Chapter 86: Those Steps (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 86: Those Steps (5)
After everything I went through to keep you alive.
If you die by a pathetic blade like that, what does that make my life?
You absolute lunatic.
* * *
The sword vanished from Calian’s hand.
In the same instant, Franz lost all strength and collapsed to the floor.
Only then did the venue erupt into chaos. The crowd finally processed that Calian manifesting a blue aura was not the only shocking event they had just witnessed.
The Queen had swung a blade at the Prince!
Forced to watch his son bleed yet again, Lemain stumbled as he rushed toward Franz.
“Franz.”
Alan caught the king, then clicked his tongue as he glanced at Calian, worried that the prince had just exposed his power in front of everyone.
However, knowing what was more urgent, Alan turned back to Lemain.
“You must leave this place first, Your Majesty. It could be dangerous.”
Without another word, he began escorting Lemain out, shielding him from the pandemonium.
At his cue, the knights of Kaera moved in perfect unison. Some escorted Lemain alongside Alan, while others bound Silike and dragged her away. The remaining knights cleared the nobles from the hall and secured the perimeter.
The mages of Valkan blocked the entrance to the Wilhelm Pavilion, preventing anyone else from entering and preempting any further attacks that might arise from the chaos.
Standing at the very center of it all, Calian saw none of it. It would be more accurate to say he had no time to look.
He couldn’t spare a single thought for having used aura in front of so many people. He pushed aside all worries about what Lemain, Yan, Randel, or even Evan must be thinking after witnessing what he had kept hidden.
Biting his lip, Calian pressed down on Franz’s wound.
The curse swirling in his mind finally slipped past his lips.
“You crazy bastard.”
Franz had already lost consciousness.
Silike’s dagger had left a merciless gash—long and deep. Dark red blood pulsed from the wound with every beat of his heart.
The power of the blessing alone was not enough.
If Sispanian had truly wished for her descendants to be special, she should have left behind a stronger blessing. But she hadn’t left that much power.
Because she was, damn her, far too considerate.
At this rate, he was going to die.
Staring at the ceaseless flow of blood, Calian urged, “A healer, quickly.”
“Someone has already gone to fetch one. The young master went to Chermil Palace, since it would be faster for Hina to come herself,” Kyrie replied, his voice cutting clearly through the uproar as he knelt beside Calian and joined him in applying pressure to the wound.
Suddenly, a thought struck Calian, and his head snapped up.
There was a healer right here.
Randel was here.
“Ran—”
Calian, who had raised his head to call out, stopped mid-word. His mouth slowly closed.
Randel was still in his seat, staring intently in their direction. Calian’s gaze met his instantly.
And in that moment, Calian saw it.
He saw the terrifyingly rational, cold depths of Randel.
Randel was different from him.
He stood up from his seat. He turned. And he walked away.
He refused to let his hidden self be revealed.
Seeing this, Calian let out a hollow laugh. Instead of resentment, he put more strength into the hands pressing down on the wound. Another curse slipped through his clenched teeth.
Before long, he saw Hina running toward them.
* * *
Silike, who had been sitting quietly in her cell, raised her head.
The sound of footsteps, neither fast nor slow, echoed down the dark corridor. The cadence alone was enough to tell her who was coming.
Soon, the footsteps stopped. A brief silence fell.
The figure standing silently beyond the iron bars watched her for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice incredibly low and heavy.
“I heard you were looking for me.”
Her blood-stained dress, the bandages wrapped where her right hand should have been, her pale face—Silike’s appearance was a world away from how she had looked that morning. And yet, she remained unchanged. Still beautiful, still dripping with venom.
“I called you because there is something I wanted to ask,” Silike said, her brow furrowing slightly as her eyes flicked to her severed right wrist, which seemed to pain her. Calian watched her with an expressionless face.
After a brief silence, Silike spoke again.
“You.”
Her eyes swept over every detail of Calian’s features. He silently waited for her to continue.
“You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”
Calian let out a hollow laugh. It was not the question he had expected. Had she summoned him all the way down here just for that? What could she possibly be so curious about now?
Soon, he gave a casual nod.
Sensing the shift in her gaze, Calian added, “Who doesn’t have secrets?”
He had no reason, nor any intention, to reveal his to Silike.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but Calian had no desire to discuss it further and cut her off.
“Since I’m here, let me ask you something as well.”
Silike did not answer, but Calian took her silence as assent.
“Former Queen Aisha. Was it you who killed her?”
He wanted to confirm if Silike was truly involved in the death of the former Queen, Randel’s mother.
“Aisha…”
After murmuring the name, Silike feigned a moment of thought before her face lit up with realization. Wearing a smile that was as innocent as it was cruel—the kind a young child might make—she looked straight at Calian.
“How could I ever forget? It was the very first poison I delivered with my own hands.”
So she had killed Aisha, too.
Speechless at how she spoke of it like a fond memory, Calian let out a quiet chuckle. He felt he should almost thank her for letting Lemain live this long.
Silike’s soft voice echoed down the corridor. “I have been so honest with you. Yet you are not.”
Having said her piece, she simply stared at him, as if waiting for an answer. But Calian had no desire to converse with her any longer.
He was about to turn and leave when he paused, staring at her for a moment. He took a quiet, deep breath and spoke again. It was not an answer, but a new question.
