Chapter 358

“She’s not the one either. Get rid of her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Zigismund nodded slightly and sank into his chair. Since his baptism, fatigue had never touched his body, but his mind was accumulating weariness regardless.

He let out a long sigh and wiped his forehead.

“Your Highness, Lord Pavilos requests an audience.”

“Let him in.”

Zigismund rolled a wine glass in his hand and gazed beyond the tent. Soon, the curtain lifted, revealing a familiar face.

“Any progress?”

“We succeeded in luring out Shryke, but failed to track down the remnants. Your Highness.”

“How is that even possible? The Phaeirn Hunting School couldn’t track down that many people?”

“They are Inquisition Officers, Your Highness. Hunters are naturally skilled at tracking prey, but erasing traces is something they excel at, no less than the Hunting School.”

“I didn’t spend my time meeting you just to hear excuses, did I?”

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

Zigismund clicked his tongue and downed his drink. Karl glanced at him subtly, then bowed his head with a faint smile. He quickly composed himself and continued his report.

“But Your Highness, do not worry. They will never escape this kingdom.”

“Didn’t they scatter to the east and north from the Dragonspine Mountains? If they head east, fine, but if they go just a bit further north, they’ll reach Dane and Lesan. If they have any brains, wouldn’t they flee there?”

“The Goldenberg bats are searching the area. If they’re found… the hunt won’t be difficult.”

“I’ve ordered Lord Wolfstahl to assist you. If you find them, do not act rashly. Make sure to bring the Griffin Knights for the hunt. Go now.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Karl bowed deeply once more and retreated. As he turned to leave, a thick smile spread across his face. The tent’s curtain fell, and Karl glanced up at the night sky, muttering.

“Fools.”

The prince is a fool drunk on power. Covering his base desires with the guise of ambition, he wastes time in the middle of the battlefield with women, expensive wine, and gold. A fool useful only as a figurehead.

The Inquisition Officers are fools who believe their fanaticism is justice. If there’s a belief that has killed the most humans in this world, it’s religion. Those who claim to prevent mass slaughter by demons are themselves causing mass slaughter, refusing to let even a single demon go.

Shryke. A fool who claimed humans need neither gods nor demons, yet dances as a puppet for both. A pitiful fool who couldn’t bear his own contradictions and sank. Whether his drifting leads to ruin or voyage will be an amusing spectacle.

Eternal domination by the lord. True domination over this world is near. Zigismund is merely a stepping stone. When the Crimson King arrives, this world will burn eternally, and a thousand-year kingdom will rise from the ashes.

Using the only man who isn’t a fool as a symbol. He will become a testament to the end of the old era. The Crimson King watches over us.

“Praise be.”

Karl smirked and made the sign of the cross.

* * *

Autumn rain poured heavily over the rough seas of the North Sea. Fernandez stood, gazing endlessly at the foam created by waves crashing against the ship’s side.

-Screech!

The sound of the keel twisting as it rode the waves echoed. The Empire’s trade ship, having departed from Gur, was sailing straight toward the eastern part of the North Sea.

Aeren’s northern warriors were likely resting inside the fleet’s ships. The word “rest” felt oddly unfamiliar to them. Fernandez fiddled with the cold sword hilt and stared at the sea.

He wasn’t a man accustomed to the sea. But as it happened, most of his memories of the sea were of stormy nights, especially in the North Sea.

The battles with the Franzrit family. The fight against the Malerun royal family. Fierce clashes and life-or-death struggles. Every time he reminisced, his heart raced and began to pound.

His fingers twitched. There were no easy fights, and some battles cost lives. But absurdly, he missed the gap—the gap between life and death.

‘Damn it.’

Fernandez clicked his tongue briefly. From the moment he began to embody divinity, his existence gradually transcended the limits of matter and approached the realm of ideas. This was both a blessing and a curse. As his physical abilities surpassed those of mortals, he lost many things.

For example, emotions. The past was vibrant, but reality wasn’t. Memories belong to the realm of ideas. While emotions from recalling the past grow vivid, emotions toward reality grow numb.

A rift occurs as the spirit and soul grow. The spirit grows, but the soul and body, bound to the flesh, do not. Thus, emotions toward reality gradually fade.

This is a problem often felt when conversing with transcendent beings of high divinity. From a mortal’s perspective, immortals are “twisted” beings. Whether it’s emotion or sensitivity, some part of their psyche is vastly different from that of ordinary people.

They can be embarrassingly childish or frustratingly detached. Fernandez smiled bitterly as he gazed at the dark night sky.

The boundary was blurred on the sea at night during the rain. The horizon was smudged, and the black sea blended with the dark sky, undulating. There was no color in between. Only the white foam of the waves and the dark sea absorbing light.

Just like him now. Fernandez fiddled with the cold sword hilt. He missed Faijashi’s voice. In moments like these, he would suddenly appear and quietly comfort him.

