Seiyad recognized those eyes. The same gaze Zion had once cast upon him, standing righteously in the light, denouncing Seiyad—the so-called “Devil.” Ruthless and cruel as he was, Zion had initially looked upon him with pity, just as the virtuous might pity the wicked.
And so, Seiyad had assumed Zion, like Ressas, was simply a naïve idealist, blind to reality. That belief had drawn a clearer line between himself and them—and had even led him to doubt the innocence of his mother, whom he had believed in all his life, wondering if that faith had been nothing more than a delusion.
But now he saw he had been wrong.
Zion had been looking down on them all along. That was why Zion had grown angry at Seiyad’s actions, why he had, at times, shown him pity—because he believed Seiyad and his family were pathetic creatures who had been mercifully spared thanks only to the benevolence of his own house.
“Even tearing you to pieces wouldn’t be enough…!”
As Cecilia drew her sword and stepped forward, the knights of Shildras behind them unsheathed their own blades. The sharp sound of steel rang out—shiiing—and Cecilia flinched, turning around. Dozens of knights stood tense, brimming with hostility toward her. Though fear of having to confront a Tither was clear in their eyes, it was accompanied by contempt and disgust.
The sudden flood of raw, negative emotions shook Cecilia to her core. Never in her life had she been subjected to such concentrated loathing. It was a new, overwhelming experience—and in that instant, it nearly crushed her. Startled, she turned her gaze toward Seiyad.
Seiyad had always feared a moment like this. It was enough for him to bear this kind of treatment alone. For Cecilia to be hated and despised by the masses—no, by the entire kingdom—was something she should never have to endure.
Even a single person’s hatred could leave a scar on the heart. To face the hatred of many alone was to invite the ruin of one’s soul.
“If you don’t want to die, lower your sword.”
Seiyad’s voice was chilling. It should have been Zion who stepped in to intervene—but instead of stopping things, he condemned Seiyad.
“Are you threatening my knights right now, Your Grace? It was your sister who first raised a weapon.”
“Do mere knights have any right to interfere in Tither affairs? Or is it that they were so terrified of my newly awakened sister’s blade that they’re hoping someone will protect them?”
“No, it’s because it’s clear she isn’t worth my direct attention.”
“Then you’re no different from your father—trying to intimidate others through sheer numbers. Just like the weak Sirkhan Shildras, who ended his life in bed, unbefitting of a Tither’s legacy.”
Zion’s golden-brown eyes flared with fury. As the anger within them rippled outward, the air around him shimmered with light.
“Don’t you dare insult the father who even showed mercy to a wretched demon like you.”
“We’ll see if you still revere him once the truth comes to light. So stop spewing nonsense and move along already.”
With that, Seiyad swept his eyes over the knights who had readied themselves. He glared at them with a murderous gaze. If he even twitched a finger, they wouldn’t even have time to scream before dying—yet they dared to posture with such arrogance. That was when Vine, who had been watching quietly, stepped in.
“Uh, maybe we should all calm down? I don’t know what’s gotten into you people, but the Grand Duke can kill us without lifting a sword. I didn’t come here to watch a fight—I came to catch Nir’a….”
Most of the knights from Ressas were familiar faces to Seiyad. Among them, those who were unfamiliar whispered hurriedly for Vine to stop. But Vine didn’t back down—instead, his expression remained indifferent.
“Are you the only one who doesn’t know what even a low-ranking knight understands?”
Seiyad caught his words and threw them back immediately, causing Zion to snap.
“Vine, what the hell are you doing?! Don’t you realize the Grand Duke is the enemy, persecuting Ressas?!”
Zion sounded like someone betrayed, scolding Vine as though he had been wounded. Watching the exchange, Rigda stepped forward politely to side with Vine.
“Your Highness, if you truly care for Prince Ressas, it would be better to de-escalate this and focus on the subjugation mission. That will enhance your reputation far more.”
And clearly, Zion didn’t like Rigda’s rebuttal one bit. He had grown up without ever facing pushback or insults from subordinates, so this was a humiliation he could not tolerate.
“Know your place and shut your mouths, both of you. You insult the lord who took in orphans and commoners like you and made you knights.”
Rigda’s expression hardened. Even Vine, who’d looked bored until now, grew serious.
“Do you say that knowing the reason we had to grow up as orphans?”
It was unlike the normally carefree Vine to speak with such weight. And Seiyad realized—he couldn’t defeat Zion with words alone. Zion was using the absence of Ressas’s gaze to seize control of the moment. Seiyad strode toward him and thrust out an arm, grabbing Zion by the collar.
“Shut up and do your job, Shildras.”
Zion’s eyes flared with both outrage and disbelief. Just as Seiyad prepared to speak again, a chill ran down his spine. His body always sensed it first—whenever Nir’a appeared. He turned his head toward the forest’s interior.
“Are you insane? Have you finally lost your mind? Let go of me this instant!”
Though Seiyad was bigger, Zion was a Tither. He wasn’t vastly inferior in raw strength. He gripped Seiyad’s wrist as if trying to crush it. But Seiyad’s gaze had already drifted past him—fixed beyond, into the woods. Though daylight poured through the trees, he could feel Nir’a’s dark aura in the distance.
“Shildras, get into battle formation. Now.”
