Ressas’s gaze finally shifted away from him and turned toward the outside. Seiyad took the chance to straighten his posture and stepped forward to open the tent flap—though his hair was still disheveled, and his shirt hung untucked.
As soon as the flap lifted, he saw Vine standing just outside, unusually polite in his stance. Next to him stood Rigda, wearing the same deferential expression, and behind them were a few familiar faces, including the knight named Mona.
They had been standing guard together at the front. But the moment Seiyad stepped out first, they visibly flinched, their gazes dropping sharply to the ground. Like people caught peeking, their embarrassed faces left Seiyad at a temporary loss for words. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, yet for some reason, he found himself especially flustered today. Even he couldn’t quite understand why.
“W-We sincerely apologize! We never meant to interrupt such an important moment between the two of you! We weren’t eavesdropping! We just… at the end, we only heard… some kind of sound…!”
Vine bowed at the waist like he’d committed a mortal sin, his voice high and strained. Perhaps it was because Seiyad had never seen him act this formally before, but the whole thing felt absurd. Roughly pushing back his fallen hair, Seiyad corrected him flatly.
“It was just purification. No need to cause a commotion over something like that. More importantly, where did you escort the Duke?”
Vine looked dazed at the mention of purification. He stood frozen under the flickering torchlight, clearly thrown off, so Rigda quickly stepped in.
“He went to House Shildras. His Highness the Crown Prince and the others, including the Tithers, will be staying there tonight to tend to the wounded and reorganize.”
While Rigda swiftly laid out the situation, Ressas emerged from the tent. Brushing past the bowing knights, he went straight to Seiyad and draped a dark coat over his shoulders. Then, standing in front of him, he gently brushed back the locks of hair that had fallen over his forehead.
“Your Grace, you stepped out before I could tidy you up properly. You might catch a cold like this.”
With Ressas blocking his view, Seiyad could no longer see the knights’ faces—but what irked him was the overly familiar tone in Ressas’s voice.
“I have no desire to waste His Highness’s time unnecessarily.”
Seiyad quickly stepped back, putting distance between them again. From the moment he regained consciousness, everything had been moving too fast for reason to get a word in. Growing closer to Ressas would only complicate things.
Outwardly, he still had to appear aligned with Aster. And if Aster himself was to believe that, Seiyad needed to tread more carefully. He hadn’t anticipated Ressas to follow him this deep into the forest.
Then again, Ressas had always been in the forest.
Even on the day Seiyad died, Ressas had been there, fighting alongside the other Tithers. Seiyad had always watched him from afar, thinking of Aster waiting at the forest’s edge. As the guide’s safety ensured the Tither’s, it would have been only proper for royalty to remain outside—yet Ressas had always charged into the forest without hesitation.
Seiyad used to think that was foolish and reckless. A guide barging into danger just to protect his Tither—he’d always viewed it with disdain. But now that Ressas had come into the forest for him, his heart…
“I’ll head to House Shildras first. Your Highness should come later with the knights.”
Seiyad cut off the thought. He felt he shouldn’t pursue it any further. To push away Ressas’s hand, still smoothing his hair, he turned his head sharply.
His voice was cold, almost like he was denying everything they’d just shared. As if to reject the heat that had bound them so tightly just moments ago. And at that tone, the glow on Ressas’s face began to fade. Like dried petals crumbling into dust, his smile fell apart. The light in his eyes, once so bright, slowly dimmed as he lowered his hand.
“It’s dark out. It would be safer to go together, Your Grace. Your condition isn’t well, either.”
“His Highness the Crown Prince is waiting. I wouldn’t want to keep him.”
Seiyad subtly used Aster’s name as an excuse to refuse. Considering the contract they shared, going back to the capital together would not be ideal.
In truth, he was surprised Aster had left him here in the first place. Given the twisted resentment Aster had shown before, Seiyad had assumed he wouldn’t allow Ressas to perform purification on him.
Had he grown tired of him again?
A bitter scoff escaped Seiyad’s lips. Compared to the other Tithers who came out of the battle unscathed, he’d been the only one injured and unconscious. Maybe Aster now saw him as useless. Just like that time when Aster had handed over the authority to execute him to Ressas without even trying to calm his rampage—perhaps that had been the reason too.
A Tither only worth keeping around because of his power. That must be what the Grand Duke of Axid meant to them. That’s how they all saw him…
“Then.”
Just as that darkness began to settle in his heart, Ressas offered a compromise.
“I’ll follow behind so the road ahead doesn’t stay dark for you, Your Grace. Please accept this as the bare minimum kindness for a Tither who was wounded defending the nation.”
Seiyad fell silent. He couldn’t think of a decent excuse to turn that down. As he stayed quiet, Ressas quickly issued orders.
“The rest of you stay here and continue guarding the forest with the other knights. I’ll take about four with me. We’re departing now.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Vine responded promptly, and Rigda moved to carry out the command. The knights scattered, bustling into motion, and Seiyad passed through them without another word to Ressas. He could feel the man’s gaze following him, but he deliberately ignored it.
