Episode 54

“Why, why are you so… skilled?”

Surprisingly, that was the question asked.

Of course, he would be skilled. It was only natural.

He had wielded a sword for a very long time and had roamed the battlefield enough to earn the title of Sword Master.

Yet, despite knowing this, it was still surprising.

Perhaps it was because it was the first time seeing Igon fight like this.

He seemed unfamiliar.

Even though the creature was hideous and terrifying, she felt a sense of revulsion at the thought of stabbing it.

Even while frantically rushing for Kenneth, her hand trembled as she swung her sword.

But there was not a hint of hesitation in Igon.

It didn’t seem like he was thinking and moving.

He was moving instinctively.

“Because it’s something I’ve always done.”

Igon said this with a gentle smile.

A faint red drop, mixed with rain, dripped from the tip of his hair and rolled down his cheek.

Rip.

There was a sound of something tearing, and then something wrapped around her shoulder.

Tightly, it felt like a knot was being tied.

Just as she was thinking about the pain, he answered in a low voice.

“I’m sick of it by now.”

With a pop, something was poured on her arm, accompanied by the sound of a bottle being opened.

Judging by the smell, it was likely alcohol.

“Ah!”

She couldn’t hear the rest of his words due to the needle-like pain and closed her eyes.

Her arm hurt terribly.

* * *

He couldn’t remember the moment of his birth, but he had memories from shortly after that.

Igon had been unhappy from that moment on.

Married to the heir of the duchy and thus the future Duchess, Igon’s mother was, in fact, the Emperor’s longtime lover.

She had an unwanted marriage and gave birth to a child less than a year after entering the Rodore Duchy.

That child was Igon.

An indifferent father and a melancholic mother.

When he became accustomed to his parents’ discord and negligence, the young boy felt himself to be unfortunate.

One day, while holding his parents’ hands at the imperial palace, receiving an excessive gift from the young Emperor, Igon was certain.

Yes, the rumors were true, and the attitude of the man known as his father, the Duke, confirmed it.

You are my real son.

An unhappy boy.

But there is always a lower depth than the bottom.

At the moment he thought, ‘This is the end,’ the ground supporting him collapsed, and he fell helplessly, further down and further down.

The boy left for the north at a young age with the Duke.

At that time, his mother was raising a girl who closely resembled the Emperor in hair and eye color.

It was known that even after becoming the Duchess, she could not completely sever ties with the Emperor.

“No! Rodore traditions and whatnot don’t matter! I can’t send the child to such a barbaric and dangerous place!”

“…It’s not about tradition; it’s about surviving as a Rodore.”

“No! What would the child understand?”

The Duchess vehemently opposed it like never before, but it was no use.

The boy headed north.

At first, he thought the Duke hated him.

He believed he was treated this way because he was not the Duke’s biological son.

Before he could even adapt to the icy winds of the North, he had to swing his sword until his hands were raw. It was inevitable.

He severed every soft and tender moment with his own hands.

He struggled desperately to not be childlike.

He discarded the compassion that any person should have.

But in hindsight, that was love.

It was only after standing on the battlefield properly that he understood.

Every moment in the North had been a rehearsal for him.

The boy who returned from the North no longer regarded the Emperor as his father.

To be honest, they didn’t even resemble each other.

Igon took after the Duchess.

Whether the Duke or the Emperor was his real father couldn’t be determined by appearances alone.

So, Igon chose to regard the Duke as his father in his heart.

Not the one who never replied to countless letters,
not the one who ignored his desperate pleas, ‘I know you are my father, so save me,’ begging to be taken out of there,

Not the one who later threw him onto the battlefield,

But the one who, despite being ruthless, taught him how to survive calmly.

The boy, who had not yet come of age, fought endlessly against the monsters that kept appearing.

The war would continue until they were annihilated.

Whether he fought or not.

Someone would die, and someone would live a peaceful life.

While his achievements were remarkable, that was only by human standards; someone who hadn’t reached the realm of gods couldn’t save the world.

If that was the case, let it all fall apart.

As he swung his sword, the boy swore.

He would bring down that empire.

The strong and ancient Rodore had always been a thorn in the Empire’s side.

His biological mother, the Duchess, and his younger sister, who resembled the Emperor, were thorns in the Empress’s side.

The Empire, the Emperor, and the Empress had destroyed everything Igon had.

The only thing left was a puppet.

A toy brought by his mother.

A girl who used his sister’s name, wore her clothes, and was wasting away.

Igon couldn’t even remember when he first met Evelyn, at the end of his childhood.

It was around the time when the boy inside him was holding onto hope with tattered hands.

