Chapter 276
Adrian Leonberger (4)
The fire gradually subsided, and soon it completely died down. It was at that moment that the Crown Prince, who had been standing and looking at the flames, collapsed.
“Your Highness!”
Adelia embraced his pale body on the ground. Arwen quickly examined the prince’s condition; his eyes were closed and he was unmoving.
“Get him inside at once!”
Adelia, who was crying as she hugged the prince, jumped up and hurried him toward his palace.
“Sir Carls, go ahead and alert them of this. And bring the wizard! Bring him now!”
Carls Ulrich hurried away from the prince’s palace. In the meantime, the prince’s knights grew pale as they entered and noticed his state.
“The wizard! Is the wizard coming!” one of them yelled sharply.
“He’s coming.”
At this, Adelia clung to the Crown Prince, shedding tears. Arwen Kirgayen watched it all with her hardened face: the prince, pale and haggard; and the knights, yelling and weeping. A nightmarish vision entered her mind: the prince’s smiling face as he shoved his sword into his chest, with his body gradually tilting to the ground, finally becoming a cold corpse. She saw the crying knights, and she could not get close to him, she could merely look on blankly.
Her head suddenly jerked, and her feet and hands began to twitch. It was difficult for Arwen to breathe as her heart tightened.
“Wfoo. Whoo.”
She clenched her teeth and tried to banish the terrible scene from that day. However, no matter how hard she tried, her terrible imaginings did not disappear. Arwen stretched out her hand and took the prince’s.
Inwardly, she repeated countless times, ‘The coldness in his hand is merely because of the icy wind.’
‘Guoak!’
Without knowing it, she had clenched her hands.
‘Strt!’
Surprised by this, she relaxed her grasp. She then shuddered and carefully grabbed the prince’s hand once more.
‘Bwak!’ The door opened violently.
From beyond the aperture, Palace Knight Carls appeared. The wizard’s complexion, coming in behind Carls, was hard and stern. It seemed that ominous imaginings ran through his mind after he witnessed the atmosphere of panic among the knights.
“What are you doing? Come on, don’t just look at his Highness!”
The knights standing by the bedside gave voice to blood-curdling shouts. A grouping of lights appeared on the wizard’s fingertips. The constant screams of the knights ceased only then. While they watched on with stiff faces, the wizard reached out his hand and grasped the prince.
“Well…”
The wizard raised his head after his examination.
“I’m-”
“His Highness! How is His Highness?!”
“What the hell is wrong?!”
“Ooh! Is His Highness okay?”
The moment the wizard tried to speak, the knights poured out questions.
“Now, let’s take it easy,” he gently chided them.
However, the knights did not seem to calm down.
“His Highness merely fainted for a while because of his exhausted heart!” the wizard shouted, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the knights’ concern borne of their extreme loyalty.
“Good thing. It’s really good,” Carls said over and over again in a relieved tone with his eyes closed.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!” Adelia, weeping, now began to cry out loud.
“Alas…”
Then Arwen raised her hands to her temple and pressed onto her eyelids. Her throbbing heart’s pain, which felt as if a sword was stuck into her chest, subsided. The terrible thoughts that had entered her mind disappeared like lies. Her head became empty. All that remained was the thought of being fortunate. When she found such relief, the last of her strength left her. Her eyes felt wet, making her dry away the tears with her hand. Arwen opened her eyes and looked around.
Fortunately, no one was looking at her. She once again straightened her face, taking a deep breath. Arwen’s expression quickly took on its usual bluntness, and she spoke.
“Then, is His Highness okay?”
The wizard turned to her and nodded his head.
“He’s just sleeping, so there is nothing to worry about.”
Arwen once again sighed in relief.
‘Dwak!’
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At that moment, the door opened and a man with pale skin entered.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!”
It was Vincent Balahard.
“He fainted for a while, but there seems nothing special about it.”
“You say there’s nothing wrong with him, so why did he fall? Look at his Highness again, healer!”
Seeing Vincent’s sad look, the wizard didn’t dare counter his words and once again studied the prince’s body.
“There is nothing wrong with him.”
“Thank you… thank you.”
