The Bystander's Choice (2)
As everyone had expected, the honor of winning the hunting competition went to the First Prince. Now, the rumors that he would fail to inherit the throne would vanish in an instant.
He marched proudly before the Emperor and dropped to one knee. Even after seeing the Giant Bear and the Werewolf he had hunted, the Emperor remained silent. It was a scene barely different from last year's. The crowd stood overwhelmed, utterly dominated by the inhuman majesty of the imperial bloodline.
According to tradition, the First Prince would state his wish before the Emperor, and the nobles would line up to offer the resources and troops needed to fulfill it. What had the Fourth Prince wished for when he won the last competition? Right—he had asked for the authority to wipe out the nomads in the border regions who kept trespassing into the Forest of the Sun.
The Duke figured that this time, the prince would ask for the development rights to the Jendal region, where a gold mine had been discovered a few months ago. If he did, the noble who discovered the mine, along with the other aristocrats and merchants who had invested in its development, would be ruined or suffer massive losses. Yet, none would dare rebel. Everyone waited in tense silence for the First Prince to speak.
"Your Majesty, thieves and vagrants have recently taken up residence around the temple in the capital dedicated to Sierra the Great, degrading its dignity and threatening public order. I humbly request the authority to resolve this issue and restore the ruined aesthetics of the temple."
A brief murmur rippled through the crowd. The nobles were puzzled at first, but they soon nodded in understanding. Though sudden, his request was entirely justifiable.
Amidst the whispering crowd, the Duke fell into a quiet despair. He clenched his fists. There was no way he didn't know which temple in the capital the First Prince was referring to. He had never once forgotten that colossal structure, the very place that had gifted him his worst nightmares.
Duke Fidus knew exactly who those "vagrants and thieves" were. The prince was declaring his intent to completely sweep away the cluster of shanties where orphaned children and the sick huddled together. Perhaps the prince would even demand support from the Fidus Duchy, which was not far from there. If so, the loyal Duke Fidus would have to generously provide him with resources and soldiers to slaughter them. And he would be forced to follow the exact same steps for whatever business followed.
The blood-soaked face of the young child, which he had believed had faded somewhat, rushed back with vivid clarity. In truth, ever since the moment he had discovered the child's corpse, a single question had never left the Duke's mind: Did things really have to be done this way?
The Duke already knew the answer. The reason there were so many vagrants around the temple where he had found the child was because of the temple expansion project ordered by the imperial family. Dozens of surrounding homes had been demolished to erect the massive temple. People who lost their homes and livelihoods were thrown onto the streets and turned to crime. Countless children lost their parents that year. As the temple demanded even more offerings, the number of vagrants only multiplied.
The Duke also knew that the foreign tribes lingering at the borders had only come because the Empire had needlessly trampled upon the small, peaceful territories they once called home. With nowhere to go and no one to accept them, they risked their lives every freezing winter in a desperate tug-of-war at the Empire's borders. Duke Fidus had carried out the orders to slaughter these "dangerous elements" without hesitation. He had obeyed the command simply because they were labeled as threats.
He knew that the countless other orders he had executed—believing he understood their necessity—were no different. No matter how much flowery rhetoric was draped over them, his past deeds were fundamentally no different from what he had done to Tollin in the forest today. Dressing up injustice to look like righteousness. Noticing the truth, yet choosing to close his eyes and pretend ignorance. He knew that if he remained silent here once more, the same cycle would repeat.
The Duke squeezed his eyes shut. This time, the image that flickered before him was his young son. And through it, a mocking sneer echoed in his mind.
"How fitting for a Duke who is a loyal subject, devoting his very soul to the imperial family."
He knew the voice ringing in his ears was a mere illusion, yet it refused to stop.
"I pray you remain just as proud then, Duke. Proud of your son, who will submit to the imperial family's commands under any circumstance."
Could he bear to watch that? The Duke knew the answer to this, too.
The Emperor slowly raised his head and spoke. "If there are no objections, I shall gladly grant the victor his rightful due."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
The First Prince bowed his head, waiting for the thunderous applause that was sure to follow. But the sound he expected never came; only a heavy silence lingered. Puzzled, he turned around. The man who met his gaze was someone he knew well. The former commander of the First Knights—easily the best among the common insects. I thought he retired quite some time ago. Yet there he was, stepping forward slowly under the collective gaze of the crowd.
"Do you realize what you are daring to do right now, Duke?" the First Prince asked, his voice laced with sheer disbelief.
At the prince's incredulous question, Duke Fidus bowed politely and spoke.
"Your Imperial Majesty, and Your Imperial Highness. I, Agoni Fidus, Patriarch of the Fidus Duchy, humbly request permission to step down from my position and appoint my aide, Tollin Crysa, as the Acting Duke."
"What in the world is the meaning of—"
The First Prince raised his voice in anger, about to snap.
"I shall grant it."
But the Emperor's indifferent approval instantly cut him off.
Agoni offered his deepest respects to the Emperor, then turned back to look at his surroundings. Everyone was watching him with anxious eyes. Knowing his own fate would be no different, he slowly turned back to the Emperor and spoke.
"I shall pay for the crime of disrupting this sacred ceremony with my life."
A collective gasp echoed through the crowd. No one present failed to understand that he was essentially begging for his own execution.
"Ha! There is no taking back your words, Duke."
An expression of mingled irritation and mockery crossed the First Prince's face. The Duke raised his head, silently conveying that he was well aware of the consequences. The First Prince looked toward the Emperor, who continued to look down upon the unfolding drama without a single flicker of emotion. Even in this final moment, Duke Fidus felt a strange, deeply ingrained surge of loyalty, trust, and reverence for his sovereign as he awaited his sentence.
