Chapter 293: The Calm Before the Storm

Whooosh...

The wind rattled the window. As night fell, a sudden, eerie gust began to blow, almost as if Titan Shutean’s lingering resentment was haunting Heim.

“Just as you said. He’s here.”

Israphil checked outside and then turned to Karyl.

“Yes.” Karyl slowly opened his eyes and got up from the sofa. “I’ll get going.”

“In the meantime, I’ll finish preparing for our departure. I’ll wait outside Heim.”

“Got it.”

Karyl glanced at Kay Rothschild, who was sitting on the coffin containing Zarka Hochi.

“You got something to say?”

Her expression had been stiff ever since the incident with the emperor. No one would have noticed anything strange with her, since she had always been taciturn, both in her previous life and now. However, Karyl could tell something was different.

“Zarka asked me to relay a message.”

“What is it?”

“The person you asked him to find... there was no trace of them.”

“I see...”

Kay shrugged as if she didn’t understand the significance of the message, but Karyl nodded.

So Rael isn’t here

, he thought.

According to Nain Darhon, Rael was a half-elf, half-Nephilim. Unlike humans, elves were a single race united under the royal house of Tinuviel, and their will was passed down to all elves, even to hybrids.

Karyl had secretly asked Zarka to search for Rael because, even though he was dead, his elven nature still connected him to the will of the elves.

The primordial light was twofold.

Among them, the light that the elves follow is not Yula’s, but that of Rasis, one of the two powers.

Just approaching him would cause a human to be annihilated. This meant that to seal Rasis and wield his power, the strength of an elf was required.

That’s why the Church must be holding Rael—to use her as a seal for Rasis.

They were undoubtedly using her for that purpose.

If I find Rael, I can gain Rasis as well.

That was the conclusion Karyl had reached.

“We’ll find her eventually.”

Though finding clues about Rael remained difficult, Karyl felt that, compared to his previous life, he was gradually drawing closer to her. The altered future was binding threads that had once been left disconnected.

“I’ll be back soon,” Karyl said as he glanced at the man standing outside the window.

This man was just as crucial as Rael in shaping the future.

***

“What were you thinking?”

“I thought you’d come with Randol... but coming alone means you wanted to discuss something you can’t even tell your brother, right?”

Karyl looked at his eldest brother, Martte MacGovern. His expression darkened at the mention of Randol’s name.

“It seems you prefer talking in private. Good thing this time we’re somewhere you could walk to on your own two feet.”

Karyl’s words, reminiscent of their time in Tatur, made Martte frown slightly.

“I came to you because I want to be clear about something. Drawing your sword against Father... Do you really intend to sever ties with the MacGovern family?”

“And who was it that blocked that sword?”

“I...!” Martte tried to speak but bit his lip instead.

“Now that Olivurn is set to ascend the throne, Kuwell MacGovern will be loyal to the new emperor and fight for him. You think that sword won’t be pointed at Tatur?”

“...”

“Sooner or later, we’ll have no choice but to fight. No one can ask you to deny your loyalty. Kuwell MacGovern has staked his future on Olivurn Shutean. But what about you? Have you staked your future on Olivurn as well, Martte MacGovern?”

“For the sake of the continent... His Majesty’s death...”

Karyl chuckled at his brother’s response.

“Who’s arguing with that? If poisoning Kromen was also for the greater good, then I suppose the death of that child was also noble.”

“...You’re right. I believe in His Highness.”

“Do you really?”

At that, Martte’s eyes waver slightly.

“Are you following His Highness, or are you still following Father? Do you still prefer the comfort of Father’s shadow?”

“You...!!”

At that moment, Karyl reached into his robe and pulled something out.

Martte flinched, fearing it might be a weapon, but instead, Karyl held a small note.

“Do you recognize this?”

“That’s...”

Martte realized it was the same note that had been attached to the leg of the messenger bird during Karyl’s confrontation with Kuwell. Even in that tense moment, Karyl had calmly checked the message, and no one present could’ve stopped him.

“With the advancement of magic, people look down on old-fashioned methods, but they can still catch your magic off guard.”

Karyl unfolded the note, as if double-checking its contents.

“Surveillance of enemy nations has long relied solely on magic fields and magical illusions. Spies focus only on intercepting magical communication, and they’ve become indifferent to the birds flying around.”

“...”

Martte’s eyes were fixed on the note in Karyl’s hand.

“Only the northern immigrant tribes and southern barbarians still communicate like this. They’ve never attacked the empire or other nations on this continent, so perhaps no one thought they could actually gather intelligence without magic.”

Karyl lightly waved the note. “The continentals never would’ve thought they could be spied on with birds.”

“...What are you saying? What’s written on that note from the messenger bird?”

“What if I told you that Olivurn has strong ties with the Wooden Cloud? Will you still just follow in Father’s footsteps?” Karyl demanded.

At that, Martte’s eyes widened in shock. “Slander! That’s utter nonsense!”

“Father trusts Olivurn, and I won’t bother questioning his trust as a loyal subject. However, someone needs to view this war from a different perspective. That’s the duty of the eldest son of the family.”

“I...”

