Edelmar threw aside his sword.
Then, cloaking his legs in aura, he sprinted forward.
Ian was falling fast.
“Ugh.”
Just barely managing to catch him, Edelmar felt his heart sink.
Ian’s face was pale, and blood poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Ian!”
Edelmar couldn’t even bring himself to check if Ian was still breathing—he was too scared. All he could do was call his name.
Then—
Cough Ian let out a weak cough and slowly opened his eyes.
In a faint voice, he spoke.
“Please don’t shout. It’s ringing in my head.”
“Are you alright? We need to get you to the palace right away—”
Ian shakily raised a hand, motioning Edelmar to stop.
“Let me rest. Please take care of the situation first.”
“You—right now—!”
“I don’t have the strength to talk.”
Ian said, closing his eyes to prove his point.
Mumbling, he added.
“I’m not going to die, so just let me rest. Sort things out first.”
Edelmar sighed.
“Alright.”
Gently laying Ian down, Edelmar ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Then, after glancing briefly at Ian lying on the ground, he ran back to where he had dropped his sword.
Listening to Edelmar’s footsteps fade, Ian began to assess his own condition.
Right after using the skill, he had instinctively blocked off his mana due to the suffocating pain. He had realized he was plummeting when his wings disappeared, but the pain had kept him from manipulating his mana again.
Had Edelmar not caught him, his life would’ve ended right then.
Strangely enough, though, ever since Edelmar caught him, his condition had improved.
When he’d used the skill, he was sure he’d be bedridden for at least a couple of months. The nausea that had been overwhelming him just moments ago had also mysteriously vanished.
‘Why is that?’
Ian raised a hand, now free of its trembling.
Just a moment ago, it had felt as heavy as lead, soaked in his own blood. Now it felt light.
He quietly tried to move his mana.
‘Hm?’
The pain hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it had dulled significantly.
He clenched his bloody fist and formed aura once again.
It still felt like tiny needles were poking at his heart, but it was nowhere near the stabbing agony from before.
“This is strange.”
Letting out a hollow chuckle, Ian sat up.
He felt a bit dizzy, but it didn’t seem to be from mana depletion or overusing his skills—rather, it was likely from losing too much blood.
Ian wiped the blood-filled tears from his eyes with his forearm, clearing his vision that had been soaked in blood. He quickly assessed the situation.
Napharoa was busy knocking out the beastfolk who were shooting arrows, and Edelmar was fighting off a dark mage trying to protect a man struck by lightning.
‘I need to deal with the beastfolk first.’
According to what he had seen in the <Flow>, the beastfolk obeyed the king’s orders without question.
Their obedience wasn’t just due to the wolf tribe’s physical power—it was because of a divine blessing called the ‘Imprint’ bestowed upon them.
Throughout the history of the Beastfolk Kingdom, there had never been a rebellion or revolt, and that was thanks to the blessing given to the royal family by the gods.
The beastfolk had always revered and loved the royal family who had passed that blessing down to them.
But now, those very beastfolk were attacking their king without hesitation—almost as if they were facing an enemy.
That wasn’t something one would do to someone they revered and loved.
Ian glanced at the blood on his hand and then drew his finger across the ground.
A crimson line appeared.
“This should work.”
Using the blood smeared on his face, Ian drew a circular magic circle, filling it with various symbols. Whenever the blood wasn’t enough, he used what was left on his body and face.
“Done.”
The magic circle wasn’t too complex, so drawing it didn’t take much effort.
“I should thank Lord Bernaba when I get to the palace.”
Murmuring to himself, Ian pulled a magic stone from his inventory and placed it on the circle.
The stone shimmered red like blood, tinted with the colors of a sunset.
Ian placed his hand on the ground and spoke the incantation.
“[Remove]”
The blood-red circle emitted a light that rippled outwards in a wave.
As the wave of light touched them, the beastfolk began collapsing one by one.
“Huh?”
Napharoa looked confused as his attacker suddenly fell. But the confusion didn’t last long—he quickly realized that the light had knocked them out.
“Light?”
He turned around, just in case, and saw Ian waving from a distance.
“So it was the Duke’s doing.”
Napharoa checked the pulse of the fallen beastfolk.
There was a heartbeat. He wasn’t dead, just unconscious.
“There’s a spell that only knocks people out?”
As the bewildered Napharoa looked back at Ian, the man who had waved earlier was now pointing toward something.
He turned his head and saw Edelmar locked in battle, surrounded by dark mages.
“So he wants me to help with that.”
Napharoa bared his fangs in a grin.
“Good, I’ve got a lot of pent-up frustration anyway.”
In an instant, his demeanor changed.
Hair began sprouting on his arms, his nails turned into claws, and his clothes tore as his body bulked up.
He had entered combat form—a transformation unique to beastfolk.
His face fully morphed into that of a wolf. Napharoa bared his sharp teeth and growled menacingly.
The killing intent radiating from his body made even the unconscious beastfolk flinch instinctively.
“Grrr…”
With his ragged clothes torn completely, Napharoa sprinted toward the dark mages.
***
Meanwhile, Ian packed away the magic stone and stood up as Napharoa joined the battle.
Though he felt dizzy from blood loss, it was a familiar sensation from his time as a hunter, so walking wasn’t a problem.
But after just a few steps, his legs buckled again.
“Damn it.”
Ian felt pain flaring up in his body again, despite not using any magic or aura.
“I need to finish this quickly. Ermenia.”
Wings spread once again from his back.
Even though the pain in his heart worsened, he ignored it and flew toward Edelmar.
“Duke?”
Edelmar scowled as he noticed Ian approaching.
“Please catch me.”
“What?”
