The situation wasn’t exactly dire, but when they first arrived, the atmosphere had been utterly bleak. All the Guides, who were bound by duty to remain near the capital, had been murdered. The Guide of Duke Bridehit was dead, and Lady Parma, the Guide of Selfini Vetria, had also lost her life. Only a handful of minor branch Guides, whose powers were weak, had managed to survive. Even the King and Queen had become trapped inside the palace.
The ones who killed the Guides were people who had lost their minds to the Devil. Knights, attendants—none were spared. They all suddenly lost consciousness and hurled themselves at the Devil. Among those who fell was Count Miriam. By the time Tiaki found her, she had already drawn her last breath. Kurthu read the surrounding memories and uncovered the culprits. Although, calling them culprits felt hollow—her own knights, entranced by the Devil, had committed the crime.
Thankfully, the Marquess of Saklani was still within the royal castle. Stella was trapped there with them, which meant they were safe from immediate danger. Since the Devil needed them alive as hostages, it hadn’t killed them.
Truth be told, Ressas didn’t feel a shred of sorrow even if those inside ended up dead. If Stella got hurt, Seiyad would grieve—but she was more than capable of escaping the palace alone. She wouldn’t die.
Everyone else inside meant nothing to Ressas. They all moved only for their own benefit, clinging to trivial things instead of protecting what truly mattered—foolish to the core. He might pity those who had devoted themselves in service, but if the Devil were to overturn the world anyway, they’d all be dead soon enough.
He knew—he knew such thoughts were twisted.
How could someone who felt no affection or meaning even toward their own mother and father possibly feel compassion for others? He thought even his own life was worthless and insignificant—how could someone else’s possibly matter? It was only because Seiyad cared about this world that he acted otherwise.
Looking back, it was almost laughable how someone so broken inside had pretended all this time—acting as if he valued life, as if he cared for those around him—right in front of Seiyad. The conviction that drove Ressas Raman Solias was, in truth, nothing more than a desperate effort to keep the memory of the one he loved. Yet he acted like it was his own mission.
He’d wrapped himself in all the things Seiyad once held dear, wearing them like armor, only because he wanted Seiyad to remember them. In reality, all he wanted was to tear apart the Devil encircling the palace and know that Seiyad was safe.
While these grim, unpleasant thoughts floated through his mind, the others carried on their conversation, brimming with hope. With the greatest concern now resolved, Seiyad had already begun drafting a plan. He divided those who would go into the palace and those who would remain outside. Tiaki volunteered first.
“I’ll go in. I can sneak in easily, anyway. Of course, Your Grace has to stay outside—you need to kill that giant serpent, after all.”
“That’s right. Seiyad-nim is what the Devil wants. You absolutely must not go anywhere near it.”
Seiyad fell silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. He looked so handsome while pondering, Ressas wanted to hide that face so only he could see it. Swallowing the greedy urge boiling up inside him, Ressas finally voiced what he had been thinking all along.
“Your Grace, Duke Bridehit, Miss Nova—stay outside and wait for the signal. Tiaki and I will infiltrate the palace, rendezvous with the Duke of Vetria, and evacuate the others.”
“Your Highness.”
The moment Ressas declared he would go, Seiyad snapped his head toward him and fixed him with a sharp gaze. Even with that chastising look, Ressas held firm. There was no other way.
“The moment the Devil senses anything, there’s a high chance those trying to flee the palace will turn on each other or commit suicide. I have to go to prevent that.”
“If we move as secretly as possible, it might not even realize what’s happening. And if I draw its attention outside, it won’t have the focus to monitor everything inside.”
“My brother is in the palace. There are eyes everywhere. His knights have taken it upon themselves to patrol the halls.”
Ressas’s pointed remark brought silence. Aster’s whereabouts were a difficult subject for everyone—none of them could quite bring themselves to equate the former Crown Prince with the Devil. Duke Bridehit, in particular, carried a deep guilt over the matter.
He had suspected the Devil’s identity for some time, and believed that if he had intervened with his close friend, Sirkhan Shildras, sooner, none of this would’ve happened. When they met in the West—when Seiyad had been away—Bridehit had found him in a deep slump over the Shildras affair.
And Ressas, too, carried a personal guilt when it came to Aster. He remembered the time when Aster had not yet turned cruel, when he was merely a victim of fate. Even as he tried to convince Seiyad that Aster had to be kept under watch, it always pained him.
A parasite—like a cuckoo chick pushing out the rightful heir from the nest—taking Aster’s place at Seiyad’s side. That was who he was.
Yes, Aster had chosen to isolate Seiyad, had acted with selfish cruelty. But Ressas also remembered a time when he hadn’t. He remembered when Aster had fulfilled his duties, even if he had never been kind or gentle. And because of those memories, Ressas often felt an unbearable dissonance whenever he thought of killing him.
He would wonder—perhaps the tragedy that befell his brother was his fault. Because he had secretly envied him. Because he had longed for his place.
Though he knew the Devil needed Aster in order to manipulate Seiyad more easily, Ressas always believed this catastrophe had sprouted from his own inadequacies—his own jealousy.
“Pointless thoughts.”
A voice whispered in his mind—the Sun, barging in again.
