Chapter 26 – Who Do You Think You Are!? (2)

“I’ve come to pay my respects, Mother.”

“Alessius. Come closer.” With a subtle gesture from the Empress Melineos, the maids silently filed out of the chamber.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her dark eyes filled with concern.

“Yes. No problems.”

“Did it hurt much?”

“…”

“What did your father say?”

Alessius hesitated, unable to find the words.

“He may be blunt, but he cares deeply for you and Elhermina.”

“Of course. I know that.”

“He worries.”

Worries?

“Do you remember our arduous journey, searching for the Holy Sword, traveling across the continent to forge alliances?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Do you know what our greatest obstacle was during that time?”

“…I’m not sure.”

“Those who inherited leadership without being prepared. Those thrust into positions of power without the necessary experience.”

“…?”

“History is replete with examples of incompetent heirs squandering the legacies of their ancestors.”

But…

“In times of turmoil, strong leadership is essential, whether from a ruler or a guide. Yet, our era was plagued by weakness and indecision.”

Countless nations had fallen, noble families crumbled into dust.

“The Empire was no exception.”

“Is… is that so?”

“And many of those in positions of power… chose the path of betrayal.”

They’d laid traps, exploited them, used them for their own gain.

“…We faced countless crises because of them.” If not for her prophetic dreams, they might have perished, the Holy Sword lost forever. Without Elhermina, they would have died countless times.

“He wants to ensure that even if he’s gone, you and Elhermina can carry on his legacy. That you won’t crumble under the weight of his achievements.”

That was why…

“When you proposed the union with the second daughter of House Estina, he didn’t object.” In fact, he’d been pleased. He’d seen it as a sign of Alessius taking initiative, forging his own path.

“…Father was pleased?”

“He’s sparing with his praise because he fears you’ll become arrogant. But when we’re alone, he speaks highly of both you and Elhermina.”

“…” Father?

“I heard Cariel… dealt with you rather harshly.”

“That’s… because of my own shortcomings…”

“Weren’t you afraid?”

“…” Afraid? Perhaps, for a fleeting moment. But…

“No. I wasn’t afraid.”

“Why not?”

“…Because compared to Father’s discipline, it was… nothing.” He’d been trained to endure pain. Conquer it, or it will conquer you.

“…” Though not torture in the strictest sense, his father’s “training” had been brutal, leaving deep-seated scars. It had also forged him into someone unusually resilient, unusually bold for his age. He stood apart from his peers.

See? It was nothing. His father’s words, accompanied by a reassuring pat on the head, echoed in his memory.

“Cariel is extraordinary, but he’s always disliked conflict. He prefers making friends, understanding people, helping them with their problems.”

“…”

“I know you resented him because of Elhermina.”

“Mother…”

“But you were wrong. If your father hadn’t stopped me, I would have told you to stop long ago.” Children’s conflicts should be resolved by children. Adult interference only exacerbated the problem, leaving lasting scars.

“Grudges can last a lifetime. That’s probably what he believed as well.” By facing his siblings, overcoming unjust trials, and prevailing even in unfavorable battles, he had become the Hero Emperor.

“Unlike your father, you never had to worry about assassination attempts or political maneuvering. So why were you so impatient?” Could it be…

“Did you desire the throne?”

“N-no! I would never… I’ve never even dreamed of such a thing!”

“That’s a lie.” The Empress smiled gently. “Elhermina… perhaps she never wanted to be Emperor.”

“…Sister?” Impossible. Could it be…?

“She simply wanted to protect.” Because she was kind. “…But she also knew, better than anyone, that no one could do it for her.”

He vaguely recalled a time, during their childhood, when Elhermina had declared, before everyone, that she would protect Cariel and make the Empire strong, free from the influence of their enemies. From that day forward, she’d dedicated herself to her studies, mastering martial arts, magic, everything she could.

“And that small boy… Cariel… he achieved the peace we all yearned for, even if only for a short time. I’m still grateful for the miracle he brought about. Your father feels the same. Perhaps even more so than I do.”

It was unbelievable. How? But it was true.

“…” Cariel.

When he returned to the Empire…

I… we… were ready to welcome him as a hero. Even though he was the son of a hero but didn’t wish to wield a sword. Even though he seemed reluctant to fight. Even when he treated everyone equally, regardless of their status. They’d seen it as a sign of his noble character, his inherent goodness.

And yet…

Why did you betray us?

Why did you turn your back on my sister, give your heart to another?

Why did you try to leave the Empire, without taking any responsibility?

Why? For what reason?

“…” Alessius couldn’t bring himself to voice his true feelings. To admit his own pettiness, his jealousy. It was too shameful. It wouldn’t change anything. In a world ruled by results…

We’ve crossed a point of no return. Just as Cariel had said. And so, he too had lashed out, not with words, but with actions. With consequences.

Father always favored you. Though he never said it outright, he always held you up as an example. Whenever he was disappointed in Alessius, he’d mention Cariel. Elhermina seemed to accept it, but he couldn’t.

If that’s my flaw, my weakness… then so be it.

From the moment you betrayed my sister, I vowed to never forgive you.

“This is… as always… my fault.”

“Al…” Perhaps, just as his father had pointed out, he’d taken things for granted. He’d become accustomed to wielding power, to pushing and prodding, even when he knew it would hurt.

“If that’s what Sister wants, this union between our families… then I will gladly accept it.”