Ian dismissed his wings mid-air.
Edelmar caught the falling Ian with a shout.
“What do you think you’re—!”
“We can’t keep this up any longer. I might faint soon. If I continue like this, Rose will panic—please, just wait here for a bit. Oh, and also, please hold onto that knight over there.”
“What?”
Edelmar was about to question him when—
“[Blend Worrow]”
As Ian murmured the activation phrase, his head drooped.
“Duke?”
Just as he said, he had fainted.
Edelmar clenched his teeth as he looked at the unmoving Ian.
That’s when the ground trembled. The vibration, which had been subtle at first, quickly intensified.
Napharoa, who had been dodging the dark mages’ attacks and fighting back, sensed something wrong and looked toward Edelmar.
“Ahhh!”
“Agh!”
The ground beneath the dark mages exploded.
The mages who failed to evade it screamed in agony.
“King Napharoa! Over here!”
Edelmar shouted as he retreated, and Napharoa ran toward him on all fours.
Skilfully dodging the exploding terrain, Napharoa arrived at Edelmar’s side and growled.
“Grrr?”
“He just fainted.”
Edelmar quickly scanned the area and handed the unconscious Ian to Napharoa.
“Hold him.”
“Grrr?”
With Ian passed off to Napharoa, Edelmar grabbed his sword again and rushed toward the center of the explosion.
“Get into the air!”
At someone’s shout, the dark mages chanted their incantations and soared into the sky.
Ignoring them, Edelmar sprinted toward the man who had collapsed after being struck by lightning.
“The target is Bethi! Stop him!”
The dark mages hurled spells at Edelmar as he rushed toward the knight.
“Ugh!”
Using his aura to slash through or dodge the barrage of magic, Edelmar steadily advanced toward the fallen knight.
A dark mage watching him quickly helped the knight to his feet.
“We’re retreating!”
At that moment, several dark mages descended to block Edelmar’s path.
Just as Edelmar’s sword cut through them—
“I’ll repay this humiliation.”
One of the dark mages, cloaked in black energy, muttered bitterly through clenched teeth.
And in that instant, both the dark mage and the knight vanished without a trace.
The other dark mages who had been attacking Edelmar also soared back into the air.
“Damn it!”
Edelmar cursed and channeled aura into his legs, leaping into the sky.
But the dark mages had clearly prepared in advance—just as they rose into the air, they too vanished into the black mana.
Landing back on the ground, Edelmar ground his teeth.
The surroundings were eerily clean. Even the corpses of the dark mages he had slain were gone. If it weren’t for the cratered earth, one wouldn’t believe a battle had taken place here.
“Grr…”
Napharoa, still holding Ian, approached silently.
“He hasn’t woken up yet?”
“Grr.”
Napharoa snorted through his nose.
Still, his body slowly began reverting to its human form.
From head to toe, he turned fully human—and now stood stark naked.
Edelmar took Ian from Napharoa’s arms.
“Did you have to rip your clothes?”
“What’s the point of wearing clothes that just get in the way during a fight?”
“Tsk.”
Edelmar clicked his tongue, averting his eyes.
Napharoa followed him, completely unbothered by his nakedness, and asked.
“Will the Duke be alright?”
“…….”
Edelmar had no idea. All he knew was that Ian had passed out.
“Hey, you—the guard hiding over there. Go fetch some clothes. Grand Duke, as soon as I’m dressed, we’re heading to the kingdom.”
Edelmar recalled what Ian had said before fainting.
“If we go now, Rose will be shocked. Please wait here for a moment.”
Ian had definitely said that.
Edelmar, who hadn’t even properly listened to his brother, the emperor, had the sense that if he ignored Ian’s request now, Ian might never ask him for help again.
‘I wouldn’t like that.’
Ian was someone who helped him forget the emptiness—someone interesting to watch.
Especially today, he experienced for the first time what it felt like when your heart drops.
It had truly surprised him at the time, but beyond the excitement, that unfamiliar feeling was… refreshing.
So this is the kind of emotion people live with, huh?
Looking at the unconscious Ian, Edelmar gave a faint chuckle.
“No.”
“What?”
Napharoa, who was getting dressed in the clothes handed to him by a guard, looked at him.
“We can’t leave like this. We have to wait until he wakes up.”
“Are you crazy? Do you want the Duke to die? A human lost that much blood—you think he’ll be fine?”
Without replying, Edelmar walked toward the village.
Through the window, he met eyes with a beastfolk peeking outside.
“Open the door.”
Startled, the beastfolk hurriedly shut the window’s shutter.
With a sharp kick, Edelmar smashed the wooden door.
Crash!
With one kick, the wooden door broke apart.
“Hey! Grand Duke! What do you think you’re doing?! That’s one of my citizens’ homes!”
Ignoring Napharoa’s shouts, Edelmar stepped into the shabby house.
He paid no attention to the trembling beastfolk and laid Ian on a straw bed.
“Where’s the water?”
“T-There.”
A beastfolk pointed at a jar filled with water.
Edelmar soaked a handkerchief and began wiping the dried blood from Ian’s face.
Unlike earlier, the bleeding had stopped—but Ian’s face was still pale.
After rinsing the handkerchief and cleaning Ian’s face several times, Edelmar was just about to wipe the blood off his own hands—
A tsk sound broke the silence.
Startled, Edelmar turned around—and found a priest with long, flowing blue hair standing inside the house.
‘I didn’t hear anyone come in…’
Edelmar was a Swordmaster.
Someone who could sense even an ant crawling past. The fact that he didn’t notice this person’s approach meant—
They were stronger than him.
As Edelmar narrowed his eyes and reached for his sword—