He realized he could never go back, but still, he hoped to live a soft and peaceful life, even if it was an illusion.

When he returned home, his mother, with crazed eyes, was waiting for him.

The dignified lady, who had never hugged him for fear of ruining her clothing, was nowhere to be seen.

Her vacant eyes and incessant strange mutterings filled the room.

And beside her was a girl.

The poor child was being pushed around.

Feeding her was an impulsive choice.

She was so skinny and near death, just like him.

He remembered her devouring food like a beast when he told her to eat as much as she could.

And when their eyes met, she smiled.

Correction, she smiled and then cried.

Anyway, in that moment, that child blossomed in Igon’s heart.

The only thing left for him in the world.

He accepted it simply because he couldn’t stop it.

You are my comfort, my last hope in this world.

Igon thought of Evelyn that way.

* * *

I opened my eyes again.

The smell of alcohol, the softness of the bed and the warmth of the blanket behind me.

‘I guess it’s not time for me to die yet,’ I thought, but in the hazy memories, the pain had been so intense that it felt strange to wake up like this.

I woke up without even a groan, as if I had just had a deep sleep.

My eyes snapped open.

“Are you awake?”

I turned my head at the question from above.

Igon was standing there.

“Igon…”

My voice sounded strange.

I tried to say more but then closed my mouth.

I thought I was okay, but of course, my left arm was bandaged.

“You were unconscious for three days.”

That long?

I knew I had been lying down for a while, but I didn’t expect it to be that long.

No wonder my body felt stiff.

When I opened my mouth and looked up at him, Igon pressed his fingertip to my forehead.

“I told you not to worry about the Crown Prince and just run.”

Even as he said that, a soft expression, as if he couldn’t help it, crossed his face.

“Fortunately, I arrived early and took care of it, and the poison from the monster didn’t seep deeply, so you recovered quickly.”

You’ve been lying down for three days, and that’s considered a quick recovery?

A sense of unease, similar to what I felt before I collapsed, enveloped me.

What kind of life has Igon lived?

“There won’t be a next time, but if a similar situation arises, you must run.”

His scolding voice was more stern than before.

It was naturally something he could say.

Seeing me nod in response, Igon’s face softened.

He gently stroked my hair.

“Of course, there won’t be a next time.”

He echoed his earlier words, almost as if to reassure himself.

“Evelyn.”

He slowly caressed my hair.

It was hard to read the emotions reflected in his pale eyes.

There were too many, and they were too complex.

He sat down on a small chair next to the bed.

His eyes looked tired, as if he had been worried a lot.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead.

I recovered quickly.

After I opened my eyes, everything was fine except for the wound on my arm.

I didn’t have any severe pain, but it was said that it would take about fifteen days for the swelling from the monster’s poison to subside.

During that time, I had to rest, take the prescribed medicine, and apply ointment.

On the other hand, Kenneth’s recovery was slower.

As soon as I regained consciousness, I asked about Kenneth’s condition. They said he collapsed right after searching for people and hadn’t woken up since.

The next day, I heard he had woken up, but there were also grim stories about pus forming in the wound on his ankle where the monster bit him.

The doctor said it seemed to be a result of not receiving proper treatment initially.

Naturally, I was very worried about him.

He had saved my life.

Not once, but twice.

I wanted to visit him and ask about his condition directly, but even though I could get up and move, I couldn’t see him.

To be precise, it wasn’t that I couldn’t see Kenneth; rather, I was half-confined to my room.

I couldn’t meet anyone except for the maid who took care of me, the doctor, and Igon.

I had become the focal point of a major incident, drawing a lot of attention.

An investigator had visited once.

Through his questions, I could tell that the case was being sorted out to some extent.

I had many things I wanted to ask, like how Stella was doing, but I didn’t have the courage.

I was afraid of what the answers might be.

I was already hurt by Stella’s words.

“I’ve hated you for a long time.”

Following Igon’s advice to focus on my treatment, I stayed secluded in my room.

It was more comforting that way.

Complete rest was a good excuse.

I checked on Kenneth’s condition through the doctor who moved between our rooms.

To my question.

“Is he okay?”

Kenneth’s rather curt reply was, “The lady should worry about herself.”

I chuckled, thinking it was typical of him.

After the swelling in my hand went down, I wrote a brief card to him to express my gratitude and alleviate my boredom.

There was no reply.

I also sent some fruit that was good for inflammation through the maid.

Since Kenneth was also reducing his swelling, I sent him tea that was good for reducing swelling.

A kind of camaraderie formed between us, born from shared suffering.