Chapter 302: Destiny
The streets of the imperial capital were dark and deserted, not a soul in sight. The heavy atmosphere of death filled the vast square, and without a word, everyone knew that another period of mourning had begun.
“Let go of me!”
“Your Highness... please compose yourself.”
Unlike the eerie silence of the capital’s streets, the Sun Hall of the imperial palace was in chaos.
“Get out of my way!”
Thud!!
Chancellor Bryn Ennik was knocked to the ground, rolling in an ungraceful heap. Blood trickled from his mouth, and a few teeth were missing, but he didn’t even have time to register the pain. He quickly scrambled to his feet.
“Brother,” a low voice called from the far end of the hall.
“...Please maintain decorum. The emperor’s funeral is not yet over.”
“Silence! How dare you!” First Prince Luon snarled at Olivurn.
“What a disgrace. The late emperor would weep at such a sight. The empire, with a thousand years of history, seems likely to end with this generation,” another voice cut through the tension, addressing the despairing Olivurn and the enraged Luon.
“How dare you! In the presence of the emperor...!”
Bang―!!
A fist struck the face of the knight who had just spoken boldly. His skull caved with a sickening crunch, and he slammed into a pillar, blood oozing down the stone.
“...!!”
“...!!”
“...Emperor?”
Even the enraged Luon suddenly fell silent, swallowing dry as he turned around.
A massive figure blocked the entrance to the Sun Hall, blotting out the light. He towered over the guards by at least two heads, and despite having just killed a knight within the imperial palace, no one dared to stop him.
Law? Order? This man was beyond all that.
Gordon Fabian tore a piece of the dead knight’s cloak and used it to wipe his hands.
“Hey, boy,” he quietly addressed Olivurn.
The weight in his voice sent a shudder through the other knights.
His mana has grown stronger.
His strength was already unmatched among the Five Sword Masters... Has he now mastered mana as well?
Were the reports of his declining health wrong?
Unaware of what had transpired in the Ghost Castle, the people of the empire watched him with trembling eyes.
“Why are you sitting there, pretending to be king?”
“...What do you mean by that?”
“A sharp mind like yours can't possibly misunderstand my words. How do you have the confidence to sit on that throne ahead of the rightful heir, the First Prince?”
“Gordon...!!”
“Mind your words!!”
As soon as Gordon finished speaking, Kuwell MacGovern and the head of the knights, Belin Vallention, lashed out at him.
“You heard him, didn't you? Even a mere mercenary knows what’s right, yet you’ve blatantly ignored it! I will never forgive you...!” Luon shouted, emboldened by Gordon’s remark.
However, despite Luon’s apparent confidence, Olivurn’s expression remained unchanged.
“First Kromen, and now Brother Luon. The Guidance Mercenary Gang seems to have no connection to me.”
“I am on no one’s side.”
Gordon placed his hand on Luon’s head, who was standing in front of him.
“...!!”
Gordon’s massive hand, large enough to swallow Luon’s entire head, pressed down with such force that Luon let out a choked gasp, his neck straining under the force.
“If you can withstand a strike from Gordon Fabian, you can negotiate a contract. And if you manage to counterattack, you can form an oath.”
“...”
“The reason the Guidance Mercenary Gang helped the empire is because the emperor and I formed an oath. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
Gordon tossed aside the cloak he had been using to wipe his hands. It landed on the headless corpse of the knight, draping over it like a shroud.
“Kid, time passes equally for everyone. To you, he may have seemed like nothing more than an ambitious, decrepit old man, but back when he was your age, he was great enough to form an oath with me. I wonder, do you have that kind of potential too?”
Gordon pointed his still bloodied fist at Olivurn and sneered, “Care to try?”
The room fell silent. No one could keep their composure in the face of the fist that had obliterated an imperial guard knight with a single strike.
“Or perhaps you, Luon?"
Gordon looked down at the prince.
“Th-That... I...” Luon stammered, his earlier bravado completely gone.
