…I’m sorry.
Hio, left alone in the empty conference hall, spoke those words to himself.
An apology that was impossible to understand.
- “I’m sorry, Teordo.”
He didn’t bother to listen to what came after that.
He simply turned around and left.
Why would he say something like that?
It made it sound as if… Sylvia were about to die.
That couldn’t be… it couldn’t be true.
She’s a mage. She’ll find a way.
A mage who turns impossibility into possibility.
A mage who can change day into night with a single gesture.
Then why did he have that expression…00
“Teordo.”
Sylvia’s clear voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
He answered her call.
“Yes.”
Yohn Torno’s castle.
Sylvia’s room, spacious and richly decorated.
Sylvia lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, with Teordo standing beside her.
“You went to see Hio, didn’t you?”
Sylvia asked, and Teordo hesitated for a moment before answering.
“…Yes.”
As always, he nodded curtly.
A brief answer.
- Interest
While Sylvia had her clothes attended to by the maids, Teordo had gone to see Hio.
He probably thought he was going quietly, but Sylvia could see right through that clumsy knight’s plan.
“What did Hio say?”
Sylvia asked, waiting for the answer.
The loyal knight had never once failed to meet the princess’s expectations.
If he knew the answer to her question, he would answer immediately.
Even if he didn’t know, he would find out somehow and tell her.
Sylvia asked, and Teordo answered.
It was a result that had never been wrong.
Sylvia waited for the reply.
But no answer came.
That deep, firm voice she always heard in response to her questions was absent for the first time.
Sylvia wasn’t surprised.
She just asked again.
“What did Hio say?”
Twice she asked.
No answer came.
Still, Sylvia waited.
Because she knew the knight beside her better than anyone else.
And sure enough,
“Hio Pavlenko said…”
Teordo’s mouth opened heavily.
A mouth that had spoken only truth all his life.
A knight who had never dared tell a lie.
And yet, after much hesitation, he barely managed to utter:
“He said he thinks he can find a way.”
A lie.
A falsehood made from nothing.
“Really?”
But Sylvia smiled brightly at Teordo’s lie.
A smile so dazzling it hurt the eyes.
“That’s a relief! As expected of Hio.”
She beamed that smile at Teordo.
“Thank you, Teordo. I should rest now, so go and rest as well.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Teordo moved toward the door.
Before opening it, he gave Sylvia a brief bow.
“Then please rest.”
“Yeah. Thank you again today, Teordo.”
Sylvia opened the door and waved brightly until it closed again.
Teordo stood still with the door shut behind him.
Despite having told a lie for the first time in his life, the relief was greater than any shame.
What would have happened if he told the truth?
Thinking of how crushed and pained Sylvia would have been, he could tell a hundred such lies.
Sylvia suffered nightmares every night.
Still, somehow he felt good.
Hadn’t she shown such a radiant smile?
Maybe tonight she would sleep soundly, dreaming pleasant dreams.
“Tomorrow I’ll visit the mage and ask properly.”
There must be a way.
“I should at least make sure she’s asleep before I leave.”
With that resolve, the knight guarded the princess’s door.
An hour passed.
Two hours passed.
Teordo still stood in front of her door.
Frozen like a statue.
“Hic.”
Through the door, a faint, suppressed sobbing.
Sylvia wept silently, holding back so the knight outside wouldn’t hear.
Why hadn’t he realized that the princess saw right through his clumsy lies?
The knight continued guarding the door.
His eyes bloodshot and wide open.
His fists clenched so tightly the nails dug into his flesh, blood dripping.
Together with the muffled sobs, through the whole night.
“So.”
The Second Prince, Belloke Verden.
“The winner has been decided, Sword Saint.”
He spoke to Vitalianus in an awkward tone that didn’t suit him.
“Let’s dispense with formalities. After all, it’s between you and me, isn’t it? I’ve followed the Sword Saint well since I was a child.”