It might’ve been tempting to settle the score with Zion here and now, but this wasn’t the time. As expected, Zion protested his order.
“Don’t try to change the subject. You’ll pay for this when we return—”
“Nir’a is here. MOVE!”
The mention of Nir’a stirred a murmur among the knights. Stella, who had approached to break up the tension, followed Seiyad’s line of sight—then paled and gestured frantically.
“Zion, look over there.”
At the end of Stella’s pointing finger loomed a dark figure. An indistinct shadow, impossible to fully make out, was approaching from the forest’s edge. Zion turned his head instinctively—and spotted Nir’a. He shoved Seiyad aside and straightened his stance.
“Everyone, stay calm! Nir’a feeds on fear—so even if terror creeps in, resist it!”
Shouting bravely, he drew his sacred sword and passed Seiyad without another glance. His fingertips trembled, but he forced himself to appear composed. He turned to Stella.
“Stella, when they arrive, immobilize them. Judging by the size, that’s a mid-tier Nir’a.”
“Got it. But…”
Looking uncertain, Stella glanced toward Seiyad and asked,
“How is Nir’a out in broad daylight? And it’s spring right now…”
“I’m the one in command. Focus on what’s right in front of us.”
Zion, keeping Seiyad in check, began moving quickly. But the petty power struggle wasn’t what occupied Seiyad’s mind right now.
The tale Ressas had once told him—of a Nir’a appearing during daylight in Takhan—was supposed to happen three years from now. Events were moving ahead of schedule. Things were accelerating, diverging from the timeline he remembered. That realization hit just as Nir’a revealed itself before them.
The Nir’a, which had seemed to be crawling sluggishly like a beetle, was in fact much faster than it looked. Strangely, upon spotting the group, it didn’t charge. Instead, it did something else entirely. Unlike any previous Nir’a encounter Seiyad had experienced, it moved right past the people.
It appeared to charge—but there was no blast of terror as usual. Nir’a typically radiated fear the instant it made eye contact. But this one didn’t.
“It’s big, but it’s just a low-tier! Don’t be afraid—aim for the red core! Compared to last winter, this is nothing!”
The knights, startled at first by the Nir’a’s appearance in daylight, regained their composure thanks to Zion’s rallying cry and formed into combat ranks. Zion, slightly relieved, raised his hand and released his power. As a Shildras who wielded light, killing Nir’a came more easily to him.
The intense light he summoned flooded the air, and then condensed into a searing wave that scorched only its intended target—setting it ablaze.
KIIIIK, KIIIIIEEEK!
A massive beam of light descended as if summoned from the heavens, engulfing the Nir’a. The scene was as beautiful as a divine revelation—but Zion’s power was utterly destructive.
The blackened ash that spiraled up marked the Nir’a’s complete annihilation, drawing shouts of awe from the knights.
“Uwaaaah!”
Looking triumphant, Zion glanced back at Seiyad.
“Seems Your Grace doesn’t even need to step in. Shadows in daylight are laughably weak—and I’d guess even your powers are diminished right now. I’ll handle everything.”
It was a mistaken assumption—but Seiyad didn’t correct him. Instead, he looked deeper into the woods. The shadows there were swarming like cockroaches.
“Zion, we’ll watch the rear—focus forward.”
No sooner had Stella issued her warning than the Nir’a began flooding toward them. But again—it was strange. Just like the one before, these didn’t try to incite fear. Instead, they seemed to sweep past as if fleeing something.
‘Something’s wrong.’
It was as if they were running away from something.
Stella, who had been watching Seiyad’s expression closely, must have sensed something too. She asked him quietly,
“Are you okay?”
“Stella, once the fighting starts, assist Nova and Cecilia. Neither of them have experience—help them manage the knights.”
“But the situation’s not that bad, is it? All of those look like low-tier Nir’a.”
The moment Stella finished speaking, a chill ran through her entire body. A physical reaction to unnatural fear—something that only happened in the presence of a high-tier Nir’a. The sudden shift in atmosphere silenced the air. Even Zion, who had drawn his sacred sword again, stood frozen, staring ahead.
Black shadows began to blanket the forest. Nir’a—ones that should’ve been dormant—were advancing, crawling and leaping, small and large alike. And behind them came a shadow far too massive to be compared to the rest.
Nir’a had never moved as one collective mass like this.
Before that thought even finished, the thing chasing the Nir’a finally revealed itself.
It had the torso of a buffalo, the legs of a pig, and a grotesquely elongated neck ending in a boar’s head. But most disturbing of all—it was covered in hundreds of red cores, Nir’a’s one vulnerability, embedded all across its body.
Even Seiyad, hardened by years of horrors, was momentarily speechless at the sight of the abomination. Then, the creature opened its gaping mouth—and devoured the Nir’a ahead of it in a single bite.
“What… the hell is that…?”
Zion murmured in a daze, staggering back slightly. The ear-piercing KIEEEEK of the Nir’a filled the air, echoing in all directions.
The remaining Nir’a, watching their kin being eaten from behind, continued surging forward, reaching the humans.
And then, the massive monster—until now leisurely hunting Nir’a—turned its head and spotted the people.
The hundreds of red cores embedded in its body glimmered.
“Don’t just stand there—command your troops, Shildras!”
Seiyad’s roar rang out—and the monster, now fully aware of human prey, began to charge.
