Chapter 262
Chapter 262
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 262
Chapter Title: 74. When the Night is Long, Dreams are Deep (1)
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Adelia Bayern had always thought so.
That His Highness was somehow strange.
It wasn't about his sudden change in personality.
He was an utterly dualistic being.
It was a bit different from simply having an outward facade and a hidden true self.
Sometimes he seemed like an old man who had seen through the ways of the world. Other times, like a child just beginning to learn about it.
He was wiser than anyone else, yet more ignorant than anyone.
Greedier than anyone in one moment, utterly devoid of ambition in the next.
Ferocious yet magnanimous.
He was an elder etched with the wisdom of years in every deep wrinkle. A innocent child without a single crease.
He was like a being molded from all the contradictory facets a human could possess.
Perhaps that's why.
The evaluations of those who met him, or went through experiences with him, were sharply divided.
To the knights, he was a valiant, bold, and devoted warrior.
To the nobles, a brutal, cunning, and ruthless crown prince.
To the maids and servants, a straightforward and generous supporter.
And to Adelia Bayern,
"He's lovable... and fragile."
He seemed like a frightened child.
For someone as timid and delicate as her—the most fragile soul—to describe the kingdom's greatest knight this way would invite ridicule from the world.
But she truly believed it.
The first time that thought crossed her mind was around the time the previous Count Ballerhard fell in battle.
Back then, he had turned pale as a ghost, like a child who had committed a grave mistake. He cowered, fidgeting anxiously, fearing blame from anyone.
The image of the young prince, unable even to express the grief filling his chest, shedding no tears—it remained vividly etched in her heart even years later.
How heartbreaking and pitiable he looked, toppling the Orc King only to finally unleash the pent-up sorrow in heaving sobs.
That was when Adelia first truly sensed his age.
After that, he grew bolder. More valiant. Stronger.
That's how it appeared to others.
But Adelia, who served him right by his side, saw it differently.
He shrank inward more. Grew more fearful. Weaker.
Terrified of losing those he cherished, he fretted alone in fear.
Some nights, as if plagued by nightmares, he groaned in his sleep and shed tears. On those nights, Adelia Bayern stayed by his side until dawn, holding his hand tightly and wiping the moisture from his cheeks.
When he awoke, he remembered nothing of his nighttime torment and went about his day as usual.
Uncle. The men of the North. The sword maidens.
As the war dragged on, the names he murmured in his sleep grew ever longer. Yet he remained oblivious to his own dreams.
It was a secret known only to Adelia Bayern, not even to him.
At least until the night the Queen's death reached Silver Lion Fortress.
The king, who visited late at night, personally wiped down His Highness's huddled, sweat-soaked, trembling body.
And that was when he first learned what nightmares tormented his supposedly steadfast eldest son every night.
After that night, the king's demeanor toward him softened noticeably.
Adelia Bayern didn't find it strange at all.
Anyone who knew of the pitiable man murmuring apologies dozens, hundreds of times in his nightly nightmares—bearing the weight of death and grief—could not treat him harshly.
But even knowing the weight of his sorrow, there was something the king didn't know.
The most heartbreaking contradiction among his many dualities and inconsistencies.
He feared terribly for the safety of those he loved. Yet he showed an abnormal lack of concern for his own life and death.
As if it didn't matter when he died, as if collapsing from exhaustion in battle was enough.
Watching this, Adelia Bayern realized.
When the moment came to choose between life and death, he would choose his own death without hesitation.
After that realization, Adelia Bayern changed.
She wanted to be his strength. To prevent such a moment from ever arriving—or if it did, to take his place.
Even volunteering for the force to subjugate the rogue mercenaries stemmed from that resolve.
But despite her efforts, the moment she had desperately hoped would never come... arrived.
Struggling to hold on before an overwhelming presence she had never imagined,
"Adelia."
His voice reached her.
Amid the soul-crushing pressure, she turned toward the sound.
There he was.
With a serene expression utterly out of place in the dire situation.
Her heart sank.
Ominous imaginings crept into her mind.
She denied them.
It can't be. It mustn't be.
Her hopes shattered mercilessly.
Thanks to that, she had a pleasant dream.
A voice that felt dreamlike, somehow detached from reality.
Her head spun. Her legs gave way.
She paled.
Forcing her rigid body to move.
The price for ignoring the irresistible presence and pushing forward was excruciating pain.
Blood trickled from beneath Adelia Bayern's dainty nose. It surged from her clenched teeth.
Blood streamed from her ears and eyes.
Unable to endure, she finally collapsed.
"Urk."
She reached out. Curled her fingers, clawed at the ground. Gripping until her nails tore and broke, she dragged herself forward with all her might.
