It Begins with Isaac Chapter 21.1

As soon as the Emperor, who had been unconscious for a week due to a chronic illness, awoke, his first command was to gather the imperial family. Summoning all four of his children, the Grand Duke, Valery, and even distant relatives, the Emperor’s complexion was visibly poor at a glance. Since his chronic illness, which had previously caused only mild discomfort, had taken a severe turn, the Emperor had meticulously concealed himself. Looking at the Emperor, now transformed into an old man on the brink of death, Valery understood why he had not appeared with his children at the forefront.

The Emperor no longer looked like an Emperor. Who would revere an old man, unable to even support his own body, with a lifeless face like a withered wooden puppet, as an Emperor?

Bride attended to the Emperor with utmost care, moving diligently by his side. Whenever the Emperor showed the slightest sign of discomfort, she swiftly approached, offering cool water and wiping his cold sweat with a handkerchief. Her actions effectively blocked Dius, who lingered nearby hoping to gain the Emperor’s favor. Even the Fourth Prince and Fifth Princess, who lived outside the palace after starting their own families, stood awkwardly, unable to exchange proper words with their father, whom they had not seen in a long time. Valery, with an expressionless face, observed them before shifting his gaze to the Grand Duke, seated near Dius with a chair positioned beside him.

Since sending the Grand Duke to the capital villa, Valery had not checked on him further. He received reports through Zenyard a couple of times a day, nothing more. Reports of the Grand Duke occasionally succumbing to uncontrollable anger and lashing out were unremarkable. It was the same rage Valery had witnessed countless times in his life with the Grand Duke. The Grand Duke had always been furious with Valery. Since losing his legs, Valery’s very existence had become a trigger for his rage, like a spark to kindling.

Each time their eyes met or their gazes crossed, the Grand Duke could not contain his anger. As Valery’s physique grew stronger and his stature increased day by day, as Valery’s name was mentioned more often than the Grand Duke’s, as more people followed Valery, the Grand Duke’s petty resentment grew larger with each passing day.

From childhood, Valery had endured the Grand Duke’s violence under the guise of training and discipline, processing it like a regimen. When he was very young and unaccustomed to violence, often knocked down by those large fists, the Grand Duke’s word was law in Valery’s life. To Valery, the Grand Duke was a superior. Born a soldier from the moment of his birth, Valery did not resist the Grand Duke’s unjust treatment, even as a superior. Even when those fists no longer hurt, even when the Grand Duke’s flinch at Valery’s upright gaze was impossible to hide and laughable, the Grand Duke remained the Commander-in-Chief, and Valery his subordinate.

However, when the Grand Duke, leveraging his rank, struck Asil’s cheek, Valery was consumed by an irrational urge to punch the Grand Duke’s face, grab his collar, and shake him until he could no longer act arrogantly. Had Asil not intervened, news of the Grand Duke being killed by his heir would have uproariously swept through the entire Empire. Valery had nearly broken the absolute rule of obedience to superiors, which he had rigorously enforced among his subordinates.

Perhaps sensing Valery’s gaze, the Grand Duke, who had been looking at his siblings, turned his eyes sharply. Spotting Valery, his face contorted with disgust, as if he had seen something horrific. When Valery raised his glass with a slight smile, the Grand Duke’s face flushed red in an instant. Gripping the wheels of his wheelchair tightly, the Grand Duke clenched his teeth. Dius, having just managed to offer a greeting to the Emperor, approached the Grand Duke’s side. Inserting himself between the Grand Duke and Valery, who were exchanging glances, Dius gave Valery a nod before leaning down to whisper something briefly to the Grand Duke.

Valery had stationed people around the Grand Duke’s estate to prevent contact with Dius, but there seemed to have been a gap. For a reunion after a long time, they appeared quite close. Above all, their conversation was incessant. As Valery observed the two whispering endlessly, Bride approached silently.

“What is this? You said you were monitoring them.”

“It seems they slipped through.”

“Hmm. Well…”

Bride recalled the Emperor’s lukewarm response to Dius’s greeting. She did not want to jump to conclusions, but an unavoidable sense of expectation quietly grew. As Bride, following Valery’s lead, focused her gaze on the Grand Duke and Dius, a clear sound of clinking glass echoed through the hall. The Emperor, snatching a penholder from an attendant, noisily struck a glass. The sound, drawing attention, caused scattered gazes to converge on the Emperor’s seat at the head of the room.

“The reason I have gathered you all here is none other, ahem… than this.”

The Emperor’s throat seemed to catch, as he repeatedly cleared it with coughs. The coughing did not subside easily. As the sound of phlegm grew louder, the atmosphere in the hall became solemn, and a thick layer of fatigue settled over the Emperor’s face.

“I, ahem! have foolishly caused confusion in the Empire and the imperial family…”

“Your Majesty, foolish? Never!”

An elderly distant relative, whose name was barely recalled, raised his voice, wiping tears. The Emperor gave a small smile toward the old man and beckoned an attendant. Soon, a scribe approached with papers in hand.

