An Outsider Appears
"What do you mean by that? That man is as good as dead anyway. He's not someone we can save!"
Another splinter of shattered wood rained down beside the frustrated Tollin. Limping heavily, the Duke hurriedly dragged Tollin toward the entrance. While the secret passage might have been safer, Tollin had no way of knowing the route, and there was no time to explain.
"Go down the tower right now and inform the other royals gathered for the ritual of what is happening here. The only reason Prince Dito has moved so cautiously until now is because he was wary of the other royals. This is the only way to bring this fight to a swift end."
"Why must you walk into certain death again for the sake of a man like that?" Tollin asked, struggling to shake off the Duke's grip.
The Duke spoke rapidly, but Tollin kept trying to wrench his arm free. In doing so, he let out a sharp groan, clutching his recently popped-back-in shoulder.
Startled by Tollin's obvious agony, the Duke's grip loosened, and Tollin seized the opportunity to step back from the threshold.
"There is no need to take the risk of bringing the other royals into this. If the Young Duke has escaped, there is no reason for you to remain here. We should use this chaos to flee together. After all, Jack and Pale are already..."
Tollin trailed off, but the Duke easily guessed the unspoken words. His brow furrowed with deep sorrow.
"Even so, I cannot simply run away. That man saved my life, and Flynn's."
Even knowing what kind of man I am.
There were too many truths they needed to share. What had happened to his child, why he had saved him, and why he had helped his son escape. Moreover, his instincts screamed a warning: if Ratel died, if he vanished from this world, there would never be anyone left to stand against the Imperial Family.
"I cannot stand by and watch him die."
"You are making that choice again," Tollin said, his voice trembling.
"What about the Young Duke? What about the people of our duchy? You have no idea how we survived, or with what desperation I held onto my post...! And yet, you stand before me now, ready to throw away your life once more?"
Tollin's bloodshot eyes locked onto the Duke. The grievances he had failed to voice during their final parting, the resentment he could never hurl at a dead man, finally erupted.
"Damn it, can't you just live selfishly for once? No, actually, you are being selfish. Because choosing a clean death and dumping all the consequences on those left behind is the easiest way out! But what about those left behind? What about us...!"
Unable to finish his sentence, Tollin bowed his head. The Duke gently placed a hand on his crown. Tollin said nothing, but he did not pull away.
"You are entirely correct. I am a selfish old fool who knows nothing."
Though they were his own words, Tollin flinched when he heard the Duke direct such harsh self-deprecation upon himself.
"I lived to this ripe old age and knew absolutely nothing. Not what to protect, nor how to protect it. I lived in blissful ignorance. That is why, the moment I was cornered, I fled into the sanctuary of death, dumping the entire burden onto your shoulders."
The Duke's hand patted Tollin's head, very slowly.
"I am truly sorry."
The corners of Duke Fides's wrinkled eyes crinkled. Tollin, who had been listening in silence, slowly raised his head.
"But you still won't run away, will you?"
The Duke nodded.
"What I want to protect right now is neither that man nor the Emperor. It is my family. And for their sake, that man must live."
Tollin stared into those unwavering eyes, then looked up. It was always like this. Agoni Fides was honest, upright, and frustratingly stubborn. Yet, it was precisely because of those qualities that Tollin had followed him.
Boom! A thunderous roar echoed from the ceiling above, generated by the clash between the Second Prince and Ratel. The Duke was right. If they fled now, the Fides family was finished anyway. Groveling to appease the royals was no longer an option. Having crossed the Imperial Family, there was no way they could survive within the Abaran Empire. Even if they abandoned everything and ran, how long could they survive as fugitives? That would never bring happiness to the Young Duke, nor to himself.
Crash! Another massive collapse shook the tower, followed by the heavy vibration of someone crashing to the ground. Tollin listened blankly to the sounds of destruction, his mind racing. Who in this entire empire of Abaran would dare to challenge the Imperial Family head-on? His heart burned. When the Duke was executed, when they were humiliated, when the Young Duke was kidnapped—there had been so little he could do. He had bowed his head, begged for forgiveness, and pleaded. Yet, he had remained anxious, lonely, and terrified. He knew that what he was doing was no different from kneeling at the base of a crumbling dam, praying that the floodwaters wouldn't spill over.
Tollin looked at Duke Fides with trembling eyes. The Duke, who was suggesting they carve out a new path for the water rather than merely running from the flood, simply stared back at him without further urging. Tollin closed his eyes tight, then opened them.
"I... will go rescue the Young Duke. If we survive, I will find a way for us to escape."
Before the Duke could reply, he quickly added:
"That madman turned the priests and knights at the base of the tower into bloody pulps, so a crowd will gather before long anyway. If word gets out that Prince Dito is being attacked by some ruffian, the other royals will surely assemble."
He spoke in his usual fastidious tone. The Duke's face brightened.
"Flynn went downstairs. He might be wandering aimlessly through the dangerous streets of the capital. Please, protect him."
