Chapter 57: Are You Going to Run Away By Dying? (2)

In the command control room of the Sacred Order of Sefira, Taragon, fully armored, was standing in front of Nox, the lieutenant commander. Four soldiers were waiting behind Taragon.

“Sir. I will begin the night patrol.”

“Hmm.. Must you really go on patrol, my lord? It has only been two days since you started learning field duties. Moreover, you must be exhausted from running all day, my lord. Why don’t you plan the patrol routes with me here, as usual, my lord?”

Though Taragon really did look tired, he forced a smile and replied, “I will never be able to start if I continue to do that. I intend to learn directly on the field from today.”

“Since it is your will, I shall not oppose it twice, my lord. Sir Taragon, recite the four regulations of the patrol unit.”

Taragon, despite stuttering briefly, managed to recite the regulations accurately.

“First, we are the guiding light that protects the House of Sefira. Second, reporting is the priority upon encountering an enemy. Third, a single enemy we miss ends the lives of dozens. Fourth, do not change or deviate from the patrol route without reporting.”

“State the assigned patrol route.”

Although Taragon hesitated for a moment, he successfully recited the entire patrol route.

“Sir Taragon, you may begin the mission.”

“Deployed!”

Taragon led the four soldiers and began his night patrol. Since it was his first patrol, Taragon was brimming with determination and nervousness. However, his tension seemed unnecessary as nothing significant occurred.

Yet, Taragon witnessed sights he hadn’t anticipated—sights even more surprising than finding an intruder. The underground training hall of the west wing was completely filled. Knights aspiring for growth were staying up to train at night, and among them was Anis.

Taragon noticed Anis but couldn’t bring himself to speak to him. It wasn’t simply because Anis was drenched in sweat, straining his lower body in intense training.

Anis always appeared so relaxed every morning... but he’s been training until late at night?

In contrast, Taragon always ensured to rest as soon as the sun set. Even the morning training alone was grueling and tiring for him.

“Sir, we must continue,” a soldier quietly reminded him.

Taragon snapped out of his observation of Anis when he heard the soldier.

“Oh, right. Yes, let’s move on.”

As the patrol continued, Taragon also encountered Myle, the second-oldest brother, in an entirely unexpected place—the library. Myle was there alone, relying on a single candle to read. Myle was so focused on his reading that he didn’t even notice Taragon.

Myle knows everything because he reads that much.

Taragon felt dizzy. He thought his brothers were just born geniuses; he never knew that they were working so hard, as they never looked tired or exhausted at all.

Wow, how long have they lived like this?

Tarragon felt embarrassed. He felt pathetic for thinking that he was like this because he wasn’t born with natural talent, when he never put in as much work as his brothers.

“I would have never realized this if it wasn’t for Keter...” Taragon muttered, even though the soldiers were standing beside him.

“I am pretty great,” Keter said from the dark.

“Ahh!”

“

Cough!

”

“Ugh...”

The soldiers who were patrolling with Taragon fainted with short cries. Taragon instinctively reached for the sword at his waist, but he never managed to draw it. Kether’s flick struck his forehead first.

Smack!

“Gah!”

Feeling like he had been hit by a hammer, Taragon stumbled back.

“Why on earth does an archer carry a sword? I just don’t get it,” Keter said.

“Ugh, Keter. Is that really you?”

Keter seemed to be wrapped in darkness as if it were his armor. Even though the soldiers held lanterns, the light only seemed to hide him further.

“Otherwise, you'd already be a corpse.”

“What about the soldiers?”

“I killed them for a bit.”

“W-what!?”

“Why are you surprised? I mean they’re just unconscious.”

“Oh...”

“‘That’s all you can say? Four soldiers nearly died, and you didn’t even notice me coming.”

Taragon picked up a lantern dropped by one of the soldiers, finally able to see Keter’s face clearly.

“The ghost that stabs people in the back of the neck at night—was that really you, Keter?”

“That’s not important right now. I need a favor.”

“A favor? At this hour?”

“Yes. It’s something only you can do.”

“Something only I can do...!”

Taragon, who was nervous, grinned at what Keter said.

“I want you to take Katherine to Elder Panir’s residence.”

“That's so out of the blue. Why?”

“You won’t be able to handle the reason. You still want to know?”

“... My life is hard enough, so I don’t want to know. If you’re asking me to take Katherine there, you want me to take her without anyone noticing, right? That’s impossible. The patrol routes cover the entire mansion.”

“There’s two sides to everything. If you’re good at patrolling, you should be able to get through it, too. Get Katherine out and bring her to Elder Panir’s residence without anyone noticing.”

“It sounds hard...”

“It seems like you still want to stick to the easy things.”

“Huh?!” Taragon gasped as Keter turned his back on him.

“No, what I meant was... It sounds hard, but I’ll try. Leave it to me.”

Walking into the dark, Keter said, “I thought you would say that.”

Then, he vanished in front of Taragon’s eyes. Taragon, who was left in the dark hall all alone, didn’t have time to think about where Keter went.

