Side Story 7: The End of a Long Wait
Translator: RaidenTL
Side Story 7: The End of a Long Wait
The Kingdom of Firma had struck the border once more.
It appeared they had spent the last year feigning a diligent effort to repay their war reparations, all while secretly plotting to seize the Kifren region.
"It is a bit later than I anticipated, but well within the margin of error."
Upon receiving the report on the front lines, Cedric merely gave a curt nod, his expression a mask of indifference. Emperor Durein looked on, nearly speechless at the man’s composure.
In truth, Cedric had been warning of this exact invasion for over a year.
Thanks to his foresight, the Imperial forces had been able to react instantly to the sudden incursion, preventing any significant loss of life. Not only had they held the line, but they were currently pushing back, occupying the Firma Kingdom’s own territory in a swift counter-offensive.
Durein was certain that this war would herald the total collapse of the Firma Kingdom and the expansion of the Empire’s borders. Cedric Kailas, the son of the legendary Rowan Kailas, would see to it personally.
"Tell me. How on earth did you uncover their designs?"
"Is it not obvious? They went so far as to kill my father, yet they achieved none of their objectives. Why would they stop now?"
"Did you never consider the possibility that they might have simply given up?"
"Not once."
Give up? The notion was absurd.
Cedric had clashed with the Firmans on the battlefield; he had felt the depth of their obsession with Kifren firsthand. To the Firmans, who were devout adherents of the Arotsan faith, Kifren was not merely a strategic border province. They believed a holy relic was hidden beneath its soil.
For them, the struggle for Kifren was a holy war.
"I care little for their religious fervor," Cedric said coldly. "To me, the punishment of the traitors within our own borders—those who leaked intelligence to the enemy—is far more pressing."
To Cedric, "traitors" meant the snakes who had conspired with a foreign power to assassinate a Duke of the Empire while he was fighting on the front lines to protect his people.
To corner them until there was no hole left to crawl into, and then to grant them the most wretched of deaths—that was why he had waited by the Emperor’s side until today.
"We have secured irrefutable evidence that Marquess Pascal and Count Hayward colluded with the enemy. I await your decision, Your Majesty."
"Do not rush me, you rascal. Haa..."
Durein had completed every preparation to purge them, yet he could not entirely mask his bitterness.
"Those two families have stood for generations. If we execute them for high treason and dismantle their houses, the streets of Genoa will be awash in blood for a long time."
"No house takes precedence over the safety of the Empire or the sanctity of the Imperial Family. Consider this: had we dismissed our suspicions because we were emboldened by victory in the Kifren War, how devastating would the blow to the Empire have been this time?"
Finally, Durein nodded.
"You are right. It is best to use this opportunity to tear out the seeds of rebellion by the root."
The Emperor issued the final decree for the annihilation of the House of Marquess Pascal and the House of Count Hayward. From this day forward, those two surnames would be erased from the annals of the Empire.
* * *
"What do we do, Marquess! The Imperial Knights will be at our gates by morning!"
Count Hayward’s jaw trembled as he paced Marquess Pascal’s study. Only yesterday, he had believed their position was secure, but in a single day, the world had turned upside down.
"That sly bastard... he stayed quiet all this time just to gather evidence in the shadows, didn't he?"
"There is no one left to trust! I heard the leak even came from within the Firma Royal Family! What in God's name did he do to them...!"
Sylvain Pascal ground his teeth.
Whether it was Rowan or his son, the men of the Kailas line were annoyingly persistent and dangerously insidious. He had been so certain he wouldn't be caught this time. He had been so sure of his victory.
Where did it all go wrong?
The fact that he didn't even know the answer was what wounded his pride most. Was this how an alligator felt in a drying swamp—unaware of the danger until the jaws of a predator snapped shut?
But he would not sit idly by and wait for the Imperial Knights to drag him to the block.
"We need to find his weakness."
"Does a man like that even have a weakness?"
"Of course he does. He displays it openly for all to see."
When Count Hayward frowned in confusion, Sylvain let out a sharp, cold snicker.
"Is our dear Duke not the protagonist of a grand romance?"
He took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke. His eyes gleamed with the predatory light of a serpent.
* * *
"Cedric. I think I must go see Aunt Roxana."
Harriet spoke softly, setting down a letter she had received from Trisha.
The news was grim. Roxana had been in a state of constant anxiety for over a month after her infant fell ill, and she had finally collapsed from exhaustion.
Roxana, who had taken over her title early upon her marriage, knew better than anyone that her illness would throw the family’s affairs into chaos. But some things in life do not bend to one's will—especially when it concerns a child.
Harriet knew how overjoyed Roxana and Colin had been when the baby they thought they could never have was finally born. Knowing their hearts, Harriet couldn't find it in herself to blame her aunt for staying by the cradle until her strength failed.
"How is Count Fellon faring?" Cedric asked.
"He is out of danger, but his strength is spent. I plan to bring him some nourishing tonics and food."
"Do so. However, the political climate in Genoa is turbulent at the moment. You must be cautious. I will assign a detachment of escort knights to you."
