulking mass at a knight. The warning reached him just in time to dodge. Behind him, Ressas had gathered the wounded and now stood alone against another of the creatures, sword in hand. Including him, there were only two people left standing. Seiyad scanned the ground. The deep shadows of the forest made it difficult to form precise constructs. It was better to summon power directly into his own body.
“Your Highness, please—run. Leave us behind. There’s no chance of victory.”
Blood streamed from Anka’s shoulder where he had been heavily clawed. He leaned against a stone, gripping the wound tightly. His plea momentarily unsettled Ressas. That moment of hesitation was all the remaining two Nir’a needed—they charged at the defenseless wounded.
“No! Anka!”
The prince’s voice cracked with desperation. He turned his back on the Nir’a he was fighting and sprinted toward Anka. Seiyad, who had been planning to use his sword to kill them one by one, changed tactics. The backlash would be severe, but summoning the shadows was the only way to save Anka.
His eyes flared deep crimson. The darkness within the forest stirred at his command. Then—like an inverted bolt of lightning—long spears erupted from the earth, impaling the beasts as they neared the prince’s group.
Gaaah! GAAAAH!
With their movement halted, Seiyad lunged in. Kicking off the ground, he swung his longsword directly at one beast’s forehead. Crack! The blade embedded itself precisely into the core nestled between its eyes. The Nir’a, whose gaze had glowed red like his, crumbled to black ash and scattered into nothing.
The rest was easy. As if merely breathing, Seiyad shattered the foreheads of the remaining creatures with clean, swift strikes. Not a single drop of blood marred his blade. As he lowered it, pale moonlight belatedly bathed the clearing.
Hmph. Seiyad exhaled briefly. He turned his head toward the intense gaze fixed upon him—Ressas stood tall, staring straight at him.
His state reflected the desperation he had just endured. His garments were drenched in blood—not his own, but of those he’d tried to save. His soft hair clung wetly to his brow, and tear tracks marked his pale cheeks. And yet, he still stood guard, shielding Anka and the others with sword in hand, as if to protect those dearest to him. That fierce determination clung to his face like an afterimage.
Seiyad glanced past him to the others. Their armor was shredded, their flesh torn. They were a mess, but none seemed to have succumbed to the Nir’a’s mental corruption. As he wordlessly observed the survivors, he met the eyes of a knight behind Ressas. A freckled youth with crimson hair flinched the moment their eyes met and whispered under his breath.
“The Devil of Solias…”
Though softly spoken, the clearing was silent enough that the words rang clear. The knights who heard them visibly recoiled and averted their gazes. A wave of discomfort rippled through the survivors, mixing relief with dread on every face.
The Devil of Solias.
It was a reputation Seiyad had earned after becoming head of his house—not just for his nature, but because his powers so closely resembled those of the Nir’a. A being cloaked in shadow, eyes glowing red—he knew well such a figure could never look like a savior.
He had heard it a thousand times. Felt it a thousand more. Without the slightest reaction, Seiyad looked away from them and fixed his gaze on Ressas.
“Turning your back in combat is tantamount to suicide.”
His crimson eyes bore down on the prince. He continued.
“And stepping in for knights who are meant to protect you is no different. I wonder if those lives you preserved were truly worth the risk. You should have let them serve as your meat shields and ensured your safety.”
It was an honest admonition. The knights existed to protect Ressas, not the other way around. That he had risked his life for them was foolish. Seiyad didn’t want to see him die—not just emotionally, but because Ressas was essential. His cleansing power was vital in eradicating the Nir’a. Losing someone like him would be an irreparable loss.
His words struck home. The fallen knights’ faces twisted in shame. One by one, they struggled to their knees before Ressas. Among them was Sir Anka.
“We’re sorry, Your Highness. The Duke speaks true.”
“We failed our duty. Please, punish us.”
Their voices joined in unison. Ressas’s hand trembled. Conflicted, he furrowed his brow. Like a snowstorm crashing through a spring breeze, cold fury crept into his gentle features.
“There is no hierarchy in the worth of life.”
His voice was calm—yet sharp as ice.
“So I’ll return your advice, Duke. I will repay the debt of saving my life. Mark my words.”
His words, burning blue like fire, left no doubt: Ressas was furious.
