<Chapter 119>
[What was that person doing?]
Unaware of his friend’s distress over him, Ashmed turned his thoughts toward the woman.
Rose Hacardella.
He had no way of knowing the original name of the soul that had entered that body… but their last encounter remained a memory that unsettled him every time he recalled it.
She was someone he still couldn’t look upon with a calm heart. He even wondered if it might be better not to see her at all.
But that person was unpredictable. A dangerous variable.
He couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
Steeling himself, Ashmed looked through the vision delivered by the messenger.
That person was with her again.
A royal of Nisha.
Had she followed him after all?
For some reason, Ashmed felt uneasy.
Something must have changed within her. Unlike before, when she had desperately tried to escape, this time, she seemed to be following the royal willingly.
And yet, as if she couldn’t completely let go, she lingered before the ruins of an ancient temple of light. Moonlight poured down upon her, melting into a breathtaking, mysterious radiance.
[This is…?]
Ignis?
Ashmed recoiled as if burned and shot to his feet.
Prinscher, watching him with a puzzled look, seemed to wonder what had gotten into him.
But Ashmed could only stare at the woman, disappearing into the brilliant light.
There was no mistake.
The King of Light Spirits had intervened.
But… why?
Ashmed couldn’t shake his growing unease.
***
[That thing again… It keeps appearing in my sight. Do not look, Ashmed.]
He still remembered.
To Arkane, Ignis, the Spirit King of Light, was his only true adversary, a being destined to have eternal conflict with him from the moment of their birth.
Arkane despised him with a hatred deeper than any other. Whenever Ignis entered his vision, Arkane never failed to show his unfiltered displeasure.
[That wretched thing. Enjoying everything that should have been mine… even taking his heart away…]
The sight of his brother, gritting his teeth as if gnawing on some bitter past, had always puzzled Ashmed.
Did his hatred for Ignis stem from their fated enmity as natural adversaries?
Or was there… some other reason?
But there was no way to find the answer.
Unlike Arkane, Ignis had never shown even the slightest hostility when they met.
If anything, while the other Spirit Kings openly opposed Arkane, Ignis remained noticeably silent, never engaging in conflict even when tensions arose.
And yet… why was he intervening now?
Was that human truly special enough to catch his eye?
She had claimed to be on a mission from Lore, but could something so trivial really move Ignis?
***
[Ashmed, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but calm down first.]
Had his emotions been so obvious?
Prinscher, observing him carefully, finally spoke up to break the tension.
Right.
Even if Ignis had summoned that human, what did it matter to him?
Ashmed forced himself to sit back down, trying to regain his composure.
Ignis wasn’t the type to harm a human. If anything, there was no one more devoted to protecting life itself.
But then…
Why was he so worried about that person’s safety?
Had a few conversations and brief moments of watching over her really… made him grow attached?
[…That’s ridiculous.]
[What is? You’ve been acting really weird lately.]
Prinscher murmured, annoyed by his friend’s obvious turmoil yet unwillingness to explain.
Time passed.
Then, at last, the vision of the messenger showed the woman returning safely.
Ashmed let out a silent breath of relief as he watched.
But soon—
The fragile peace he had barely regained was shattered.
[That…!]
The Nisha royal had appeared again.
Had he lost all reason?
He shoved the woman roughly to the ground, restraining her wrists and pinning her beneath him.
For a moment, Ashmed’s mind went completely blank.
And then—
What surged through him was not mere irritation.
It was a frigid, seething rage.
[Ashmed? Where are you going?]
Would killing one insignificant mortal even matter?
Even if he was a descendant of the clan that worshiped his brother, would Arkane truly blame him for erasing such a worthless life?
[Ashmed! Answer me, SERIOUSLY!]
Ignoring Prinsher’s repeated calls, Ashmed dissolved into black mist.
Left alone, Prinsher let out a bitter sigh, staring at the empty space where his friend had stood.
He murmured quietly to himself.
***
Khalid Ilkai.
As a direct descendant of the New Moon Ilkai, the current head of the Ilkai royal family, he was a young prince fulfilling his duties.
And from his lips flowed the hidden truths of the past, veiled beneath the radiant darkness of the night.
Like so, his words formed a story.
Long ago, in an age when two great empires, one led by a spiritist blessed by the wind and the other by a spiritist blessed by the light, began to carve their reigns into history…
In the farthest outskirts of the continent, in a land forsaken by all clans, where no one had dared to settle…
A small group, led by three brothers, quietly stepped onto that soil after losing their leader.
The land they arrived in belonged to the domain of darkness.
Because of its ruler’s influence, for more than two-thirds of the year, even when the sun should have risen, the sky remained shrouded in darkness.
True daylight was a rare occurrence, making the region seem eerie and perilous.
Most people feared setting foot in such a place.
But that was not the only reason.
The ruler of that land harbored an intense hatred for life itself.
Any human who entered was doomed to perish within a short span.
Thus, no one dared to step onto that forsaken land.
Yet, one foolish tribe willingly chose to enter.
Were they mere fugitives?
Or were they a pitiful group, rejected from everywhere else?
The reasons behind their decision were lost to time.
Nevertheless, they settled upon that land, accepting the three brothers as their sovereigns.
The first was Einar, the one who stood alone.
The second was Annushka, the eternal dreamer.
The third was Ilkai, the one who ascended to the heavens.
The legend, passed down through countless ages, sang of the three brothers’ names.
Over time, truth was buried beneath myth, preventing any from questioning its origins.
The land belonging to the domain of darkness never permitted life to take root.
So, how had the ancestors of Nisha managed to establish a kingdom there and survive for so many generations?
This was the hidden gap in the myth.
[Life is nothing more than vermin that endlessly writhes throughout this universe. I cast my shadow upon this land to escape the ceaseless clamor, and yet, these blind fools have come to disrupt my peace.]
The King of Darkness spoke with cold, unrelenting cruelty.
[I have grown weary of killing…Just disappear from my sight.]
His words, born of despair and ennui, were a twisted form of mercy.
‘If we are not even allowed to live here, then there will be no place left for us anywhere in this world.’
‘…Contrary to the tales we’ve heard, the King of Darkness seems to show more mercy than expected. Perhaps we should beg for permission to settle here, even if it requires a price.’
But they had nowhere else to go.
Blinded by desperation, they dared to approach a being they should never have faced.
‘O great and almighty King of Darkness, we beg of you. If you cast us out of your domain, we will be forsaken everywhere and die miserable deaths. But if you allow us to live within your realm, we will worship you and only you until the very end of this world. And in return, we will offer you any price you desire. Please, grant us refuge.’
For three days and nights, every member of the tribe pleaded with him.
[…Any price?]
Their desperate pleas piqued the interest of the darkness.
[Very well…I shall grant you my mercy and allow you to dwell in my domain for as long as time endures. No, more than that—if you submit to my will, I shall bestow upon you prosperity beyond imagination.]
