The One Who Lost What Was Precious, to the One Who Forgot It (2)

After that incident, the Third Prince spent the next three days under intensive care.

Of course, it wasn't just treatment. I heard that he'd wept as he offered a heartfelt apology to the Emperor and the Empress, swearing that he would live his life anew.

Naturally, when the Emperor and Empress heard that, they were so grateful to me for bringing him to this point that they offered me a reward: one weapon of my choosing from the imperial armory in the palace's underground vault.

It was payment for the insults he had hurled at both Elli and me, combined with the merit of setting him straight.

Granted, I had forced his correction by baring my own wounds in the process — but I didn't regret it. If he had apologized and resolved to start over, then I'd succeeded in redeeming him, and that was what mattered.

Right now, I was sparring with Elli.

She'd insisted that if I crossed blades with her, all my stray thoughts would simply scatter.

And so, this sparring had become an unshakable part of my daily routine for three days running.

Just as she promised, the clutter in my head melted away without a trace.

Well, of course it did. Dodging her sword was hard enough on its own; letting my mind wander mid-exchange was no different from asking to get pummeled.

"On your right side!"

"Ugh!"

Her wooden blade came slicing in from the right — a perfect recreation of the very attack the Third Prince had used.

I countered the way I had against him, gripping my sword in both hands and raising it vertically to seal off his line of entry.

But my defense was still too green. The impact crashed through my guard all the same, and it felt like she could shatter it whenever she pleased.

"Nngh!"

"Even when you spar with someone weaker than yourself, there is much to learn. If the Third Prince had greater skill and strength than you, Hyun, a defense like that just now would be as good as begging for death."

Then, as if testing whether I'd found the answer, she began to swing her sword along the same arc as before. Something clicked as I read her line of attack, and I took up the same stance once more to stop her blade.

The only difference was that this time, I angled my sword diagonally and let her force slide off it.

If I had taken the blow head-on, the shock would have gone straight into my body — so this was the result of that choice.

And the result was this: her sword came down exactly as before, but because I had focused everything on deflecting its power, her blade was steered straight into the floor. Naturally, that threw her posture off balance in turn.

Seeing what I'd done, Elli smiled at me and reached out to ruffle my sweat-damp hair.

"Ell... Elli, your hands are all sweaty."

"So what? I like everything about the way you smell, Hyun..."

Elli, Elli, what on earth are you saying...?

Just as the two of us had sunk into that cozy, clingy little bubble of ours, I heard footsteps entering the training hall.

I turned my head toward the entrance — and my eyes went wide at the unexpected figure standing there.

It was the Third Prince.

Three days of attention from healers and physicians had all but erased the marks of his beating. A few tender spots were still wrapped in bandages and gauze, making him look for all the world like a man saying I got hurt to anyone who glanced his way — but he was a far sight better than he'd been right after I'd beaten him like a stray dog.

He shuffled hesitantly toward us, head hanging low, as if searching for the words he wanted to say. I knew he'd only just come to his senses, but I held my tongue and simply kept watching him. It was a silent courtesy — waiting until he found his courage. Baring your heart to apologize and beg someone's forgiveness is one of the hardest things a person can do.

At last he seemed to make up his mind. The Third Prince drew one deep breath, bowed his head to me, and spoke.

"I am sorry... Successor. My lord of Cumul Territory."

He'd changed how he addressed me. It seemed he had truly mended his ways after all.

The whole affair had been my attempt to change a person by showing them sincerity — and judging by the results, it had been a resounding success.

For the record, the exact plan Elli and I had chosen to reform him and the First Princess went like this.

Beating the Third Prince within an inch of his life, revealing my sincerity to redeem him, and making sure the Emperor and Empress witnessed every moment of it — all of it had been deliberate.

Bringing the imperial couple to that spot was staging, pure and simple: I wanted to engineer the scene of them begging me to stop my violence.

Granted, the prince was so stubbornly deaf to reason that quite a lot of genuine emotion ended up going into those blows — but I had braced myself for that from the moment I told him about my past, so I let it slide.

It was a plan that only worked because I knew a couple who cherished their children would rush to stop me. If they hadn't, I'd have simply moved on to another plan.

Back in the present, the Third Prince bowed his head toward Elli again and again — more times, I noticed, than he bowed to me.

He's actually gotten his head on straight, hasn't he?

The fact that he aimed his apologies chiefly at Elli made me want to award him extra points. He had certainly wronged me too, but Elli was the one who'd felt it most keenly.

Elli, who understood exactly that, granted him her forgiveness without ceremony.

Then the Third Prince turned to me once more with a request.

"Successor... if the chance should arise, would you grant me a bout with the sword?"

It seemed his defeat — crushed so thoroughly even with my mana and skills sealed — had been eating at him. A single sparring match was the least I could offer, so I nodded.