The Emperor spared the Duke a single glance, then spoke to the executioner.
"I sentence him to immediate execution."
Not a single soul dared to make a sound. The Duke quietly bowed his head once more, accepting his fate.
The sentence was carried out swiftly. Exercising his traditional right as the disrupted victor, the First Prince instantly encased Duke Fidus within a massive pillar of water. Witnessing an immediate execution at the hunting competition for the first time, the onlookers were struck anew by the sheer cruelty of the tradition.
In accordance with the rule that the condemned must remain alive to be thrown off the cliff, the First Prince did not kill the Duke. He merely constricted his airway to the absolute limit, venting his anger at having his ceremony interrupted. He then hoisted the water pillar high into the air for all to see, turning the legendary warrior into a public mockery.
It was a suffocating sight, forcing several nobles to avert their eyes, unable to watch. Trapped inside the pillar of water and unable to breathe, Duke Fidus forced his eyes wide open, determined to imprint the final moments of his life into his memory.
The first thing he saw was the First Prince, hand raised, manipulating the water. The prince stared back at him with eyes gleaming with a mixture of rage and sadistic thrill at the prospect of casually executing a living legend before the entire court. A thin, cruel smirk played on his lips, clearly relishing the sight of the Duke gasping for air.
He will likely become the next Emperor, Agoni thought. And by then, he will feel absolutely nothing when taking a life, just like the Emperor sitting so indifferently over there.
Next, the Duke looked at the sovereign he had served for over thirty years. The Emperor showed no emotion whatsoever as he put a veteran who had dedicated his entire life to the nation on display to be drowned. It made Agoni feel like a mere insect. The Emperor was killing him with the same casual apathy one might use to crush an ant.
The absurdity of it brought a faint, wry smile to his face, even as he felt the water rushing into his lungs. Ironically, his heart, which had been in such wild turmoil, was now perfectly still. Only now did he feel as though his eyes were truly opening.
He had spent his life talking grandly about the weight of lives and the flow of destiny, but in front of the imperial family, his own life was nothing more than a bug's. Being the "Sword of the Imperial Family" meant absolutely nothing.
The agony of this belated realization compressed alongside the water pressure, crushing the Duke from all sides. His strength was rapidly fading. As his body went limp, the First Prince began to reshape the watery pillar into a sphere. The sphere enclosing him shrank to the height of his body and began to drift slowly. It seemed the prince was preparing to drop him off the cliff, just as tradition dictated.
Yes, this is the end. Perhaps his entire life up to this point had been a waste of time, but in his final moment, he had made a choice he did not have to be ashamed of. Yet, even as he faced death, worry for the young son he was leaving behind consumed him.
"My Lord!!!"
At that moment, a familiar voice echoed from behind, and the Duke forced his head to turn. It was Tollin. His dependable aide and a young friend who had stood by him for so long. Though briefly startled by the sudden appearance of the man who should have been resting in the barracks, the Duke looked at him with eyes full of apology for leaving behind such a heavy burden.
Difficult days lay ahead for Tollin for the next few years. At least until the Young Duke was old enough to inherit the family. But as he always had, Tollin would manage. His clever friend would look after his son, and his intelligent son would show Tollin the utmost respect.
A different future than the one he had envisioned would unfold, but the Duke believed it would not be an unhappy one. With that thought, his mind found a semblance of peace. Or perhaps it was just the lack of oxygen to his brain making him lightheaded.
"Executing the immediate death sentence of the sinner, Agoni Fidus!"
At the imperial aide's shout, the First Prince snapped his fingers. And the Duke plummeted.
Only then did the bag of rocks the Seventh Prince had handed him cross his mind. Though the prince probably hadn't intended it, the extra weight of the bag would ensure he plunged straight down without any agonizing delay.
Perhaps because it was his final moment, even though he was falling at an unprecedented speed, time seemed to stretch, allowing certain details to catch his eye. For instance, a figure with black hair and black eyes.
The Duke frowned slightly at the face he hadn't particularly wanted to see. It was the Seventh Prince. The boy who had mocked him in the forest earlier was now watching him quietly from among the crowd. Had it not been for their encounter today, Duke Fidus might have made a different choice. In a way, it was the prince who had given him that final push.
Well, I suppose I have the Seventh Prince to thank for a peaceful end, in more ways than one. Deciding to harbor no resentment, the Duke cast a final look at the Seventh Prince. The boy was staring back with a peculiar expression. Then, his lips parted, whispering toward the falling Duke.
"Not..."
The moment he focused on reading the prince's lips, his body plunged past the edge of the cliff, vanishing from everyone's sight. The sheer G-force of the terrifyingly rapid descent left his mind in a chaotic whirl. Thoughts flashed and faded in rapid succession.
Among them was the memory of the Seventh Prince, who had watched him with the same cold apathy as the Emperor amidst the emotionally charged crowd. Did he know this would happen today? Is that why he gave me this bag of rocks and told me to carry it all day, just so I would sink faster? To make sure I died quickly? If so, how incredibly touching.
But what bothered him most was the prince's final whisper. It was definitely...
"Not..."
Not...
"...allowed to die yet."
Did he say I'm not allowed to die yet? A flicker of confusion arose at the Seventh Prince's words, which sounded almost like a curse, but that was the limit of the Duke's fading consciousness. A moment later, he blacked out.
At that exact moment, a faint blue light began to seep from the bag he carried, wrapping around his body.