Only then did Vincent breathe a sigh of relief and continually poured out words of gratitude toward the healer.
“That kid fell! What the hell happened?!”
Through the open door, the king appeared with his palace knights.
“He is asleep now. After a little rest, he will get up comfortably, so don’t be too concerned.”
“But why does a healthy man lose consciousness and faint?”
With the king having the same reaction as Vincent, the wizard sighed and gathered light at the tips of his hands again.
“It’s the same even after I’ve checked a few times. His Highness is merely sleeping.”
“Ah, that’s fortunate. That’s fortunate.”
The reassured king repeatedly said that it was fortunate.
“His Highness has fallen!?”
Then the old marquis entered, closing the door.
“What the hell is this about!”
One moment later, the Prime Minister opened the door and appeared.
“Brother! Brother!”
After hearing the news, the second prince had also come running, pale with terror.
“His Highness is fine.”
The wizard was still forced to prove the prince’s haleness to every visitor, so much so that his throat dried up and the energy within his body became exhausted.
***
“What the hell happened to my son, that he became so exhausted from his heart, reaching the point of fainting?”
In response to the king’s question, Carls stepped forward. He then, in detail, explained the lighting of the fire and the prince’s burning of the statues which he had made over the past month.
“In his Highness’s eyes, it looked as if he was attending a funeral for a family member.”
The king closed his eyes as he heard Carls say that the prince had said goodbye to someone. Then, after a while, the king opened his eyes and began speaking for some length.
“That boy is indeed ignorant. I don’t even know what’s in him, or how to get rid of the tangled skeins of his being. That a man who is knowledgeable about swords and war can be so ignorant and blind about himself…”
The king’s face became filled with guilt.
“This is because, when he was a child, when he needed warmth, he was so isolated that he missed the opportunity to learn about people. He didn’t know people, and he didn’t know about himself either.”
The king continued to say that everything was his fault.
“Such a boy has wandered battlefields for seven years now. How many deaths has he seen so far, and how many deaths plague his memory? To know that my son, who has not learned how to loosen the knots in his heart, has faced so many countless deaths… Even my own insides would be rotted and rubbed raw at such sights. If only I had known… he wouldn’t have to cry out, feverish, groaning in his nightmares of those who’ve died.”
Hearing the king’s words, all the knights except Adelia stretched their eyes wide.
“What is that?” Vincent asked.
“You didn’t know? No matter how much you two are friends, you could only know after sleeping in the same room as my son. It’s natural that you don’t know.”
The king went on to tell them what he had seen on the night the queen had died, when the Crown Prince had been beset by fever.
“Oh, Sir Adelia- Are his Majesty’s words true?” Vincent asked, which made Adelia burst into tears once more.
“Yes… In fact, His Highness …”
It was through her words that the knights came to know the truth. What kind of nightmares have the Crown Prince been suffering from, they wondered?
“Well… After the queen went so bravely, it got worse. And later, there was no night when his Highness was not sick and groaning.”
The knights closed their eyes tightly.
Updated from lightnovelworld.com
“Because my son couldn’t even mourn and process everything properly, he got sick. When he was sick, he grunted and groaned all night without even knowing about it. When he woke up, he again grabbed his sword even if his stomach was so raw and rotten with grief.”
Even while the other knights despaired after hearing of the prince’s situation, being sick all alone, the king spoke on.
“My son has seen all those who have departed, now. Since he has been distant and cut off for seven years straight, how can he not feel it? But since he has forcibly removed such accumulated feelings and burned them on the fire… Will his suffering be less?” the king wondered, affirming that it was not chunks of wood that the Crown Prince had carved over the past month, but a part of his own heart—and that which he had burned today was surely that sliver of his heart, not statuettes.
“No wonder he said goodbye with a bright smile. It could have been no different—he couldn’t even shed tears because he never learned to cry.”
The king stopped talking. Then he suddenly bowed his head to the knights.
“Hwa- Your Majesty?”
“Why does your Majesty lower your head!”
The knights exclaimed their surprise with great terror. The king did not raise his head, however. He just stated, “You will lead the effort. Help me so that my son can fill the void in his heart, which he has cut open, pulled out, and emptied.”