“While wandering in dreams, I received numerous omens. For the Empire to exist so gloriously, watching over us…”

The Emperor was relatively devout. Though the imperial family and faith had been separated for a long time, leaving few devout members in the imperial household, the Emperor often made time to personally visit civilian temples, showing dedication to the Empire’s main deity. During his time bedridden, that faith seemed to have grown thicker, as he rambled on with vague, priest-like stories.

“I am no longer the Emperor that He desires. I am old and ill. It is time to step down… Yes, He told me so.”

Bride, staring at the Emperor’s lips as if entranced, was visibly tense, but Valery lowered his head, letting out a strange sound—a faint scoff-like snort.

“Bride.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

“He has chosen you.”

“Your Majesty!”

The moment Bride’s name was called, Dius, who had been fidgeting with anticipation, cried out in shock. Ignoring his son’s voice, the Emperor fixed his gaze on Bride. She stood abruptly, quickly approaching the head seat. Kneeling before the Emperor, she gripped his wrinkled hand firmly. Her cheeks twitched with subtle excitement as she looked up at him.

“Prepare for the coronation. It is time for this father to rest.”

“…Yes.”

“And do not forget to pay respects to Him.”

Bride, an atheist with not a speck of faith, was, in that moment, more devout than anyone in the Empire. She nodded, pressing her forehead to the back of the Emperor’s hand. Whispering that she would head to the temple to give thanks, she spared no effort to please her father.

The Emperor stroked his daughter’s head once and read aloud the papers held by the scribe for all to see. The document declared Bride as his successor, with the throne to be abdicated before the next year. Valery quietly observed Dius, trembling with a dazed expression, and the Grand Duke, barely managing a stiff face. Caught off guard by the unexpected shock, they revealed their dismay, unaware of the observing gaze. Indeed, it was a resolute decision that left no room for reconsideration. At first glance, it seemed as though a delirious Emperor, clouded by illness, had chosen Bride for nonsensical reasons citing omens, but the pre-prepared document spoke to his firm resolve.

If Bride became Emperor, ousting the Grand Duke from his position as Commander-in-Chief would be far simpler. Valery’s face relaxed for the first time in a while. Once everything was settled, he would leave the bustling capital for the frontier for a time. Asil, not suited for the quiet administrative work of the capital, would thrive in barracks life, given his knack for physical tasks. Naturally envisioning a detailed future with Asil, Valery’s lips stiffened as he recalled one constraint.

Only about ten days remained until the promised date. Valery grew increasingly anxious day by day. Hope and the worst possible outcomes alternated in tormenting him. Just when things seemed smooth, seeing Asil blankly staring out a window with an unreadable expression made his heart sink as if plunging into an abyss. Things were undeniably smoother than before, so why did he feel so uneasy?

“He has nowhere else to go.”

Yes, Asil had nowhere else to go. Valery had dismantled the family Asil could have clung to. Kana, with whom he no longer kept in touch, was now no different from a stranger, and Graim, living on a remote island attending school, only sent occasional perfunctory letters. Even if Asil left after the deadline, where would he go?

Though uncertain about other things, Asil’s resolve to live as a soldier was clear. The best way for him to live as a perfect soldier was to stay by Valery’s side. If Valery became Commander-in-Chief, he could pave Asil’s chosen path smoothly, without a single hitch. Thus, if Asil coldly assessed the situation and made a decision, he would not rashly leave. Valery consoled himself with this, but the anxiety did not dissipate; instead, it fragmented and multiplied.

Asil needed more reasons to stay by his side. No, Valery knew deep down that it was not about needing more reasons. Only one reason was desperately needed—the sole way for Asil to choose to stay by Valery’s side of his own will.

“If only he…”

Valery let out a small sigh, a habit that had grown frequent. The more time passed, the more he was consumed by overwhelming helplessness. Until now, he had only observed situations. Sitting at the highest perch, watching those below scramble fiercely, he would make decisions as he pleased. Since meeting Asil, he found himself repeatedly thrust into such predicaments. He could never get used to merely hoping for things to go smoothly.

Rising from his seat as the atmosphere signaled the end, Valery headed toward Asil, waiting outside the palace. Imagining Asil waiting just for him, Valery’s steps quickened. Striding through the vast palace almost at a run, he reached Asil’s location and stopped abruptly.

There it was again. That look. Leaning against the car, staring blankly at the sky, his gaze fixed on one spot, heedless of the passing clouds. A clear, resolute gaze, as if there were only one answer. Those impenetrable eyes that daily delivered heaps of frustration and anxiety to Valery.

“How about dinner before heading back?”

Standing a short distance from Asil, Valery asked quietly. The distant gaze slowly drew closer.

“Something you like.”

As soon as Valery finished speaking, Asil nodded readily. “Sounds good.” His voice was calm. Even as Valery approached, Asil did not step back. Pushed gently into the car, he opened the window and mumbled about the food he wanted.

