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Chapter : 50
Executor of the Covenant
Charlophe withdrew his hand.
A chilling aura seeped through the air.
It burrowed into the skin and lodged itself deep in the bones.
The creature let out a shrieking, tearing scream.
That wail—howling as it split its maw wide—was the last of it.
“Get lost.”
Benjamin cut off the creature’s breath. The ripping scream ceased, and the plucked feathers were scorched black, piling up like ash.
“Who was it?”
He swept the interior like a vengeful specter.
“Who conducted the internal search?”
The intelligence officer replied that it couldn’t be so.
“The search teams completed cross-checks throughout! There was absolutely nothing missed, Your Majesty!”
“Resume the internal search immediately. Do not allow anything impure to set foot here. And until the situation is fully resolved, this place is to be completely sealed.”
Charlophe was lowering his arm when—
A sharp, reproachful gaze poured down on him. It seemed to scold him: You, again.
That gaze pierced his skin painfully, and an arm reached out. Fingertips lightly brushed his wrist.
“Give me that hand first. You don’t even realize you’re hurting yourself. Couldn’t you be a bit more careful?”
“Ah…”
“Skin touched by toxic energy recovers more slowly. If it isn’t treated in time, it takes longer for new flesh to grow.”
He burned away the poison with sword energy.
Seasoned knights could burn away poison with sword energy, and those who had reached a higher realm could even interfere with and purge another person’s poison.
“There won’t be disinfectant here.”
“Even if there were, it’d be risky to touch anything in this estate carelessly.”
“Oh, if it’s disinfectant from this estate, forget it. Everything here is going to be disposed of.”
Charlophe tied a handkerchief around his wrist and knotted it.
“Let’s leave.”
The knot soon loosened. As the cloth slackened, thick fingers slid up along his wrist. Tap, tap—he gently smoothed the fabric with a courteous gesture.
“This won’t stop the bleeding.”
As Benjamin retied the knot properly, word arrived from outside.
“Your Majesty, we will escort you out.”
Afterward, his hand was treated.
“Please don’t come back injured.”
Aaron whispered softly.
“When Your Majesty is hurt, there are many at your side who worry.”
“I suppose so.”
“I’m glad the initial treatment was done properly.”
Aaron treated his arm with disinfectant.
“All finished, Your Majesty.”
As Aaron set the supplies down and stepped back, Benjamin approached.
“Will the scar be all right?”
“Fortunately, it doesn’t look like there will be a scar.”
After that, Aaron handed him more medicine. A bitter liquid—suspiciously like crushed weeds—rose up his throat.
“Swallow this medicine as well.”
“…Is this really safe to drink?”
“Things that are good for the body are bitter by nature. I boiled medicinal herbs that are good for lacerations. It’s also like a tonic well-suited to Your Majesty, so just drink it all.”
He added that it was good for skin recovery, making one wonder what exactly had been mixed in.
“These herbs were all sent by the Windsor family. They’ve been sending me various ingredients for a long time, asking me to make sure you at least took tonics. If you were to leave these untouched, they’d be quite sad.”
His tone grew increasingly like one used for a child, though they hadn’t realized it yet.
“I suppose I shouldn’t get hurt.”
That was the only lesson learned.
For several days, the throbbing continued.
Aside from a slight redness on his pale skin, there were no marks. The torn flesh healed naturally, and new skin grew in, soft and smooth.
“My skin feels hot underneath.”
It was the third day.
Everything had healed, yet the skin was still warm.
“It’s because of the burn from the toxic energy.”
Benjamin spoke as he set his glasses aside.
“It’ll throb a bit longer.”
“Ah… It does throb when heat touches it.”
“How about the wound?”
“That’s healed.”
“If heat flares up again, cool it with ice.”
Benjamin traced his skin with his index finger and whispered.
“Torn flesh grows back denser.”
“Ah…”
“It makes the body tougher. Just like muscles heal stronger after being torn, skin is the same. Those scars pile up, turn into calluses, and form a knight’s body.”
Knights’ bodies were torn and healed dozens of times in fierce battles. Through that process, calluses embedded themselves into the skin, and as they hardened, the body took firm shape.
“You don’t need to go through that.”
“So you’re telling me to keep my distance.”
Benjamin warned him quietly.
“Toxic energy melts the skin. And divine power melts that poison. Both are destructive by nature, and that process often causes burns.”
Thanks to cooling the heat with ice, the burn was fine.
“They told you to be careful for a few days,”
“……”
“And yet you’re still careless.”
Charlophe draped a shawl over his arm.
“When I see you standing like this, I feel uneasy for no reason.”
“You treat me like a child.”
“If you really were a child, I wouldn’t have anything to be uneasy about.”
Charlophe smiled languidly at his words.
“Henrietta is leaving soon.”
“Ah, was today the day her birth mother came to take her?”
“Her mother already arrived, but her recovery was slow, so they’re only leaving today.”
Perhaps due to the severe emotional shock on her young body, Henrietta had suffered a fever.
“She doesn’t remember things clearly.”
“Then forgetting might be better for her as well.”
“…It wasn’t something worth remembering.”
And so Henrietta left. Whether it was right to say she left the imperial palace, he wasn’t sure.