The other patrol unit will be here in ten minutes. I have to hide the soldiers first.

As he cleaned up the soldiers, Taragon thought about what Keter said.

“There’s two sides to everything... I’ll remember that.”

* * *

Panir looked down at the soup in front of him. It was a meat soup so clear that he could see his reflection. As Besil had taken a bite, Panir followed etiquette and took a spoonful of the soup.

It’s good.

The subtle umami of the meat and the mild sweetness of the vegetables created an appetite he didn’t realize he had. Panir, who initially had no intention of eating, found himself eyeing the well-toasted bread on the table. There was no reason not to have it. He cut a small piece and took a bite. The bread was soft and buttery, filling his mouth with a rich taste. As he swallowed, a pleasant sense of fullness sent a shiver of satisfaction through his body.

Even though it was just a spoonful of soup and a piece of bread, Panir felt a shift within himself. He began to reflect on why he became so angry while speaking with Besil.

I was resentful. By right, I should have held your position, and you should have served me as the commander of the Order of the Galaxy.

Panir ran his hand over his right knee. In his youth, according to the rule of primogeniture, Panir, as the eldest son, was set to become the patriarch. However, he suffered a crippling injury when an aura-infused arrow struck his knee on the battlefield, which forced him to abandon his position.

The one who had fired the arrow was Ricotta, his younger brother. He insisted it wasn’t intentional, claiming it was an attempt to protect Panir from an ambush. It was true that he had saved Panir, but it was also true that he crippled him. As a result, Ricotta became the patriarch, and Panir, the eldest son who could not become the patriarch, naturally retreated into seclusion.

It was Besil, who succeeded Ricotta as the patriarch, that brought Panir back from his half-wrecked life. Besil asked him for help, asking him to become an elder of the family.

“Uncle, you are more talented than my father and me. Please don’t waste that and use it for Sefira.”

Panir was convinced by that. Though he wasn’t able to be the patriarch due to an unfortunate accident, he vowed to advise the patriarch and make Sefira even greater. He resented Ricotta, but Besil, his son, did nothing wrong.

But as time passed, Panir’s attitude changed. Besil didn’t accept his suggestions.

“Alright.”

Besil always seemed open to his suggestions, but nothing ever went Panir’s way. As the family’s situation started heading downhill, Panir began to feel like this was Besil’s fault—that the family was falling because Besil wasn’t listening to him. He found himself overwhelmed with suspicions. He believed that the family wouldn’t have become this isolated if Besil had just listened to him. He wondered if Ricotta had ordered Besil to appoint him as an elder to torment him.

At some point, Panir stopped giving Besil advice. He silently carried out his given tasks, and all he did at family meetings was pick on Besil’s plans without giving his own. Since Besil never listened to his advice anyway, Panir wanted to know just how remarkable Besil’s own ideas were that he could so easily disregard him.

As time passed, Panir believed that he couldn’t save the Sefira family with his current attitude. As such, he began to act on his own; he made his own plans without notifying Besil. All of it was for Sefira.

Panir felt himself losing his appetite again. He glanced at Besil. The once feisty, energetic Besil now had lines of age across his face.

Time goes by so fast.

Panir still resented Besil, but for some reason, he thought that perhaps none of it had been intentional.

Because you don’t torment other people.

Panir knew that their relationship had soured, but staying like this would be detrimental to Sefira.

Panir stood up in resolve. He knew that something definitive had to be settled here and now, even if it meant his own downfall.

“Besil, I...”

As Panir was about to go on...

“

Cough

.”

Bright red blood covered the appetizing foods. Besil, who had coughed up blood, looked at Panir, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

“My lord!”

Panir’s eyes widened in shock. Besil collapsed in front of him, covering his mouth. It was slow, as if time had slowed down.

Soon after, the two people who were guarding the door rushed to the table. It was Suvide and Gasilius.

Suvide emptied the antidote into Besil’s mouth and shouted, “Sir Gasilius, arrest Elder Panir immediately!”

Gasilius didn’t move, and neither did Panir, who could have gotten arrested. Instead, the soldiers and knights rushed in, hearing the commotion.

“My lord!”

Though shocked that Besil had collapsed, the knights locked the door and the windows. The servants outside began to stir, and the atmosphere froze instantly.

“Y-you really...!”

His lips trembling, Panir pointed at Besil.

This is a conspiracy—an insidious one at that. This is Besil’s scheme to bring me down!

Panir was enraged that he had fallen for such a petty trick, and he felt his rationality slipping away. The situation was so tense that it could blow up at any minute. Panir’s face flushed red, and veins stood out on his body. Though he was unarmed and one knee could not function properly, Panir was a master-level knight—overpowering him would not be easy.

Just then, someone shouted, “Everyone, stop!”

Everyone turned their attention to the voice. Even Panir, who was furious, reacted to it. It was Prosciutto’s voice. He was leaning against a pillar with his head bowed low.

Keter hid behind the pillar as he held Prosciutto up.

Mimicking Prosciutto’s voice, Keter said, “The culprit behind the poisoning is not Elder Panir!”