What Ressas had said might’ve sounded like nothing more than a baseless rumor at first glance—but to Seiyad in this moment, it landed very differently.
As he listened to the unexpected story of the previous queen, a memory surfaced—Ressas had mentioned something about Purification in the palace not long ago.
“If it wasn’t properly inherited, that power could—assuming the form of the Sun—somehow harm Tither. But that’s only a supposition.”
It hadn’t even been that long ago. That was also around the same time Seiyad had begun sensing an uncanny familiarity from Ressas. Which meant that when Ressas said those words, he had known exactly what he was talking about.
‘A successor who borrowed the form of the Sun… and a queen who bore a child by wishing upon the Devil…’
When those two sentences came together, their meaning crystallized. The queen had given birth to a child tied to the Devil’s power in the Shildras territory, and from that point on, the Devil began to toy with the kingdom.
Then, what happened to his mother had surely been the Devil’s doing as well. And with that realization, things began to align. The former Duke of Shildras had extensive knowledge of the Devil. The queen had deliberately chosen to give birth in Shildras territory. If Ressas’ words were true, then the queen was without a doubt connected to the previous Duke of Shildras.
To uncover more details, he needed to meet Bridehit. Seiyad was struck by how deeply he now felt the weight of that man’s loss in his past life. The out-of-control Vetria, and Bridehit who died because of her—Aster had been present in every one of those incidents.
This gave his suspicions a sharper edge. Aster was either working with the Devil—or was a Devil in the guise of a guide.
A chill ran down his spine. Urgency, thirst, and rage left a bitter taste in his mouth. Seiyad wanted to grab Ressas and interrogate him right then and there, but he held back. Instead, he simply stared at him with a gaze filled with mingled suspicion and doubt. Ressas gave an awkward smile, his eyebrows twitching as if uncomfortable.
Seiyad hardened his expression, wary that the pitiful look on Ressas’ face might stir some unwanted sympathy. Perhaps sensing the strange tension in the air, Vine stepped in with his usual banter.
“Hik—why all this talk of doom and gloom? My lord, you’re much too young for these kinds of conversations!”
“Honestly, sometimes you’re way too mature for your age. Back when you first took us in, you still had the air of a boy.”
Rigda chimed in cautiously, agreeing with Vine. Watching them act so concerned reminded Seiyad that Ressas had gathered a group of genuinely decent people. He tried to recall whether they’d been around in the past, but truthfully, Seiyad had barely known who was in Ressas’ circle back then.
The only reason he remembered Anka was because Ressas had wept so bitterly after losing him. Everyone else he’d gotten to know had been people Aster sent to spy on Ressas—like Desertus and his ilk.
Their clashes had been brutal. Aster had done everything in his power to crush Ressas. He never gave Seiyad direct orders, but from what he remembered now, Aster had sent a multitude of assassins after him.
Thinking back to those days brought memories of his past with Ressas to the surface. And with those came revelations—things he hadn’t noticed even six months ago. Like how Aster had persistently tried to kill Ressas, and how he had made sure to keep Seiyad and Ressas apart at all costs.
The Seiyad of the past had known nothing. He’d written off Aster’s actions as twisted competition between rivals. But looking back now, with clarity, he could see the truth: when someone wants another dead that badly, it usually means that person holds some critical weakness over them.
Looking at Ressas now, that suspicion solidified into near certainty.
“Of course, nothing bad will happen. As long as Tither is in the North, even if the Devil appears, he’ll protect you all.”
Hearing Rigda’s concerns, Ressas responded instead with comforting words. His voice was calm, but laced with conviction. Rigda brightened at once, nodding vigorously.
“Right! They say the North has always had Tither, strong enough that Nir’a’s never managed to conquer it even once. And His Grace—he’s shown us feats no one’s ever even heard of before.”
“Now that you mention it, Your Grace, you really have grown even stronger. Did you do some kind of special training over the winter? I’ve never heard of anyone killing Nir’a that easily. As long as we have you, I think we’ll be able to handle whatever comes next. Really—it’s such a relief.”
Vine heaped praise on him with embarrassing enthusiasm. And with Rigda nodding along, eyes shining, Seiyad felt like he was wearing clothes that didn’t quite fit. Though he had finally gotten used to Quilly’s dramatics over the past six months, Seiyad had rarely received emotions other than resentment or fear from others.
Worry, affection, even love whispered to him—he wasn’t used to any of it. He hadn’t even imagined Bridehit would apologize so sincerely. Everything that had happened recently felt alien to him. Power, he had learned, always brought fear and contempt in its wake.
Then, as if watching the moment unfold fondly, Ressas—who had been quietly smiling—spoke in a gentle tone, like reciting a fairy tale.
“Tither, who carries the blood of the North, is very special. Like the moon that lights up a dark and perilous night sky, no matter what hardships come, he’ll always find a path forward.”
The moon.
My moon.
Ressas’ affectionate nickname, which Seiyad had once dismissed without much thought, now took on a deeper weight as he heard those tender words. He found himself wondering if there was a reason Ressas always called him a moon, not a star.
His chest tightened with an inexplicable ache, and Seiyad fell silent. His insides churned so violently it felt like he could claw through his own ribs with his fingers.
“I think we’ve rested enough. Let’s look for a valley or a pond along the way.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Are we continuing deeper into the forest?”
“Yes. It’s not much farther now.”
Their original plan had been to move toward the forest’s edge to ensure Nir’a couldn’t escape. But Ressas had insisted they check deeper within—because if Nir’a was being summoned, then only by identifying the source could they put a definitive end to all of this.