The remorseful father said he could only watch and that they were the only ones who could soothe the prince’s empty heart. One by one, the king made eye contact with the knights.
“It is not just my sword that I have dedicated to his Highness, so I will do this with all my heart.”
“Is there any man that would pretend not to know the brother who shares his blood? Need I say more?”
“There is no right for us to lead from the front, but with bright eyes and strong legs, we will guard and follow from behind.”
Meeting the king’s gaze, Arwen, Vincent, and Carls each responded respectively with a strong, friendly, or determined expression. Adelia said nothing, clutching the prince’s hand tightly as she shed tears. But even if she didn’t answer, her resolve was as clear as day, and everyone knew of her faithfulness in keeping close to the prince. The king now looked at his son with a more comfortable face.
“Please have a good dream.”
**
I was dreaming. In my dream, I was a little boy. There was nothing special about me, and even though I was of royal birth, my qualities could be seen in any child. But unfortunately, this child was a person who should not be ordinary. The world compelled me to be bold and extraordinary, and people have always demanded more than I was able to be.
This child tried, but the fruit people wanted him to pluck were always high, out of his reach.
Still, he tried. And the effort shrunk him.
“This country, founded by our ancestors through blood and sweat, is on the verge of becoming a windy wasteland. You have to keep your mind sharp and make greater efforts.”
The only things that came from my father’s mouth, when I needed warmth, were words of rebuke and not of comfort.
“Ian, I’m sorry, but mommy is busy now. Let’s talk again later.”
My mother, who was always the only element that could appease my loneliness, always pledged that we would talk at another time. There was no place for this child to find rest anywhere in the vast world; there was no single person to take care of him among multitudes of people.
Then some things happened.
“Yes! What are you doing?!”
His father’s anger was like an inferno. This child, not knowing what was going on, was simply terrified as he waited for his father’s wroth to abate. However, even after some time passed, his father remained angered.
“You don’t deserve to lead this country!”
In the face of anger that increased with every passing day, the child one day walked, then ran to the edge of a cliff.
“Ian!”
His mother came then and reached out her hand, but the already terrified child ran away, not for a second thinking of grasping her hand. At the end of his flight, the place he stopped at was covered in shade.
“Your Highness… You’re a man who’s got it hard, but for you, the world will become a flower garden. All the troubles and ills of the word will disappear, far away.”
The child’s mind was so crowded with tormenting thoughts that he could not resist these cunning whispers.
And so, he placed his hand on a substance he shouldn’t have touched. He got through that day with a hazy spirit, made drunk by the strange gift.
“It’s not your Highness’s fault… What is wrong is the world.”
He endured every day, comforted by the wicked whispers he heard in the midst of his confused dreams. Meanwhile, more contempt and ridicule than ever before began to fill the child’s world. It was then that a man who others called a foreigner, his uncle, came to him, a man whose face he could not even remember.
“This boy can never be a king of men.”
Seeing the child scatterbrained, drunk on something, this man left the palace in fiery anger. After he left, dozens of heads were mounted on stakes on the plain outside the capital. These were the severed heads of the gang who had provided the child with his only succor.
“Well, that’s it. Count Balahard has announced that those who ever again offer something to obscure his Highness’s spirit will have their limbs severed and their eyes dug out by crows,” the boy heard the king declare.
He began wandering through the alleys in search of a new group of suppliers but couldn’t get what he wanted. All that came to his hands was a strange poison. This poison the child sent north, guided by his hatred. Over time, the confusion that had dominated his mind faded away. And in front of the reality he faced, the boy was sorrowful.
Hatred, contempt; contempt, anger—what could a child do in the face of such suffocating evil?
“Do you dare look at me with your eyes!”
He simply yelled, swinging his hands and feet while treating everyone with an evil spirit. Like a wounded beast, he roared while concealing his weakness and turning away from his fears. But he already knew: the truth was that he was very wrong. Yet the shouts that he had begun shouting in horror hardened into a habit; he became depraved and violent. His spasms and screams that hid his weakness and fear morphed into violence done against the weak.