"That has been my duty since the day the Young Duke was born. You can count on me."
Dodging the debris falling from the ceiling, Tollin descended the stairs he had just climbed. He was essentially returning empty-handed, but he felt no sense of futility. His footsteps were light.
Duke Fides could not watch the departing Tollin for long.
Crash!!! With a deafening roar, the roof of the tower caved in. Throwing himself out of the way of the collapsing ceiling, Duke Fides stared at the figure standing amidst the swirling dust. Was it Ratel, or Prince Dito? As the dust settled, the hair revealed was, despairingly, a brilliant platinum blonde.
"Is this all you've got? Didn't you say you were going to take everything from me?"
The Duke stared blankly at Dito, who was giggling like an excited child in the middle of the dust storm. Had Ratel lost? So suddenly? He had held a slight advantage just moments ago—why had he been defeated so helplessly? Instead of wasting time on useless thoughts, the Duke sprang to his feet and ran to do what he could.
The Duke grabbed Ratel's collapsed body and rolled. Dito's sword plunged into the floor, grazing Ratel's hair. The blade pierced the stone floor as effortlessly as a paring knife slicing through a soft peach.
"Ah, now that I think about it, that fellow saved your son. You two must be quite close."
Dito's gaze, now entirely relaxed, locked onto the Duke. The Duke felt his body freeze, like a mouse before a cat. Dito laughed convulsively, as if his body could barely contain the overflowing power surging through him. Something had changed. He was no longer just strong and beautiful. He had become something far more bizarre, more sinister.
"Leave your son to me, Duke. I will ensure he meets the most agonizing end possible."
His finger pointed directly at the Duke's heart.
"In appreciation of your hard work all these years, I will grant you a quick death."
He sneered, clearly relishing the way the Duke's eyes filled with terror.
"Cut the bullshit."
A characteristically insolent voice rang out as a flash of light whipped past the Duke's ear. Aimed directly at Dito's eyes, the projectile only managed to graze his cheek. The Duke looked back.
"Cough!"
Ratel, spitting up a handful of blood, was struggling to push himself up. At least he's still alive.
"Hey, if you're awake, get up. I'm no match for the Prince."
At the Duke's urging, Ratel slowly picked himself up and gripped his sword once more.
"You sound proud of that," Ratel muttered.
He didn't miss the chance to throw a jab. However, despite his cocky tone, his body was far from fully recovered; he spat out another mouthful of blood.
"I suppose even you can't do much when your insides are charred, eh?" Dito giggled.
Whether it was a curse or a blessing, Dito's own body was actively regenerating the hole in his abdomen. Watching the wound close up with sickening speed, the Duke clenched his fists. Ratel clutched his chest wound as he stood.
"As expected, you can't defeat me."
Ratel stared at Dito, who was muttering gleefully, and spoke.
"What did you eat?"
"Something that belonged to my brother. No, wait, it was originally mine, so I suppose I just took it back?"
After babbling as if his mind were elsewhere, Dito raised his sword again, as if none of that mattered anymore.
"You don't need to know any more. You're going to die soon anyway."
Abruptly cutting off his laughter, he unleashed another blast of fire directly at Ratel's healing wound. It was too fast. Unlike before, the speed was impossible to track with the naked eye, leaving the Duke no time to intervene. The attack gouged into the unhealed wound, causing Ratel to cough up blood once more and collapse backward.
"You're such excellent material that I wanted to keep you alive, but I have no choice. You're too dangerous."
Dito raised his hand, aiming a bow-like streak of fire at Ratel's arm. Since this attack lacked significant power, the Duke barely managed to deflect its trajectory. But it was clear that this had been mere child's play to Dito. By the time the Duke recovered his senses after blocking the single strike, both he and Ratel were already trapped inside a hexahedral prison of fire.
Watching Ratel and the Duke trapped inside a box of six fiery walls, Dito clenched his fist. Instantly, the empty space inside began to fill with flames. The fire closed in on them, threatening to incinerate them. The heat was meltingly intense. This cannot be stopped. Even amidst the scorching heat, Agoni Fides's face turned deathly pale. His strength was utterly insufficient to break free from this prison of fire. He had always been powerless before their might. If a god decrees our death, to whom do we pray? As the Duke closed his eyes and prepared for the end, a shadow suddenly fell over them.
"Stop."
At the sound of the familiar voice, Duke Fides snapped his eyes open. Standing by the window with the moonlight at his back, the figure leaned into the tower. The flames illuminating the interior cast their light upon the face previously shrouded in shadow.
"Seventh Prince..."
Agoni Fides muttered under his breath. It was the Seventh Prince, Ran Abaran. The black-haired prince, who had been the catalyst for everything, stared at Dito with eyes far more resolute than those the Duke had seen during their final moments on the cliff. Even if he looked rather ungraceful at the moment—gasping heavily for breath, drenched in sweat, and clearly pushed to his absolute limit.