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Chapter 2
“Denied.”
At the sentry’s answer, the brown-haired knight let out a frustrated sigh.
“Haaah… Understood. Then how long must we wait?”
“I cannot say. The only message we received is that the gates will open tomorrow afternoon. We… we’ve already sent word inside the inner fortress, so please, just wait.”
Even faced with the Dark Knights’ menacing presence lined up behind, the guard replied calmly. The brown-haired knight, whose appearance was far more tidy than the rest, tried once more politely.
“As you can see, the sun is scorching. Could we at least stand within the shadow of the wall?”
“…That is also forbidden.”
Hearing the same response again, the knight gave up with resignation and turned back. He conveyed the matter to Kyleian Herais, who stood mounted at the center of the knights.
Soon, Kyleian’s black stallion clopped forward until it was right before the guard. The moment his shadow, cast by the sun at his back, fell over the man—
“Piiiihhh!”
A sharp cry rang out as a harpy eagle descended with a gust of violent wind. The guard, terrified, pressed himself flat against the fortress wall.
“A… an eagle?!”
Kyleian brushed aside his black cloak, his face devoid of expression, and lifted his gaze to the sky.
“Seek.”
At the low call, he stretched his arm high. The harpy eagle beat its wings and landed precisely upon the black-steel arm plate forged for such a purpose.
Swoooosh—
Its wide gray wings spread, cloaking Kyleian’s entire figure. It looked as though wings had sprouted from his own shoulders, flawless and overwhelming.
The hot summer wind swept past, rustling his black hair. Beneath the sharp bridge of his nose, his lips curved slightly as a low voice flowed out.
“The gatekeeper’s resolve is admirable.”
The guard, who had been gaping unconsciously, swallowed dryly and darted his eyes about.
‘Yes… even before such absolute duty, surely there must be some mercy.’
Their throats must be parched, just as his own burned in the heat.
“V-very well then. At the very least, we will provide water to the knights and their horses!”
With a frightened face, the guard scurried back inside the gate.
“…Truly not pleasant.”
Sweeping back his disheveled hair, Kyleian narrowed his eyes at the spot where the guard had vanished. For a moment, the memory of a boy who used to loiter before the gates every summer surfaced.
‘Was waiting always this arduous a thing?’
Beneath the wide stone archway lay a cool shade. He almost expected the small shadow of that child to peek cautiously from behind one of the pillars.
‘You must have always been that way.’
A faint smile slowly formed at the corner of his lips, and in those usually cold, black eyes flickered a rare warmth.
“Yes… just this once, I too… shall wait for you.”
“You’ve been kept waiting.”
Run descended the long staircase of the main keep, adjusting the cuff buttons at his wrist.
“Not at all. We have only just finished our preparations.”
Behind Humphrey, three waiting knights bowed their heads. Nodding briefly, Run passed them and walked up to his horse, loosening the reins.
“It’s been a while since I last saw you in full dress uniform.”
Feeling oddly awkward under Humphrey’s pleased expression, Run mounted his horse at once.
“First time since my knighting ceremony.”
He rarely had cause to wear formal uniform, since he hardly appeared in public affairs. Judging by how tight his trousers felt—as if they weren’t his own—he must have grown a little taller in the meantime.
‘Has it really been a year since I last left the inner keep?’
The marquis, strict in his knightly code, made no exceptions even for his son. In fact, he had been harsher with Run about one rule above all.
“Do not leave the marquisate.”
A year ago, after that cursed fever, the restriction had grown even harsher. Once he had barely recovered enough to leave his bed, his movements had been confined entirely within the inner castle.
‘If he finds out I’ve gone beyond the walls, he’ll be furious for certain.’
Even though the excuse was to greet a guest, given all that had happened, Run knew he would hardly hear kind words.
When they reached the gate, the gatekeeper’s eyes widened. It had been ages since he had seen the young master leave the castle.
“What are you staring at? Open the gate at once.”
Snapping from his daze, the gatekeeper scrambled to obey Humphrey’s order. With a heavy groan, the massive gates began to open.
The gray walls encircling the inner keep towered high, nearly reaching the sky. Clicking his tongue, Run tilted his head back and muttered.
“Still so needlessly tall.”
“The lord values the safety of the domain above all else.”
In the northwest of the Leonal Empire, the Este marquisate bordered the northern “Black Forest,” where monsters dwelled. The marquis had devoted everything to fortifying the domain, and his loyal knights treated it as their sacred duty.
