It was a blindingly white day. The stench of burning corpses clung to the ash-laden wind. The air, heavy with grief, was pierced by wails and the silence of mourning. Ressas stepped through snow stained with blood, heading toward the most secluded corner of the castle walls.
The massive serpent’s body coiled around the entire fortress, its length unbroken, visible no matter where one turned.
Asella had called it “Nox.” She theorized it was a remnant of something that had ruled the vast sky before the sun rose and day ever came to exist. But Ressas had never wished to give it a name. To name it was to grant it meaning.
The serpent’s body was like the night sky itself. The semi-translucent darkness, devoid of even the faintest light, deepened into pitch black the farther one gazed, its depth immeasurable. Zion, following behind, whispered in the air at the mere sight of that terrifying mass.
“Do you think we can really kill something this terrifying?”
“Yes. You’ve already fought against things far greater. You’re more than capable.”
“Your Highness is just as brave as my brother. I want to be like that too.”
“But I’m not as great as Eid.”
“The fact that you came here willingly makes you great. I think I understand now why my brother cherishes you so much!”
Just as Seiyad had said, Zion, though the same age, still had traces of a boy in him. A kind and righteous young man whose mere presence brought light. It was easy to see why Seiyad loved him.
They found the hidden hole left behind by the knights from before and entered the castle. But there, indoctrinated knights had already formed a blockade. Counting quickly, there were over thirty of them. Ressas swallowed his tension and gripped the hilt of his sword.
Blackened eyes turned to him in unison.
Srrrng—the sharp sound of drawn blades ripped through the air.
‘Good thing it’s me who came.’
As Ressas cut down the knights rushing to kill him, that thought lingered. If it had been Seiyad instead, he would’ve been tormented, suffering with every innocent life he was forced to take. But Ressas… he didn’t flinch at killing people.
He was simply born that way. Perhaps it was because he had no particular attachment to his own life. His existence served only one purpose.
Thanks to Zion’s support, they managed to clear the path and break deeper into the castle. There was no time to rest—they had to retrieve the sword before their stamina gave out. Even for Ressas, who was numb to slaughter, what came next was hell itself.
Terrified servants, just doing their duties, lost their minds the moment they saw them. Everyone they encountered had to be killed.
Ressas, who hadn’t grown up in the castle, had to find where the King and Queen were staying entirely on his own. Though born of royalty, he didn’t even know his own parents’ residence—this delay cost him precious time. Meanwhile, Zion began to show signs of fatigue.
Ressas knew that using his power while already suffering from side effects would cause Zion intense pain—but it wasn’t just that. The real weight came from the killing.
Every time Ressas glanced at him, he saw the sorrow and fear flooding the youthful face. Tears welled up in those brown eyes, and guilt surged through Ressas. He didn’t want to see someone Seiyad loved in such anguish.
But at last, they reached the central hall where the King guarded the sword.
The hall stood atop the highest point, guarded by the royal elite. Or rather, trapped—more isolated than defended. Knights who had once been the King’s loyal arms and legs now blocked his path, their eyes blackened, preventing the King from escaping.
The moment Ressas appeared before them, soaked in blood, their gazes all snapped to him.
“I’ll handle them, Zion. You go inside, take the sword, and get out.”
Ressas knew instinctively—this was where his journey ended. The King’s royal guard, each one formidable, might be manageable alone. But together? Even he wouldn’t stand a chance.
Zion, pale, voice trembling, replied.
“There’s too many! You can’t take them all on by yourself—”
“We’re both exhausted. But only your power can ensure the sword makes it out. I’ll be fine.”
“But—!”
“Go. Now. If you don’t, Eid and everyone you love will be hurt. That Devil outside must be killed.”
His tone was ice. A command.
Zion, suffocating under guilt, locked eyes with Ressas, then muttered a trembling apology before vanishing.
“I’m sorry.”
True to his nature as a Tither, Zion wasted no more time. No hesitation. Exactly as Ressas had hoped.
The moment Zion’s figure disappeared into the light, the knights surged.
With no hesitation, their blades came for him, each one cleanly aimed at vital points.
Dodging every attack from all directions was beyond human ability. Ressas wasn’t a Tither or a Guide. His wounds multiplied.
His back, shoulder, arm, thigh—each part split open, revealing raw flesh beneath the torn skin.
Barely avoiding lethal spots, Ressas cut down knight after knight. His own blood and sweat poured over his face, stinging his eyes. He forced them open, swinging his blade through the blur.
His ragged breaths, thick with the taste of iron, came out in gasps.