By the time the boy realized this, he was, unfortunately, too far gone.
He couldn’t go back; he could not return.
“Don’t you want to set everything back to normal?”
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It was then that the Empire’s ambassador came to him with slick words.
“Get the Dragon Slayer.”
Ian could not ignore the possibility of everything returning to as it was if only he obtained the founding king’s sword. And finally, he got his hands on the royal sword. Now he could get everything back; he could correct his past mistakes!
The child believed this, and he died believing it. And after his demise, he wandered through the endless void, ultimately consumed by darkness. All that remained of him were his memories imprinted within my mind, the thoughts of his life before he had forgotten his very existence.
b I didn’t mean to… I never wanted to live like this}
Thoughts of regret and despair.
b I want to live- But I don’t want to live}
Remorse and fear.
b You are better than me}
Envy and admiration.
b I’d rather be you}
Jealousy.
b Rather, if I were you…}
Craving.
b If I can’t…}
Determination
b Through you I can-}
Hope.
b I will exist in the world}
Expectation.
{I request…}
Desperation.
{Adrian Leonberger-}
These were the thoughts that overflowed within my mind.
{Live well}
And finally, they returned to nothingness. Another person’s thoughts arose in their place.
b Past and present—I chose one of them when the vague boundary came to an end}
It was a greeting left for me at the last minute by the mage who had given me her source of life.
b The long and deep dreams are finally over}
b There are still things that are lacking, things that need to be learned… things that need to be recovered, but you will do well}
I was so glad to hear the voice I had so missed, filled with the same love and concern as when she had been alive.
b It could become confusing}
I was hoping her words would last for a long time.
b But ease your thoughts}
b You were merely born again}
But, ferociously, Ophelia’s thoughts quickly faded.
b Happy birthday to you, Ian}
Then, when I finally stopped hearing her voice-
‘Fshwa!’
I woke up from my dreams.
‘Bka! Bka!’
I felt an ear-splitting sound, and at that moment-
‘Pwoo!’
Light burst from my body—from my left chest, where my heart was.
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Chapter 276
Adrian Leonberger (4)
The fire gradually subsided, and soon it completely died down. It was at that moment that the Crown Prince, who had been standing and looking at the flames, collapsed.
“Your Highness!”
Adelia embraced his pale body on the ground. Arwen quickly examined the prince’s condition; his eyes were closed and he was unmoving.
“Get him inside at once!”
Adelia, who was crying as she hugged the prince, jumped up and hurried him toward his palace.
“Sir Carls, go ahead and alert them of this. And bring the wizard! Bring him now!”
Carls Ulrich hurried away from the prince’s palace. In the meantime, the prince’s knights grew pale as they entered and noticed his state.
“The wizard! Is the wizard coming!” one of them yelled sharply.
“He’s coming.”
At this, Adelia clung to the Crown Prince, shedding tears. Arwen Kirgayen watched it all with her hardened face: the prince, pale and haggard; and the knights, yelling and weeping. A nightmarish vision entered her mind: the prince’s smiling face as he shoved his sword into his chest, with his body gradually tilting to the ground, finally becoming a cold corpse. She saw the crying knights, and she could not get close to him, she could merely look on blankly.
Her head suddenly jerked, and her feet and hands began to twitch. It was difficult for Arwen to breathe as her heart tightened.
“Wfoo. Whoo.”
She clenched her teeth and tried to banish the terrible scene from that day. However, no matter how hard she tried, her terrible imaginings did not disappear. Arwen stretched out her hand and took the prince’s.
Inwardly, she repeated countless times, ‘The coldness in his hand is merely because of the icy wind.’
‘Guoak!’
Without knowing it, she had clenched her hands.
‘Strt!’
Surprised by this, she relaxed her grasp. She then shuddered and carefully grabbed the prince’s hand once more.
‘Bwak!’ The door opened violently.
From beyond the aperture, Palace Knight Carls appeared. The wizard’s complexion, coming in behind Carls, was hard and stern. It seemed that ominous imaginings ran through his mind after he witnessed the atmosphere of panic among the knights.
“What are you doing? Come on, don’t just look at his Highness!”