The sight only further cemented in the minds of the onlookers that the First Prince wasn’t a true beast of the royal bloodline, but just a sheltered flower.
“Gordon, the late emperor may have treated you, a mere mercenary, like nobility, but just as youth eventually fades, so does the respect you were once shown. If you plan to cause more trouble, I suggest you leave.”
“The two sons of the Conqueror King don’t seem that worthy. Out of respect for old times, I’ll give you one piece of advice, Olivurn. Other than Titan Shutean, only one man has ever dared to face my fist. That’s the opponent you should be worried about.”
“As you say, I lack the courage to face your fist. I have no desire to throw myself into certain death.”
“Hmph...” Gordon scoffed at Olivurn’s words. “Then there’s nothing more to discuss. I came only to attend the funeral. Remember this—the Guidance Mercenary Gang only makes deals with the emperor.”
He turned to leave, waving his hand dismissively.
“Sir, is the courage to face death the only thing that matters?”
Gordon stopped upon hearing that.
“I believe survival is more important. While the scale of one’s destiny may vary, everyone is born with their own purpose. Some are destined to cultivate fields, while others are meant to bring peace to the world.”
“And?”
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“But the greater the destiny, the more sacrifices must be endured. A king can only exist on stable land built by his predecessors. However, we are in a time of war. Those born with the burden of a king’s destiny may appear to care for all, but in truth, they must wield a cold blade within.”
“You talk a lot, kid. What are you getting at?”
Clang―!!
At that moment, the knights in the Sun Hall moved as one. Gordon quickly assumed a defensive stance, but to his surprise, the swords were not aimed at him.
“Ugh...!”
A sword pierced Luon’s side. Gordon stared in disbelief at the knight who had just struck.
And then—
“Y-Your Highness!!!”
Schlick!
Chancellor Bryn Ennik’s scream echoed through the Sun Hall, but no one else shared his grief. What was even more shocking was that the knights who beheaded Luon belonged to the Wisteria Knights, the only group Luon and the empress had trusted.
“Call me a coward if you will, but I have responsibilities. I must prioritize my safety and that of the people.”
“Ha... Hahaha.”
Gordon couldn’t help but laugh at Olivurn’s ruthlessness in executing Luon.
“Who enjoys war? Even wandering mercenaries dream of raising families and living peaceful lives. Especially those who never know when they might die—they have an even stronger desire to leave descendants behind. A king must care for all his people, even those like you.”
Gordon Fabian’s eyebrow twitched at that moment.
“You... No way... You’re not...”
“I’ve established an estate in a quiet place near the empire’s northern border. Now, the members of the Guidance Mercenary Gang can comfortably meet with their families. The location is a bit toward the north to accommodate a large area for the airships to land, but there’s an excellent knight order stationed there, so you need not worry about safety.”
The northern border of the empire—there was no need for further explanation. Gordon glared at Kuwell, his voice a low growl as though ready to devour him.
“Since when did the Blue Knights stoop to the level of scoundrels who take hostages? Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not.”
Olivurn raised his hand, and soldiers brought forward a large chest.
“This is a legitimate offer to do business with the Guidance Mercenary Gang, with fair compensation for your efforts. I’ll pay as much as you desire.”
“You're even craftier than your father.”
“It’s what the gods have ordained. No matter what you think of me, who’s to say that the families of your men won’t be grateful for this meeting in the future? History will be the judge, but what's important is that this is the beginning.”
“...Be careful, boy. I’ll make sure to repay this debt one day.”
“Don’t worry,” Olivurn responded with a faint smile. “The empire I’m going to build will be more than able to pay off that debt. History will record us anew.”
***
“Kuwell.”
They were in the hallway leading through the Sun Hall.
“It must have been him who killed the emperor,” Gordon Fabian said without even looking back.
“I don’t care what the world says, but I do care about what the world doesn’t know. The nobles didn’t even bat an eye. The emperor’s funeral was, in fact, a setup to lure the First Prince and kill him.”