They would remain under imperial protection, staying at an imperial residence.
Benjamin tapped the paper with the tip of his pen. Black ink seeped into the thin page.
“We should keep the possibility of the family head’s approach in mind. It’s something we’ll need to wait and see.”
His gaze drifted outside.
“The intelligence officers dispatched to Poputa.”
Robed figures passed through the entrance of the imperial palace.
They were the intelligence officers sent to Poputa; the imperial family had tracked activities and residency status through them. They had come to report the current situation.
Knock, knock.
A presence stirred outside. An aide knocked on the study door and announced,
“Your Majesty. The intelligence officers dispatched to Poputa have returned.”
Benjamin pushed his chair back and rose.
“Shall we listen together?”
“Poputa involves many classified matters. Is it all right for me to hear?”
“There’s nothing you’re not allowed to hear.”
Benjamin nodded.
“They’ve just returned from completing their assignment.”
The study door opened, and the group of intelligence officers entered.
They wore plain black robes. The uniforms beneath were also dull black without insignia, and the bodies held firm beneath them were evenly built.
“The first subjugation force has just completed its mission. Monsterization has begun within the restricted zone, and the kraken have entered their breeding season, producing offspring and greatly increasing their numbers.”
Charlophe set the shawl down on the sofa. The report continued.
“Additionally, all traces of the perpetrator of the Tutier massacre have been completely cut off.”
The end of this matter had already been reached.
“He is no longer on this land.”
‘I establish order upon this land. The black-blooded clans who have forgotten law and rule shall descend beneath the earth, and this covenant shall become both a curse and a shackle binding them.
The Executor of the Covenant shattered his soul bound by the treaty, and bound across eternal ages, that soul bears witness to the fulfillment of the covenant.’
‘Each bloodline shall watch over the black-blooded clans bound to its land, divided among forest, desert, and sea—this too the Executor shall bear witness to.’
Beneath his feet was darkness.
What was there? What was not? He couldn’t even distinguish that.
Where was he standing now? Was he standing at all?
“Mm…”
The hazy consciousness gradually cleared.
“Why do you keep falling ill?”
The sound scratching his throat was a groan.
The documents in his hand slipped limply to the floor.
Charlophe ruffled his red hair.
“Did you fall asleep again?”
“I told you to sleep when you’re tired, yet you keep doing this.”
Benjamin brushed Charlophe’s eyebrow with the back of his hand.
“Look. Your eyes are unfocused.”
“I’m done.”
“Is that the list of Tutier assets?”
Charlophe closed the files.
“It’s part of the Tutier assets recovered into the national treasury. Anything missing from the list, I separated into another document.”
Benjamin glanced at the set-aside papers and murmured,
“Quite thorough.”
Charlophe scanned the densely written pages.
“It’s just old habits. I was often absent, so whenever gaps formed, they’d trace them like this.”
He reviewed the categorized lists one last time, then closed them.
“The documents are finished.”
Benjamin took them. The bundle was heavy and thick, meticulously subdivided by category.
“You did well.”
Outside, the sun had already set. Candlelight flickered on the side table, and even the yellowish glow felt strained now.
Benjamin tapped the paper with his pen again. Black ink soaked into the thin sheet.
“Your handwriting is so neat.”
“Pardon?”
“When I first met you long ago, your letters were all squiggly, like worms crawling. I kept those letters too—you could probably find them somewhere.”
“You still kept those?”
“They’re traces that connected me to you back then.”
He spoke as if driving a nail in.
“I couldn’t throw them away.”
Charlophe paused, his hand gripping the quill.
“What did we write about?”
“Well. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about.”
“……”
“But I think I waited for those letters.”
The memory of waiting for news of him was vivid.
“You always felt hazy to me, like mist over water—but retracing even those traces felt good.”
As Benjamin wrote numbers onto the documents with the quill, he whispered. The paperwork would be done with just a bit more effort. It felt a shame to stop now—maybe finish a little more, then sleep.
Mid-whisper, he met Charlophe’s eyes.
“What is it?”
Charlophe asked quietly in return.
“…Do you remember what it was like?”
“Hm. Even back then, your handwriting was small. Neat in its own way, but there was quite a bit of weight in the strokes.”
Benjamin drew out his words slowly.
“And you wandered subtly, like someone who’d lost sensation in their fingertips.”
“……”
“It felt like you didn’t know how much pressure to apply—or how much to release. Only after you got used to it did that feeling fade.”
Charlophe placed his other hand over the one holding the quill. For some reason, the muscles in his hand trembled faintly. Benjamin’s keen gaze caught it immediately and fell on his fingertips.
“Are you all right?”
Charlophe smiled as he replied.
“I think I’m just a bit tired now.”
“Hm. It is about time.”
The quill rolled off the side table.
Clack.
The nib snapped, and ink splattered across the floor.
Rolling, the quill came to rest by Charlophe’s feet.
This was how he had always closed the distance.
“Let’s stop here for today.”
Benjamin gathered the closed documents neatly onto the side table. He picked up the quill and set it down as if nothing had happened.
“Let’s sleep now, Charl.”
He hadn’t hidden anything.
He just hadn’t been asked.
For some reason, Charlophe felt he needed to make that excuse to himself.