If Cariel hated him, rejected him… then he would endure it. He wouldn’t simply accept defeat, but…

We are no longer destined to live under the same sky. Cariel’s words echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder.

Just then…

“Your… Your Majesty! Urgent news!” A breathless voice called from outside the door.

====

The sun had set, and even the moon hid behind the clouds.

Cariel stood by the window in his darkened room, gazing out at the quiet courtyard below. He felt… nothing.

Hadn’t he played there once, long ago? Hadn’t he dreamed of becoming a hero, wielding a branch like a holy sword?

Now, there was only emptiness.

“Is that a reason to stop training?” he asked the empty air, his voice hollow.

–It’s pointless to continue. Your mind and body are out of sync. Pushing yourself further will only be detrimental.–

“…”

When he should be striving to improve, to grow stronger… he was being told to stop? Then what was left for him?

–Sigh.– It was worse than she’d anticipated. She’d left him to his own devices, to see how long he could endure, and he’d persevered for eight long years. Even that had only ended because she’d intervened. Who knew how much longer he would have continued?

Eight years. Lost in that dreamscape, honing his swordsmanship. While only a single day had passed in the real world, he’d lived through eight years of relentless training, dying countless times before he’d even formally begun his tutelage under her, learning the secrets of the Fool’s Sword.

–His potential is extraordinary, but… twisted.– Like a plant growing unchecked, its branches sprawling in all directions for lack of proper guidance. Humans were adaptable, yes, but even if madness led to strength, what separated that from the ravings of a sick mind? True strength required a touch of madness, perhaps, but it didn’t necessitate becoming broken, mentally or physically. Such a path inevitably led to catastrophic flaws.

And the Fool’s Sword, though born of madness, wasn’t some simple technique a broken mind could master.

–He tormented himself, choosing paths contrary to his nature, and his actions bore fruit in the worst possible way.– He was… gone. Lost in the intoxicating allure of vengeance, yet finding no joy, no satisfaction. Even when he’d faced Patina, wielding his own body like a disposable weapon, he’d retained a spark of humanity. Now, that spark was extinguished.

–I don’t care if you self-destruct, but if you do, you’ll die before you achieve anything.–

“…”

–You think it doesn’t matter, don’t you? You’re already miserable, so even if the contract fails, you believe there’s no greater misfortune awaiting you.–

“…” That’s right. Everything feels meaningless. If it didn’t… he wouldn’t have brutalized the prince so mercilessly. It wasn’t in his nature. But he’d done it, without hesitation, without remorse.

Perhaps I’m broken.

–That’s what you want to believe.– Not entirely wrong, but not entirely right either. As long as there was a will, there was a way. And sometimes, even miracles happened.

–More importantly… it’s time, isn’t it?–

“…Yes.” Being confined to his room like this felt absurdly unjust. It shouldn’t have come to this, but… besides the incident with the prince, another urgent report had reached the capital.

–A brother? Or a sister? What do you think?–

“It doesn’t matter.” His mother was about to give birth. The Church must be in an uproar. If the signs had appeared at the estate, the entire household would be in chaos. They said the cathedral was surrounded by people praying for a safe delivery.

He’d been brought here by his father, who’d also relayed news of the prince. –Prince Alessius claims it was his fault and asked that you not be punished.–

Clever, Alessius. As always.

–I can’t believe… my own son… would commit such a… monstrous act…– His father’s words were filled with a weary disappointment.

Inside the carriage, the two had sat in strained silence. Luelde seemed to struggle with how to address the situation. Whether to offer comfort or reprimand, he seemed unable to decide, his lips pressed into a thin line. He’d likely resolved to have a serious discussion once they returned home, even if it meant resorting to violence to get through to Cariel.

But then news of Ermina’s labor had arrived. If not for that, Cariel would still be facing his father’s judgment.

“A guitar, you said?”

–Hmm?–

“A musical instrument. A guitar. You mentioned a magic guitar, right? I doubt I could manage that, but… it doesn’t need to be magical, does it?”

–If the settlers here have built guitars… then perhaps you could use one. Until then, why not try a lute? I can teach you while we’re at it.– The Demon King chuckled softly. Yes, this was a good distraction. He’d instinctively turned to music for solace, searching for a way to cope.

–And as I mentioned before, there’s something you’ll need to face the Holy Sword.–

“The magic armor?”

–Precisely.– And there’s a particular suit that would be perfect for you. –Grandeus’s armor. Let’s go retrieve it. If you’re leaving anyway, it’s best to have a destination.–

“…”

–You are leaving, aren’t you?–

“Of course.” If not now, when? There was no reason to hesitate. His only regret…

“Leaving like this… it feels like running away. Like I’m a criminal escaping justice.” It was a strangely unsettling feeling. He hadn’t even truly begun his revenge.

“The Academy will be on break soon. I could use that opportunity to disappear, to cover my tracks.”

–Aren’t you more concerned about assassins seeking revenge?–

“If I can learn something from the experience… then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.” He’d learned, facing death, that nothing in this world came free. The greater the reward, the greater the cost. There were no shortcuts, no easy paths to power. Salvation didn’t come to those who waited. Patience and hesitation were not the same. He’d hesitated for far too long, languishing in the darkness.

–It will be dangerous. No one will be there to protect you.–

“I’ll endure.” He’d prayed for salvation, but in the end… it was an illusion. Salvation had to be earned. A lesson learned far too late.