Chapter 65
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 65
Translation: godsn
It was the Emperor's birthday.
The banquet was tedious. Out of habit, Yurien de Harden Kyrie activated his True Sight and observed the banquet hall.
Most humans were neither of the Black Path nor White Path—they were gray. People who could become good or evil depending on circumstances. Hazy, shadow-like figures undulated like heat waves. The world seen through True Sight was nearly monochromatic. The more stable one's essence or the firmer their soul's core, the clearer these indistinct forms became, eventually gaining color—but such people were rare.
"Yurien."
A man with silver hair and green eyes approached him. Through True Sight, he appeared as a deep gray bordering on black. The closer he came, the darker the black grew. When he stopped before Yurien, he twisted his lips into a smirk.
"The banquet must be boring you."
"Not at all, Brother Karem."
This was the Second Prince, Karem de Harden Kyrielle. Yurien's blood brother. Yet their relationship was worse than that of half-siblings. Through True Sight, Yurien could clearly see the malice swirling within his soul. Most certainly, that malice was directed at him.
Karem whispered in a low voice, "Then stop acting so high and mighty and get lost. I can't stand the sight of you."
"My apologies."
Yurien replied flatly. He didn't want to be here either. But if he left before the end, his father the Emperor would undoubtedly criticize him for not celebrating his birthday properly. Moreover, the moment he stepped away, the first person to report it to the Emperor would be the very brother standing before him.
Dealing with him was exhausting. Yurien averted his gaze from Karem, who seemed determined to pick a fight. He didn't want to see the malice undulating right before his eyes. As his gaze wandered aimlessly, something caught his attention—amidst the monochromatic shadows, a faint spark flickered into view.
True Sight could be adjusted. The more he focused, the clearer his vision became. Without realizing it, he found himself tracking that soul. As he concentrated, the image grew increasingly distinct.
A pale gray silhouette—a woman's form. Within it, a faint violet hue, nearly white, flickered like a tiny ember. A spark no larger than a fingernail. It wavered precariously, as if it might extinguish at any moment, yet carried the potential to grow into a raging inferno.
[An interesting soul. If it ignites, it could become a sun. Though whether it will is another matter.]
The Holy Sword murmured with apparent interest. Yurien observed that flickering light like a tiny star. While he had occasionally encountered souls with firm resolve, this was his first time seeing something like this. That such a faint glow could potentially blaze like the sun—it was fascinating. Curiosity stirred within him.
'Who is she?'
He deactivated True Sight to look. The bearer of that spark was a woman with long, pale pink hair styled in an elaborate fashion. She wore a sky-blue dress and was conversing among noble ladies her age. At a glance, she appeared no different from the countless noblewomen he'd seen before. Pretty features and uniquely colored hair, but that was all.
Yurien reactivated True Sight to observe that faint glow again. Regardless of its potential, the current light was weak and slender. The bearer of this ember was just an ordinary noble daughter. She would likely marry whomever her parents chose and, barring unforeseen circumstances, lead an unremarkable, peaceful life. In that case, this spark would remain just that—a spark. His brief interest was about to fade when—
"You're not listening to me. Who the hell are you looking at?"
The irritated voice snapped Yurien back to reality. For a moment, he'd forgotten where he was and who stood before him. Karem followed his line of sight until the pink hair came into view.
"...A woman? This is the first time I've seen you show interest in one."
The malice in Karem's soul became unmistakable. Yurien quickly looked away from her. He forced his expression to remain neutral.
"It's not interest. Her hair color was unusual, so I glanced for a moment."
"Oh, really...?"
Karem drew out his words with a strange smile. The more Yurien denied his interest, the more it would sound like he was hiding something. Yurien deliberately changed the subject. And for the remainder of the banquet, he didn't let his gaze return to the pink-haired woman even once.
Yurien had known since early childhood that his father hated him. Whenever the Emperor's eyes met the young boy's, they burned with unconcealed disgust and rage. He had even said it outright before.
"Get that disgusting thing out of my sight at once."
It was his nursemaid who told Yurien where the Emperor's hatred came from. He learned that his mother, whom he had never seen, had died because of him—and that was why the Emperor couldn't stand the sight of him.
"So... does His Majesty hate me? Will he always?"
The nursemaid couldn't bring herself to answer the young Third Prince's question coldly. Instead, she stroked his hair and spoke as if consoling him.
"If you become the kindest and cleverest child of all, perhaps His Majesty will look upon you with favor, Your Highness."
So Yurien tried. He devoted himself completely to every duty and education expected of royalty, never once stepping out of line. Yet that only invited even greater hatred.
"His Highness Yurien is truly exceptional."
"They say the Second Prince has talent with the sword as well."
"Frankly, compared to the Third Prince..."
The comparisons were inevitable. The more Yurien earned praise from his tutors, the more the Second Prince faded into obscurity. And of all things, the Second Prince's talent lay in swordsmanship—the very field where Yurien's potential shone brightest among his many gifts.
What's more, Yurien loved the sword. The boy never indulged in revelry or idle amusements. He lived like a monk, adhering to strict discipline, immersing himself in the blade instead of hobbies. The Second Prince, two years his junior, could never surpass that wall.
The Emperor couldn't bear it. He strained to find any flaw in Yurien, no matter how minor, and magnified even the slightest mistake into a grievous fault. Yurien, in turn, grew obsessive about maintaining perfection, terrified of giving them any reason to condemn him.
Sometimes, the Emperor even lashed out at the Second Prince.
"I support you in every way, yet you still can't surpass that brat?!"
And so, the Second Prince, Karem, came to hate Yurien. The mere existence of this younger brother—the one who had taken his mother from him—tormented him. Karem watched Yurien with eyes brimming with resentment and inferiority.