“What happened, happened. Nox may have lured their souls, yes, but in the end, the choice was theirs. If they truly wanted to resist, they would not have fallen—just as your Moon did not.”
It would’ve been nice to think like that. But Ressas had never known how to absolve himself of this lifelong guilt. Perhaps because, from the moment he was born, he had been the cause of his mother’s suffering—everything felt like his fault, no matter what he did.
“…What will you do about His Highness Aster, Your Grace?”
Duke Bridehit asked in a heavy voice. Everyone knew the answer, yet no one spoke. Seiyad’s expression turned grim as he opened his mouth—but before he could speak, a clear voice rang out from the end of the corridor.
“Unfortunately, we have to kill His Highness. Because the core of that thing is Prince Aster himself.”
Everyone simultaneously turned their eyes toward the end of the corridor, where Zion stood. He always traveled alone, uncomfortable and awkward in group settings—but even with a subdued demeanor, his expression betrayed a firm resolve. Nova cautiously watched Seiyad’s reaction before turning gently to Zion and asking,
“What’s the reason?”
Zion looked over each face one by one, eventually locking eyes with Ressas. The look in his eyes sought instinctively for the one he had felt closest to—but there was no tenderness, no longing. Only a quiet sense of guilt. The reason he had once cared for Ressas had been entirely because of Seiyad. Ressas wasn’t the good friend Zion had once believed, nor was he someone who genuinely cared about others the way Seiyad thought.
Ressas was an empty shell.
That truth, once again, tormented him.
When Ressas offered no sign of recognition or warmth, Zion finally turned to Seiyad. Seiyad’s gaze held the distinct discomfort and shame of someone feeling sorry, and it was he who broke the silence first.
“What are you hesitating for? You look like you’ve got something useful to say. Just say it. You’ve never had trouble speaking your mind to me before.”
Seiyad neither reproached nor rejected him. With an unchanged tone, he spoke curtly, and that very steadiness seemed to put Zion at ease. Eyes brimming with tears, Zion bit down on his lips, holding it in. Then, in a soft, boyish whisper more befitting someone his age, he confessed,
“…Over the summer, I searched the entire estate and everything related to my father. And I found his diary—he had written about the Devil. According to his notes, the Devil’s core is His Highness Aster himself. If we kill him, the Devil will be severely weakened.”
“Sirkhan, you foolish man…”
Duke Bridehit let out a heavy sigh. Ressas, too, was surprised to learn this, knowing little of what had happened between Zion and Sirkhan Shildras. In his first life, Zion had grown up spoiled, never hearing a single harsh word from his father. The fact that he had now taken it upon himself to reflect and try to be useful meant something had changed.
People are shaped by their environment—but fragments of their core always remain. Just as Seiyad had upheld his convictions even when cornered in solitude, Zion still carried traces of his original self.
“Did you bring the diary?”
Zion nodded, then nervously stepped forward. With stiff, hesitant movements, he handed the old journal to Seiyad. Seiyad accepted it with a brief nod, then began flipping through the pages with his long fingers, paper whispering as he turned them. He sank into thought.
“I see. That would explain it. Come to think of it, none of us Tithers can attack someone of the royal line, due to them being Guides. If one of us tried to kill His Highness, we’d likely die alongside him. And because he’s surrounded by his knights, using an assassin wouldn’t be easy either. Ordinary people would lose their minds just by approaching him…”
Which meant, in the end, Ressas had to be the one to go inside. Seiyad seemed to realize this, his expression hardening. Ressas, however, responded calmly.
“I’ll take care of my brother. It seems that’s the only option left.”
“I’m not a full-fledged Tither—shouldn’t I be able to handle it?” Tiaki spoke up, raising his hand, clearly uneasy about risking a royal. But Ressas shook his head.
“The power’s source is the Moon and the Star, after all. It wouldn’t work. From the beginning, it had to be me.”
“But Your Highness is now Solias’s only future. With Their Majesties already in danger, the only person bearing Solias’s name now is you…”
Everyone seemed to silently agree with Duke Bridehit’s statement. The idea of deceiving people who weren’t even worthy of their positions made Ressas feel sick. He clenched his mouth shut to swallow the rising bile—only for Seiyad to step forward unexpectedly.
“If Your Highness truly wishes to go, I won’t stop you.”
The calm, low voice steadied Ressas. He hadn’t shown a single sign, yet Seiyad seemed to sense his unease. Gently, Seiyad placed a hand on his shoulder. His large palm rubbed soothing circles over the bone.
“But promise me one thing—don’t push yourself too far.”
That gentle murmur, as if to say everything would be fine, quieted the storm inside him. His Moon was always like this—tender. Every time Ressas stood alone on the verge of drowning in a swamp, he’d been the one to pull him out.
“Yes. I promise.”
Ressas answered him with sincerity. Dying didn’t scare him. What terrified him was not being able to see Seiyad again. And so, he wanted to do everything he could to honor his words. Perhaps sensing that sincerity, Seiyad lifted one corner of his mouth ever so slightly. That cool, fleeting smile brushed past like a gentle night breeze.
And in that moment, Ressas understood the reason he was still alive.
He had dragged along this pitiful, miserable life for one reason only—to someday give Seiyad a reason to smile.
That cannot be in any way shape or form healthy… but he needs it.
He’s being too hard on himself.