Seiyad realized he was becoming frighteningly accustomed to Ressas’s presence. Whenever he came to his senses, Ressas was there at his side again. Even when he pushed him away, a new reason to return would emerge. And now, today… he’d crossed a line he hadn’t even with Aster.
His relationship with Ressas was now completely out of his control. He couldn’t afford to loosen the reins any further.
Though he had called it purification, Seiyad knew full well that what had happened inside the tent was unlike him. As he mulled over why he had gotten swept up in it to such a degree, he eventually came to a conclusion—it was because of Ressas’s actions.
No one had ever desired Seiyad with such desperate longing or looked upon his wounds with such visible sorrow. He was someone people feared, not someone who should ever hear bizarre words like “pretty” or “cute.”
Having never experienced anything like it before, he simply didn’t know how to handle it. That was all. He just needed to get back on track.
Seiyad had never once thought that this second chance at life had been given to him for the sake of happiness. He was still a sinner who had slaughtered countless people. He didn’t even deserve to indulge in such petty emotions—there was work to be done. He had to avenge his mother and put an end to his rampages.
And the foundation for all of that had always been his death. To kill something, a Tither had to consider his own death inevitable. Otherwise, he could never overcome fear. Only those with something to lose were afraid.
That was the life he lived. So letting Ressas draw closer to him would do neither of them any good. The deeper the bond between a Guide and a Tither, the harder it became to face Nir’a. That was the very reason the kingdom strictly forbade marriage between Guides and Tithers.
Emotion ruins everything. Just look at what had happened in the forest earlier that day. Even Ressas’s excessive concern inside the tent had stemmed from the same problem. A Tither’s body was meant to be wounded and driven, not coddled or protected. You couldn’t kill Nir’a by treasuring your body.
No one should care for him. And he shouldn’t care for anyone either.
As he rode through the forest, Seiyad glanced back at the flickering torchlight behind him. The light, faintly illuminating his path, he forced himself not to look at it again as he gripped the reins tightly.
***
House Shildras was built in the classical southern style—lavish and graceful. Unlike the pitch-black, formidable Axid castle of the north, its walls were made of the south’s characteristic white stone, etched with colorful decorations. This was only the second time Seiyad had set foot inside House Shildras since childhood. When had that first visit been?
Ah. It had probably been to celebrate Zion Shildras’ birthday.
It was too far in the past for him to remember clearly, but it had been Zion’s eighth birthday celebration. The former Duke was famously indulgent with his son, so the event had been extravagant. Seiyad’s mother, who usually never attended such gatherings, had brought him along under the pretense of making a brief appearance.
The former Duke’s face came to him in a hazy memory. He had been gazing down at Zion Shildras with a face full of unending affection. Seiyad still remembered the moment during the banquet when the Duke declared that Zion could have anything he wanted. It had struck him back then—such a stark contrast to his own mother, who often told him, “You can’t have everything.” She had raised him strictly…
But then, if he had such a beloved son, why had the former Duke wished for the world to end?
As that long-held question resurfaced, Seiyad stepped into the estate. Perhaps because of the earlier events, the knights of House Shildras recognized him at once and led him directly inside. Unlike their hostile behavior earlier in the day, when they had nearly drawn swords on him, they now treated him with unexplainable courtesy. There wasn’t even a trace of animosity.
“Oh, Grand Duke Axid!”
He was heading toward the conference hall where the Tithers were gathered when a familiar voice called out from behind him. The tone and presence were unmistakable—it was Duke Bridehit.
Seiyad stopped and turned around. The Duke approached him with a face brimming with joy. Before Seiyad could even stop him, Bridehit stretched out his arms and pulled him into a hug.
“I heard what happened earlier today. You saved my foolish daughter and the others, didn’t you? I’m truly grateful.”
As he spoke, the Duke gave Seiyad’s back a few hearty pats. Though the gesture was casual, the sheer strength of a Tither made it jarring—his injuries throbbed sharply from the contact. Seiyad grimaced but swallowed the sound, only for Bridehit to laugh and step back, seemingly misinterpreting his expression.
“I heard you were injured, but you look better than I expected. Did the purification go well?”
“I’m fine. But why were you late?”
Seiyad cut straight to the point, and the Duke gave a sheepish grin.
“Just as winter ended, there was something I needed to investigate, so I was delayed. I couldn’t stop thinking about the last Ritual of Invocation. And when I heard about today’s incident with Nir’a, it made me wonder if what I was researching might actually be true!”
Seiyad narrowed his eyes.
“And what would that be?”
“As you know, everything that’s been happening since the last great freeze—none of it has ever occurred in recorded history. And yet… I kept feeling this strange sense of déjà vu. Then it came to me. When I was a child, I once heard of a phenomenon like this.”
A chill ran down his spine. Even Seiyad himself had been unable to fully grasp the nature of these bizarre events. He never imagined that a clue might come from none other than Duke Bridehit. After all, during this period in the past, the man had already been long dead.
“Tell me everything.”
At the shift in Seiyad’s tone, the smile faded from Bridehit’s face as well. He glanced around cautiously, then leaned in close to Seiyad’s ear and whispered.
“Everything is connected to the founding of Solias. The same things happened back when the Devil tried to swallow the sun.”