‘I can do this. I have to stay alive until Zion gets out with the sword. Eid’s life depends on it.’
At some point, all sound vanished.
Maybe his eardrums had burst—only a ringing buzz filled his head.
He moved on sheer will.
Slash. Cut. Pierce. The pile of corpses grew.
And still, they didn’t stop.
The endless assault, as if determined to kill him even if it meant destroying everyone within the castle, stirred something unfamiliar in Ressas—fear.
Not fear for his own life—fear that he might fail. That he might disappoint Eid.
Then, it happened.
A tremendous quake, like the heavens and earth collapsing.
BOOM—KRKSSHH!
The sound of something breaking thundered down. The corridor shook.
Ressas and the knights staggered, losing their footing.
The left side of the corridor caved in, revealing the outside of the castle.
White stones crashed down in chaos, crushing the knights attacking Ressas.
His dazed mind jolted back to clarity at the sudden, inexplicable turn.
“Kyaaaaah!”
“Agh!”
“Everyone get back! The wall is collapsing!”
Beyond the shattered corridor, screams rose from below the castle. Somewhere in that chaos, Seiyad’s voice seemed to call out.
As if responding to a master’s summons, Ressas turned instinctively toward the sound, trying to scan the outside. But before he could, a massive, pitch-black form began to climb the collapsed section of the castle.
A colossal serpent, large enough to swallow dozens at once, brought darkness wherever it passed.
It was moving now.
Until then, it had only blocked the castle, never launching a direct attack—
Just as dread crept into his thoughts, the doors to the hall burst open. A corpse was flung through, smashing the entrance apart. Through the wreckage, the King and Queen emerged in a frantic dash.
“Leana, run!”
The woman who rushed out was cradling a small boy who couldn’t have been older than four.
The moment Ressas saw the dark-haired woman with terror written all over her face, he knew—she was his mother.
Violet eyes, black hair—identical to his own.
He had thought he wouldn’t recognize her, having never seen her properly since he’d been abandoned at birth. But he knew.
The Queen’s once-beautiful green dress was stained and torn with blood. The knights within must have all been killed by Zion, for none followed them out.
Through the open door, Zion could be seen standing face-to-face with the serpent.
The young man held the white sword behind his back, alone in his stand against the monster.
The serpent lunged with gaping jaws, and in that instant, brilliant light exploded from the hall.
A wave of scorching heat surged forward, propelling the King and Queen outward.
Knights still in the corridor chased after the fleeing royals.
Forcing his broken body to move, Ressas stumbled toward them.
His father, whom he had occasionally seen in the North, recognized him.
“Ressas, protect us!”
At the King’s call, the Queen flinched, turning to look at him.
Before she could speak, a knight lunged at them. Ressas intercepted him, offering up his own shoulder to take the blow before slicing the attacker’s throat.
He didn’t even have the strength left to gasp. Choking on his own breath, he barely kept his balance.
If it were only the knights, they might have stood a chance.
But climbing the broken wall came Nir’a.
“Go. I’ll hold them here.”
“We can’t survive without you!”
The Queen clung to him, her voice breaking into a scream.
It was the first time he had ever exchanged words with his mother—the second time he’d ever seen her in his life. Ressas blinked, staring down at her.
Leana, clutching the trembling child tighter in her arms, pulled at him.
“Hurry and lead us. Save your brother! If even one Guide survives, the kingdom might endure!”
As they argued, a thunderous boom echoed from inside.
A scream rang out, choked in agony.
They all turned to the hall.
Zion was on his knees.
Blood splattered the floor as he hacked up more, and the moment Ressas saw it, he ran.
He rushed to help—only for more knights to block his path.
What unfolded beyond them etched itself painfully into his mind.
Zion, coughing blood, clutched the sacred sword as several knights charged at him.
He couldn’t move.
He had reached his limit.
For a brief second, their eyes met.
Zion’s brown eyes, pleading, locked onto him—And then, death swallowed him.
The knights’ blades pierced his body through.
Even then, Zion curled around the sacred relic, shielding it with the last of his strength.
Ressas screamed something in that moment, but louder than his voice came another cry—
“Zion, NO—!”
The voice of the Duke of Shildras tore through the air.
A blinding light exploded outward in all directions.
The heads of the knights blocking Ressas burst open.
Drenched in blood, Ressas collapsed.
A boot brushed past his head—Duke Shildras.
The blast had reached even him.
“No… my son, my baby…! Please… your father is here now…!”
Beyond his tilted, spinning vision, Sirkhan Shildras wept.
