Chapter 70: The Unseen Hand of Salvation

After the rebellion was fully suppressed and he watched the shackled Marquis and Shakan dragged away in chains, Rohan let out a deep breath.

Although Shakan’s unexpected appearance had made his heart pound with worry, thanks to Retina’s dramatic return, they had managed to overcome the crisis.

Once all the commotion died down and things around them were settled, Rohan approached Retina—who was still on guard, her eyes cold—and spoke to her gently.

“Retina.”

At his call, Retina relaxed, letting go of her sharpness for a moment.

Her gaze shifted to Rohan.

“You’re back. Everything all right in Silvaren?”

There was both worry and relief in Rohan’s voice.

Retina loosened her stiff expression and offered a faint smile.

The warmth that occasionally peeked through her cold demeanor always gave Rohan a strange sense of relief.

“Thanks to you, I made it back safely. The children were so happy to return home.”

“There wasn’t any trouble over the illegal cross-species trading incident?”

“Oh, that.”

Retina shrugged.

“They said they want to talk about that in person?”

“In person?”

Rohan’s eyes widened, and Retina let out a hollow laugh.

“Did you forget? That we’re supposed to go to Silvaren together.”

“No way. That’s got to be a joke.”

When Rohan chuckled, Retina shook her head.

“Anyway, Lord Nas seems determined to bring you to Silvaren, one way or another. And you should know—his patience is wearing thin.”

“All right.”

He’d been meaning to visit Silvaren soon anyway.

There was a promise to keep, and things to learn about the ancient Yubrian script.

“Oh, by the way, do you know anything about this script?”

Rohan took out a small, palm-sized book from his coat.

It was the ‘Wildflowers’ that Goopy had lent him, and lately he’d been keeping it close, wanting to decipher its letters.

“Hmmm, what’s this? ‘Wildflowers’?”

Resting her chin on her hand, Retina tilted her head in curiosity.

“No, not that script. Here—these letters.”

Pointing above the continent’s common language, where ‘Wildflowers’ was written, Rohan asked.

“Do you know anything about these letters?”

“Well… not really.”

So, Retina didn’t know either.

Rohan smacked his lips in disappointment.

Just then, Martin approached.

“Are you all right?”

To Rohan’s question, he nodded.

“Yes, it’s only a minor injury—a bit of rest and I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, Your Highness.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“By the way…”

Martin’s gaze fixed on Retina.

“Earlier… that was truly amazing.”

Retina shrugged at Martin’s genuine admiration.

A pleased expression flitted across her face.

But she soon returned to her usual curt look and replied brusquely.

“Your swordsmanship is worth watching now too. That Sunfire Awakening at the end? Pretty impressive.”

At Retina’s praise, Martin blinked in surprise.

Given how reserved and unemotional he usually was, her compliment felt especially meaningful.

“It’s all thanks to you. Earlier… I really thought I might die.”

Martin answered modestly, his face turning red.

His eyes were filled with respect for Retina.

Her instruction had opened a new world for Martin, and on that foundation, his skills had rapidly improved of late.

“Ha, what would you have done if I hadn’t arrived in time? This is why you need me.”

Retina added with a mischievous grin, though her voice carried a hint of fondness for both Rohan and Martin.

“By the way, that sword of yours—I have to admit its power. With those flames, you could burn up most foes.”

Not sure if she was praising or teasing him, Martin gave an awkward laugh.

But his eyes shone with genuine happiness.

To be acknowledged by Retina, one of the strongest among the Elpyrians.

That must have meant a lot to him.

Rohan looked on at the warm scene between the two, feeling gratified.

If things had gone as before, the two would have lived their whole lives without ever crossing paths.

Now, thanks to him, they recognized each other’s skills and were building a bond.

To face the difficult days ahead.

He could instinctively sense that their strong camaraderie would be a great strength.

---

The doors to the emperor’s chambers swung open heavily, and Rohan entered cautiously with Isabel.

A place that had once been filled with a sense of majesty now felt oddly unsettled—evidence of the recent, fierce rebellion.

Yet what truly overwhelmed the room was the familiar face sitting on the bed.

Emperor Beltar.

The man everyone thought was dead looked surprisingly serene.

“Father.”

Rohan approached the emperor.

Though his death had been faked, it was true that he had briefly stopped breathing.

And now, his face had become calm once more.

“You really do look much better.”

“Does it seem that way? Ha ha. Truly, I feel as if I’ve awakened from a deep sleep—my mind is clear, and my condition is good.”

Emperor Beltar had taken Eirene’s poison and slept for hours as if dead.

With this poison, the body grows cold and the breath weak—at a glance, it’s indistinguishable from a corpse.

Rohan, having seen Eirene’s healing arts before, knew of its existence, and thanks to this treatment, they’d also been able to catch the marquis.

“Father… are you really all right?”

Isabel, barely able to believe her eyes, called to the emperor with a trembling voice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how ill you truly were…”

The emperor looked at Rohan and Isabel with warm eyes and gave a faint smile. His face, once pale, now held the glow of life.