“I thought you would ask me the moment you saw me. But you haven’t. You haven’t asked if your son is dead or alive.”
Despite having swung a blade at her own son, Silike had not asked a single thing about him.
At Calian’s words, she spoke in a cold, detached voice.
“…He got in my way until the very end.”
A terribly cruel misunderstanding. And a deliberate refusal to see the truth.
Calian looked down at the floor, his eyes slightly lowered. “I don’t even want to say any more, but… I’m also quite angry.”
He raised his hand and pointed to his own heart.
“I want you to think about how your clumsy little dagger managed to inflict such a severe wound.”
Though he had dropped his formal tone, Silike’s expression did not change. She merely clenched the hem of her dress with her one remaining hand, her eyes drifting to the red stains. It was impossible to tell whose blood it was.
Seeing this, Calian slowly bent down to meet her eyes. He continued in a measured, deliberate tone.
“People usually throw themselves toward what they want to protect.”
Silike did not answer. She kept the same blank expression, staring at the hem of her dress.
Watching her quietly, Calian delivered his final words.
“So, those steps you were taking… you should have turned back. Just once.”
With that, he turned and walked away without so much as a final farewell. Silence descended upon the empty space once more.
Soon, a faint, trembling sob echoed down the corridor.
Whether it was belated regret, sorrow over a path not taken, or something else entirely…
No one cared to wonder anymore.
Not even Silike herself.
* * *
Silike’s execution was carried out swiftly.
They did not scatter Lenisita leaves across the square as Calian had once suggested to Franz. Instead, she was given a poison that would slowly and painfully stop her breath. It was Lemain’s decision.
Whether he did so out of consideration for Franz, who showed no signs of waking, or because he deemed it fitting retribution for the countless people she had poisoned, only Lemain would ever know.
And on the Senyu River that day, not a single petal floated downstream.
No one prepared an Annerusia flower for Silike.
* * *
A week passed like the quiet flow of the Senyu River.
Talk of Silike soon faded as everyone wished to quickly erase the unpleasant memory. In its place, voices speaking of Calian grew louder. There had been, after all, another incident that day, one overshadowed by the queen’s treason.
The countless nobles and knights present had seen it.
What Calian had held in his hand was unmistakably aura.
“The Prince is only fifteen. No one has ever become a Sword Master at that age.”
“Is that all? They say he can use magic as well.”
After such a grim affair, suggestions poured in to Lemain that it was time to announce some good news.
Yet Lemain offered no response. Or rather, he couldn’t. How could he say anything without speaking to Calian first?
Immediately after his final meeting with Silike, Calian had gone straight to Franz’s room. He had not stepped foot outside for a whole week. Since he was constantly by the unconscious prince’s side, even Lemain could not bring himself to drag him out.
“So…” Lemain spoke quietly, rubbing his forehead. His mind was in turmoil, and the hulking knight sitting before him was spouting utter nonsense. “Are you telling me that Calian stepped onto the Path of the Sword while learning basic self-defense from his guard?”
Yan, who had just said something that would make Suleiman—a man who had dedicated his life to the sword—foam at the mouth and faint, looked entirely serious. In fact, his face was filled with immense pride over Calian’s achievement.
As if his mountain of worries over Franz wasn’t enough, Calian’s situation was now compounding Lemain’s distress. To make matters worse, Alan was nowhere to be found. When Lemain had mentioned summoning Yan, Alan had simply said it wouldn’t be much help before walking out, and he hadn’t returned since.
“Fine. I understand. You may leave.”
In the end, Lemain dismissed Yan without gaining anything useful. His sighs grew deeper, wishing only for Franz to wake up so Calian would finally come out of that room.
* * *
Meanwhile, at that very moment, Chermil Palace—home to the two princes responsible for Lemain’s sighs—was buried in a silence that stood in stark contrast to the king’s turbulent mind.
While the outside world was already forgetting Silike, Chermil Palace could not. Consequently, no one dared to speak carelessly, casting a heavy silence over the residence that made one wonder if princes even lived there at all. The atmosphere on the fourth floor, where Franz stayed, was more depressing than anywhere else in the Kairis Royal Palace, and everyone was reluctant to set foot there.
Thus, no one knew.
“…So, why aren’t you leaving?”
That the Second Prince of Kairis had already woken up and was snapping irritably, looking perfectly healthy.
“I haven’t found an excuse yet.”
And that Calian had been holed up there for a week simply because he couldn’t find the words to explain how he had stepped onto the Path of the Sword.
Calian, who had no idea what kind of ordeal Lemain was suffering after calling in Yan, spoke with an utterly shameless expression.
“Don’t mind me, just rest. You must still be dizzy.”
Franz fell silent.
A cat wearing a collar that read, ‘I am Prince Calian’s cat,’ had climbed onto the bed and was meowing. Beside it, a maid was busily moving her hands, conversing with the cat. Behind them, an odd-eyed swordsman stood with wide, glaring eyes without saying a word, while next to him, a 7th Circle mage chattered at him incessantly.
When Franz had first opened his eyes two days ago to this scene, he had briefly wondered if they were doing this out of concern that he might be depressed over Silike.
But they weren’t exactly brothers with that kind of deep, loving affection.
“…Go.”
Is he even my brother?
Watching Franz, Calian just grinned.
It was a clear refusal.