Thus, she crawled across the floor.
"Y-Your Highness!"
Screaming with her mouth.
But before her cry, her body could reach him,
Squelch.
A gruesome sound of flesh tearing pierced her ears.
Drip, drip, drip.
Beneath his turned back, red blood pooled from his feet.
Fresh crimson soaked his soles, forming a small puddle.
"Ah... Aah..."
Her body trembled like a leaf.
Eyes wide, nearly tearing apart,
"Kyaaaaaah!"
She screamed.
And at that exact moment,
"O godless kin who have broken the Great War Pact."
A voice mingled with coughs, yet startlingly clear, bored into her ears.
"As witness to the declaration, I command thee."
The world shuddered.
"Return to thy promised exile."
Whoosh!
Dazzling light erupted, swallowing the world.
And time passed.
Adelia had no idea how much.
When she regained her senses, the first thing she saw was the remnants of the elf soldiers—only their armor left behind, traces vanished.
But,
"Aah..."
The cursed monster remained.
Though her neatly pinned hair had come undone into disheveled strands, she still stood there.
The elf touched half her face with her hand.
Then shrugged lightly.
The tremor, starting at her shoulders, spread through her entire body.
Thus, shaking all over,
"Hee hee."
She giggled.
"Ahh. I never imagined Your Highness would shove that pathetic scrap of a pact in my face—one no one even remembers. I have nothing to say but that it's truly astonishing."
After laughing like a madwoman for a while, she lowered her hand.
An empty socket, as if the eye had never existed.
"But what a shame. After chipping away at your lifespan to dredge up that ancient pact, all it took was a few Sentinels and one eyeball."
The elf shook with mad laughter again.
"It doesn't matter."
Then he spoke.
"If you break the pact, I merely enforce it."
At his words, the elf flinched, her laughter halting.
But soon she twisted her lips into a grin again.
"I hope you're not foolish enough to think that sword will help. That lump of metal is just a witness— it lacks the power."
"If it were merely a witness, perhaps."
His phlegm-choked voice stabilized astonishingly fast. Conversely, the elf's wavering eyes grew more agitated.
"I am witness and guarantor of the pact."
"What in the world..."
Before the elf could finish, he continued.
"Teacher and friend to Agnes Bayern. Successor to her will."
At that moment, a faint glow emanated from his body.
"Bearer of the Iron Blood name and her indomitable spirit!"
"What nonsense have you been spouting...!"
"Comrade who shared victories and karma in countless wars!"
He drew the sword from his chest with a smooth shing.
"One of the six who ended the Great War!"
In that instant, his sword sang.
Aaaaaah.
An auspicious blade cry, unleashing an untouchable aura in all directions.
"As enforcer of the pact, I hereby decree from this place."
Within the flawless halo of light, he pronounced.
"The sin of breaking the pact warrants annihilation without salvation."
A complete erasure leaving not even a soul—the most horrific death sentence.
The condemned resisted fiercely.
"That dusty old pact—what does it matter now?"
Rooooar.
The elf drew up her power.
"I am executor of the Mistletoe Clan, chief of a thousand Sentinels. The king's sword."
The world quaked as if in an earthquake under her heaven-shaking aura.
"In representation of my clan, I declare here: sever the millennium chains."
As if mocking his decree, the elf sneered.
Before that terrifying presence and blatant scorn, he
"With those words, your clan's fate is sealed."
Merely sighed lowly.
And in that moment, the auspicious light encircling him consumed him entirely.
Clank. Clank.
Heavy metallic sounds echoed from within the radiant orb.
Fierce blue light filled the elf's eyes. Gripping her sword, she gathered light and hammered the orb.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The sky roared, the earth shook.
Each strike held power to crumble a fortress.
Cracks appeared on the golden sphere.
The elf relentlessly targeted the fissures.
Crack.
Finally, with a snap, the sphere split.
Triumph gleamed in the elf's eyes.
But it was premature.
Swoosh.
Auspicious flash burst from the split orb.
The elf twisted away. The flash grazed her, vanishing into the distant plain.
"This is..."
The elf glanced at her severed chestplate, then lifted her trembling gaze to the bisected sphere.
The divided orb dissolved into glowing dust.
And from within, he emerged.
Adorned in resplendent golden armor forged of light, dragon head on left shoulder, lion on right.
Clutching a greatsword as tall as himself.
The golden knight regarded the elf, then intoned flatly.
『The stairs to the heavens shall crumble at last.』
But the ripple of that brief verse was neither flat nor trivial.
『Only the screams of the deceitful atop them as they plummet remain.』
One race thereby lost its possibility forever.