"Of course. And speak comfortably with me, please. You look to be about my age, Your Highness."

As I recalled, the Third Prince was twenty. The same age as me, so it was only natural he looked like a peer.

"Th-that's... I wasn't sure speaking casually would be permitted... I don't even know how old you are, Successor..."

Where did that prince go — the one who came charging at me without a shred of caution? Ah, right. I killed him.

A snort escaped me, and I couldn't hold back the laughter. Then I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠told him my age.

"I'm twenty. And you, Your Highness?"

"Yes... I'm... the same age as you."

"Then let's drop the formalities. I don't mind at all."

"But..."

"And let the past wash away downstream. We've both shown each other sights we'd rather not have seen, after all."

He had shown me the worst of himself, and I had beaten him half to death as a kind of release for my own. It only seemed fair.

"Underst... understood. Hyun."

Since I seemed pleased by it, the Third Prince finally spoke casually with me. He might have worried it came across as insolent, so I flashed him a smile to show I approved.

With apology and forgiveness both settled, the bout itself came next.

When I told him I wouldn't be using mana or skills, the Third Prince moved to seal his own in return —

"Don't bother, Scion. The gap between us is considerable. Coming at me with everything you have will do you far more good."

Even though my words carried a sting of humiliation, he nodded, took a wooden sword from the rack, and stood before me.

Elli, my teacher, naturally agreed to referee. The conditions were two: I would fight with mana and skills sealed, relying purely on swordsmanship and physical strength, while the Third Prince would use his mana and skills without reserve to match me.

And so our bout began.

Silver light blazing across his whole body, the Third Prince came charging in. A vertical strike from above. I held my sword horizontally and, with a firm twist of strength, knocked his descending blade aside. When I snapped a kick toward his stomach, the experience of our duel must have taken root in his body — the instant his attack failed, he leapt backward and barely evaded me.

His wooden blade came in at me once more. This time, I decided I was done playing defense. I twisted my body to the right to slip past his thrust, then swung my own sword at his thigh.

"Ugh!"

The damage must have been considerable — he raised his sword at me even while groaning in pain. As expected of the Third Prince; he was a born warrior. Any ordinary person, the moment pain hit, would have dropped whatever was in their hands to clutch at the wound. If we assumed he simply hadn't accumulated real combat experience yet, then he was, genuinely, a prodigy.

But in the end, victory came to me. The injury to his thigh stole his balance, and at last the wooden sword slipped from his grip. Elli spotted it immediately ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and called the match.

"Ugh... you truly are strong..."

Rubbing the thigh I'd struck, the Third Prince walked toward me — limping with every step, the pain clearly substantial. I granted him the Authority of Life, flooding his deadened blood with fresh vigor to hasten his healing.

He thanked me, opened his mouth to say something more — then closed it again.

"If you have something to say, say it."

Reading my expression, the Third Prince drew close and spoke quietly.

"When I fought you, the Successor, in that duel... I heard your voice trembling. If that was your past, then..."

"....."

"It was, wasn't it. Then I should tell you too — why I came to think this way, why I acted the way I did."

"If it eases your heart."

"I would ask that you listen as well, my lord."

When he said this to Elli, she gave a quiet nod. With her consent given, Scion began to tell his story.

"I grew up drowning in my parents' love. I was practically the center of the entire imperial family's attention."

That was probably true enough. Scion was the last child the Emperor and Empress had welcomed together.

Even when his ministers urged him to take a concubine, the Emperor refused outright, declaring his children would come only from his Empress. And so four children were born of their union.

When the Second Prince turned seven, the Empress bore their youngest — Scion. The palace was one endless festival; laughter never left the imperial halls. Right up until that day.

Scion grew quickly, and he got along warmly with the Second Prince, who had just learned to walk and read his first letters. The Second Prince doted on his bright little brother in turn, and Scion adored him so much that he'd go looking for his older brother before his own parents.

But tragedy came all the same.

By some means, a mid-to-high ranked demon — Rank 33 of its hierarchy — invaded the Holy Empire.

Before the might of a Rank 33 demon's authority, the guards and knights might as well not have existed. The successor of the Vermillion Bird, who had been nearest at the time, appeared to face the demon — but the Second Prince was already dead, slain by its attack.

The Vermillion Bird's successor fought the demon in a battle to the death, but the wounded Rank 33 vanished without a trace. In the end, the demon escaped — and the imperial family, robbed of a son of the imperial blood, sank into bitter, gnawing grief.

Scion was only ten at the time. Far too young to accept death.

"When they told me my brother was gone... I felt this enormous, hollow loss."

Perhaps that was why he had wept after our duel ended. Because he understood — if he had died there, the Emperor and Empress would have suffered a wound even deeper than the one they already carried.