“It’s all right. How could you have known what I was deliberately hiding? As you can see, I’m perfectly fine. Thanks to Rohan… and that wonderful physician, Eirene.”

The emperor’s voice wasn’t as booming as before, but there was unmistakable warmth in it.

Only then could Rohan finally let out a deep sigh of relief.

Yes, for now, they could breathe easy.

“Eirene… I ought to reward that physician. Do you know where she is?”

Beltar was truly grateful to the woman who had saved his life.

“Well, if you ask me, I think she’d prefer a hefty pouch of money over any official reward…”

Rohan said with a small laugh.

“She’s completely exhausted from days and nights of nonstop care. She’s resting now at the Boronia Palace.”

“Is that so? All right then. When her rest is over, tell her to come see me.”

“Yes, I will.”

When the father and children finished speaking,

Rohan and Isabel withdrew from the emperor’s chambers.

As the heavy bedroom doors closed, they walked slowly down the corridor.

When they emerged from the palace, the sky—which had been gloomy for days—was now, as if by magic, clear and bright.

“It’s still hard to believe.”

Under the bright sun, Isabel squinted and spoke in awe.

“To have suppressed the rebellion so perfectly… it was like watching a well-written play.”

Rohan looked at Isabel and let out a small chuckle.

“You played a big part. When Father’s condition was at its worst, the look of utter despair on your face… it was enough to make anyone watching tear up.”

“Don’t tease me. As if you—?”

Isabel laughed incredulously, then became serious.

“It wasn’t acting.”

Her voice trembled.

“Honestly… just imagining Father dead made me cry without meaning to. I never want to go through something that horrible again.”

Her words overflowed with genuine love for her family.

Though she often grumbled and acted stubborn, Isabel was, in truth, a warmhearted woman who cherished her family above all.

Rohan knew her true feelings well.

Just then, from afar, a familiar voice called out to Rohan.

“Brother!”

A small boy sprinted toward them.

His golden hair shone under the sunlight. It was Elliot.

“Elliot.”

Rohan greeted his younger brother with a bright smile and gently ruffled his hair.

“You did well.”

Those few words carried deep understanding and encouragement for all the tension and hardship Elliot had endured.

Back when Rohan was returning from the Elyseon Monastery, he’d given Elliot a request.

No matter what happened, to trust his brother and bravely endure, whatever the situation.

It wouldn’t have been an easy request for young Elliot, but he had kept his promise to his brother to the very end.

Elliot gave a proud look and shrugged his shoulders at Rohan’s praise.

“I held on just like you told me! I wasn’t scared at all!”

Though his voice trembled slightly, his determined eyes were sincere.

Rohan was proud of his little brother.

Isabel also stroked Elliot’s hair and smiled warmly.

“You were so brave, Elliot. Such a strong boy!”

Seeing that Elliot had truly recovered, Isabel couldn’t have been happier.

‘Honestly, I thought things would only get worse.’

At first, she’d been disappointed when Rohan hadn’t replied to her letters.

But now she realized that Elliot’s recovery was largely thanks to Rohan.

A gentle smile spread across Isabel’s face.

A father who’d returned from the dead, a successful suppression of the rebellion, and the unwavering trust they shared.

No one could say what trials awaited them, but with things as they were now, she felt confident they could overcome any hardship together.

---

That night.

The damp, dark air of the prison gnawed away at Marquis Fabian’s mind.

The world beyond the cold iron bars was utterly different from what he’d once known.

A crushing defeat—and the terrible sentence of execution that would soon follow.

His eyes had lost focus, wandering the void, half-crazed.

His lips were cracked and bloodied, but he only bit down, seeming not to feel the pain at all.

A despair that all was truly over pressed down on his entire being.

Right at that moment.

Creak.

The sound of the door opening, and a shadow slipped quietly into the cell.

The shadow approached the bars where Marquis Fabian was locked up, soundless.

It was hard to discern who it was in the darkness, but there was a strange sense of familiarity.

The marquis stared at the shadow with blurry eyes.

“…Who are you?”

His voice came out dry and cracked.

“He sent me.”

At those words, the marquis’s eyes flew open.

Life, absent only a moment before, returned to his face as if by magic.

The despair in his eyes sparked into a faint glimmer of hope.

“W-what… what did he say?”

“He said to tell you he hasn’t given up on you.”

“I-is that true?”

The marquis panted for breath.

“How could I lie in his name?”

A low, whispering voice came from the shadow.

It echoed as if from the depths of the abyss, yet sounded as sweet as honey to the marquis’s ears.

The shadow then extended a thin, pale hand through the bars.

It was as if a hand of salvation was being offered.

“Come with me to him. He’s waiting.”

“Y-yes! Of course! I’ll go, I’ll go!”

Like a man possessed, the marquis grabbed the shadow’s hand.

It was chillingly cold, not quite human, but he didn’t care.

“Get me out of here!”

Led by that hand, he rose to his feet.

Driven by the single hope of escaping despair, he was ready to give everything.

Soon after, only a cold silence remained in the cell.

The bars were empty.

As if no one had ever been there at all.

Nowhere was there any trace of Marquis Fabian.

Only a faint shadow stretched out over the cold stone floor.