Ever since the count had been falsely accused and nearly executed, my friend—who had since settled back into the count’s household and become its pride—looked displeased.
He still occasionally showed that distinct ignorance typical of nobles, but much of his awkwardness from the past had faded.
His curly white hair stirred in the wind.
“You need to stop letting your wounds heal on their own just because of your aversion.”
“I’ve been trying.”
“We can’t just recklessly run around like before.”
Kyle, who had been standing with his arms crossed, leaned forward.
From the golden light in his eyes, I could read both disapproval and concern. I smiled faintly.
“You know your position. The world’s already in chaos; we can’t afford to lose someone like you. You understand the weight of your role. How long do you plan to keep acting recklessly?”
“I have no excuse. It might sound like one, but I really am trying.”
“It’s probably just habit now. We’ll help you with it.”
Kyle said something incomprehensible.
When I blinked in confusion, the dark-haired man continued.
“After your next absorption, we’ll have you eat that soup.”
“Huh?”
“That way, your aversion to absorption might weaken.”
Kyle was serious, and Rei beside him looked equally so.
“You’ll start associating absorption with the soup.”
“No.”
This sounded like training for a dog.
I looked at them in disbelief, but they were genuinely earnest. It seemed they’d discussed this beforehand—deciding to try something like this to ease Hildebert’s aversion.
I appreciated the thought, but—
“I don’t know if that’ll really work. I already eat soup regularly even without doing absorption.”
“We’ll ask my chef to make a new menu based on that soup.”
Rei spoke in that effortlessly noble way only he could.
We didn’t tease him for things like that anymore.
He had become a real noble again.
Well, he’d always been one—but now he no longer despised his family.
He genuinely devoted himself to protecting the count’s house, often commuting between there and his duties.
“You know how skilled my chef is,” he said.
“...I do. But still.”
“He’s planning to add noodles to the soup.”
Ignoring my reluctant expression, Rei continued.
“So it’ll be more filling. Doesn’t that sound good? We’ll use that for your desensitization training.”
And what about my opinion?
The words reached my throat but didn’t escape. They did have a point. Other children of the World Tree used absorption freely to recover their bodies, while I kept living with lingering wounds.
And as Kyle had said, I was a Knight Commander. I no longer had the luxury of shrugging it off, saying, “It’s my body anyway.”
The soup with noodles would probably taste good, but what if I just threw it all up afterward?
Even as I thought that, I nodded slowly.
***
All three attempts failed.
Just like back when I’d transferred nutrients to Kyle as he stood on the brink of life and death during the rebellion—this time too, I threw up three or four times beside my friends.
I couldn’t even get the soup down before retching.
Kyle and Rei sighed as they pounded my back while I coughed.
“Forget the food. We’ll have to try something else.”
Kyle lifted me easily once my seizure subsided.
“Looks like that new menu was pointless.”
“Still, have him make it...” I said hoarsely.
“Just hearing about it sounds so damn good...”
“Do your subordinates know about this?” Rei asked, frowning.
“No. And they must never find out.”
I replied firmly.
Kyle had already scolded me, but I fully understood the weight of my title.
Without straining my body, I spoke seriously.
“A Knight Commander has his pride. Keep my seizures a secret until I die.”
Then I got scolded again—for knowing that yet still acting like this.
But we didn’t have much time to bicker anymore.
All three of us were busy now.
We weren’t free like before.
Kyle had to head north to subdue the invaders, I had to find Kysis, and Rei had to quell the riots breaking out in the capital.
“Invasions are frequent these days.”
“Places outside the capital aren’t fit to live in anymore.”
When Rei asked, Kyle replied tonelessly.
“The contamination’s gotten so bad, there are places where you can hardly breathe.”
The fact that he wasn’t exaggerating was what made it terrifying.
We left the palace together, walking as far as our paths overlapped.
It was rare for the three of us to meet like this anymore.
The evening sun bled red across the capital.
“It’s been over ten years since I last saw Sir Kysis.”
“I’ll tell him you said hello when I find him.”
I could feel clearly that he was still alive.
“And if you send a messenger pigeon, does he even bother to read it?”
Preparing for departure didn’t take long.
Thankfully, my subordinates moved in perfect order.
Even though the command had come suddenly and the mission couldn’t possibly be completed in a short time, none of them showed any discontent.
I was «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» grateful they didn’t.
Thinking I should treat them better, I set off toward where I felt Kysis’s presence.
A summons given directly from the Emperor’s own lips.
An indefinite mission had begun.
***
Two months later.