That was why. That was why Valery could not remain in despair. Because of Asil, who responded to his words with a pleasant voice; because of Asil, who noticed sweat dripping from his temple and asked if he was hot; because of Asil, who casually fanned him and handed over a water bottle. Valery could not help but hold onto hope. He wanted to sternly reprimand himself for clinging to such shabby expectations and force himself to be detached, but when Asil smiled softly and readily answered his questions, Valery was filled with a dreamy certainty, like a gambler squandering his fortune on impossible odds. Perhaps Asil would, would…

Love him. That kind of certainty.

The grandest temple in Markna was located in the suburbs, far from the city center. Driving out of the city and crossing the fields for about thirty minutes, a majestic temple built of white marble gradually came into view. Surrounded by fields with no residences nearby, the temple stood tall, bustling with people who had come to pray.

Three days earlier, news of the Emperor’s illness had spread throughout the Empire. Rumors also circulated that the Second Princess Bride would personally visit the grand temple to hold a ceremony for the Emperor. This was also a subtle way of revealing the designated successor. Perhaps having camped out in front of the temple to catch the news, disheveled reporters stood around with cameras.

Imperial citizens who came to pray for the Emperor also awaited the princess, who might soon become Emperor. Soon, a car, rare except among royalty, high nobles, or senior officers, pulled up to the temple. From the several vehicles, the first to step out were none other than Valery, Asil, and Cain. The reporters, aiming cameras at Valery, shrank back from his cold glare and slipped into the crowd.

“Lord Valery! Lord Valery!”

Recognizing Valery, imperial citizens cheered his name. Waving handkerchiefs from a distance, unable to approach, they erupted into even louder cheers when Bride appeared. Unlike Valery’s tepid demeanor, Bride, beaming with a warm smile, waved back in greeting.

“Your Highness, welcome.”

Priests waiting at the temple entrance bowed to welcome Bride. She nodded and followed them inside. Valery, Asil, Cain, and Bride’s other close aides trailed her into the temple. A young priest inside the entrance extended his hand toward the group. Valery naturally drew his gun and placed it on the silver tray the priest offered.

The temple considered weapons like knives and guns impure. Unaware of this, Asil hesitated briefly, but when the priest insistently held out the tray, he followed Valery and Cain, who had complied, and handed over the pistol strapped to his thigh. Only then did the priest, who had been standing at an angle, smile and step aside to clear the way.

The interior, cleared in advance for the princess to conduct the ceremony quietly, was silent and devoid of people. A soft, faint chant of prayers echoed through the solemn hall.

“Everyone has been cleared out, so you may conduct the ceremony in peace.”

As the heavy door slammed shut, the noisy outside sounds were instantly silenced. Asil looked up at the impossibly high, vast ceiling. An old, weathered figure of the main deity, leaning on a staff, gazed down at him. The vivid statue, as if a living old man had been carved and hung on the ceiling, held Asil’s gaze. Sunlight streamed through a glass window at the ceiling’s peak, illuminating the figure brightly. It was a holy scene.

While Bride exchanged greetings with the priest, Asil, stealing glances at the ceiling, locked eyes with a young man standing on the second-floor balcony. The moment their gazes met, the young man quickly lowered his eyes and disappeared beyond the railing. Though his appearance seemed familiar, Asil could not place him. An uneasy feeling lingered, and as he kept looking up at the balcony, Valery, standing beside him and watching, spoke.

“What is it? See something?”

“No… I thought I saw someone familiar…”

As Asil trailed off, Bride, finishing her conversation with the priest, turned around. She took a wooden box from an attendant and handed it to the priest.

“These are His Majesty’s clothes and gold… Is it alright to use these for the ceremony?”

“Of course, Your Highness. I will place them on the altar.”

In front of the hall, lined with wooden chairs for worshippers to pray, stood a large marble altar. Bride placed the box on the door-sized altar and listened to the priest’s instructions. It had been over a decade since Bride last visited the temple. Since growing up, she had avoided temple visits with various excuses. Unfamiliar with the ceremony’s procedures, she asked question after question about confusing parts. Watching Bride struggle, Valery muttered that it would take at least another hour, clicking his tongue softly. Fortunately, she was too focused on the priest’s explanations to immediately catch his whisper, though she irritably asked what he said a few seconds later.

Valery, a habitual smoker who puffed at regular intervals, rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a cigar. Instead of putting it in his mouth, he tilted his head toward a young priest, who looked pale and restless. Shaking the cigar between his fingers, the priest sighed deeply and pointed to the second-floor balcony.

“There is a room at the end of the corridor. It has a large window, so please keep it out of sight…”

Still tilting his head and glancing at the balcony, Asil seized the moment to follow Valery. He felt that meeting the person again would jog his memory. Normally, he would have let it go, but today, an obsessive curiosity gnawed at him, making him uneasy. Valery, noticing Asil following, playfully muttered, “What, want a puff?” Asil, knowing Valery was well aware he did not smoke, shrugged off his attempt to start a conversation.

“I am going to the restroom.”

Reaching the second-floor corridor, Asil resisted the urge to fling open every door. Unable to act recklessly in the temple over mere curiosity, he followed Valery into the room at the corridor’s end. As the door thudded shut, Valery put the cigar in his mouth and flung open the window. Blowing out gray smoke, he looked at Asil with a sullen gaze.

