Seiyad had never once considered such a thing before.
The last thing he could register before death had been the feeling of bone and flesh being torn apart, and the sharp stab into his heart. That expressionless white face staring down at him and Ressas’s pale hand, its veins bulging, had been so deeply etched into his cornea that he never even thought to wonder if the sword that killed him might have been one of the kingdom’s treasures.
But now, some time having passed, the blade that had emitted a pure and radiant light was unmistakably Holy Death. He was sure of it—he had seen it countless times at Aster’s side.
A chill crawled up the back of his neck as the realization dawned late.
Since his return, every time he’d been conscious, he had seen Aster with that sword in hand. The fact that the very weapon used to kill him had been so close all along without him noticing—it was bizarre.
That inexplicable unease left Seiyad momentarily speechless. His mind swam with confusion.
‘…Why did Ressas have that sword? Aster never lets it out of his sight.’
The Crown Prince had said he entrusted Seiyad’s fate to Ressas, but even so, there had been no reason to hand him the sword. Holy Death was a ceremonial treasure, not a blade used for executions.
Everything that had happened during his Rampage lay outside Seiyad’s conscious memory, leaving his understanding woefully incomplete. But judging by the Aster he now knew, he couldn’t believe the prince would so easily relinquish Seiyad’s judgment to someone else.
Whatever occurred in the interim was utterly unknown to him.
Ressas remained silent, waiting for Seiyad to speak. As his lips parted, he slowly reached out and gently touched the tips of Seiyad’s fingers that were braced on the ground—an almost soothing gesture.
But before the warmth could spread over his fingernails, Seiyad instinctively pulled his hand away, chilled by a subconscious dread.
“If you’re seeking the sword in a physical sense, I can retrieve it from His Highness’s quarters.”
It was strange. Seiyad had never disliked being touched by Ressas. Even during the most uncomfortable times, the moment they touched, the sensation had always been intoxicating.
It was the same now.
But just now—it hadn’t been for Purification.
They were entangled deeply enough now that Seiyad could tell. Ressas had simply tried to touch him as himself.
That set off an odd ripple in his chest.
His feelings for Ressas had softened compared to before, so he didn’t understand why he suddenly felt this way.
“…The sword isn’t with His Highness anymore. It’s now hidden somewhere deep within one of the Three Forests.”
Ressas gazed down at the empty space where Seiyad’s hand had been. His sorrowful eyes lingered there briefly before lifting back to Seiyad.
“I plan to corner His Highness until he’s forced to return the sword. In the meantime, I need to find out where it’s hidden. If Your Grace helps, it’ll be much easier.”
“Since that was the condition I set, of course I’ll help.”
Seiyad wanted to end the conversation here.
For someone who had lived without feeling anything but rage, emotions that couldn’t be easily categorized were exhausting.
Fighting to the death was easier. That way, there was nothing to think about.
Erasing himself and hovering near death’s edge—that was something Seiyad almost welcomed.
Thinking like that made him realize, once again, that death held little meaning for him.
Looking back, he had never feared dying.
Death was for those with regrets—those with things they couldn’t let go of in life.
Whether it was their own life, their glory, or someone precious, only those who had something to lose had the strength to fight death fiercely.
After his entire family was gone, Seiyad had nothing left to lose.
All he had was the duty to prove himself.
That duty was what kept him going, but in hindsight, it was a burden he could’ve let go of at any time.
So there was no need to dwell so deeply on the fact that Ressas had killed him.
He still needed regular Purification, and at this rate, its effectiveness would only diminish.
…Just a bit more.
Just a little more time, and he’d forget it all.
“There’s no more time to waste. You should get ready to leave.”
Now that the objective was clear, it was time to act.
A sense of urgency rose within him, as if time had already been squandered.
Ressas stood first. With the pale dawn sky at his back, he extended a hand toward Seiyad.
“I’ll keep watch while Your Grace bathes.”
“Are you trying to tempt me into sacrilege? I’m fine.”
The offered hand was pale.
Seiyad took in a deep breath and flinched for a moment, but slowly shook his head.
Then, without taking Ressas’s hand, he rose to his feet on his own.
It was a clean break, unlike the moments before when their bodies had intertwined so completely.
“I don’t need Purification at the moment.”
With that refusal, he deliberately avoided looking at Ressas’s face.
Because he knew all too well—just how much the beautiful prince, with his delicate heart, swayed between joy and sorrow depending on Seiyad’s actions.
And the more he understood that, the less he could comprehend the Ressas of his past life.
***
Vine and Rigda had collapsed into a sleep like the dead, but by some miracle, they awoke at dawn.
The fact that they’d fallen asleep while their lord needed guarding left them both flustered and guilt-ridden.
When they said they’d accept any punishment upon returning, Seiyad offered an alternative.
