“Tithers and Guides have always existed in symbiosis. Their deeds are none other than the Kingdom of Solias’s own glory, are they not? I had been blind to that. Even before the monumental feat of purifying the forest, I failed to see clearly. Ressas, you were right.”
The King’s eyes now held the Tithers with reverence, like one would behold a sacred treasure, erasing any trace of his former wariness toward them. In that moment, Seiyad felt a flicker of kinship toward the Tithers he had never considered comrades before. It struck him then—what it truly meant to be a tool, swayed by the monarch’s whims.
Falling under the spell of Ressas’s words, the King raised a hand to silence Aster, who was about to speak in protest. Then, turning to the gathered nobles, he declared,
“The crimes of House Shildras are grave offenses that threaten the realm’s safety. They cannot go unpunished. I hereby revoke Shildras’ authority to command the Tithers. Furthermore, following the precedent set by the former duke’s treason, I strip them of their ducal rank. The status they will retain shall be decided after counsel with the lords. A portion of Shildras territory shall also revert to the Crown according to the reduced title.”
Zion’s face turned pale. Swallowing his anguish, he lowered his head, fists clenched in silence. But the King’s judgment was absolute—and Shildras’ crimes, unforgivable.
In that moment, Seiyad realized the reason he had retained his title despite his mother being charged with treason might have been due to Zion or Ressas.
‘The former Duke of Shildras drove my mother to ruin—yet still spared our house at his son’s request…?’
He had never wanted to dig into the duke’s motives, but now those buried thoughts rose to the surface, unsettling him. He had once believed the Shildras family wasn’t even worth looking at—let alone understanding. Yet after hearing Zion’s words earlier, he began to sense that to uncover the truth, he needed to learn more about them. Even a figure he had long deemed worthy only of hatred now demanded comprehension.
“However, Zion Shildras must still fulfill his duties as a Tither, so his life shall be spared. You will repay your father’s sins in full—through service to this kingdom.”
Zion, still bowing, took a moment before offering a deep, reverent bow of gratitude. His hoarse voice betrayed the depth of his humiliation.
“Thank you for Your Majesty’s mercy.”
The King gave a low chuckle and then turned his gaze to Seiyad. Though hesitation flickered across his face for a moment, it soon melted into a pleasant smile as he stepped toward him. A soft, uncalloused hand—one unfamiliar with the grip of a sword—tapped Seiyad lightly on the shoulder.
“Your feats have echoed throughout the realm, impossible for me to ignore. And only now do I realize—what befell the former Duke Axid was a tragedy caused by my own misguided judgment. To think I nearly lost a grand duke of such exceptional ability because of Sirkhan Shildras’ venomous tongue… It chills me to the bone. Though no apology can make amends for what happened…”
In a solemn tone, the King offered terms of appeasement.
“I shall return to you the rights and authority that belonged to the North from the very beginning. The wealth that was lost due to that shameful stigma shall be restored to the treasury of Castle Axid. And so long as it does not threaten the safety of the realm—I will grant one wish of yours, whatever it may be. I swear it in the name of Solias.”
Seiyad stood still, listening. But the King’s words, echoing in his ears, felt surreal—detached, like distant tales from another world. The sounds were muffled, the King’s moving lips slow and distorted.
Something was wrong.
After his mother’s execution, and his father’s self-sacrificial abandonment, Seiyad had lived believing that once he cleared his mother’s name and reclaimed their honor, everything would fall into place. He had devoted his entire life to that end, doing whatever was asked of him—even by Aster.
He thought that when the truth finally came to light, he would feel joy.
But it wasn’t as satisfying as he had imagined.
For all that obsession and desperation, the elation now barely stirred him.
Instead of joy, what truly moved his heart were the moments when Cecilia returned to him… When Quilly smiled, worried for his safety… When he looked upon Zion and Bridehit as they apologized to him. And more than all those—he felt genuine happiness during the simple times spent with Ressas. More so than being recognized by the King or applauded by the world.
‘If peace was this close all along, maybe I only needed to reach out…’
The sudden realization crushed Seiyad with regret. He grieved the people he had pushed away in pursuit of restoring his mother’s honor. The pain of growing so distant from Ressas—who had never truly hated him—gnawed at him.
