58. Act 2, Shadows of the Royal Capital
*
Fernandez’s sleep pattern was six hours every three days. It didn’t mean he slept in two-hour chunks, but literally slept once every three days. The minimum sleep required to maintain basic bodily functions was exactly that much, according to experimental results.
Late at night, he sat cross-legged on his bed with a sword resting on his thigh. For several nights, he had been conducting experiments to restore his magical energy.
‘The Diemonica body is too high-performance.’
-If I had this in my previous life, I would’ve finished my work by sixty.
‘If I were Diemonica in my previous life, I wouldn’t have even learned magic. What are you talking about?’
Fernandez flexed his fingers lightly and quickly traced the Beastman’s meridians. The abdominal wound was healing, and the magic circuits in his body had already been burned out by the divine blood flowing through him.
-Sssss…
With a sharp pain in his left arm, his magical energy scattered. He placed the Bronze Throne on the table. The Bronze Throne’s functions were slowly returning.
‘Once a day, huh?’
It had completely lost its functionality due to the reckless use of magic during the Infernur incident, but it truly lived up to being an ancient demon relic.
-Knock knock.
“Are you asleep?”
“Come in.”
Fernandez quickly hung the Bronze Throne on his wrist and spoke. Soon, the door opened. Abel appeared, wearing a thin robe and smiling faintly. She had just washed her hair, and as she brushed her damp locks, she sat down across from Fernandez.
“It’s quite late for a lady to visit.”
“…?”
“If rumors spread, it would be a big deal. A woman sneaking into a young knight’s room at night.”
Abel smirked, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him. Fernandez chuckled.
“If you’re afraid of rumors, couldn’t you have come during the day?”
“That’s no fun. I came because I’m curious about something.”
Abel made a sullen face for a moment, then looked at Fernandez and spoke.
“You said you made a deal with Vaitas, right? That you turned the world back. So, I’ve been thinking, and it’s strange. Before you turned the world back, were you a Dark Mage?”
“Yes.”
“You must have been a very powerful being.”
“Depending on your perspective, yes.”
“Did you borrow the power of demons?”
“I even summoned demons.”
“Then why?”
Abel paused, choosing her words carefully. Even if he had been a terrible villain, that was in the past. His recent actions had been just and righteous. She cautiously opened her mouth.
“Why did the Temple of the Gods turn the world back for you?”
“The world will perish.”
“…What?”
Abel froze. She stared at Fernandez, as if demanding an explanation. Speaking as if confessing to the human guardian dragon, Fernandez opened his mouth.
“The world will perish. I hope it can be undone, but it might not be possible. This era is already rotting from its roots. In every town, city, and country where people gather, demon worshippers and cults have infiltrated, and the wise are falling for the temptations of hell.”
“Such moments have always existed, and yet you humans have always…”
“This time is different. Abel. This time.”
Fernandez’s eyes were weary. He shook his head.
“All five Great Demons will descend to the earth. The Temple of the Gods is sealed, and humans are weak. The heroes will hang themselves and die. That is the fate left to us. The fate I saw, and the destruction I actively contributed to.”
“Is there… hope?”
“There is no hope. There is desperation. And there is me.”
With a sad look in her eyes, Abel listened as Fernandez spoke with a firm tone.
“There is me. I came back for this, and I swore to do it. Abel. Call it disgusting hypocrisy, call it worthless atonement. I have not repented, and I never will. But there is me. The demon worshipper who brought down the largest region and rallied the most heroes in the last world.”
“If the Temple of the Gods revived you to save human civilization, why are you so willingly fulfilling their promise?”
Fernandez pondered for a moment. Could he trust her? Should he tell her this? Her goodwill was clearly not admiration for a human hero. Her feelings were closer to affection.
He wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t insensitive or stupid. If he were, he wouldn’t have survived this long. He was a Dark Mage who knew how to read people’s hearts and actively exploited their weaknesses.
But he had no right to take advantage of her goodwill. Fernandez spoke slowly.
“I agreed to save my son’s soul.”
“…What??”
Abel’s eyes widened. A son…? A son? He had a child? Then, did he have a wife? Humans reproduce sexually, so yes. That would make sense.
Right… Abel slowly composed herself. But a son?
“A wife!”
“…What?”
“Ah, uh. Hmm… So, you had a wife? Of course, a man like you would have one. Right. My thoughts were too short-sighted. A wife. A wife… She must have been a dignified and beautiful woman. Right…”
Abel rambled, avoiding Fernandez’s gaze.
“He hasn’t been born yet.”
“…The age difference is quite… We were a couple?”
“Very, very much.”
“How much…?”