“You said you were going to the restroom.”

“I am fine now.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Well, I cannot quite remember… I am sure I have seen them somewhere.”

“Then they are probably not that important to you. Is it worth checking?”

For once, he was right. It was not worth the attention. Swallowing the suspicious unease rising within, Asil nodded.

“Yes… The smoke is coming this way.”

“I did it on purpose. Out of spite.”

“What?”

“I am protesting because it feels shitty to see you looking for someone else in front of me.”

Valery sucked deeply on the cigar and blew the smoke toward Asil. Though the action seemed playful, his eyes were dark. The cigar, made from fine leaves, had a fragrant smoke that felt expensive, but to Asil’s nose, it was sharp and acrid. Despite trying to endure, coughs burst out repeatedly. When Asil’s coughing showed no sign of stopping, Valery stubbed the cigar on the windowsill and waved his hand carelessly. After letting the smoke out, he closed the window and looked at Asil, who stood by the door, glaring disapprovingly.

“Why are your eyes so mean?”

“When did I… Are you not going back down?”

What are mean eyes? Asil raised a hand to touch his eye area. Rubbing the wrinkled skin near his eyes and changing the subject, Valery turned his gaze away, pulled out a new cigar, and put it in his mouth. This time, he did not light it, merely chewing on it for a while. Pacing restlessly by the window, Valery suddenly asked Asil, who was looking at him with questioning eyes, without even time to compose his anxious, cracked expression.

“If you leave me, what will you do?”

Asil doubted his ears. Wide-eyed, he waited for more, but Valery only moved the cigar from his lips to his hand, staring at him.

Until now, Valery and Asil had never discussed what would happen to their relationship after the month ended. Valery had been busy trying to win Asil’s favor in various ways, focusing on actions over words. Learning from the opera that Asil had no interest in cultural arts, Valery recalled their horseback riding and shifted his approach.

Taking Asil to a lake known for its deep, clear waters, Valery abruptly threw him in. Asil, who had followed far to investigate suspicious activity, surfaced drenched from head to toe. Dressed in his full uniform for duty, Asil thrashed in the water, fuming. Stripping off his heavy, soaked jacket and throwing it at Valery, it landed with a wet thud on the wooden bridge.

“Why are you doing this all of a sudden!”

Asil shouted in protest. Valery, smirking at the curly hair plastered to Asil’s pale face like seaweed, began unbuttoning his own jacket. Kicking off his heavy boots, he dove toward Asil, who was swimming to climb onto the bridge. Splash! The water’s surface broke with a spray as his heavy body hit, creating white foam. Pushed by the wave, Asil sank under the water and resurfaced.

Choking on the sudden gulp of water, his eyes and nose stung. Wiping his dripping face, Asil looked incredulously at Valery, who was grabbing his arm.

“What are you doing during duty?”

“It is too hot. I need to cool off.”

“Just rest in the shade, ah! The water is splashing!”

Valery scooped the water, splashing it onto Asil’s face. Asil, who had just wiped his face, fled toward the lake’s center as water droplets gathered around his eyes again. Checking if Valery was following, he saw him laughing loudly, leisurely kicking his feet and swimming elsewhere.

They swam for a long time. The lake, shaded by thick trees, shielded them from the scorching summer sun. Playing in the cool water, Asil’s initial irritation faded, replaced by a cheerful hum. Humming, he dove deep, admiring the lake’s bottom. Far ahead, long legs floated languidly.

Normally, he would not have, but perhaps because the oppressive heat of recent days had finally lifted, a playful impulse surged in his refreshed mood. Swimming forward smoothly, Asil grabbed Valery’s ankle and yanked him down. Caught off guard, Valery’s face plunged underwater, and he squinted down. His furrowed brows and distorted eyes softened instantly upon spotting Asil, playfully pursing his lips while holding his ankle. Despite his face being dunked unexpectedly, he looked genuinely delighted. As his happy, softened eyes met Asil’s, an inexplicable shyness made Asil quietly release the ankle.

Next came an odd ball game. Realizing Asil had little interest in the garden’s flowers, Valery, uncharacteristically shocked, pondered and cleared out the flowerbeds, digging several small holes in their place. Explaining that the goal was to hit a small ball into the holes with a long stick, Asil swung his arm willingly.

It sounded easy, but in practice, no matter how many times he swung, the ball veered off course. Stubbornly refusing to leave until he succeeded, Asil sweated profusely. Watching quietly, Valery approached, placing hands on Asil’s shoulder and hand, gently kneading to relax the tension.

“You do not need to use much force.”

“…”

“Like this… See, it went in.”

Holding Asil’s hand, Valery applied slight force to hit the ball. The ball, rolling much slower than before, went straight into the narrow hole. After an hour of futile effort, seeing the ball easily conquer the hole reignited Asil’s competitive spirit. Turning sharply, he found Valery close behind, gripping his shoulders. As Asil turned, their faces were very close, but blinded by competitiveness, Asil muttered curtly, oblivious to Valery’s trembling eyes.