The knights standing by the bedside gave voice to blood-curdling shouts. A grouping of lights appeared on the wizard’s fingertips. The constant screams of the knights ceased only then. While they watched on with stiff faces, the wizard reached out his hand and grasped the prince.
“Well…”
The wizard raised his head after his examination.
“I’m-”
“His Highness! How is His Highness?!”
“What the hell is wrong?!”
“Ooh! Is His Highness okay?”
The moment the wizard tried to speak, the knights poured out questions.
“Now, let’s take it easy,” he gently chided them.
However, the knights did not seem to calm down.
“His Highness merely fainted for a while because of his exhausted heart!” the wizard shouted, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the knights’ concern borne of their extreme loyalty.
“Good thing. It’s really good,” Carls said over and over again in a relieved tone with his eyes closed.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!” Adelia, weeping, now began to cry out loud.
“Alas…”
Then Arwen raised her hands to her temple and pressed onto her eyelids. Her throbbing heart’s pain, which felt as if a sword was stuck into her chest, subsided. The terrible thoughts that had entered her mind disappeared like lies. Her head became empty. All that remained was the thought of being fortunate. When she found such relief, the last of her strength left her. Her eyes felt wet, making her dry away the tears with her hand. Arwen opened her eyes and looked around.
Fortunately, no one was looking at her. She once again straightened her face, taking a deep breath. Arwen’s expression quickly took on its usual bluntness, and she spoke.
“Then, is His Highness okay?”
The wizard turned to her and nodded his head.
“He’s just sleeping, so there is nothing to worry about.”
Arwen once again sighed in relief.
‘Dwak!’
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At that moment, the door opened and a man with pale skin entered.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!”
It was Vincent Balahard.
“He fainted for a while, but there seems nothing special about it.”
“You say there’s nothing wrong with him, so why did he fall? Look at his Highness again, healer!”
Seeing Vincent’s sad look, the wizard didn’t dare counter his words and once again studied the prince’s body.
“There is nothing wrong with him.”
“Thank you… thank you.”
Only then did Vincent breathe a sigh of relief and continually poured out words of gratitude toward the healer.
“That kid fell! What the hell happened?!”
Through the open door, the king appeared with his palace knights.
“He is asleep now. After a little rest, he will get up comfortably, so don’t be too concerned.”
“But why does a healthy man lose consciousness and faint?”
With the king having the same reaction as Vincent, the wizard sighed and gathered light at the tips of his hands again.
“It’s the same even after I’ve checked a few times. His Highness is merely sleeping.”
“Ah, that’s fortunate. That’s fortunate.”
The reassured king repeatedly said that it was fortunate.
“His Highness has fallen!?”
Then the old marquis entered, closing the door.
“What the hell is this about!”
One moment later, the Prime Minister opened the door and appeared.
“Brother! Brother!”
After hearing the news, the second prince had also come running, pale with terror.
“His Highness is fine.”
The wizard was still forced to prove the prince’s haleness to every visitor, so much so that his throat dried up and the energy within his body became exhausted.
***
“What the hell happened to my son, that he became so exhausted from his heart, reaching the point of fainting?”
In response to the king’s question, Carls stepped forward. He then, in detail, explained the lighting of the fire and the prince’s burning of the statues which he had made over the past month.
“In his Highness’s eyes, it looked as if he was attending a funeral for a family member.”
The king closed his eyes as he heard Carls say that the prince had said goodbye to someone. Then, after a while, the king opened his eyes and began speaking for some length.
“That boy is indeed ignorant. I don’t even know what’s in him, or how to get rid of the tangled skeins of his being. That a man who is knowledgeable about swords and war can be so ignorant and blind about himself…”
The king’s face became filled with guilt.
“This is because, when he was a child, when he needed warmth, he was so isolated that he missed the opportunity to learn about people. He didn’t know people, and he didn’t know about himself either.”
The king continued to say that everything was his fault.
“Such a boy has wandered battlefields for seven years now. How many deaths has he seen so far, and how many deaths plague his memory? To know that my son, who has not learned how to loosen the knots in his heart, has faced so many countless deaths… Even my own insides would be rotted and rubbed raw at such sights. If only I had known… he wouldn’t have to cry out, feverish, groaning in his nightmares of those who’ve died.”
