He hadn’t gone into detail, but he could guess. Rumors had circulated after the Ritual of Invocation before. Wild tales blamed the unprecedented catastrophe on a curse born of Lord Axid’s cruelty, or whispered that the Duke—being a devil—had orchestrated it all in secret. Everyone had something to say.
“Did you really have to get so angry over something like that?”
“Huh?”
When he questioned his incomprehensible reaction, Quilly blinked in surprise.
“It’s all baseless gossip anyway. Not even worth acknowledging. And even if you confronted them, it wouldn’t change their minds. People believe what they want to believe. Getting involved only harms you.”
“But hearing it still upsets me!”
Quilly burst out, seething with frustration.
“Sure, it’s maddening how people get swept up in rumors. But isn’t that just how people are? That’s why there needs to be someone like me—someone loud and relentless who points out what’s wrong when it’s wrong. Only then do they hesitate and maybe think twice. Otherwise, everyone just assumes they’re right.”
His words felt like something from an entirely different world. Yes, the rumors might be exaggerated, but Seiyad wasn’t exactly the kind of man Quilly should be defending. Hundreds of lives he could’ve saved had been lost in his wake. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. For Seiyad, killing wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. As Aster’s future bodyguard, he would go on to kill many more.
“They’re not entirely wrong.”
His voice was cold, cynical.
“So stop wasting your time with nonsense. It’ll only hurt you.”
To Seiyad, it was enough that Quilly was still alive at this hour. He didn’t want that barely salvaged life to be endangered by something so trivial.
“But aren’t you saying this because you’re worried about me?”
His expression twisted into a scowl, but Quilly didn’t back down.
“You kept everyone in the estate because you were worried it’d be dangerous, didn’t you? I don’t know what change of heart led you to do that, but thanks to it, no one got hurt. And besides, Your Grace is the guardian of the North. People in these lands are only safe because of you.”
Luna snorted and tossed her white mane with a soft whinny.
“See? Even Luna agrees!”
He found himself momentarily speechless. Quilly spoke of duties that were simply expected, yet delivered them as if they were praise. Tither existed to protect this land. Like the sun rising and setting, it was a matter of course. But Quilly insisted on treating it as something noteworthy. He considered correcting him but quickly realized it would be a waste of time.
“Enough. That’s enough. You’ve grown bold today, Quilly. You’re talking too much.”
This conversation would never end if he let it continue. With a tilt of his chin, he ordered Quilly to leave. But the boy grinned, seemingly delighted.
“Well, it’s been years since Your Grace last spoke to me. I guess I got a bit carried away.”
Had it really been that long?
At some point, Seiyad had stopped looking back. Reflecting on unchangeable pasts had always felt like a waste of time. So he had let much of it slip away.
He stared quietly at Quilly. The boy had always been bright, ever since they were young. Seiyad had liked keeping him nearby. They had shared so many years together. For a long time, Quilly had remained both an advisor and a mischievous companion by his side.
When Cecilia sulked, Quilly always knew just how to cheer her up. Rather than ordering servants to fetch food, he’d sneak into Kellaran’s room and steal sweets just to spite him. And even when he got caught and scolded, he’d laugh it off, saying it was worth it if it made Seiyad smile.
The distance between them had started after what happened with his mother. Back then, neither Quilly, Kellaran, nor the other long-time retainers believed in the innocence Seiyad insisted upon. That was simply the way things were. To preserve the family, they had to reject the disgraced head and keep their heads down.
In a situation where understanding each other was impossible, Seiyad had given up on persuasion. Instead, he chose to walk the path alone. And eventually, he’d seen the edge of life.
“Go.”
The emotions that crept in, one by one, felt unfamiliar and strange. At his curt dismissal, Quilly gave him one last smile and handed over a piece of apple.
“Have a good time with Luna.”
Unlike his earlier cheekiness, Quilly’s parting words were respectful. Luna wagged her tail gently, as if to see him off. But the moment Quilly left, she tried to snatch the apple from Seiyad’s hand. Out of habit, he drew his hand back. Luna stared at him with wide, expectant eyes.
Seiyad had always been a strict master. Concerned about cavities, he never gave Luna apples, pears, or sugar cubes—even though she loved them. Maybe that’s why Luna didn’t push any further.
Suddenly, he recalled the Luna from years later—the one who walked the battlefield at his side and died for him. That loyal horse had braved terrors even humans feared, just to stay near him. He remembered her with a broken leg and her body pierced through by a Nir’a. And he wondered, in that final moment, had she been happy?
Slowly, Seiyad extended the apple. Luna stared at it, unmoving at first, but then—realizing he was offering it—she calmly accepted it. As she enjoyed the affectionate strokes along her neck, her tail swayed gently, long and relaxed.
The Forest of Night was not a place one could enter alone—at least, no one but Seiyad dared to do so. Even when the Nir’a slept during the day, the forest was treacherous. It was a deep, dark place, where one lost their sense of direction the moment they stepped in. The trees stood thick, their shadows crowding every corner.