“I will get it in on my own.”

“…Alright.”

Valery, gazing at Asil’s faintly flushed face, slowly withdrew his hands and stepped back. Asil failed several more times but, with unyielding determination, mastered the technique by dusk, successfully sinking the ball on his own. As it dropped into the hole, Asil jumped with joy.

“Did you see that?”

Beaming, Asil faced Valery, who was greedily scanning his face with a dazed look, and gradually stiffened his smile. Wiping off the awkward grin, Asil tossed the stick aside. “That is enough for today,” he muttered, lifting his shirt to wipe his sweat-soaked face. Valery’s eyes then shifted to Asil’s firm, pale abdomen. Asil quickly lowered his shirt. Wanting to scold Valery for staring, he knew Valery would cheekily ask what kind of eyes, so he held back.

Turning, Asil picked up the ball from the hole. He felt Valery’s persistent gaze busily tracing his back, visible through the soaked shirt. Finally, Asil spoke.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“What kind of eyes are those?”

The response was as expected.

“Perverted eyes.”

Rubbing his eyes, Valery groaned softly and smiled. He did not deny his gaze. It continued until Asil changed his shirt.

“…I do not know.”

Recalling those brief moments, Asil, startled by the sudden question, answered honestly. He knew Valery had not wasted the month he had secured under the guise of an opportunity. Instead of pleading with words, he showed it through actions.

Asil had once caught Valery secretly pressuring Cain to find activities Asil might enjoy. When Cain, shamelessly asking various questions, approached, Asil answered as if unaware. When asked what flowers he liked, Asil seized the chance to say he did not know or care about flowers, only to find the garden cleared hours later, prompting a wry laugh.

He consistently followed Valery’s suggestions. At times, he indulged in the enjoyment the situations offered. But simultaneously, Asil saw reality clearly and coldly. Such fleeting pleasures could not be reasons to stay by Valery’s side. He did not want to give Valery false hope. In the past, he might have said insincere things for cheap thrills, but now, he lacked the zeal to toy with Valery’s expectations.

Valery’s sincerity was becoming increasingly burdensome. There was no need to dissect it to determine its truth. Though he could ignore it, he could not be unaware. The emotion Valery harbored was clear in his eyes. An emotion so heavy it crushed Valery entirely. An emotion visible with every glance. A vague fear that he, too, might one day be crushed by its weight slowly seeped into Asil.

“I want to go to the frontier. If I get assigned there, I will probably…”

“…”

“Stay here, Colonel. If we do not cross paths, you here and me there…”

It will be fine. Asil trailed off. Unable to look at Valery, he quietly averted his gaze. His heart felt heavy. Guilt? To think he felt responsible for him. It was absurd, but no laughter came. Asil no longer felt like denying this version of himself. Everything was a mess. Not just one thing—everything was broken, and he could not pinpoint what was wrong. Valery, himself, this conversation—all a disaster.

“Today is not… ahem, not the last day.”

“…Yes.”

“You do not need to decide so firmly.”

Asil’s gaze, lingering on the floor, climbed back to Valery’s face. Though he smiled nonchalantly, his eyes trembled with fragile anxiety. Valery strode forward, grasping Asil’s hands. Holding both hands, he spoke. Asil, looking up, realized why Valery had asked such a question.

He was gripped by intense anxiety. His heart, constricted by fear, swayed precariously with nervous anticipation. Unable to control his emotions, Valery’s final threads of patience were being worn away by the dwindling days.

“There is still time. A few days, but still time, right?”

“…”

“You cannot give up already, Asil…”

Valery gathered Asil’s hands and raised them. Burying his forehead in the rounded knuckles, he murmured Asil’s name. His whispering lips brushed the skin. Feeling the tickle, Asil shrugged. Unable to push away Valery, who had buried his head in his hands, Asil watched silently. Then, someone knocked loudly on the door. Valery’s lips parted, and Asil, whose fingers had been trembling, blinked rapidly.

“Yes!”

Asil raised his voice and quickly stepped to open the door. As it swung open, their eyes met. The familiar face that had sparked unease. The young man, spotting Asil, instantly pressed close. Before Asil could push away the uncomfortably close figure, a sharp object pressed against his abdomen. The pointed dagger’s tip was vividly felt through the fabric. Asil slowly lowered his eyes to the blade aimed at the center of his abdomen.

“What are you doing?”

Valery, heading to the window to light another cigar, asked in a puzzled tone. The silent closeness seemed odd, and the sound of footsteps approached the door. Asil spoke slowly. As his lips parted, he felt the blade pressing harder against his abdomen.

“It seems Her Highness is looking for you. Am I right?”

“…Yes.”

“Finish smoking and come down slowly. I will go ahead.”

Without waiting for Valery’s reply, Asil pushed the young man and stepped out. The blade painfully pricked his skin, but ignoring it, Asil slammed the door behind him. Facing the tense young man, Asil finally recognized him.

“His Highness is quite harsh.”