Vine, guilty for falling asleep first, surrendered his upper garments to Ressas.
Since Seiyad himself had torn the tattered clothes, there was no way he could return in that state.
He was royalty, after all.
That pale skin, tinged pink in places, couldn’t be exposed to prying eyes.
Even the mere state of his appearance would give Aster something to criticize.
Seiyad wanted to ensure that Ressas left no room for reproach moving forward.
Vine obediently gave up his clothes and, seemingly proud of his body, boasted about it to Rigda.
Rigda, watching from the side, scoffed and smacked him on the back.
“You’re still narrower in the shoulders than His Highness,” she teased, making Vine flush red.
Seiyad, watching the playful exchange, didn’t scold them.
Instead, he gave them instructions before they left the forest.
“Neither of you is to speak a word of what you saw yesterday—to anyone. And from now on, never leave His Highness’s side. Stay alert and guard him.”
“Yes, understood.”
Vine answered dutifully, while Rigda followed up with a question.
“Then should we keep our presence in the forest a secret too?”
“No. The Crown Prince will surely have noticed your absence. It’s better to use this as an opportunity.”
Seiyad turned to Ressas, seeking his agreement. Ressas’s abilities still left many questions in Seiyad’s mind, but once revealed, they would be invaluable in solidifying his position. He had no way of knowing how Aster would react, but…
“Do as Your Grace wishes.”
As always, Ressas deferred to Seiyad’s will.
That passive manner—never asserting his own opinion when it came to matters involving the two of them—suddenly felt stifling. Yet Seiyad said nothing. After all, Ressas’s attitude had never hindered his objectives.
And with that, the conversation ended. The group swiftly began their exit from the forest.
The four of them, with strong stamina, pushed through the dense trees without rest. The forest was vast, and even moving quickly, it took half a day to get out.
They had departed in the early hours of morning and reached the forest’s edge around sunset.
Though they’d examined the lingering signs of intense battle along the way, they never found Tither’s body.
As they neared the border, Seiyad sensed a multitude of presences.
In the distance, flickering torchlight came into view.
Among hundreds of knights, he could also feel the presence of several Tithers.
Before long, Seiyad spotted Cecilia leading the group toward them.
Relief surged in his chest.
Even if she’d only recently awakened to her powers, Cecilia was a Tither.
His faith that she wouldn’t fall to low-grade Nir’a had not been in vain.
She looked weary, and her appearance was less than pristine, but there were no visible wounds.
“Oppa!”
Cecilia, too, found him quickly.
Riding Luna, she galloped over and leapt from the saddle without hesitation, sprinting the last few steps into his arms and burying her face in his chest.
“I believed you wouldn’t die—because you’re my oppa.”
Nova and Stella, who had followed her at a more cautious pace, dismounted quietly.
Their expressions shifted from visible relief to something almost overwhelming.
“Seiyad, you’re the one who purified the forest with His Highness, right?”
Stella asked in a tone that barely concealed her disbelief.
Before Seiyad could respond, Vine purposely raised his voice to answer in his place.
“Yes, His Highness and His Grace the Duke eliminated the core at the end of the forest!”
“So that’s why the Nir’a vanished…!”
Nova exclaimed in astonishment.
Hearing their exchange, the surrounding knights suddenly erupted into cheers.
Shouts and murmurs of excitement spread like wildfire.
“Wow! Duke Axid has purified the southern forest!”
The only kinds of cheers Seiyad had ever known in his life were cries of hostility.
This kind of welcome—it caught him off guard.
He was overwhelmed first by confusion.
Suppressing the urge to step away from the unfamiliar energy of celebration, he began mentally sorting through the events.
The first thing he needed to know was the extent of the damage to the people.
“Cecil, tell me what happened. Was everyone scattered?”
“No. Only you and the Duke of Shildras were separated. I stayed with the Tithers and blocked the Nir’a from escaping the forest. When the endless fighting began to feel overwhelming, the Nir’a suddenly vanished—just like that. When we finally got out of the forest, we confirmed it was safe outside. We even sent knights to verify it again.”
Cecilia, unlike the frightened girl trembling three days ago, now spoke with surprising composure.
Listening to her clear explanation, Seiyad voiced a question that had been bothering him.
“Then where is the Duke of Shildras?”
A duke from the south, possessing strength similar to Seiyad’s, couldn’t have died from this. He could be exhausted, perhaps, but not dead.
With so many knights present, his absence made no sense.
At his question, the brightness faded from Nova and Stella’s faces.
Cecilia also furrowed her brow in clear displeasure, then cautiously whispered:
“The Duke… as soon as he returned, was taken to the ducal estate with His Highness Aster. He’s currently imprisoned—on charges of trying to destroy evidence by killing His Highness’s knights in the forest.”