I found Kysis.
“Haah—!”
The rookie knight gasped for breath.
“T-that, that, that....”
“Hiiiik!”
“What is that...?”
Raw, unfiltered reactions.
I raised my arm, signaling them to move back.
Nori and Yvon understood instantly. They leapt forward and pushed the stunned knights back. The inexperienced soldiers stumbled away, barely able to hold their swords.
As I felt their presence retreat, I looked ahead at the one approaching.
Kysis.
The Emperor’s illegitimate son, and the third Swordmaster of the capital.
A man who hated order, prone to whim, always soaked in ennui yet seeking stimulation.
With his captivating violet eyes, he scattered scandals wherever he went—sometimes violently unpredictable, sometimes astonishingly merciful.
He was the one who had given me both inferiority and purpose.
The one who had become the guiding star of my sword.
And I realized at once—I still hadn’t caught up to him.
From the moment I saw that knight slowly walking toward me through the corrupted air, I knew.
“Sir Kysis.”
“Well, look who it is.”
When I called his name with conflicted emotion, Kysis smiled faintly.
“My little fledgling, isn’t it?”
It was hell.
I’d often heard Kyle say that everything outside the capital was hell, and I’d seen plenty of horrors myself. But what spread before my eyes now was unlike anything else.
This ruined city—two full months’ ride from the capital—made every contamination I’d ever seen before seem trivial.
The rookie knights couldn’t even breathe properly.
The corruption had swallowed gravel and stone alike.
Their throats constricted, their eyes reddened. From the gaping mouths of the infection, worm-like monsters wriggled out one after another.
The ground was blanketed with rotting corpses—boars, horses, humans.
If we went a bit farther from here, we’d reach the fallen city where the World Tree stood.
The very city I’d once plunged into, cloak drawn tight, when I was young.
Was that place as corrupted as this now?
“I thought you’d die on the way.”
Kysis wiped the smile from his lips and said coldly,
“What are you doing here?”
“Have you been stationed here, cutting away the contamination all this time?”
I sheathed my sword and stepped closer to him.
His striking face hadn’t changed.
“You didn’t send any word.”
“Why are there so many underlings? Still wearing that dull title, I see?”
The imperial bastard’s violet gaze swept over Nori, Yvon, and the others with a smirk.
“What’s so great about that boring order of knights?”
A remark like that should have provoked the pride of any knight.
But none of them reacted.
The men behind me couldn’t even imagine stepping closer.
They were crushed beneath the sheer killing intent and pressure emanating from him.
With each step I took toward him, the smell of blood and corruption thickened.
If not for him, the situation would’ve been far worse.
Ten years of battle.
The man who had fought endlessly, unseen and unacknowledged, now radiated something almost inhuman.
I stopped in front of him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Please rest.”
He raised a brow, and I said,
“I’ll take over from here.”
The imperial bastard laughed.
His laughter echoed through the ruined city, overlapping like the howl of something deranged.
My subordinates recoiled, horrified.
I kept my expression still, waiting for him to stop.
After a while, Kysis turned his head.
“You?”
I expected that response.
“And what are you supposed to be? Think you’re something now?”
“Have you even been sleeping properly?”
Judging from his face, probably not.
There was no point in proper conversation with someone like this.
I’d long since learned how to deal with such people.
So I ignored what he said and continued with what I wanted to say.
“The camp gear’s a bit shabby, but it’s still better than sleeping on bare ground. Go get some rest.”
“You’ve grown cheekier, haven’t you, brat?”
“We’ll talk after you’ve slept.”
“Who said I’d talk?”
“Guys, set up camp!”
I shouted, cleanly ignoring Kysis’s words.
Maybe because I spoke in the same tone and rhythm as always, the soldiers—exhausted, terrified, overwhelmed—straightened up instinctively.
All that training had paid off.
“Yes, sir!”
Their deep voices resonated across the area.
Kysis clicked his tongue.
“You’ve turned into a dull bureaucrat.”
“Try looking like a person first before saying that.”
I had to work hard to hide my agitation.
“Have you even washed your hair?”
Kysis only gave a small, crooked smile, saying nothing.
But thankfully, he obeyed.
He strolled lazily toward the area where the men were setting up, then disappeared into the best tent available.
Once I saw him collapse inside, I drew my sword.
The man who’d fought a lonely war for ten years with no recognition.
I needed to at least gauge how heavy that burden had been.
***
“There’s no hope anymore.”
Those were Kysis’s first words to me after sleeping for two days straight.
“Prepare to retreat.”