"I understand. You should rest as well, Cedric. I fear you shall collapse just as my aunt did."
Cedric leaned in and lightly kissed his wife, who was worrying over him despite her own concerns.
Harriet had been frail for a time after giving birth to Rainier, and even then, she had worried that he was the one struggling. He knew that forbidding her from going would be useless; she was a woman who always placed the needs of others before her own. He would simply have to soothe his own nerves by doubling the guard.
But why did ominous premonitions always have a way of coming true?
"Your Grace! An ambush! They’ve taken the Duchess...!"
At the news—news he had dreaded but half-expected—Cedric’s expression hardened into something terrifying. He didn't even think to commend the knight who, despite his bleeding wounds, had ridden with all his might to report Harriet’s disappearance.
"So, they wish to negotiate."
This was exactly why he had wanted to stop her. If it had been anyone else, he would have forbidden the trip entirely. But it was Roxana, who was like a sister to Harriet, and he couldn't bring himself to deny her.
That did not mean, however, that he would play the victim.
"Since I know exactly who the enemy is, why wait? I shall pay them a visit myself. Sir Austin."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Inform the Imperial Family. Tell them I have gone to resolve this matter personally, staking my ducal title on the outcome. I will take full responsibility for everything that happens within those walls."
"Your Grace!"
Gerard called out to him in a panic, but Cedric raised a hand to silence him. He went immediately to change his clothes. After all, one had to observe the proper etiquette when visiting a neighbor’s home.
* * *
When Cedric arrived at the Pascal mansion less than an hour after Harriet’s abduction, Sylvain laughed in sheer disbelief.
He had heard rumors that Cedric was madly devoted to his wife, but he hadn't realized the man was this unhinged. Cedric hadn't even hesitated; he knew exactly who had taken her. He was even certain that Sylvain was the mastermind, despite the fact that it was Count Hayward who was physically holding her captive.
Sylvain attempted a casual greeting.
"Duke Kailas. To what do I owe the pleasure of—"
"I have no need for tea or pleasantries. State your demands. Neither of us has much time, do we?"
Since Cedric was so ready to skip to the end, Sylvain saw no reason to keep up the charade. As Cedric said, time was a luxury he no longer possessed.
"Such a blunt attitude is quite refreshing. What I want is obvious, is it not?"
"Is it?"
"Do I truly need to say it aloud?"
"It seems you know it yourself," Cedric said, his voice dropping an octave. "That your request is too shameful to even utter."
"What?"
Sylvain’s brow furrowed, but Cedric continued to walk toward him, closing the distance.
"You intended to blame His Majesty for mismanagement if the war went poorly, using that leverage to increase your influence. How far did you hope to climb?"
"Nonsense."
"Chairman of the Council of Nobles? Second-in-command of the Empire? Or perhaps... the throne itself?"
Cedric let out a dry, mocking snicker. Sylvain’s personal guards stepped forward, blocking Cedric’s path just two steps away from their master.
"How do you intend to rule an Empire," Cedric whispered, "when you cannot even manage your own household?"
"You insolent wretch! You dare speak such reckless words? Seeing your indifference to your wife’s safety, perhaps you’ve already found another woman to take her place?"
"Hardly. She is my life. If your intent was truly to destroy me, you should have killed her on the spot. Abducting her was your final mistake."
"What?"
"It is already too late."
The moment the words left his lips, Cedric drew two main-gauches hidden beneath his coat. Gripping one in each hand, he moved with a speed that defied the eye. Before the guards could even clear their longswords from their scabbards, Cedric was among them, his blades finding only vital points—the hollow of the neck, the center of the heart.
"St-stop him! Kill him!"
As a stunned Sylvain recoiled, shouting in terror, the doors to the reception room burst open. The Imperial Knights Cedric had brought with him stormed in, efficiently neutralizing the remaining guards.
Cedric, his hands and cuffs stained with crimson, approached Sylvain directly. No one stood in his way.
"Count Hayward was quicker-witted than you, it seems," Cedric said. "He has already concluded a negotiation to spare his life—in exchange for his full cooperation."
"What? N-no... that's impossible...!"
"Harriet is likely at the Fellon Estate by now, enjoying a quiet visit with her family."
Cedric had anticipated this move. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, because the ambush had injured his knights and Harriet had undoubtedly been terrified, if only for a moment.
"Thank you for making it impossible for me to show mercy," Cedric said, his eyes cold and hollow. "I was almost worried I might feel a flicker of hesitation."
With those words, Cedric brought both blades down in a sharp, diagonal strike.
The sturdy steel carved a jagged 'X' across the throat of the man who had once wielded more power than the House of Kailas itself. Sylvain Pascal’s breath escaped in a wet rattle as he collapsed.
The conclusion of his long-awaited vengeance felt hollow. But then, he supposed it would have felt that way regardless of how it ended.
In the sudden silence, he thought he could hear his father’s voice—low, firm, and familiar. Asking if he was satisfied. Asking if he could finally let go.
With blood splattered across his face, Cedric merely shook his head slowly.