Hearing the king’s words, all the knights except Adelia stretched their eyes wide.
“What is that?” Vincent asked.
“You didn’t know? No matter how much you two are friends, you could only know after sleeping in the same room as my son. It’s natural that you don’t know.”
The king went on to tell them what he had seen on the night the queen had died, when the Crown Prince had been beset by fever.
“Oh, Sir Adelia- Are his Majesty’s words true?” Vincent asked, which made Adelia burst into tears once more.
“Yes… In fact, His Highness …”
It was through her words that the knights came to know the truth. What kind of nightmares have the Crown Prince been suffering from, they wondered?
“Well… After the queen went so bravely, it got worse. And later, there was no night when his Highness was not sick and groaning.”
The knights closed their eyes tightly.
Updated from lightnovelworld.com
“Because my son couldn’t even mourn and process everything properly, he got sick. When he was sick, he grunted and groaned all night without even knowing about it. When he woke up, he again grabbed his sword even if his stomach was so raw and rotten with grief.”
Even while the other knights despaired after hearing of the prince’s situation, being sick all alone, the king spoke on.
“My son has seen all those who have departed, now. Since he has been distant and cut off for seven years straight, how can he not feel it? But since he has forcibly removed such accumulated feelings and burned them on the fire… Will his suffering be less?” the king wondered, affirming that it was not chunks of wood that the Crown Prince had carved over the past month, but a part of his own heart—and that which he had burned today was surely that sliver of his heart, not statuettes.
“No wonder he said goodbye with a bright smile. It could have been no different—he couldn’t even shed tears because he never learned to cry.”
The king stopped talking. Then he suddenly bowed his head to the knights.
“Hwa- Your Majesty?”
“Why does your Majesty lower your head!”
The knights exclaimed their surprise with great terror. The king did not raise his head, however. He just stated, “You will lead the effort. Help me so that my son can fill the void in his heart, which he has cut open, pulled out, and emptied.”
The remorseful father said he could only watch and that they were the only ones who could soothe the prince’s empty heart. One by one, the king made eye contact with the knights.
“It is not just my sword that I have dedicated to his Highness, so I will do this with all my heart.”
“Is there any man that would pretend not to know the brother who shares his blood? Need I say more?”
“There is no right for us to lead from the front, but with bright eyes and strong legs, we will guard and follow from behind.”
Meeting the king’s gaze, Arwen, Vincent, and Carls each responded respectively with a strong, friendly, or determined expression. Adelia said nothing, clutching the prince’s hand tightly as she shed tears. But even if she didn’t answer, her resolve was as clear as day, and everyone knew of her faithfulness in keeping close to the prince. The king now looked at his son with a more comfortable face.
“Please have a good dream.”
**
I was dreaming. In my dream, I was a little boy. There was nothing special about me, and even though I was of royal birth, my qualities could be seen in any child. But unfortunately, this child was a person who should not be ordinary. The world compelled me to be bold and extraordinary, and people have always demanded more than I was able to be.
This child tried, but the fruit people wanted him to pluck were always high, out of his reach.
Still, he tried. And the effort shrunk him.
“This country, founded by our ancestors through blood and sweat, is on the verge of becoming a windy wasteland. You have to keep your mind sharp and make greater efforts.”
The only things that came from my father’s mouth, when I needed warmth, were words of rebuke and not of comfort.
“Ian, I’m sorry, but mommy is busy now. Let’s talk again later.”
My mother, who was always the only element that could appease my loneliness, always pledged that we would talk at another time. There was no place for this child to find rest anywhere in the vast world; there was no single person to take care of him among multitudes of people.
Then some things happened.
“Yes! What are you doing?!”
His father’s anger was like an inferno. This child, not knowing what was going on, was simply terrified as he waited for his father’s wroth to abate. However, even after some time passed, his father remained angered.
“You don’t deserve to lead this country!”
In the face of anger that increased with every passing day, the child one day walked, then ran to the edge of a cliff.