It might sound ridiculous, but perhaps he was like a father. A being who carried the emotions of old age, sometimes ashamed of his youthful self driven by physical impulses, sometimes scolding, but always moving forward together.

‘I’m going crazy.’

Fernandez laughed as he gripped the sword hilt tightly. This level of self-love was excessive. Seeing himself as his own father might be an early sign of mental illness.

-Swish.

The greatsword was drawn from the hilt. The thick blade, wrapped in wind, felt twice as heavy as usual. Perhaps the heaviness was in his heart. Fernandez swung the sword fluidly, then quickly sheathed it, loosening his body.

Warmth returned to his cold body. Thump, thump. His heart raced. Recalling past enemies, he tilted the blade and slashed horizontally.

-Whoosh!

The cool sensation of cutting through the air didn’t satisfy him. Whether it was his unsettled mind or the heavy wind, the sword’s trajectory was slightly off. So, again.

-Whoosh!!

Better than the first strike. At that moment, Fernandez briefly thought back. To the time when his first battle began. When he returned to the Sernerd Territory and killed his cousins and uncle.

If he went back to that time, could he forgive them? He had used the excuse of an experiment, but in truth, it was closer to a long-desired revenge. A childish revenge for the abuse and humiliation of his childhood. Now, he felt nothing for them. If, by chance, he could return to that day, could he forgive them?

‘Of course.’

The hesitation was brief. Forgiveness? Ridiculous. The revenge of his childhood was a distant memory from over half a century ago, and they were too insignificant for him to slaughter directly.

-Whoosh!

So, cut it off. Once more, he raised the sword tip. Phaeirn’s Merlin Port. His second battle. Swinging while remembering his mentor, Gian-Kel. The sharp blade swept away raindrops, drawing a semicircle—

-Swish!

In an instant, the rainwater was swept away as if painted in the air. Fernandez exhaled briefly and sank into his memories. The third battle. The next battle. And the next…

From the moment he first opened his eyes in the remote forest outside the Sernerd Territory until now. Recalling every battle and the boundary between life and death, step by step, step by step.

-Screech…

What if, back then, that moment…








The burdens piled up. The blade trembled finely, carrying his emotions. At some point, like an auditory hallucination, the voice from his previous life surfaced.

‘Regret. Aria. I regret it.’

The low sob of an old mage, who had prided himself on living a life without regret, echoed endlessly in his ears at the final moment.

Clang, the blade dug into the deck and trembled. Fernandez, holding the sword hilt, bent over and gasped for breath. It wasn’t due to physical fatigue but the torrent of emotions. As his emotions in the present grew faint, memories of the past became increasingly vivid.

How much time had passed? Fernandez suddenly realized that raindrops no longer touched his head. Yet, the downpour continued on the deck.

Tsk, he clicked his tongue briefly and straightened his back. Perhaps because his emotions were heightened, he didn’t notice the presence approaching right behind him.

“Finally, you’re looking this way.”

“It’s late at night.”

“That’s what I wanted to say. Fernandez. It’s not good to get used to the rain. It’s a problem for laundry, hygiene, and, well, health too.”

“Haha…”

Fernandez chuckled. Would this body catch a cold just from being exposed to a bit of autumn rain and cold? Even after spending a considerable amount of time together, there were still aspects of this dragon’s jokes that were hard to understand.

He turned around and looked at Abel, who had approached. She was holding a large umbrella, sheltering Fernandez’s head. By tilting the umbrella to create shade, Abel’s own body was soaked by the rain.

“Aren’t you getting wet too?”

“Well… they say sharing halves the burden, don’t they?”

“Can’t you sleep?”

“Who could sleep with someone dancing with a sword on the deck?”

Abel smiled and folded the umbrella with a tap. Since both were already drenched, there was no point in holding it.

“Your blade is trembling. That’s unlike you.”

“Some days are like that.”

“Magic and swordsmanship are similar yet different. They’re alike in that they evoke imagery to create phenomena, but they differ in whether you control emotions with reason or release reason emotionally.”

Abel spoke softly, as if singing, and placed her hand on Fernandez’s hand. Her white, soft fingers delicately brushed his rough hand. It felt like the rain was sticking them together like glue.

Soon, her fingers tightened. Naturally, Fernandez gripped the sword hilt. Slowly, as she gestured to draw the sword, Fernandez followed her lead without resistance, lifting the sword.

Abel held him from behind and extended the sword upward.

“So, when you hold the sword, don’t treat it like magic, Fernandez. I know nothing about magic, but I’m quite skilled in swordsmanship, aren’t I?”

The blade spun and took an upper stance. Fernandez merely adjusted his grip on the hilt and slightly changed his posture, following Abel’s gestures. Her voice continued in his ear.