"The grief was crushing. But Father and Mother wouldn't so much as look at me, and my eldest brother and sister were drowning in their own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sorrow — they had no room to spare for me either."

The empire sank into such profound mourning that the nearly two years that followed were later called its dark age. The people suffered; the throne struggled. It was the First Prince and First Princess who decided things could not go on like this and took up the reins of state, and at last the Emperor and Empress roused themselves, pouring everything into lifting the empire out of that darkness.

But what they had overlooked was Scion — eleven years old and utterly alone.

After the death of the brother he loved most, a child that age still needed a guardian's attention. Yet every member of the imperial family, in their single-minded effort to escape the dark age, had none to give him.

"Mother! Today, could I—!"

"Forgive me, Scion. I am far too busy today. I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

"Mother! Today I—!"

"Forgive me, Scion. Go see your brother, won't you? Your mother is so busy, I fear I cannot spare you any time."

"Brother!"

"Scion, I'm sorry. Reports say demons are invading the north in abnormal numbers. I'll see you after I return from the investigation."

"Sister!"

"Scion... I'm sorry. I can't spare the time today either. Forgive me. Later, I promise."

Sharp beyond his years, Scion understood his family. Later. They'll make time later — that was what he told himself.

But for Scion, that "later" never came.

No one gave him so much as a crumb of attention. And so, at last... Scion twisted.

He wielded his rights and the privilege of being a prince to drag every eye in the palace back onto himself. Astonishingly, it worked — the tactic succeeded in numbing his loneliness.

The problem was that by the time the empire and the imperial family finally stabilized and turned to look at him, his behavior had already festered for over three years.

His family threw everything they had into pulling him back. They failed.

Reversing the old pattern entirely, it was now Scion who spurned them. No matter how badly he behaved, they had never once done anything for him — and so he had come to hate them beyond all measure.

That life dragged on for more than six years, leaving him branded the Empire's worst delinquent — and, now, the man who had tried to steal a successor's contracted partner.

He despised his father, the man who had signed his banishment, with every fiber of his being. Having lived through that past, it was only the natural course of things that Scion would go astray and nurse malice toward the Emperor.

It was the fruit of two people who never spoke — but neither had ever made the first move to close the distance. It was I who stepped forward and severed that unbroken chain of tragedy.

When Scion lost our duel and came back to his senses, the person at his bedside was not a minister, not a healer — it was his mother, the Empress, asleep at his side. He told me how, even after everything he'd done, even after nearly causing something catastrophic, she was simply there. And he remembered the last words I'd said to him.

When he truly understood — it isn't hard to obey your parents; there are people waiting for you to change — he woke his mother, then knelt before her in tears and begged her forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry. It was my fault. Even as a child, I should never have acted that way. Forgive me."

And at the sight of her son weeping before her and confessing his wrongs, the Empress gathered him into her arms — and apologized to him, saying she was the one who was sorry.

Years of estrangement dissolved in a gesture that took less than a minute.

The Emperor, tears streaming down his face, held him close and told him he was sorry — that he should never have left him to carry it alone. Realizing that all of it had been his own misunderstanding, Scion spent the next two days bowing his head before every member of the imperial family and every minister in the palace.

His brother and sister, overjoyed at his change, apologized in turn — for every moment of indifference in the past. The First Princess in particular said she felt terribly guilty; she apparently wept so hard in front of him that it took quite an effort to calm her down.

Only after he had apologized to everyone and been forgiven did he find the courage to stand before me — and with that, Scion finished his story.

He was silent for a moment, then spoke.

"I intend to punish myself now, in my own way. I have no intention of being forgiven for something like this. I'll travel to every frontline — north, south, east, and west — and build real experience ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before I return."

"Does that plan include...?"

"Yes. I'll be stopping by Cumul Territory as well. I'll be in your hands when I do."

I nodded in answer to his words.

"I look forward to it."

It seemed everything was wrapping up on a warm note — until a single message seized my gaze.

What the hell? What kind of insane difficulty is this?

I nearly swore out loud the moment I read it. The contents were bad enough — and the penalty for failure was downright vicious.

Worse, I wasn't even allowed to interfere with the plan of the assault.

Was this for real?

Dizziness washed over me, a headache blooming behind my eyes — but Scion and Elli only tilted their heads at my reaction.

Right... of course. I redeem him, we become friends... and this is what pops up? I'm dead. Damn you all to hell.

Whatever it took, I would wipe those demons from existence. I stoked the furnace of my hatred into a blaze.

Because if I could kill the ones who had driven Scion down his dark path — the ones who would dare use the agony of loss against me, exactly the way it had once been used on me — then I could never, ever forgive them.

No matter what it cost, I intended to stake everything on this coming fight.