At Asil’s murmur, the pressure of the blade intensified. Now, it pierced through his uniform, coldly grazing his skin. Among the servants at the Grand Duke’s estate, nervously watching as Valery and the Grand Duke hurled cutlery and tore into each other, this young man was one of them. His notably youthful face had vaguely lingered in Asil’s memory, and facing him directly, his identity came easily.

“He is not just a servant.”

The way he gripped the knife and the body pressing against Asil were extraordinary. The solid physique, honed through rigorous training, was evident in the contact. The precise control of force as Asil twisted slightly was near perfect.

“Do you think you can take down the Colonel alone?”

“…You are mistaken. Would His Highness allow the sole heir of the Grand Duke’s house to disappear? The life His Highness wants is not his.”

“…”

“Lord Valery is quite fond of you, is he not? Not typical of him… His Highness noticed how much he was shaken.”

“…”

“His Highness believes your death will serve as a good warning to him.”

His Highness cannot tolerate insolence, the young man muttered like a sigh. Asil’s eyes rolled downward. The young man’s fingers, gripping the knife’s handle, were white, and his wrist and forearm bulged with effort. At that moment, Asil swiftly twisted, striking the young man’s wrist with all his strength.

Intending to knock the knife away, he either misaimed or struck too weakly, as the blade remained in the young man’s grip. The knife swung several times, slicing the air. Asil, backed against the door, was gradually pushed toward the railing. The young man, smirking faintly, looked at Asil, precariously leaning back against the railing. As he swiftly thrust the knife downward, Asil, instead of dodging, grabbed the young man’s wrist tightly.

“Ugh!”

His bent back ached sharply. Wondering if letting the blade nick him to counterattack during a pause was better, he doubted the young man’s boldness, armed only with a dagger. The blade, trembling inches from Asil’s face, was held back by his strength. Asil quietly studied it. Could it be poisoned? Even a small cut would be a gamble. If cut, he could not predict how his body would react. Even Valery, with his massive frame, had collapsed instantly from a poisoned blade…

“Your strength is impressive… Hoo.”

The force pressing down and the effort to block the blade while avoiding falling over the railing were unequal. The blade’s tip inched closer to his face. Asil gritted his teeth, hands trembling. For a few seconds, he considered shouting for help but hesitated. Without knowing if the young man was alone or if others lurked, acting rashly was risky. He could endanger the priests.

“If it just grazes the skin…”

Resolved, Asil released the wrist. The recoiling blade immediately descended toward his face. Whipping his head to the right, Asil endured the searing pain at his ear and lifted his foot, kicking the young man’s abdomen hard. The young man stumbled back, crashing into the door with a thud. As Asil, straightening his bent back, advanced toward the young man scrambling for the dropped knife, the door, splintered from the impact, burst open.

“What is this?”

Valery scanned the young man kneeling in the corridor, clutching the knife, and Asil, standing near the railing with a bloodied ear. His judgment was swift. Valery stomped on the knife-holding hand with a brutal thud. The young man, hand crushed under hard boots, let out a short groan and curled up.

“What is it, you bastard?”

Stomping the hand as if crushing a cigarette butt, Valery kicked the protruding knife far away.

“Hah…”

Giving the bloodied hand a final kick, he turned to Asil, whose torn earlobe had soaked his neck and shoulder in blood.

“Turn away for a second!”

Asil, pressing his earlobe to stop the bleeding, watched Valery approach, then noticed the young man, staggering to his feet, fumbling under his shoe sole.

“Colonel!”

From the young man’s hand emerged a tiny, toy-like pistol. Not for sniping but devastating in close combat. The young man aimed it at Asil, and Valery, hearing the sharp call, turned. And Asil…

Bang!

The gunshot was not singular. Multiple shots rang out, and two figures, entangled on the second-floor balcony, plummeted rapidly.

Meanwhile, Bride’s party had been forcibly ignoring a sound tickling their ears. The noise of something hard being struck and something splintering faintly echoed amid the lively prayers. At times, it sounded like a heated argument.

At the high priest’s suggestion that many joining the ceremony would be beneficial, not only Bride but the entire party had their eyes closed, leaving no one to trace the sound’s source. During prayers, it was customary to clasp hands, close eyes, and silently recite the priest’s chants. This was a ceremony for the Emperor’s health, so even the slightest impurity was avoided. They only trembled their eyelids, unable to open their eyes out of curiosity.

“Who is causing such a commotion?”

The high priest, hiding his displeasure, raised his voice further. Desperate to identify the culprit, he could not break the ceremony’s unspoken rule, especially as the grand temple’s high priest. Had someone opened their eyes and looked up to the second floor, the situation might have been different. Unfortunately, they focused on following the high priest’s shouted prayers.

Bang!

The gunshot made Cain the first to open his eyes. The only soldier in the praying group, he instantly recognized the all-too-familiar sound. Had the priest holding the weapons caused a misfire? Looking toward the entrance where the priest stood, another shot rang out from a different direction. Cain snapped his head up with unmatched speed.

“Damn it!”

A shocked exclamation burst from Cain’s lips. By then, everyone had lifted their heads toward the second-floor balcony.