“Again, you’re doing it again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your blade is shaking. It’s not because your strength is too much or too little. It’s because your heart is troubled.”

Her fingers tightened. Abel gripped his hand firmly, as if asserting her presence.

“Your heart is adrift. Your chest is beating fast, and your skin is hot. Even though your body is complete, your heart is not.”

“Then what should I do?”

Abel is an ancient dragon. A dragon who has wielded swords among humans for a long time. In the distant past, closer to myth, she was a master swordsman who personally trained the king of knights.

She seemed to read people’s hearts just by the direction and posture of their sword grip, the movement of the blade. Or perhaps it was just her experience. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Except that her words hit close to the mark.

In response to Fernandez’s question, Abel’s low laughter was heard.

“This is something taught to a child holding a sword for the first time, but, well, it has its charm… Now, Fernandez. What is the value of swordsmanship?”

“To cut down the opponent.”

“That’s why mages are like this. Wrong. Swordsmanship is a means to reach a goal. Your blade is troubled because you’ve lost your goal, haven’t you?”

“That’s…”

A wild guess. The words he was about to say stuck in his throat, rolling around in his mouth for a while. Abel loosened her grip slightly and spoke.

“What is your goal?”

The whereabouts of the fourth archangel, the final defeat of the great demon, the advent of the reverse heaven, no, that’s not it. My son… that poor, extinguished young soul… But reaching that thought, fear surged ahead.

‘Ana…’

Now he has a daughter. A daughter he didn’t have in his previous life. The reverse heaven is a grand spell that overlays this world’s information and souls onto the main world. So, where does the information that doesn’t exist in the main world go?

Thus, if the reverse heaven succeeds, what will happen to Ana? Will she disappear? Merge with another being? Or remain as she is now?

Ana’s existence is the perfect opposite of his son. If his son exists after the reverse heaven, Ana cannot. Therefore, Fernandez’s goal was heading towards a cruel either-or choice.

He forced himself to look away. Making excuses about having too many immediate tasks. That it’s not worth touching problems that won’t yield answers even if pondered, spouting such clichéd excuses.

Yet, amidst emotions dulled by divine accumulation, there was one emotion that burned brightly: paternal love. Love for Ana. Fernandez’s sword trembled.

“I don’t want to regret.”

So this was his true heart. When the old mage, who prided himself on living without regret, died in regret. From the moment he swore to live without regret after being reborn.

Now, not just the sword, but his voice trembled finely. He didn’t want to regret. He didn’t want to be buried in that terrible emotion again. Once was enough. No, once was already too much.

He didn’t want to hear his dying son’s voice again. No… he didn’t want to hear the voice of a ‘child’ dying while still alive. That was all. A wish too simple for a villain trying to bring about the world’s destruction.

At that moment, Abel’s hand, holding his, tightened. Amid the subsiding rain, her voice seemed soaked with moisture.

“Do you regret your life so far?”

He could answer this clearly. No. I don’t regret. He had done his best every moment, achieving the best possible outcomes. The years built up like that. Years denser than the decades of his past life. Even if reborn, he wouldn’t make better choices.

If, at that time. The words piled up in his heart began to break apart one by one. Even if he went back now, he might be more skilled, but it wouldn’t be much different. Ultimately, he would run again. In some way or another.

The vividly burning emotions of the past gradually faded. Like the rain subsiding and the clouds clearing. Abel slowly guided Fernandez’s arm, extending the sword.

“That’s enough. That is the basics of the sword—.”

-Swish…

The sword sang a sharp note. The sword, extended outward, drew a gentle arc towards the sky.

“And also the end of the sword.”

To move towards the goal. The basics and the end of the sword. As Abel’s words ended, the blade softly caressed the sky. Through the parting clouds, a blue moon rose.

Color returned to the night sky. The moon fell like a curtain through the cracks in the clouds, and between them, clusters of red, yellow, and occasionally blue stars twinkled.

Abel guided Fernandez’s hand to sheathe the sword and smiled. She reached out towards the star clusters visible behind the clouds and spoke. Her hand lightly rested on his shoulder.

“Since the mood is like this, I want to ask one more thing. Fernandez. Answer me seriously this time.”

“…What is it?”

“Do you remember what you said once in the distant northern land? Half the stars in the night sky, half of that half, even if it’s just half of that…?”

With a twist, Abel turned Fernandez’s head towards her. Having been so close just before, the distance between them was close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“Think of me.”

Her golden hair, damp with moisture, settled calmly. On the night sea, which had been entirely monochrome until now, she shone brightly like a lighthouse.

Fernandez laughed like a boy and took another step closer without answering. For a brief moment, their breaths mingled. He lightly stepped back and smiled at Abel, who was still dazedly touching her lips.

“That’s my answer.”

“Really… you’re annoyingly skilled.”

He silently laughed, picked Abel up, and headed towards the cabin.