Gordon smirked as he went on, “The empire is getting hit by storm after storm. And in the end, that man claimed the throne, seated upon a bloodstained seat. However...”
He then turned toward Kuwell.
“It seems you haven’t told Olivurn about what we saw that day in the north, during the Extermination Decree of Heresy.”
“...”
Kuwell, who had followed Gordon out of the Sun Hall, stiffened at his words.
“You know why I showed it to you, and not to anyone else? It’s because, despite being of the empire, you were a friend of Karliak.”
At the mention of that name, Kuwell’s expression grew somber, as if he had swallowed a sharp blade.
“I still don’t know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. The Guidance Mercenary Gang fulfills its contracts. However, you don’t think I accepted him out of concern for my family’s safety, do you?” Gordon asked.
“It’s because I wanted to see both of them with my own eyes. Karyl and, this time, Olivurn. I don’t yet know which of the two we saw in the Thousand-Year Ice Cave is the rightful king... This is to confirm bloodline, not character.”
“Yes, you needed a valid reason to return to the north. But I wonder if siding with the emperor instead of Karyl will help or destroy you. Can you bring yourself to kill Karyl?”
“Yes.”
Gordon nodded.
“But I can also kill your king.”
“...”
“They will meet in the north, eventually.”
Kuwell remained silent at Gordon’s words. Both of them instinctively knew that what they had discovered in the north would become a major turning point.
“In Karliak’s tomb.”
***
“Phew...”
With each breath, a white puff of vapor drifted through the frigid air.
“The terrain here is harsh. Do people really live in a place like this?”
“Well, you live in a tower with no light. Compared to that, this place is much better.”
“Hah...” Aidan let out a soft chuckle at Karyl’s remark. “It may be dark in the tower, but at least it’s not this cold.”
“Are you saying darkness is better than the cold? That’s just because you’ve gotten used to it. To the immigrants, the cold is like darkness for the Burning Darkness.”
Despite Karyl’s words, Aidan couldn’t imagine ever getting used to this biting cold.
“You should be glad to be here.”
“I suppose so. If I were in my right mind, I wouldn’t have willingly wandered into this frigid land. I’m having quite the experience thanks to you, my lord. I think I might hate snow for the rest of my life,” Aidan quipped, tightening his collar once more.
“From the Mythical Era to the present, wars have raged between the northern immigrant tribes, barbarians, and the people of the continent. Yet, in all those centuries of history, there is no mention of the northern immigrant tribes ever winning. Do you know why that is?”
“...?”
“Their victories were simply never recorded. Do you know why? The northern immigrant tribes have no history. They don’t leave anything behind, nor do they attempt to. They simply live in the present.”
Aidan could only look at Karyl, unsure of what he was trying to convey.
“But in contrast, the people of the continent record everything in history. Future generations judge the prophets, label someone a hero, and another as a villain, all based on those records.”
Karyl kept speaking in a low voice, almost as if he was talking to himself.
“Do not trust history blindly. There is far more hidden within the shadows of what we know as history.”
“...!!”
Before Aidan realized it, he found himself under the gaze of the tribespeople, tensing up. Karyl, however, paid them no mind and kept trudging up the mountain.
Clang―!!
Shing―!!
Thousands of immigrants drew their swords in unison, pointing them at Karyl.
“Are you the one who dares to challenge the Sword Festival?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then draw your sword. I, Hwarin, the chief of the Jannabi tribe, will face you on behalf of the northern immigrant tribes.”
Even in that chilling moment, Karyl looked at her with a gaze that almost seemed welcoming.
“You may rejoice.”
Then he turned to Aidan and said, “At last... the final step. You’re about to witness the moment the empire’s history is erased.”
Those who seek to write history and those who seek to erase it; those who draw the sword and those who wield it—different yet undeniably the same.
In the end, their fates would cross paths once more, even if time were to reverse. The swords clashed, and the north trembled.