“Colonel!”

Cain shouted, leaping from his seat. Before he could fully rise, two figures, precariously balanced on the railing, tangled complexly and slid downward. The high priest, who had been vigorously chanting, screamed, calling out to the deity. The serene statue on the ceiling offered no response.

No one could prevent the horrific fall. They could only watch. The sight of familiar figures striding toward death.

With a deafening crash, far louder than the gunshots, Bride screamed.

“Valery!”

The first thing Asil felt was the large body cushioning his entire frame. It was soft and thick, providing a sense of stability as if lying on a bed, yet firm enough to make his chest feel uncomfortably constricted. Next came the dull pain spreading from his torso and the throbbing ache in his ankle. Then, the sensation of a hand tightly cradling the back of his head slowly slipping away, and finally, the unpleasant feeling of liquid soaking his chest.

“…Colonel.”

Asil moved his lips, looking down at the figure pinned beneath him. Struggling to lift his trembling body, he saw Valery’s abdomen, drenched in blood, at a glance. A bullet had pierced through his back and exited the center of his stomach, staining his upper body entirely with blood. Blood oozed from Valery’s back, trickling onto the temple floor, forming streams. It was as if a red river were overflowing. An immeasurable amount of blood.

Asil sensed someone approaching quickly, but his gaze remained fixed on Valery, unable to detach. Cain, reaching them, grabbed Asil’s shoulder and pushed him aside. Asil shook him off, hesitantly placing his hands on Valery’s abdomen. Pressing his trembling palms, which shook his shoulders, firmly against the ceaselessly bleeding stomach, he pushed down. His chest, possibly fractured from the fall, caused excruciating pain with each exertion, but Asil’s grip on Valery’s abdomen only grew stronger.

Confirming that Asil was effectively controlling the bleeding, Cain rushed to the second floor. Bride had already retrieved weapons from a priest and ascended. The priests moved in unison to fetch emergency medical supplies. In the suddenly empty hall, only the two blood-soaked figures remained.

“Colonel, Colonel…”

Valery’s eyes were closed. Having embraced Asil tightly during the fall, his body crashing fully onto the marble floor, he was unconscious. Asil knew Valery could not hear his voice. He knew, yet he could not stop muttering like a madman to the pale, bloodless face. It felt as if calling out endlessly would make Valery slowly open his eyes, grumbling, “Damn, it hurts…” and look at him.

“Open your eyes, open…”

Choking, Asil coughed hoarsely, gathering the blood seeping through his fingers. He tried desperately to push it back into the gaping wound, but the moment he lifted his hands, blood poured out uncontrollably. The pistol’s power increased with proximity. Shot from just a few steps away, Valery’s back and abdomen were likely torn to shreds.

“Why did you, why…”

The first shot grazed Asil’s shoulder, missing its mark. Before the second and third shots could follow, Valery had pulled Asil into his arms, attempting to leap over the railing. The temple’s ceiling was high. Even from the second floor, the drop was considerable. It was a reckless act, certain to cause fractures regardless of landing, but Valery, judging it better than being shredded by bullets, acted without hesitation. The tragedy unfolded because the young man was even more reckless and unhesitating.

The young man fired at Asil, protruding over Valery’s shoulder, but Valery, moving with beast-like instinct, took one bullet between his shoulder and back, one in the center of his back, and one in his waist, falling over the railing with Asil. Even then, he tightly shielded Asil’s head and spine, leaving himself utterly defenseless as he crashed.

Asil grew increasingly uncertain of Valery’s survival with each passing second. Though he could see Valery’s chest rising and falling shallowly, he could not easily trust his breathing. Unable to use his hands, pressing on the abdomen, Asil lowered his head deeply, placing his ear near Valery’s nose. Fortunately, warm, ticklish breaths faintly brushed his earlobe.

“Lieutenant, I will take over!”

A priest trained in medicine pulled Asil away. Confirming the white bandages and medical tools in the priest’s hands, Asil staggered to his feet and stepped back. The priest, taking Asil’s place, removed Valery’s soaked uniform jacket. As it parted, a stomach submerged in dark red blood was revealed. The sight, more horrific than imagined, left everyone speechless. The priest, hesitating near the abdomen, unsure where to begin, flinched as a strong grip shook his nape and turned around.

“The Colonel is the future Grand Duke! You must, absolutely must, save him!”

Bride, who had rushed to the second floor to apprehend the shooter, had returned and was gripping the priest’s nape, glaring fiercely. Snapped to attention by her shout, the priest nodded frantically. He spread the torn wound wide, searching for the embedded bullets. Realizing the life of the future Grand Duke and Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army rested in his hands, a desperate sense of duty surged from within. His hands no longer hesitated unnaturally. As the priest began smooth, efficient emergency treatment, Bride, relieved, moved away.

“Lieutenant.”

She approached Asil, slumped on a wooden chair at the back of the hall. A priest attending to Asil’s condition noticed Bride’s gesture and quickly stepped aside. Asil, tightly bandaged around his chest, tried to rise to salute her. Spotting his trembling legs, she quickly stopped him.

