It was a strange feeling.
Even more than the times he reminisced about his deceased parents or the sister who had left him, Seiyad found himself wanting to see Ressas with overwhelming intensity. It terrified him—this ache, so similar to pain, for someone whose face he had seen just that morning.
Driven by a yearning akin to agony, Seiyad’s feet, which had briefly halted, followed the path Zion had taken. With one hand, he pushed open the heavy wooden doors that towered above him and stepped into the chapel. The vast hall and the high ceiling, painted with the night sky, greeted him. A dazzling array of stars embroidered in gold and a radiant moon at their center looked down upon the people.
At the far end of the grand chapel, standing on the dais with the sun at his back, was Aster.
After three days apart, Aster looked more like the sun than ever before. Hair like golden threads spun from sunlight and eyes so piercingly blue they seemed to chill. His very appearance gave the illusion that he was the sun incarnate—undeniable, untouchable, a being of pure light. As though darkness had never come close to him.
“My star has arrived.”
The rich, beautiful baritone filled the sanctuary. Rising from where he’d been leaning on the dais, Aster walked toward Seiyad, his footsteps steady. The Tithers who had been stationed in advance observed the scene in silence, yet Aster’s eyes never blinked, as though Seiyad was the only one he saw.
Seiyad, who had stopped at the doorway, wiped all emotion from his face and watched him intently. Disgust surged in his gut at the sight of the Crown Prince welcoming him instead of the one he had so desperately longed to see. The fury that had always been aimed at vague, formless enemies now surged violently toward its rightful target.
In his foolish past, unaware of anything, Seiyad once believed that very smile had saved him. That Aster, and only Aster, stood on his side and protected him. With nowhere else to turn, Seiyad had clung to him with desperate devotion. Even as the years went by and Aster’s commands increasingly isolated and alienated him, he clung to the belief that the noble Crown Prince would never abandon him.
He thought that by making Aster king, the false charges laid upon his mother would finally be cleared. So he tormented Ressas. He cursed the appearance he once praised as beautiful, calling it a cursed resemblance to Queen Leana. He agreed when Aster said Ressas didn’t belong beside the sun. He poured countless waves of hatred onto Ressas—hatred that should always have been directed at Aster.
Without realizing it, in his dying moments, he had called out for him. The very devil who deceived him, who made him lonely and isolated, mistaking him for salvation.
“Why that look? Didn’t you miss me?”
Aster’s smile deepened as he approached. Seiyad, staring at that unreadable face, felt a savage, almost primal desire to tear him apart. A hatred so potent it swallowed him whole wrapped around his soul, staining it black with rage—after so long spent facing only gentle emotions.
“You’re holding onto the bloodline of the man who led your family to death. You shouldn’t wear that face.”
No, to rip him apart would be merciful. What Seiyad truly wanted was for Aster to crumble—to fall into despair and ruin. He wanted him to feel the wretchedness that had consumed him for so long. If there was a hell, he wanted Aster to fall into it. He wanted him to witness the bottom of the world.
Compared to this, the fury he once felt toward Zion was nothing.
Hatred gripped Seiyad’s entire being.
“Smile, Eid.”
Aster reached out his hand. As always, it was a warm hand that cupped his chin—but now, it felt like the chill of snake skin crawling across his flesh. Until now, Seiyad had endured the unease Aster made him feel, but now, standing this close to the truth, the revulsion was unbearable.
A wave of nausea surged up his throat. His body screamed to reject Aster’s touch. He had vowed to suppress these feelings, to act, to smile and stay by Aster’s side long enough to witness his downfall—but this madness, this fury—
“Smile prettily, like last time. Make your master happy.”
His whole body trembled so hard he forgot Aster was the Crown Prince. He wanted to kill him—right now. If he could kill him right this instant, he would give up his soul without hesitation.
“His Majesty the King approaches!”
Aster, who had been watching Seiyad’s wide, frenzied eyes with amusement, wiped the smile from his lips at the echoing announcement that filled the sanctuary. His eyes, which had only feigned warmth, now chilled as they looked past Seiyad.
The King had arrived. The knight’s proclamation snapped Seiyad back to his senses. Suppressing his ragged breathing, he turned his body aside and stepped away.
Creak—the doors opened wide, and the King entered, flanked by knights.
