The Weight of Duty

Arnat repeatedly clenched and unclenched his dry hands.

Unlike his mind, his body was betraying a sense of unnatural calm. A moment later, sweat began to bead on his palms. Only then did Arnat feel a strange sense of relief, realizing that his mind and body were finally reacting in sync.

Despite that relief, Arnat felt a sudden, violent urge to tear the letter in his hand to shreds. It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't because of the sender, but because of the contents within.

The letter had come from his older brother back in their homeland, Cellabris. Several letters had been sent, but due to a delivery error, they had all arrived at once. The contents were as follows:

Arnat sighed and put down Ondalan's letter. Then, he turned his eyes to the other letter. Unlike the modest letter his brother had sent, this one was written on more luxurious, softer paper.

The contents of that letter were much stiffer than Ondalan's, and it contained an order that could not be defied.

Arnat closed his eyes tightly and then opened them. He had thought that once everything was over, he would be the only one left to overcome the situation. But the enemy's intentions were still not fully revealed.

The abolition of the National Soul Festival. The restoration of the era of the Conqueror King Cellabart.

But what did it mean to suddenly demand the collection of magical beast crystals?

If it were just Ondalan keeping him updated, the information could have been interpreted as a move to sway public sentiment. But King Erdil and Hamses had assigned tasks even to him, who had been exiled abroad for opposing them.

It was natural for Arnat to be suspicious of their intentions.

Sharing this information was just as unexpected.

Regardless, he could not ignore a royal command. Arnat began to write a reply confirming that he had received the letter.

After some time, Arnat went to the post office in the Hesno territory with the letter in hand.

"I'll leave this to you."

"Understood, Lord Arnat."

It was while he was watching the post office officials, whose faces he had seen many times before, handle the work skillfully that it happened.

"Could it be, Lord Arnat?"

Arnat turned his gaze. A young man with black hair and white skin, with a sturdy build—a head shorter than himself—was staring at him.

Arnat was a bit flustered. The other party seemed to know him, but he did not know the other party. Not remembering someone was a discourtesy if they were acquaintances. Arnat carefully observed the man who had suddenly appeared for a moment.

The point to note was that the young man was carrying a spear.

The spear was a weapon favored by the Wind Temple, and it was rare for an individual to practice with it. However, in the Hesno territory, the head of the Hesno family—the ruling family—and their heirs were traditionally ordained as lay priests of the Wind Temple for generations.

Therefore, the man's identity was at least someone related to the Hesno territory. Thinking more deeply, he was someone who could be considered a legitimate successor candidate.

Arnat wondered how he could have forgotten the face of such a person. After thinking it over, Arnat finally found a faint trace of the boy he had been in the man's rugged appearance.

"Young Lord Hamori. It's been a long time."

Hamori, the young lord of the Hesno family, smiled whitely through his flowing black hair.

"It's been a while. I never expected to see you on the day I returned home."

"Returned home? Were you abroad?"

"After you left, I went to the forest of the Riso family for training."

Hamori tilted his head and asked tentatively.

"Didn't you know?"

"I haven't been staying here long. Besides, I'm on a mission."

"Ah, I see. Since I thought you would be staying in the family estate, I assumed you would know about my whereabouts."

Hamori said in a tone that sounded a bit hurt.

Although Arnat was tall, it didn't mean Hamori, the young lord, was short. The figure of the young man with the spear contrasted sharply with Arnat, a Cellabrisian holding a staff with a snake-head carving at the end.

"Shall we head back first?"

Arnat spoke first. On the way back to the castle, the two walked, letting the curious gazes and admiration of the people around them slide off like water off a duck's back.

Then Arnat spoke again.

"Did you finish your training journey well?"

"Haha, no. To borrow the words of the priests, is there an end to training? I just returned because there was work to be done."

"It's because of your father, isn't it?"

Hamori flinched and looked back at Arnat. Arnat nodded.

"Yes. Your father is ill."

"...Did you know?"

"I am tied to this place to alleviate that."

"What? Didn't you say you had a mission? What about your mission?"

"I will handle that myself. It's fine even if Lord Hamori doesn't get involved."

Arnat spoke professionally. At first glance, it might sound dry and heartless, but Arnat was like this to everyone except his family. Nevertheless, one could feel a warm glow in the fact that he was concerned for others.

Hamori wiped his face with his hand. It was a gesture that suggested if worry were dust, his hands would be covered in it.

"My father. Is he very sick?"

"It is Crystallization Disease."

Arnat did not try to speak euphemistically or hide it. What was the point of hiding a truth that would be faced anyway?

Hamori was simply left speechless at the words.

"Crystallization Disease..."

One could easily guess Hamori's state of mind from the word he spat out like a groan. Crystallization Disease was an incurable illness.

However, that was not enough to explain the disease. To be more precise, it was a disease for which the cure had been forgotten after the head priest of the Earth Temple left the kingdom and went into hiding in the world.

Usually occurring in practitioners, this disease did not cause much of a problem when small, but once it grew to a certain size, it caused intense pain. Eventually, one had to live on strong painkillers, and as the pain intensified, the painkillers used became stronger.

Furthermore, the constantly flowing Essence gradually increased the size of the crystals formed in the body. But there was no way to remove these growing crystals anywhere, and the lost cure could not be found.

Those who started with the disease in the extremities of their limbs, like arms or legs, could just cut them off, but those who had it in their torso could not even do that.

"Where... is the area where the crystals have formed on Father?"

"In the lower abdomen."

Hamori could not continue. But Arnat still had more to say. And it was necessary.

"Act with composure. The Lord will welcome the return of his young lord, but he will not want to show weakness to his child yet."

Hamori nodded and asked.

"Are you going with me?"

"Yes. It is the time I need to check on him anyway."

The two crossed the castle corridor and entered the Lord's hall. Despite the signs of illness, there was a man who radiated the opinion that he was still capable of enduring it with his whole body.

Although somewhat wrinkled, he had the same black hair and white skin as Hamori. The spear on the stand installed on the back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the throne was a symbol and token that explained his life.

Hamori and Arnat bowed their heads lightly to the owner of that spear. It was not against etiquette. Arnat was a Cellabrisian, and Hamori was the Lord's son.

"Who is this, Hamori. My proud son! When did you return?"

"I am glad to see you look comfortable, Father. I returned today and was about to send word. On the way, I met Lord Arnat and came to greet you together."

Dollen laughed heartily and was delighted. He was a somewhat young Lord, and so he was full of energy. Hamori wondered if Dollen's condition was not as severe as Arnat had said.

And that thought was immediately shattered.

"Cough! Cough!"

"Father!"

An uncontrollable cough, too excessive to be seen as just choking while laughing, was vomited from the Lord's mouth. And blood.

But Dollen waved his hand at Hamori, who was trying to approach. It was then that Arnat, who was next to the hesitating Hamori, stepped forward.

Arnat, who reached Dollen's side, concentrated his Essence in his right hand. The Essence, condensed to the point where it could be seen with the naked eye, burned with a pale light. That hand reached Dollen's right lower abdomen. And Arnat said to the attendant who was waiting nearby.

"Is the decoction ready?"

"I, I just finished boiling it and was cooling it down."

"Bring it."

In front of Hamori, Arnat continued to treat Dollen's abdomen with Essence while receiving the decoction.

"Please drink slowly, my Lord."

"Thank you, Lord Arnat."

Dollen, who smiled bitterly, took the medicine with a pale face.

Hamori was shocked.

His father, who had always been robust, could not hide his weakness in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠front of his child. Feeling a heart-wrenching pain, Hamori stood there.