‘Is this what it means to be a puppet of the Devil? If not, then how else could this be explained?’
Seiyad gave no answer to the King. Instead, he slowly turned his head and glared at Aster. He could feel it deep in his bones—that it had been Aster, who approached him at his lowest and shone like the sun, who had been pulling the strings from behind all along.
The King noticed this too and turned his gaze, puzzled, glancing between Aster and Seiyad. Then, in a low voice, Seiyad asked,
“You said you would grant me a wish.”
“Indeed.”
“Then I ask that you grant it now.”
Surprised by how quickly Seiyad had made up his mind, the King blinked, then nodded.
“Speak, Grand Duke. I shall grant anything.”
Seiyad kept his eyes fixed on Aster—watching intently to see how he would react to the wish about to be spoken.
“I wish for the ownership of the Holy Death to be transferred, Your Majesty. A being has appeared who surpasses any current Guide in existence.”
The chapel erupted with whispers at the unexpected declaration. The knights in the Armor of the Blue Moon behind Ressas drew in a collective gasp; Adena flinched, as though ready to object. Even the Tithers themselves were stunned. But of all the reactions, Aster’s was the most worth seeing.
The eyes that had been fixed on Ressas slowly shifted to Seiyad. Narrowed blue pupils locked onto him as if unable to comprehend what they were seeing. Shock etched itself across Aster’s pale face. Seiyad tried to discern whether that expression was real—or just an act—but soon realized it didn’t matter. Simply witnessing that face brought a sense of satisfaction.
“…Grand Duke, that is…”
The King looked to Seiyad with a troubled expression. He didn’t immediately reject the idea, suggesting it hadn’t been entirely unthinkable to him. But it was evident that he hesitated, uncertain whether such a weighty matter could be decided here and now. Seiyad, however, pressed firmly.
“If it doesn’t endanger the kingdom’s safety, what reason is there to hesitate? His Highness Ressas has demonstrated formidable power throughout this journey. Not only that—he entered the forest on behalf of the Tithers, and surely you’ve heard Nir’a couldn’t even harm him.”
“Seiyad!”
For the first time, Aster raised his voice. The King flinched, startled by the rare show of fury. The sound chilled everyone who heard it. Yet Seiyad ignored Aster entirely, driving his point to the King with unwavering resolve.
“It was a vow made in the name of Solias. This is the only wish I ask. I implore you to consider it with sincerity.”
His words left no room for negotiation. As Seiyad finished, Aster stepped in abruptly and grabbed him by the arm. Seiyad turned away, disregarding the rough grip, and Aster, in desperation, turned to the King.
“Father, you can’t do this to me! You would trade the crown prince’s position over a mere promise? You know full well the backlash this will provoke. And that’s not all! If you care at all about Mother’s final words, even considering this would be an insult to her memory!”
The King’s indecision—so plainly written on his face—abruptly hardened. His features twisted with fury as he glared at Aster, raising his voice in turn.
“Insolence!”
He erupted like one who had just been struck in their most vulnerable place, not even allowing Aster a chance to respond. His face turned crimson with rage.
“You fail to understand—I let you remain crown prince despite Ressas’s overwhelming strength, only out of respect for your mother’s memory! And yet here you are, already acting like you wear the crown—shouting at me as if you’re already king! I fear for the day I hand you the throne. My life would hang like a candle in the wind!”
Veins bulged on the King’s neck as he bellowed. Then he glanced briefly at Seiyad before letting out a long, exhausted breath and turning his back.
“This is not a decision I can make unilaterally. However… yes. For now, that seat shall remain vacant. Aster, return to the palace at once with the Holy Death. Ressas, come with me to the capital.”
Without sparing Aster so much as a glance, the King gestured to his knights, signaling that his business was done. The Light of the Sun moved quickly to escort him, and though hesitant, the Armor of the Blue Moon followed suit.