“No need. Just sit.”

“…Yes.”

“The Colonel is receiving emergency treatment, so there is no need to worry too much. By the way, Lieutenant, we captured the shooter… Lieutenant?”

Bride looked down at Asil, who sat with his head bowed, unresponsive, with an unfamiliar gaze. Asil, always courteous in her presence, was not only failing to focus on their conversation but also avoiding her gaze. Had he fainted? Thinking he was fine aside from fractures, she worried he might have sustained hidden internal injuries. Alarmed, Bride grabbed Asil’s shoulders and shook him vigorously.

“Lieutenant! Are you hurt? Speak, so we can get urgent treatment…!”

Bride could not finish. Seeing Asil’s face, lifted by her rough handling, she pressed her lips tightly.

“There is… something strange. My eyes… have not been seeing well. Everything is blurry, so…”

Pausing intermittently, Asil spoke slowly, adding that his throat also felt sore, coughing hoarsely. Seeming unaware of what he was saying, he repeated himself. Bride hesitated, unable to respond immediately. Finally, with a troubled expression, she spoke to him gently, like a caregiver soothing a confused child. Her pitying gaze lingered on his cheeks.

“Lieutenant, you are crying.”

“…”

“You are crying.”

Informing Asil of the truth, she left. Judging that conversation with him was impossible now, Bride firmly stopped Cain, who was approaching Asil.

“Crying?”

Sitting alone on the chair, staring blankly at the people surrounding Valery, Asil cautiously touched his cheeks. He did not disbelieve Bride. It was just that realizing the liquid soaking his face was not Valery’s blood but his own tears was bewildering. Lifting his hand, he saw transparent droplets on his blood-caked index finger. Rubbing his thumb and index finger together, the dried blood mixed with tears, turning into a vivid red.

Asil repeated the act endlessly. Wiping tears from his eyes and cheeks, rubbing them, wiping again, rubbing again…

“Why am I?”

It was not pain causing the tears. Though twisting his torso made breathing difficult, the pain was bearable. Nor did it seem like shock had squeezed out tears; Asil was not so weak as to sob from surprise. He wiped his cheeks again. The tears, which he thought had stopped, now flowed down his chin, dripping steadily. As his hands became soaked from wiping, Asil buried his face in his palms and questioned himself.

Sad? Me? Because of him? Why? That is strange. That is strange. It makes no sense. It makes no sense. It makes no sense, but…

“Hic…”

A stifled sob escaped through the tightly clasped palms. Realizing he was crying, Asil could not suppress the sobs tearing through his throat. The slight trembling of his palms spread to his wrists, forearms, shoulders, and finally his entire body. Shaking, Asil denied himself. Denying, he suddenly lifted his head, gazing at Valery, still surrounded by people in the chaotic atmosphere. Noticing Valery’s limp legs and the boots splayed powerlessly, Asil tilted his chin fully upward, looking at the ceiling.

Meeting Valery at the military academy, Asil had prayed fervently to God for a time. He begged repeatedly. To do something about Valery, or to save him from this wretched situation. But God, like one with closed eyes and blocked ears, ignored Asil’s pleas, and his feeble faith quickly vanished. Since then, Asil stopped believing in God. At times, he even cursed the concept of God like a vile insect.

“This, where is the justice? If you had just answered back then, right then, I would not be…”

If his past prayers to kill Valery had circled back and finally reached God’s ears, if God had promptly granted his wish…

“Now, now… I did not ask for this… Save him, please save him, save him. Save him…”

Valery’s death. As familiar as he had imagined it dozens of times, yet so unimaginable that it felt distant, his death was now inches away. Bride had said the emergency treatment was going well, but Asil, having lain atop Valery’s limp body, could not take her words at face value. He had plummeted onto marble, bearing Asil’s full weight. It was not just the gunshot wounds. Asil, who had heard of soldiers never waking after severe head trauma, was terrified that Valery might never regain consciousness.

Asil was scared. He was indeed scared. Terrified. A fear unlike any he had felt before. It was not Valery he feared. Nor was it the changes Valery caused in him. Not his growing familiarity, his own doubts, or anything else.

Those were fears Asil clearly recognized and accepted. Fears he understood, wary of their future impact. But this was different. This was not a fear he could handle. It was a terror that felt like losing himself entirely, choking his breath, preventing rational thought. Amid the massive anxiety battering his body like a mob, Asil muttered softly.

“Save him.”

Staring into the benevolent old man’s eyes, Asil prayed repeatedly.

“I no longer want that… Save him.”

Give me a chance to face my fear properly. Give me a chance to identify the source of this overwhelming anxiety. Let me understand why I fear Valery’s death so much, give me time to comprehend it. Tell me what this fear is. Save him. Do not let him die.

As Asil’s prayer ended, a crack appeared in the old man’s eyes. Bright light poured through the splintered gap, slicing across the temple. It was neither an answer nor a revelation.

“Aaah!”

With the priests’ screams, Asil realized. God is cruel. His fear was his to resolve. Even if it meant sacrificing everything.