Still, Vitalianus answered mechanically.
“When you ascend the throne, everything will be resolved.”
“You have eyes and ears as well; you know. I am the emperor now.”
“The late emperor appointed the First Prince as heir.”
“Then why did you not side with him? You must have thought I’m more fit to be emperor, right?”
“The First Prince has not had the coronation ceremony.”
“Ha…”
Belloke Verden, the Second Prince, bared his teeth and frowned.
His expression was like a snarling beast.
“So, you want me to cut off my brother’s head? Then you will recognize me as emperor?”
Belloke began to laugh, as if incredulous.
“I really can only laugh at this.”
After laughing for a while, he stood.
“Just so happens my brother is raising an army and coming back. I’ll cut off his head as you wish and bring it to you. Then I’ll truly become your dog… no, your sword! Hahaha!”
If he cut off the First Prince’s breath for sure, the Sword Saint would have no choice but to recognize him as emperor.
Then the entire Royal Knights, loyal only to the emperor, would listen to him and fall under his command.
The Empire’s strongest military force would lead the continent, bathing it in blood.
“I’ll see you again soon, Sword Saint. No,…”
The Second Prince left the room, imagining that thrilling moment.
“The late emperor’s guardian knight, Vitalianus Mahel.”
Left alone was the Sword Saint.
The Empire’s Golden Lion, Vitalianus Mahel.
He was dressed neither in uniform nor armor.
Clad in black mourning clothes.
His dry eyes fixed on the door through which the Second Prince had exited.
Such a petty provocation wasn’t even worth laughing at.
But Vitalianus had sworn to serve only the emperor.
Whether it was the Second Prince or the First, the Sword Saint could only obey.
‘What does it matter anymore.’
In truth, he no longer cared.
Only a bitter emptiness remained.
He quietly looked down at his sword lying in the corner.
A treasure bestowed by the emperor.
Once his very life.
‘…I don’t know.’
But now he didn’t know.
Once he held the sword full of passion.
Once he shouted himself hoarse for someone’s glory.
Now, what should he draw his sword for?
‘I don’t know.’
Why did I hold the sword in the first place?
He could barely remember.
The next day, the Eastern Alliance nobles and Sylvia gathered again in the conference hall.
Hio arrived slightly late, but the atmosphere was distinctly different from the day before.
“There’s no problem. It’s just that we’re facing humans instead of monsters.”
“Isn’t it us, the alliance that’s protected the East for over ten years? Our troop formations are fine.”
“The command structure is well established, and the soldiers have plenty of experience.”
“We have prepared for emergencies, so supplies and provisions are sufficient.”
The nobles passionately participated in the meeting.
They exchanged words back and forth, intent on producing the best outcome.
“Everyone in the empire knows the East Alliance is busy blocking the monster waves, so no one will pay us any mind.”
“No one would imagine we’d solve that in a day and then march to the capital.”
Their knowledge, experience, and memories were intact. The only difference was their devotion to the princess.
“Hio, you’re here?”
Sylvia greeted Hio in her usual tone.
Still, the nobles paid no mind.
No matter what Sylvia did, they saw her as the noble princess.
“What’s the meeting about?”
Sylvia’s expression was clearly bad.
Dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn’t slept.
She probably tried to hide it, but it was obvious.
Hio deliberately ignored her condition and looked at the nobles engaged in heated discussion.
“Troop formations and such. We have to advance quickly before a winner is declared.”
If one of the princes ascended before Sylvia’s arrival with her army, it wouldn’t be a succession war.
It would be rebellion.
Then they’d have to face countless named individuals claiming neutrality.
Especially if the Royal Knights and Sword Saint joined in, it would be truly difficult.
“What we lack is information.”
“Troops, supplies, timing, even the enemy’s carelessness—all perfect. Except we don’t have information.”
“Isn’t information the most important thing? We can’t move troops recklessly without it.”