“If you don’t like it, then deny what I’m saying. Just dismiss it as slander, like you did earlier. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“What?”

“You’re free to simply put your trust in Olivurn, like everyone else, and hope that everything will be easily solved. At the end of the day, you and I will inevitably become enemies, whether you like it or not.”

“...”

Martte bit his lip. “Why... Why are you telling me all this...?”

His voice was tinged with frustration. Though doubts still lingered in his mind, trying to uncover the truth would mean questioning the faith his father had placed in Olivurn.

“Forget about it. Honestly, what point would there be in uncovering the truth behind Kromen’s death now? I doubt the man who asked me to kill his own father would care much for it.”

“But... But still...!”

“Yeah,

but still

. That’s precisely why I’m telling you this. You’re always the one who goes, ‘but, but...’ Always you, brother.”

Gulp—

Martte swallowed hard.

“He shouldn’t have done that...That man.”

The killing intent emanating from Karyl was so overwhelming that Martte felt suffocated.

“Because that’s...”

Someone who had only lived once couldn’t possibly comprehend the anger Karyl had harbored over eons.

“...That’s the minimum decency a human deserves.”

Martte’s shoulders were trembling. Seeing him like that, Karyl sighed softly and looked into the distance, toward the forest.

“Trust Randol a little more. He’ll be of help. He may be an imperial, but he’s also learned the way of the barbarian sword,” Karyl said, although not directly to Martte, but seemingly to someone within the forest.

“...”

Hidden behind a tree, Randol’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, realizing that Karyl was aware of his presence.

“Could it be that you...?”

“Yes. I gave him a test too.”

Martte’s face contorted as he muttered in a low voice, “You're truly a devil...”

“Yes,” Karyl agreed with a smirk.

“...What?”

Martte looked at him with surprise, taken aback by Karyl’s nonchalant reply.

“And only a devil can kill a god.”

With those final words, Karyl turned away.

Martte realized their conversations always ended this way, with him standing there alone, watching Karyl’s retreating figure. He had never been the one to leave Karyl behind, not once.

“Just watch... I’ll strip you of your facade. Every last bit of it.”

***

“Ha... Hahaha!”

Laughter echoed in the room. No one would expect a son to react like this to his father’s death.

“His Majesty has passed away.”

“It was excessive. Ordering the emperor’s death on the spot could have easily been misunderstood.”

“Indeed, I lost my composure. Seeing that man, for some reason, makes my heart quiver. That’s why I’m even more curious about his true identity. Not only did he fight on equal footing with Sir Kuwell, who’s known as the greatest swordsman, but his audacity too... He’s impressive.”

Olivurn turned around.

“I found myself intrigued by him... but I wonder if he might become a hindrance to our plans,” he mused, running his hand through his hair.

A silver-haired man, whose eyes held a mysterious, almost otherworldly light, was watching Olivurn as he removed his robe.

“Though, asking you such a question is probably foolish.”

“...”

“I will ensure everything progresses as planned during the state funeral. If it goes smoothly, we might be able to use

it

in this war. If so, no matter how skilled a Sword Master might be, they won’t be able to dominate the battlefield as they do now.”

“Hmm.”

“However, if we meet him again, I may need your strength. He’s unpredictable.”

At that moment, a sudden gust of wind blew, causing Olivurn’s hair to flutter.

Crack...!!

In that instant, Neil Blanc reached out his hand.

***

“...Why did you suddenly do that?” Israphil asked Karyl, bewildered at his snapping a branch and throwing it as hard as he could just before they were about to leave Heim.

“It’s nothing,” Karyl replied, brushing off his hands. “Just a farewell gesture.”

***

Crack...

Whiz... Whiz...

Neil Blanc caught the branch that had flown straight toward Olivurn’s forehead and threw it aside.

Thunk—

Sizzle...!

The branch, blackened and smoking, disintegrated into ash the moment it hit the ground.

“...”

Olivurn stared in disbelief at the pile of ashes and swallowed dry. Even though Neil Blanc had caught the branch, the intangible force within it had grazed his cheek and embedded itself into the wall, leaving a large hole.

Thud... Thud...

Dust trickled down from the wall, falling on Olivurn’s shoulder.

“Could it be... that he noticed?”

“He shouldn’t have. No matter how skilled he is, he wouldn't know I’m here. No one does.”

Neil Blanc shook his head, gazing at his own hand where the scorching energy had seared his palm. More remarkable than Karyl’s incredible strength, having thrown the branch like a missile, was Neil Blanc’s ability to effortlessly catch it.

His power seemed unfathomable.

The encounter with the enigmatic last duke, even now, felt less like chance and more like destiny.

The duke is starting to move

, Olivurn thought as he glanced back at him.

“Karyl MacGovern...” Neil Blanc murmured his name, brushing his silver hair back as if he had been waiting for this moment.

Clench—

Olivurn tightened his fist at the sight.

At last... Karyl, I should thank you. You’ve ignited a spark in him.

Though he couldn’t read his thoughts, he could tell that Karyl had piqued Neil Blanc’s interest.

The empire’s four dukes are now gathering under me,

Olivurn thought.

Both men sensed that this brief reprieve was the calm before the storm.