Chapter 56. The Frozen Executioner Rimeyer
The Frozen Executioner Rimeyer
[The deepest chambers of the royal capital, the King's bedroom]
The scent of medicine hung thick in the air, broken only by the weight of silence.
The aged king sat propped against his bed, gazing down at Lucian, who knelt before him.
"The Crown Prince... has fallen."
The king's voice trembled.
"They call it a sudden illness, but... anyone can see it was poison. My own son, brother against brother..."
The moment the brilliant First Prince collapsed, the Second Prince, Kaelus, bared his fangs as if he had been waiting.
Kaelus had already begun rallying his forces, using Marquis Valmore's territory as his stronghold.
Marquis Valmore—the same lecher who had once tried to assault Nancy at a ball, only to be thoroughly disciplined by Lucian's head guard.
And among his allies was none other than Viscount Gamon, the sworn enemy who had orchestrated the downfall of Ella's noble house.
"Fortunately, the intelligence network the Crown Prince built allowed us to catch wind of their rebellion before they could act... but I am too old now."
The king clasped Lucian's hand with his withered fingers.
"Lucian. I need you... to be my sword once more. Lead the vanguard against the rebels."
It was the highest mark of trust the king could bestow—and the most dangerous request. Lucian met the king's hollowed eyes and nodded.
To Lucian, the king had been more than just his sovereign. He was his father's closest friend, a man who had treated him like a son.
"By your command. I will purge the traitors and restore order to the kingdom."
Before discussing military strategy, the king hesitated, then broached a personal matter.
"By the way... are you truly set against Catherine?"
Lucian's expression stiffened. Not this again.
"Your Majesty, we've already—"
"It's not just because she's my daughter. Catherine is a jewel by any measure—beauty, grace, temperament. And above all, she genuinely adores you."
The king sighed regretfully.
His youngest daughter, the apple of his eye. Every time he saw her blush in Lucian's presence, he burned with the desire to unite them. It wasn't just political maneuvering to secure the Eckhart family's military might. He truly believed Lucian would protect her for life.
"If a man like you became my son-in-law... I could close my eyes in peace."
"My apologies, Your Majesty."
Lucian shook his head firmly, though respectfully.
"I am already promised to Rachel. My heart belongs to her. The princess... will find a better match."
"Hah... So it's that young lady from House Richard. I suppose I should admire your stubbornness."
The king chuckled bitterly. It was ironic—Lucian, infamous as a rake, was so rigidly principled when it came to marriage. But that only made him more trustworthy.
"Very well. Enough of personal matters... There's one more thing weighing on me."
The king's expression darkened again.
"The Kurkan Kingdom to the south. If civil war breaks out here, those barbarians won't hesitate to cross our borders."
If the Second Prince rebelled, the royal army would split in two. And if the warmongers from the south seized that moment to invade, the kingdom could fall.
But Lucian remained composed.
"You need not worry about that."
"You have a plan?"
"I personally secured a non-aggression pact with Kurkan. King Barkan may be cruel and savage, but even he won't break a treaty without cause. He won't risk another backstab."
Lucian recalled his visit to the arena, where he had won Kara and met the king.
Kurkan had already suffered severe economic sanctions after breaking a previous treaty, plunging them into hardship. They wouldn't act recklessly now.
"And as a precaution... I've already sent word to Baron Richard's house guarding the southern border."
"Oh? Your future father-in-law?"
"Yes. I explained the situation and requested he reinforce the border defenses. No one knows the southern terrain better than him. If Kurkan moves, he'll buy us enough time."
Color returned to the king's face.
Of course. Lucian had already prepared for every contingency, even those the king hadn't considered.
"Having you by my side... is truly a blessing."
The king sighed in relief and clapped Lucian's shoulder.
"Go. Show those traitors the terror of Eckhart's blade."
"I shall return victorious."
With a deep bow, Lucian turned and strode from the chamber, his cloak billowing behind him.
[Royal Training Grounds - Military Reorganization]
Amidst the ranks of thousands of soldiers, two supreme warriors stood atop the platform.
"You've arrived, Sword Saint."
The icy voice belonged to Rimeyer Keshar Blanc, Captain of the Royal Knights.
She was the eldest daughter of House Blanc, a lineage that had produced the kingdom's finest military officers for generations.
Legend held that whenever a woman with silver hair, cold blue eyes, and snow-white skin was born into the Blanc family, she would inevitably reach the pinnacle of martial prowess—a "Goddess of War."
The world knew her as the Silver Holy Knight—or the Frozen Executioner.
Clad in pristine white plate armor over a short white skirted uniform, her bearing was so divine it seemed more suited to a temple than a battlefield.
"Now that you've obtained the Holy Sword, no one can stand against you. Not that they could before, either..."
Rimeyer's gaze lingered on the self-illuminating blade at Lucian's waist—a gift from the spirit Undine—before she smiled wryly.
Though revered as the kingdom's greatest swordswoman, she had once suffered a bitter defeat against Lucian in an unofficial duel.
"Sword Saint is too generous. I still have much to learn. At least we have time to reorganize our forces."
Lucian answered humbly, though his demeanor spoke of relentless self-improvement.
Rimeyer stole a glance at his profile.
Even after defeating her, he carried no arrogance.
Strangely, she felt no resentment. Only exhilaration.
'Perhaps it's nature's way—the strong are drawn to the strong.'
She had often wondered—if she bore the child of a man with such overwhelming power, what kind of warrior would be born?
'But... it's too late.'
Lucian was already betrothed to Rachel, their wedding imminent.
Rimeyer buried her feelings under the guise of camaraderie and respect, tightening her grip on her sword.
Meanwhile, Lucian studied her from the corner of his eye.
'She is beautiful.'
Objectively, she was peerless.
Her slender, toned legs beneath the white uniform skirt, the firm curve of her hips and thighs revealed by the wind—enough to steal any man's gaze.
In his youth, Lucian's heart had raced at the sight of her.
As a boy accompanying his father to the royal palace, he had been instantly smitten with the girl his age.
Back then, her swordsmanship was already near perfection, leaving him no match.
Her strength wasn't honed through training—it was innate, genetic.
Even without Lucian's relentless discipline, power and speed were woven into her very being.
She maintained a woman's form yet possessed strength beyond imagination.
Lucian had often stared, mesmerized by her beauty and might.
Her cold demeanor contrasted with moments of girlish chatter, which he found endearing.
Once, he had even caught a glimpse of her in white stockings.
The soft, milky calves and delicate arches had haunted his fantasies, fueling late-night indulgence.
But... that was as far as it went. Adulthood changed things.
Their eyes met.
[Cold blue vs. Crimson red]
Different in color, yet the light within them was eerily similar.
The same sharp gaze, the same knowing smirk.
The same calculated restraint, the same rare warmth reserved for allies.
Lucian saw himself reflected in her.
'Too... alike.'
That was the fatal flaw.
Desire thrived on difference—the conquest and merging of the other.
But looking at Rimeyer now felt like staring into a mirror—a female version of himself.
'Sleeping with her would be like sleeping with myself.'
Even Lucian, a narcissist of the highest order, shuddered at the thought of self-coupling.
No matter how tempting her curves, the coldness in her eyes made his arousal wither instantly.
"......"
"......"
They stared in silence before turning away simultaneously.
Too alike to ever merge.
A strange, fortunate reason why the two strongest warriors of their era remained... just comrades.