Abel needed to know how much time she had left. If he didn’t exist yet in this era, she still had a chance! At that moment, a loud commotion erupted downstairs. The sound of armor clashing and horses neighing.
“Albert of Sernerd!! Are you here!!”
“…Uninvited guests have arrived.”
“They’re the guests I’ve been waiting for.”
Fernandez, feeling relieved internally, strapped his sword to his belt and stood up. He hadn’t expected them to come at night, but he’d hear their reasons soon enough.
*
Baimeer was causing a commotion in front of the inn on horseback. The inn’s servants dared not stop him. If a Knight of the Round Table wanted to make a scene, it had to be allowed.
“Knight Albert! I am Baimeer of Altheis! Come out and face me!!”
“May I call this rude?”
The inn door opened, and a weary young man walked out. Baimeer laughed heartily but scrutinized him with sharp eyes.
A lean but well-trained body. The black curly hair and blue eyes of the House of Sernerd. His features were rugged from hardship, yet he retained the noble delicacy of his jawline.
‘Ah, it’s like seeing Lucas.’
Baimeer’s smile deepened. He jumped off his horse with a friendly expression. A heavy thud followed. Clanking in his armor, he strode over to the young man and clapped his shoulder.
“Hmm!! Well-trained indeed. Tall, good bones. For a son rumored to be so delicate! Haha, the rumors must have been wrong! Good for you!!”
Baimeer laughed warmly, slapping the young man’s shoulder with his steel gauntlet. The young man winced slightly.
“Even if you’re a Knight of the Round Table, this is rude.”
“Rude! It’s been a while since someone spoke to me like this! Hahaha. Very…”
“Very well. How rude!”
– Swoosh.
Baimeer took a step back and drew his sword from the saddle. He shouted boldly.
“Pointing out rudeness to a knight means insulting their honor! Now, Albert of Sernerd! Shall we see if you even have the right to do so?”
‘Showing up out of nowhere in the middle of the night to pick a fight?’
-Look at that guy’s eyes. He’s got something in mind.
‘This is unexpected. Why is that old man acting like this?’
-The Knights of the Round Table are politicians. Don’t let your guard down.
-Swoosh.
Fernandez laughed at Faijashi’s words and drew his sword. If the guy came out so aggressively with a purpose, then so be it.
‘I’ve never let my guard down.’
*
Baimeer wiped his sweat and frowned. He looked at Fernandez, who was panting and leaning on his sword. He had fought well, but his skills were still unpolished, lacking depth. He shouted in a dissatisfied tone.
“Your father was a knight known for his technique, so how come his son fights like a bear?”
“Were you acquainted with my father?”
“Of course! Albert. I was curious why you were hiding your name!”
“…You must have a reason for seeking me out, knowing who I am.”
“Hahaha! You really are nothing like your father! That rascal Lucas. Hiding such a son. Hahaha.”
Baimeer finally laughed cheerfully and helped the staggering Fernandez. He exclaimed in surprise.
“Goodness, your body is like a furnace! Do you have a fever?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, my foot! This… is this blood? Were you injured?! Did you get hurt by a troll?”
“No.”
“I must be out of my mind! Let’s go inside! The wind is cold!”
Baimeer barely seemed to hear Fernandez’s words. He dragged Fernandez into the inn without hesitation. The servants hurriedly made way for him. Inside the inn, Kirhas and Abel were looking at him with worried eyes.
Baimeer grinned at the sight.
“Your father was a rock of a man, but his son is quite the ladies’ man!”
“…Nonsense.”
“Hahaha! I’m just happy. Happy! You’ve grown up well!”
Kirhas quickly ran over and helped Fernandez stand. She glared at Baimeer with sharp eyes and growled. Baimeer laughed heartily.
*
After shooing away all the servants, Baimeer downed a cold beer. He frowned as he watched Fernandez changing his bandages.
“Did you get hurt by an undead?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Looking at the wound, it’s a puncture. Three inches above the navel. A little higher, and your heart or lungs would’ve been punctured. You fought like that with such an injury?”
“I can handle it.”
“Ah, youth! Wonderful! Hah. In my younger days, I didn’t even count it as being hit unless it was by at least four arrows!”
Baimeer laughed heartily and pounded the table. It was noisy. This old knight still had a fiery temperament. Fernandez decided to reserve his judgment that the Knights of the Round Table were merely politicians.
“So, what brings you here? You could’ve come at a better time.”
“Couldn’t do that. I’m leaving this city tomorrow! I wanted to see your face before that!”
“Then why didn’t you come during the day?”
“There are matters unsuitable to discuss while the sun is up. So, can these women be trusted?”
“At least more than you.”
“Hahaha! You’ve got spirit! That’s how young men should be!”