“What are you saying! We have to move as soon as possible!”
That was the problem.
Lack of information.
No one expected the civil war, so they had no information and no quick way to obtain it in the East.
In the end, they’d have to march to the capital to find out, but that was far too risky.
Even among the Eastern Alliance devoted to the princess, opinions were divided.
“Ah? Information?”
Hio nodded as he grasped the situation roughly.
“Don’t worry. I have a way.”
“A way?”
Sylvia tilted her head.
She couldn’t imagine what way there could be to get information in such a remote place.
“Hmm… wait a moment.”
Hio left the conference hall.
Soon after, voices came from outside.
—Hey!
—Come out quickly. I know you’re there.
—I’ve been letting you be… how long are you going to hide?
—Oh! Who’s this? My friend Hio!
—Haha. What a coincidence! I was just passing by!
—Stop talking nonsense and come here. Aren’t you coming?
—Haha! I will, but it’s really nice to bump into you like this!
After a few more exchanges,
Hio dragged a man by the scruff of his neck back into the hall.
A man with a face none had seen before.
Cowering quietly like a cat with its scruff grabbed.
“Haha. Nice to meet you. Hio’s childhood friend, by chance…”
“Jason Klarok.”
All eyes in the hall turned to Jason.
“Jason Klarok?”
“Who’s that?”
Unlike the confused Eastern nobles, Sylvia’s eyes widened.
She had seen this man once with Professor Sirvert.
The head of the assassination and intelligence guilds.
But his face and build were completely different this time.
A master of disguise and infiltration, even beyond imagination.
“Could that cat-like posture be a kind of disguise too?”
While Sylvia was so surprised, Hio was interrogating Jason.
“You?”
“Huh? What?”
“The one who told Sirvert my location.”
“Haha! What are you talking about, friend? I don’t know anything.”
“How much did you get paid to sell us out?”
“Oh, that’s disappointing!”
“You want me to ask Sirvert?”
“…Sorry.”
Jason quickly admitted and started begging.
He had some reason to feel unfair.
He had kept his guard up as much as possible, keeping the distance from Hio that had prevented detection.
But what he didn’t know was that Hio’s Circle had risen.
And that his control over various magics had sharpened his sensitivity to mana.
“Alright, Jason.”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me everything you know.”
“……”
Thus the information officer was handled like a stray cat.
With Jason’s addition, the high-quality intelligence flowed in.
The meeting continued late into the night.
Late at night, in Hio’s room.
“Hio Pavlenko.”
Teordo faced him.
“I came to hear the words I couldn’t hear yesterday.”
He wanted a definitive answer.
Right after Sylvia’s ability manifested yesterday.
What was the expression of despair he wore alone in the conference hall?
What did the apology to him really mean?
Was what he feared truly the case?
Teordo had to know.
“Ah… about that.”
Hio scratched his head.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
He spoke hesitantly and sat down on the floor.
No, not just that—he lay down flat.
“Wait a moment…”
Teordo silently watched, wondering what Hio was doing.
While lying down, Hio rummaged through a pocket at his waist and pulled out a small book.
As if it were a precious treasure, he hugged it tightly to his chest while still lying down.
Through the gaps, the title was visible.
—Pamyeonbok Iwayo! (Patience Brings Blessings!)
The title was crooked, like a child’s handwriting.
“What are you trying to do, Hio Pavlenko?”
Teordo’s expression stiffened.
The princess’s life was at stake—did he want to play games?
He was so worried and anxious, but the author of this book…
“Teordo Ricart.”
Yet it was no joke.
Hio’s expression was as serious and grave as Teordo’s.
Lying on the floor, he looked up at him with unprecedented solemnity.
“Do you want to save the princess?”
Hugging the book even tighter against his chest, Hio Pavlenko said.
“If so, hit me.”
He said it with an utterly serious expression.
“Hit me as hard as you can.”
Teordo flinched and took a step back without realizing it.