Just before leaving, Ressas turned to Seiyad with deep concern in his eyes. Seiyad, equally reluctant to part without words, tried to approach him—but Aster seized him tightly. The grip was inhuman, unlike anything Aster had shown before. A shiver ran down Seiyad’s spine as he instinctively recoiled.
“How could you do this?” Aster’s voice trembled with rage. “After everything I’ve done for you… I honored my promise. And now—for the sake of a worm who gave you nothing—you cast me aside again?”
A strange light gleamed in Aster’s eyes. White with fury and betrayal, they locked obsessively onto Seiyad.
“Your Highness knows that answer better than anyone.”
The voice was icy, but Seiyad showed no fear. At his calm reply, Aster blinked—then slowly reacted in a way no one expected. His crimson lips curled into a chilling smile.
“Ha… hahaha!”
His laughter rang out, echoing through the air. At once, Ressas rushed over and grabbed Aster’s wrist—the one clutching Seiyad’s arm. But Aster’s grip, like claws, refused to loosen.
“Brother, isn’t it time to go?”
“Yes, of course. Time to go,” Aster said, still laughing. Looking down at his own hand wrapped around Seiyad’s arm—and the hand of Ressas trying to stop him—his gaze darkened to pure black.
“Fine.”
And just like that, the suffocating grip vanished. Aster let go and stepped back, as if he had never been angry at all. Ressas immediately stepped between them, shielding Seiyad. Aster looked at the two of them—his voice disturbingly light, almost cheerful.
“I did my best, Eid. I truly tried to resolve things peacefully—for your sake. I chose the longer, more troublesome path just to make sure you wouldn’t be sad. That’s the only thing I ask you to remember.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seiyad said lowly, an uneasy feeling curling in his chest.
Aster laughed again, his shoulders shaking, then exhaled deeply.
“I’ll allow you your little moment. After all, there’s nothing sweeter than the despair that comes at the height of joy.”
Aster straightened, smoothing out his robes. Gone was any trace of the emotional outburst—he passed them as though nothing had happened. Then, as if suddenly reminded of something, he glanced sidelong at Ressas and chuckled.
“So that’s where you were hiding—in the shell of a dead star. Crawling like a worm, and yet you managed to deceive even me. Well done.”
With that cryptic remark, Aster walked gracefully out of the chapel like someone who had finished their task. His remaining guards followed, and soon only the three of them were left behind.
Ressas stood silently for a moment, then turned his weary gaze to Seiyad.
Their eyes met. Ressas’s soft violet eyes held him gently, like cradling something precious. Though everything had turned in his favor, he didn’t look pleased. On the contrary, he seemed frightened—deeply so. His lips trembled before he finally whispered,
“Until we meet again, stay safe. Surround yourself with the things you love. Be with the people who matter to you. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. That’s what I exist for.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
A creeping unease in his chest prompted Seiyad to ask, but Ressas only smiled. It was a gentle smile—so soft it nearly masked the sadness beneath. He reached out as if wanting to touch Seiyad, but his hand halted midair, then withdrew. Though they had just reunited, he stepped away without ever making contact. Seiyad moved instinctively to stop him, but Ressas was faster.
“Until the next subjugation, please return to your respective territories and rest. Couriers will be dispatched shortly. May the moon’s blessing be with you.”
With that, Ressas offered a farewell that felt oddly unlike any traditional Solias farewell—subtly different, almost foreign. Then he turned on his heel. He didn’t look back as he left, walking swiftly as though time were pressing in on him.
Seiyad’s hand reached out without thinking, grasping at empty air as Ressas slipped away beyond the chapel doors.
With the royals gone, the chapel finally stirred into noise. Voices murmured, footsteps shuffled, movement returned. Yet Seiyad stood frozen, unable to respond even as Cecilia hurried to his side and called to him. His gaze remained locked on the closed door.
Just when he thought he had begun to understand Ressas—just a little—an inexplicable dread began to coil around him. Watching that door, a vision flashed through Seiyad’s mind—the hallucination he had seen before death.
Countless corpses piled high.
A serpent devouring Ressas whole.
The thick stench of blood, choking the air.
The gruesome image refused to leave him.
It felt like more than a dream… As if he had just witnessed the future.