Baimeer laughed for a while, then pulled a chair closer to Fernandez. He scrutinized Fernandez with sharp eyes.
“Fernandez, son of Lucas. Did you gain any other information while fighting the wraiths?”
“Do you know their identity?”
“They’re from the Church of the Underground Burial. Now, it’s your turn to answer.”
“They were minions of the Necropolis. I heard they joined hands with the Church of the Underground Burial.”
“Why did you hide your name?”
“Isn’t there a reason for a secret to be a secret?”
“Ha! Bold!”
“Just being honest.”
“Then answer me honestly.”
Baimeer put down his beer mug and crossed his arms. His thick forearms bulged and twisted.
“Are you loyal to the kingdom, like your father?”
The problems facing the kingdom were numerous. The unrest of the Phaeirn Royal Family, the sudden disappearance of the Guimerin Dynasty elves, the vanishing of the Franzrit bloodline that had been building power in the northwest of the kingdom, the rise of the Church of the Underground Burial eating away at the kingdom’s strength from within, and the aging of King Helga.
In such a critical time, the existence of a young knight who had begun to make a name for himself while hiding his identity could easily turn into a bad omen. For Baimeer, who was tracking the connection between the Franzrit bloodline and the Church of the Underground Burial, he needed information to fully trust this young man.
“No.”
“…Were you hired by the Phaeirn Royal Family?”
“That’s not it either.”
“Franzrit? The Empire? The Church of the Underground Burial? Whoever it is, Lucas would be saddened!”
“None of them. Rather, I’m trying to do something that will help the Dane Royal Family.”
Baimeer tilted his head, urging him to continue with a frown. Fernandez sighed and continued.
“The Phaeirn Royal Family is about to declare war on the Dane Kingdom. Can you handle it?”
“Those guys are just farmers!”
“Then the soldiers of the Dane Kingdom are just hillbilly weed-pickers. To be honest, even if the Phaeirn Royal Family isn’t in perfect condition, if a conflict starts now, we’ll suffer heavy losses.”
“…At least they won’t come out unscathed either.”
“I’m trying to prevent that. I want to stop the strength of both kingdoms from being wasted on such a conflict. For a greater war.”
“…The Fifty-Year War?”
“An even greater war than that.”
The greatest war of this era is the Fifty-Year War waged by the Empire. However, the time when the northern barbarians would begin their southern invasion was approaching. When the northern warriors led by the Black Erik began their invasion, the Eastern Kingdom Alliance was pushed to the brink of destruction.
At that time, if the Phaeirn Griffin Knights hadn’t risked their lives to directly strike Erik’s military encampment and hold the front line, and if the Dane Royal Family’s Knights of the Round Table hadn’t destroyed the enemy’s depth, the united front of the two kingdoms wouldn’t have been possible.
If that hadn’t happened, Erik would have eventually crushed the Eastern Kingdom Alliance. If the Empire had lost the Hundred-Year War as a result, and the Sultanate had fallen, who would have stopped the five thousand great tents of Karadskar?
The Infermur incident was, on a small scale, the fall of one elven royal family, but if it led to the Phaeirn Royal Family and the Dane Kingdom starting a conflict, it would be no different from the beginning of the Eastern Kingdom’s downfall in the grand scheme of things.
Such a thing must not happen. At least within the scope of what he could prevent, human civilization had to preserve its strength more fully than in its previous life.
If his blood was needed for that, then so be it. Fernandez stood up, his newly bandaged body dressed in a tunic. Baimeer looked up at him and spoke.
“The Phaeirn Royal Family is a great threat, but nothing can be fully prepared if we ignore the Church of the Underground Burial.”
“I was planning to handle that issue.”
“There’s someone you need to meet.”
As soon as his words ended, the inn door opened. A man in a thick robe stepped inside. When Fernandez looked at him, the man pushed back his hood.
His brilliant platinum hair shimmered under the inn’s lamplight, scattering light. The man smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming. Baimeer stood up and approached him, saying.
“Show your respect. This is the legitimate heir of this country, Prince Helga.”
“I heard you were being transported to the Vaitas Church for heresy interrogation. It’s a relief to see you in good health.”
The young man, Prince Helga, smiled brightly and extended his hand. He grasped Fernandez’s hand and said.
“Pleasure to meet you. Call me Vicente.”
‘Vicente? The Hero King Vicente?’
-At this time, he must be that guy’s father.
‘He’s a big shot.’
“Will you accompany me to the royal capital?”
“I would be honored to do so.”
Fernandez knelt on one knee and spoke. It’s a welcome thing. With the prince’s support behind him, his actions would be much smoother.
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