Unlike the Light Knights, whose fame was great, few volunteered for such a remote post. Frequent battles with monsters and the marquis’s personal involvement in knight appointments made entry conditions harsh.
As a result, the Light Knights were both highly skilled and deeply proud of their house.
With chest puffed, Humphrey clapped his shoulder and boomed,
“Is this towering wall, higher even than the imperial palace itself, not the very fruit of our lord’s labor?”
Run glanced at the man’s broad shoulders, clicking his tongue inwardly.
‘Higher than the imperial palace? That’s what even the smallest children brag about here.’
Never having seen the capital with his own eyes, he had no way to know if it was true.
“You always exaggerate, don’t you think?”
At his dry tone, Humphrey widened his eyes and protested earnestly.
“Exaggeration? Not a single lie in it!”
“Well, your pride does seem as tall as these walls.”
Humphrey burst into hearty laughter at the jest.
“Hahaha! My pride is higher than these walls, surely. If I may say so, my greatest pride is you, young master!”
Despite himself, Run let out a small laugh at the man’s shamelessness. During sparring, that same Humphrey never showed him mercy.
Shooting him a side-eye, Run said to the knights,
“Very well then. If so, my pride shall be all of you.”
The unexpected words left Humphrey and the knights blinking wide-eyed.
Thud— The gates opened fully with a final heavy sound.
“At this rate, we’ll be late. Let’s hurry.”
Smiling faintly, Run urged his horse forward, the knights following close behind. Leaving the wall’s shadow, they began to pick up speed.
‘Ha… the young master has grown sly.’
After his recovery, he had been weak for some time. Thankfully, ever since he had taken up the sword again, he seemed to be regaining his old self.
‘If he meets that one again, he will surely find comfort.’
Riding closer, Humphrey cleared his throat.
“It is fortunate that Lord Kyleian has at last obtained the antidote. It has been nearly a year since Duke Carlo fell ill.”
Marshal Carlo Herais, supreme commander of the empire’s army.
The illness of the great duke was the very reason his heir had set out for the desert.
Last summer, poisoned by a monster, Duke Carlo had been bedridden ever since. The venom spreading through his veins gradually stiffened his body, and though the seasons changed, his condition never improved.
That winter, Kyleian Herais had no choice but to depart for the western desert kingdom of Remoa to obtain an antidote.
“They say Remoa’s expertise in medicine is true after all.”
“The desert is full of venomous creatures like scorpions.”
Yet clearly, obtaining the cure had been no easy feat. Even after his departure, half a year more had passed.
To leave for the desert in winter and only return as summer arrived—
“…It must have been a long, grueling ordeal.”
“Indeed. Even Lord Kyleian must be weary. Young master, you too will be seeing him after quite some time.”
“Well… if you call it a long time.”
Run dodged the awkward phrasing with a vague answer. He had thought someday they would meet again—but never expected it would be today.
“Still, it’s unusual that the lord allowed his visit, and even more so that Lord Kyleian himself sent the letter first.”
“Geographically, it was inevitable. The Herais duchy lies at the empire’s far east.”
Between the Leonal Empire and the desert kingdom of Remoa stretched a great river flowing south to the sea. Crossing desert and river, his path back through the empire was long indeed.
Passing through Este in the northwest, where the river narrowed, was the most efficient route—Kyleian surely knew this.
“But wasn’t it so, that when he left for the desert, our lord denied him entry?”
Choosing his words carefully, Humphrey spoke with bitterness.
“At that time, the lord’s obsession with cleanliness was… extreme.”
“…Yes. Even His Majesty the Emperor could not compel Father.”
That winter, the Marquis Este had closed every gate and barred all visitors, like a man possessed by paranoia. Not even Kyleian was exempt.
Run had been too ill with fever then to know the details. He had only heard later that Kyleian had been refused entry even as snowstorms raged.
“In any case, it’s they who need us. Knowing how rarely these gates open, he won’t press the matter lightly.”
“I can only hope so.”
Humphrey sighed, still uneasy. He worried that the marquis might estrange not only the imperial family but even the powerful House Herais.
“At least now, with monsters rampant, he does answer the imperial summons. Perhaps that much is a blessing.”
“With the state of the realm, even Father could not ignore His Majesty forever.”
Recalling the marquis’s cold gaze upon him, Run’s expression hardened.
Time seemed to have softened even that stubbornness. If so, how much longer must pass before his own situation would gain him some measure of freedom?
With heavy thoughts, Run guided his horse—until the sight of a foreign fortress came into view.
“That over there…”