“Ian!”
His mother came then and reached out her hand, but the already terrified child ran away, not for a second thinking of grasping her hand. At the end of his flight, the place he stopped at was covered in shade.
“Your Highness… You’re a man who’s got it hard, but for you, the world will become a flower garden. All the troubles and ills of the word will disappear, far away.”
The child’s mind was so crowded with tormenting thoughts that he could not resist these cunning whispers.
And so, he placed his hand on a substance he shouldn’t have touched. He got through that day with a hazy spirit, made drunk by the strange gift.
“It’s not your Highness’s fault… What is wrong is the world.”
He endured every day, comforted by the wicked whispers he heard in the midst of his confused dreams. Meanwhile, more contempt and ridicule than ever before began to fill the child’s world. It was then that a man who others called a foreigner, his uncle, came to him, a man whose face he could not even remember.
“This boy can never be a king of men.”
Seeing the child scatterbrained, drunk on something, this man left the palace in fiery anger. After he left, dozens of heads were mounted on stakes on the plain outside the capital. These were the severed heads of the gang who had provided the child with his only succor.
“Well, that’s it. Count Balahard has announced that those who ever again offer something to obscure his Highness’s spirit will have their limbs severed and their eyes dug out by crows,” the boy heard the king declare.
He began wandering through the alleys in search of a new group of suppliers but couldn’t get what he wanted. All that came to his hands was a strange poison. This poison the child sent north, guided by his hatred. Over time, the confusion that had dominated his mind faded away. And in front of the reality he faced, the boy was sorrowful.
Hatred, contempt; contempt, anger—what could a child do in the face of such suffocating evil?
“Do you dare look at me with your eyes!”
He simply yelled, swinging his hands and feet while treating everyone with an evil spirit. Like a wounded beast, he roared while concealing his weakness and turning away from his fears. But he already knew: the truth was that he was very wrong. Yet the shouts that he had begun shouting in horror hardened into a habit; he became depraved and violent. His spasms and screams that hid his weakness and fear morphed into violence done against the weak.
By the time the boy realized this, he was, unfortunately, too far gone.
He couldn’t go back; he could not return.
“Don’t you want to set everything back to normal?”
For more, visit lightnovelworld.com
It was then that the Empire’s ambassador came to him with slick words.
“Get the Dragon Slayer.”
Ian could not ignore the possibility of everything returning to as it was if only he obtained the founding king’s sword. And finally, he got his hands on the royal sword. Now he could get everything back; he could correct his past mistakes!
The child believed this, and he died believing it. And after his demise, he wandered through the endless void, ultimately consumed by darkness. All that remained of him were his memories imprinted within my mind, the thoughts of his life before he had forgotten his very existence.
b I didn’t mean to… I never wanted to live like this}
Thoughts of regret and despair.
b I want to live- But I don’t want to live}
Remorse and fear.
b You are better than me}
Envy and admiration.
b I’d rather be you}
Jealousy.
b Rather, if I were you…}
Craving.
b If I can’t…}
Determination
b Through you I can-}
Hope.
b I will exist in the world}
Expectation.
{I request…}
Desperation.
{Adrian Leonberger-}
These were the thoughts that overflowed within my mind.
{Live well}
And finally, they returned to nothingness. Another person’s thoughts arose in their place.
b Past and present—I chose one of them when the vague boundary came to an end}
It was a greeting left for me at the last minute by the mage who had given me her source of life.
b The long and deep dreams are finally over}
b There are still things that are lacking, things that need to be learned… things that need to be recovered, but you will do well}
I was so glad to hear the voice I had so missed, filled with the same love and concern as when she had been alive.
b It could become confusing}
I was hoping her words would last for a long time.
b But ease your thoughts}
b You were merely born again}
But, ferociously, Ophelia’s thoughts quickly faded.
b Happy birthday to you, Ian}
Then, when I finally stopped hearing her voice-
‘Fshwa!’
I woke up from my dreams.
‘Bka! Bka!’
I felt an ear-splitting sound, and at that moment-
‘Pwoo!’
Light burst from my body—from my left chest, where my heart was.
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