The elite guards of the Light of the Sun entered first, followed by those in the Armor of the Blue Moon. Among them was Ressas.
It would’ve been impossible for him to blend in with his towering height, but even among so many, Ressas stood out. Beside him, Adena stood with a stiff, uncomfortable expression.
“You’ve come a long way, Your Majesty. You must be weary.”
Aster bowed his head slightly as the King approached. The smile he had briefly hidden now returned to his face, greeting his father with a warm, pleasant mask.
But the King, whose expression had soured the moment he stepped inside, only spared Aster a glance before scanning the room.
His gaze moved over Duke Bridehit, whose face was tight with tension, then Nova, Stella, Cecilia, and finally Zion.
The King, who had remained silent, finally spoke.
“The kingdom is in an uproar over the incident in the South. I hear the House of Shildras is entangled in unspeakable matters. Is that true?”
Normally, the King would have greeted his son with warmth before addressing such matters. Today, he went straight to the point.
Aster, keeping his usual calm smile, locked eyes with Ressas behind the King.
Just for a moment, Ressas’s eyes seemed to flash a frost-bitten shade of blue.
“It’s true. Sirkhan Shildras, the former Duke of House Shildras, made a pact with the Devil and conspired to threaten the kingdom. There’s evidence scattered across the region, and even Duke Bridehit agrees. As a close friend, he now sees, in hindsight, how obsessed that man was with the Devil.”
Aster delivered the explanation with more politeness than usual.
Everyone in the chapel could feel the King’s displeasure. For Aster not to notice it would have been stranger.
Seiyad closely observed him, wondering—could Aster manipulate the King? Would he use his powers here?
Just how far did Aster’s power truly reach? That was the question.
“The appearance of the Devil threatens the very survival of the kingdom. So why did you not report this directly to me? Had Ressas not sent word personally, I would’ve only heard about it once everything was already over.”
The King’s voice carried a quiet anger. Aster’s smile vanished.
The air around him turned frigid, like a sheet of ice had spread across the room. A chill crept across Seiyad’s skin.
“I was merely exercising the authority Your Majesty entrusted to me. I feared that if I troubled you with this, I would no longer be worthy to act on behalf of the Sun. But rooting out all Devil-related threats is, after all, what’s best for both Your Majesty and Solias, is it not?”
The words flowed without a hitch—there was no fault to find in them.
Watching it all unfold, Seiyad’s complexion turned pale. The way Aster so casually spoke of Devils stoked his hatred anew, reigniting the fury that had momentarily quieted the instant he saw Ressas.
“So, you intended to decide the fate of the Tithers as well?”
“Is it not proper to execute the Tithers, who have for generations gone on Rampages and slaughtered innocent lives? The previous Duke of Brosius was also sentenced to death by Your Majesty for the very same reason.”
At the pointed reminder of the past, the King pressed his lips together. His hardened gaze briefly met Seiyad’s before twisting in discomfort.
Sensing the opportunity, Aster lifted his arms and addressed the room.
“All the Tithers are gathered here, are they not? Then let the Dukes speak. There is evidence scattered across the land proving that the House of Shildras awakened a Devil that should have remained sealed. Was it not your own men who discovered the hollow core in the forest? And just as my knights moved to retrieve this evidence, hordes of Nir’a swarmed the woods—at a perfectly suspicious time, as if sent to erase the truth. What’s more, when all was said and done, the ones left behind were the corpses of my knights, silenced and unable to testify. How do you explain the deaths of the knights who were with the Duke of Shildras?”
Aster’s forceful delivery swayed the room. The knights exchanged glances as if affirming his words, and Duke Bridehit bowed his head in quiet despair. Nova looked visibly unsettled. Stella and Cecilia wore expressions of disapproval.
“Are the Crown Prince’s claims true?”
The King posed the question to the Tithers.
Zion, who had remained silent with a sickly expression, finally stepped forward in his own defense.
“I never intended to harm Your Majesty’s knights. Perhaps their minds were corrupted by the rampaging Nir’a, but they suddenly turned on me. I tried my best to subdue them, but they lost all reason and charged like men possessed.
Your Majesty, I am a Tither. That means I am a descendant of the stars—one who cannot wield the residual taint of Devils like the Nir’a. Even if my father’s sins are true, the remaining members of the House of Shildras do not stand by his will!”