And since Ressas had said that deliberately in front of both Vine and Rigda, Seiyad couldn’t very well demand an explanation. For now, he simply followed along with Ressas’ reasoning. After all, even Seiyad couldn’t cover every boundary on his own.
The questions and suspicions surged up to the base of his throat, but for now, subduing Nir’a took priority. Seiyad resumed walking, picking up the pace he’d momentarily paused. Dusk had already begun to settle. The sun, slowly sinking, was briefly accompanied in the same sky by the moon, which had always been present but hidden. Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon and was swallowed by the forest.
It was fully night by the time they instinctively sensed they had ventured quite deep into the forest. Though they had slain many Nir’a along the way, no high-tier ones had appeared. Contrary to expectations that the deeper into the woods and closer to the core they went, the stronger the Nir’a would become, the southern forest refused to follow that logic.
At some point, the Nir’a simply stopped appearing altogether. Rigda, who had brought oil and cloth, fashioned a torch and shared it with Vine as they remained alert, scanning their surroundings. But even after an hour, the forest was oppressively silent.
“Why aren’t the Nir’a showing up? We’ve come in so far…”
Vine muttered under his breath, unsettled by the unnatural calm. He was clearly at his physical limit after the long string of battles. Rigda wasn’t faring much better. Both were forcing themselves to keep moving, but they were nearing their limits.
Seiyad, too, had begun to feel the creeping need for Purification. The fatigue had come later than expected. Perhaps it was because Ressas was with him, but he hadn’t felt this physically well during a Nir’a hunt in a long time. He’d discovered far more efficient ways to kill them than ever before, which should’ve taken a toll—but hadn’t.
When he first encountered that towering Nir’a of immeasurable scale, he’d felt overwhelmed. He had been sure the backlash of his own power would hit before he managed to slay everything. But if he could maintain his current condition, he felt he could endure even worse battles ahead.
‘What does he want?’
Seiyad cast a sidelong glance at Ressas, who had been silently walking beside him, deep in thought.
“Your Grace, from here on, you must be careful. We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Seiyad shoved down the spike of curiosity that had risen again and refocused on the moment. The deeper they walked, the more his blood seemed to boil in his veins. A prickling chill crawled up his nape. His instincts screamed of danger—but it wasn’t the same reaction he’d had when sensing Nir’a.
Then, darkness dropped before them. A shadow so thick not even starlight or moonlight penetrated. Everyone came to a halt.
Strangely, even with torches in hand, they couldn’t see beyond the darkness. All that lay ahead was pitch black. Only Seiyad could faintly make out what lay within.
“Your Grace, you can see through the dark, right? What do you see?”
Ressas whispered. Seiyad focused his sight and cut through the blackness with enhanced vision. Through strands of unraveling darkness, he saw an enormous tree—thick enough to devour a mansion whole. At its center, there was a massive cavity. It looked very similar to what he had seen earlier that morning.
A core. It was the tree’s core.
“There’s a core.”
“Is it empty?”
Ressas hadn’t even been near the spot, so he had no reason to know—but still, he asked as if it were obvious. Seiyad was briefly speechless but complied. Hidden in the shadowy veil, the core that looked as if it held nothing glimmered faintly with a red hue.
“It’s not completely empty.”
No sooner had he said it than something suddenly shot out from the darkness, without a trace of warning. Seiyad jerked back, focusing all his senses on the direction of the attack.
It wasn’t Nir’a.
Incredibly, what he sensed was human. Before he could discern who or what they were, a barrage of murderous strikes came at them from all directions.
“Protect His Highness!”
Thankfully, none of the group was lacking in skill, and no one fell victim to the ambush. Following Seiyad’s shout, Vine and Rigda quickly formed a defensive perimeter around Ressas, while Seiyad slashed at the unseen enemies with his longsword.
He felt the undeniable resistance of cutting into solid flesh, and the smell of blood filled the air. Unlike when killing Nir’a, this was the pungent iron stench of human blood. Seiyad’s hand trembled for a moment. That wretched, metallic reek that filled the battlefield when he had once slaughtered countless people—it spread now through the air.
“Your Grace! These… these things, they’re people!”
“You are attacking a prince of Solias and its grand duke! Identify yourselves!”
With torches in hand, Vine and Rigda were limited to defense. The sound of blades clashing rang out, but their enemies made no noise—not even pained grunts. As humans, they should have groaned or cried out when wounded, but only the sound of steel echoed in the stillness.
Seiyad realized with growing horror that he was fighting not monsters, but humans. Unlike the fading shadows that bled no blood, these bled—and his stomach twisted. Doubt seeped into his grip. The person he had once been, the one who cut down foes without hesitation, began to resurface, dragging him into the memory of those brutal slaughters.
He was certain he had struck a vital spot. Someone had likely died. He didn’t even know who they were, but here he was, swinging anyway. It felt just like the days when he had gone berserk and killed indiscriminately.
‘I don’t want to kill people anymore… not anything living.’
Overwhelmed by a crushing wave of guilt and anguish, Seiyad’s sword faltered—just briefly. At that moment, Vine stumbled and swung his torch through the air. In its flickering light, Seiyad caught a glimpse of a knight rushing toward him. The crest that flashed across his vision was unmistakable—it belonged to the Royal Knights.
But he didn’t see the knight’s face.
The reason he didn’t—was because Ressas threw himself in front of Seiyad, shielding him just as the knight’s sword came in to strike.