In such overwhelming darkness, it wasn’t unusual for a Nir’a to appear out of nowhere. And the beasts that lived there were unlike any ordinary animal. The Nir’a, which preyed only on human souls, ignored the beasts. But the beasts that coexisted with such horrors grew fond of hunting humans even when they weren’t hungry. This was one reason the North remained perilous. Even after winter passed, corrupted creatures emerged from the forest, and someone always had to stand guard.
Even for Tither, patrolling the winter-bound forests alone was a dangerous task. But Seiyad managed it because of his unique ability. He could vanish into darkness—erasing all trace of sound, all sense of presence. That alone allowed him to pass through the woods without trouble.
Some said it was a cursed power.
Regardless, using that cursed power, he swiftly scouted the forest’s edge.
In truth, Seiyad had not personally witnessed the deaths of Bridehit and Vetria. He had led the party, forging ahead through the forest, and only heard later that the two had died while fending off a Nir’a that ambushed their group. The sole survivor had been a royal knight—and even he had lost half his mind.
When the scene was later examined, traces of a large Nir’a had been found. But in hindsight, there were many inconsistencies. Even a large Nir’a should have been manageable if two Dukes joined forces. It would’ve been particularly easy for someone as experienced as Bridehit.
Which meant—there had to have been another factor.
Seiyad scoured the entire forest edge, but found no immediate trace of a large Nir’a. When dormant, a Nir’a settled like a black mass with its core at the center, but there wasn’t a single mid-tier or higher Nir’a in sight.
Until now, Nir’a had acted much like territorial beasts, never leaving their domains. Something must have triggered them to emerge…
Looking back on past incidents, Seiyad confirmed that the Nir’a had begun expanding their range. It wasn’t just that they were spreading beyond the forest—it was happening inside it, too. From that point onward, the forest became more dangerous than it had ever been. Whereas in the past local lords could manage the forest on their own, by the year of Seiyad’s death, the remaining Tither had to unite just to survive the harshest winter together.
Something was making the Nir’a stronger. A suspicion he had often entertained before dying had now hardened into conviction.
Troubled by the thought, Seiyad eliminated all the dormant Nir’a at the edge of the forest and made his way out. By the time he emerged, the sun had already set. In the North, it was normal for darkness to fall quickly after a late lunch, and by this hour, the residents would have locked their doors and begun preparing dinner.
To return to the fortress, he headed for the village where Luna had been stabled. Wild beasts occasionally strayed past the forest’s boundary, so he typically left Luna at the nearest stable for safety. But something felt off.
Tracks—animal tracks—lined the path to the village, all heading in the same direction. And the footprints in the snow didn’t belong to just one beast.
This was a human hunt. Not the work of a starving predator, but of beasts corrupted by the Nir’a.
It was a common enough occurrence in winter, but it had been a long time since Seiyad had personally intervened. When the time came to hunt Nir’a, he prioritized that above all else. If a village was attacked by beasts, he would dispatch knights. But even then, their numbers were rarely enough. Sometimes the knights succeeded, but depending on the type and number of beasts, they often lost their lives too.
So winter had gradually become a season of dread for the people of Axid’s domain. Some even left. Those who had accumulated enough resources were quick to abandon Axid.
“Your power exists to protect the world, my son.”
After his mother’s death, Seiyad had come to believe that slaying the Nir’a was the only way to protect the world. Yet now, her words about protecting the weak echoed in his mind. Perhaps it was Ressas who stirred these memories—but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.
Seiyad sprinted toward the village. He pushed through snow that reached up to his calves, rushing toward a scene of utter chaos. Screams and shouts blended in every direction.
“Mommy!”
The first thing he saw was a child who had tripped and fallen. A wolf, rummaging through an empty house, poked its head out at the sound of crying. From the opposite side, the child’s mother, spotting the hulking beast emerging from the doorway, screamed in terror.
“Judy! Hurry, come here!”
She ran toward her child—but she wasn’t faster than the wolf. Its yellow eyes gleamed with bloodlust as it lunged toward the child with swift, predatory movements.
“No—!”
With the woman’s scream, Seiyad summoned his power. The shadow beneath the wolf’s feet twisted in an instant, rising from the ground and lunging at its owner.
Crack!
A black spike shot up from the earth and impaled the charging wolf mid-air. As thick as a man’s forearm, the spear-like shadow pierced straight through the beast’s sturdy chest. With a strangled yelp, the wolf died instantly.
“M-Mom…”
The child trembled, tears spilling down her cheeks. Shocked by the sudden turn of events, the woman rushed to her daughter, scooping her into her arms just as she reached out.
But Seiyad spotted another wolf charging from behind. This one was much larger than the last, and it leapt toward the mother and child as if it would crush them in a single bound.
Seiyad reacted immediately, sweeping his hand through the air. Another spike shot up from the ground, aiming to impale the beast—but a flying sword reached it first, stabbing through its flank.
Keh-hehng!
With a tortured shriek, the wolf that had nearly reached them rolled across the snow. Seiyad turned his gaze toward the direction the sword had come from.
That precise strike could only have come from someone trained in the sword. Who had arrived here ahead of him?
When he looked, he saw Ressas, clearly having rushed to the scene.