“Why would my knights attack you, Duke? A mere knight attacking a Tither is suicide. And if your father awakened a Devil, perhaps that same power now flows in your bloodline.”
The King fell into silence again, torn between the arguments. Though his mood had soured earlier, it was becoming clear that Aster’s silver tongue had begun to ensnare him.
To stop this, Seiyad stepped forward.
“Your Majesty, if the Duke of Shildras had truly sought to kill with the Devil’s power, he would have done so long ago. Tithers possess the power to accomplish their goals without any need for demonic strength.”
Stella’s eyes widened in surprise—it was rare for Seiyad to speak up in a setting like this.
Aster, however, was unfazed. On the contrary, he looked pleased.
“And now my own Tither has voiced what Your Majesty has always feared. Haven’t you long worried that their powers could disrupt Solias?”
The King’s face darkened—clearly, Aster had struck a nerve. His eyes turned uneasy as he fixed them on Seiyad.
“Grand Duke, do you understand how dangerous your words are?”
“What’s dangerous is the suggestion that Devils can control the Tithers. Your Majesty, throughout all of history, not once have the Tithers turned against the light of Solias. Every Tither here has sacrificed for the sake of duty. But if the Devil’s seed were to burrow into a Tither’s soul, would it not trample such noble intent and ultimately bring ruin to the kingdom?”
Aster’s ever-smiling mask cracked in that moment. Like a fracture across glass, a sliver of killing intent seeped through his carefully sculpted expression.
Then, as if on cue, Ressas broke his silence.
“Your Majesty, I fear my brother’s unchecked authority.”
A sorrowful voice, low and resonant, echoed through the chapel, drawing every gaze to him.
Even the King turned to look, and Ressas, catching his father’s eye, wore a face etched with deep, genuine concern.
“Your Majesty is, and always has been, the true sun of Solias. But seeing my brother unilaterally decide the Tithers’ fate… it frightens me. The Tithers are partners of Solias—its stars. If they are to be executed based on unverified speculation, they will vanish from the kingdom before long.”
The King’s gaze turned frigid.
He had fathered Aster at a relatively young age, and despite the Crown Prince’s mature age, the King had yet to relinquish the throne. It was because he remained far too vigorous, and his own lust for power too strong to give it up easily.
And what was more terrifying than ambition? Ressas had struck at its core.
Seiyad, who had only ever seen Ressas as obedient and agreeable, now saw someone who had grown—someone who knew how to push the King’s buttons with precision.
That innocent sincerity? It was something Ressas showed only to him.
“You speak freely, I see. Everything I’ve done is in service of Solias’s safety.”
Aster swiftly cut in, trying to regain control before Ressas could further sway the King.
Ressas smiled softly at his brother.
“Then wouldn’t it be wiser to keep the Tithers? Sooner or later, Solias will break free from the confines of the forest and stretch beyond the kingdom’s borders.”
With that, Ressas walked over to stand beside Seiyad.
Their eyes met—just a brush, but as always, Ressas’s gaze was warm.
They had only been apart for a short while, yet just his presence brought Seiyad a sense of peace. The soul that had been ripping apart finally began to mend. The hatred that had consumed him in Aster’s presence started to lift.
“As Your Majesty already knows, the southern forest is no longer a domain of the Nir’a. That is all thanks to the Grand Duke’s leadership and sacrifice. With the forest now nearly purified, surely this will be the year Your Majesty’s long-held dream finally comes to pass. And once that happens, what then?”
The King’s expression changed. Ressas had struck exactly where he needed to.
The King had always dreamed of cleansing the forest and expanding Solias. He longed for the seas beyond and the lands previously out of reach.
“Solias’s glory is ready to spread.”
As the King muttered those words, Ressas smiled brightly—meek and obedient, like a son admiring his father.
“Your Majesty speaks absolute truth. We’ll see soon enough what lies beyond. But we don’t yet know if there are any who possess powers like the Tithers outside the forest. That’s why I believe it’s to Solias’s benefit to keep as many Tithers as possible.”
“You are right!”
The King clapped his hands. His eyes shone with sudden clarity, as though he had been struck by divine insight.
Sweeping his gaze across the Tithers, he began counting them one by one—then burst into laughter.
It was genuine. Unfiltered joy.