Their half-brother, the Crown Prince Cruen, remained detached from the conflict. Born under the unwavering protection of his maternal family and immediately designated heir, he observed everything with indifference. Having long since dedicated himself to scholarship, he had never felt particularly inferior to Yurien—or rather, he simply didn't care.
Yurien was grateful for that indifference. Karem, on the other hand, was fixated on him. Every mistake Yurien made, every thing he liked, every interest he pursued—all of it reached the Emperor's ears through Karem. Mistakes were punished, beloved things were taken away, and interests were ruined.
Once, a bird Yurien had raised and cherished somehow escaped its securely latched cage and damaged the Emperor's garden. Karem shot it dead. After that, Yurien made sure never to show attachment to anything again. He consciously embraced an ascetic life.
This was no different. After the banquet, Yurien severed all interest in that woman. He didn't seek out her name or inquire about her identity. He returned to Agenka and forgot her. Forgetting wasn't difficult—she hadn't left that strong an impression to begin with. It was only mildly intriguing that such an unremarkable-looking girl carried a spark of potential within her.
Soon enough, Yurien forgot all about her, slipping back into his unremarkable daily life.
But he didn't know. That single glance—and the fact his brother had caught him looking—was already the beginning of tragedy.
The Demon of the Magic Sword first appeared in March of 1629.
The moment she emerged, she slaughtered three cities and clashed with Nicole Sizton, a disciple of one of the Sages who had been nearby. Though Nicole perished, she succeeded in dealing the demon a considerable injury. After that, the demon vanished for a time, only appearing intermittently. Each time she resurfaced, reports claimed she had grown stronger.
The Azure Sky Knights repeatedly petitioned to subjugate her, but the Empire refused permission. The Empire pursued her themselves, yet each time, they either lost track of her or their hunting parties were wiped out. This continued for over two years—until, finally, in the winter of 1631, a large-scale subjugation squad was assembled. Nearly the entirety of the Magic Tower and the Royal Guard Knights were mobilized. And leading that squad was the Second Prince, Karem.
"Slaughtered, by a single woman no less."
Dietrich Sarua shrugged as he spoke. The owner of Lemingiosa and Yurien's friend since their academy days, he treated the captain's office as his own. Yurien glanced up from the documents he was reviewing to look at him. Dietrich waved the parchment scroll in his hand and asked,
"Aren't you curious, Yul, about what happened to the brother who led the subjugation squad?"
"Don't intercept reports, Diet."
"Ugh, you're so stiff."
Dietrich tossed the parchment at him. As Yurien caught and unfurled it, the other man added,
"The squad's a pity, but that bastard brother of yours—or whatever he was—got what he deserved."
"......Did even Prince Karem fall in battle?"
"The Demon carved them all up equally."
Yurien skimmed the report.
—No survivors. After losing contact with the subjugation squad, a belatedly dispatched reconnaissance team confirmed the deaths of all members, including the Second Prince.
Was he really the kind of man to die so meaninglessly?
With an odd sense of detachment, Yurien confirmed the death of the brother who had tormented him all his life. He didn't feel much grief. He was only curious about what the Emperor might be thinking now.
"Now that they're all dead, that damned Empire will finally send a formal request for aid. Even by Valdergiosa's standards, this massacre is unprecedented, isn't it? Those lunatics. They should've called us from the start."
Dietrich clicked his tongue. Yurien closed the report with a heavy heart. From the Demon's first appearance in the spring of 1629 to now, the winter of 1631, the relentless slaughter had continued—and the primary reason it hadn't been stopped sooner likely lay with him.
The Emperor had refused the Azure Sky Knights' intervention precisely because Yurien was their captain. Officially, he cited reasons like disrespect toward the Empire or excessive interference from the Order, but the real motive was clear.
[Even so, those deaths are not your responsibility. The one who committed the slaughter was the Demon swayed by the Magic Sword, and the one who enabled it was the Emperor. Blaming you for the Emperor's choices goes against justice.]
Langiosa spoke sternly. It was the Holy Sword's way of offering comfort. Instead of replying, Yurien gave a faint, bitter smile. A formal request from the Empire would likely arrive soon. That meant it was time to prepare a plan to subjugate the Demon of the Magic Sword.
Little was known about the Demon beyond her being a young woman, but judging by the reports, she was undoubtedly on a completely different level from any previous Valdergiosa owner. They would need thorough preparations.
'As expected, all Giosa Owners will have to go.'
As he reviewed the records on the Demon, Yurien reached that conclusion. Though he already knew the details, examining them again with subjugation in mind sent a fresh chill down his spine. The devastation was monstrous. Even if he were to fall under the Magic Sword's influence, the damage wouldn't be this severe.
'Just what kind of person is she?'
He, too, had been called a once-in-a-generation genius. It wasn't for nothing that he had become the youngest Master and the youngest captain of the Azure Sky Knights in history. Without a doubt, the Demon of the Magic Sword surpassed even him. It was almost unbelievable that someone of such talent had remained unknown until now.
Yurien double-checked the information on the Demon.
Young woman. Black hair, black eyes, skin marred by spreading black stains.
That was all. While there were countless records of the atrocities she had committed, almost nothing was known about who she had been before.
Dietrich, rifling through the documents, asked him,
"How are we assembling the subjugation team?"
"All four Giosa Owners—you, me, and the other two. The rest would only be in danger."
"Good. Should I tell Teresa?"
Dietrich grinned, waved a hand, and left the captain's office. Yurien glanced at the towering pile of records on the Demon.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered what kind of person she had been before becoming the Demon.
A pointless curiosity. The moment the Magic Sword claimed her, she had already ceased to be anything but a dead thing.
Whoever she was, she must have been an extraordinarily unlucky woman.
With that faint flicker of pity, he set aside all thoughts of her and focused solely on how to slay the Demon.