What Happens When The Second Male Lead Powers Up [EN]: Chapter 626

#626

Liberation (5)

-Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle…

“……”

“Your Grace! You must move quickly…!”

‘콰콰콰쾅…!’ Amidst the rapidly collapsing space, Cedric Liester gazed silently up at the void.

His blurred vision spread wildly, but his gaze remained fixed on one spot, unmoving.

The Guide’s form scattered like a slender thread, and his long, dark hair dissolved into streaks of light purple wind.

Perhaps he even met his eyes with that final trace.

Then, until the moment he breathed his last breath, he remembered the face that smiled at him.

Like an anchor rising to the surface, creating bubbles.

Father.

‘……Seidi. None of this is your fault.’

He would occasionally say such things to his son.

Even though the boy never outwardly showed how difficult things were.

Even on days when he secretly wiped away tears, or on nights when he couldn’t sleep, stifling his resentment.

Alexandre would suddenly appear to his young son and be with him, shining like his mysterious nine magic formulas.

The man held his precious child in his arms and whispered gently.

‘It’s not your fault. So don’t blame yourself.’

-Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle…

“……”

-Kugugugung!

“Your Grace! Cedric!”

Small, light purple fragments were disappearing somewhere, carried by the Ark’s divine power.

This seemed more like absorption than dissipation.

It vaguely resembled finely broken gold dust, and also looked like traces of the golden clam shells that decorated the interior walls of the Liester Imperial Palace.

But the answer was none of those.

Cedric swore on the sacred moon of the main god that he had seen it before.

‘I’m okay. I’m sorry to you.’

‘Your Majesty, I will call the royal physician immediately! Just a moment!’

Fragments of the past, which he thought he had lost forever, were gathering one by one, cutting through the darkness in his mind.

Sewing together the blood-red canvas that had been torn to shreds, and summoning the sounds that had been scattered faintly.

Rebuilding the background that had been erased in black, and engraving the next scene that had been blown away in white.

‘-Zhiiiiiing!’

The scenery of that day and the hidden stories are drawn in one stroke without hesitation.

That’s how memories are restored.

‘-Swaaaaa…!’

The nine magic formulas, layered like flower petals, swallowed their master’s blood on the cold stone floor and glowed for the last time.

It was a desperate and heartbreaking final struggle.

Also, the eleven-year-old prince had never seen such a complex and fierce induction formula in any magic book.

Young Cedric frantically groped his father’s body with unfocused eyes.

But there was too much blood. From his father’s nose, ears, and even the gaps in his lips… bright red blood was pouring out.

It was a disaster that the child’s small hands could never stop.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you like this… My good son, ugh.’

‘Ah… Father. Father… Please open your eyes…’

With a weak groan, Alexandre Liester lost consciousness.

The red magic formula disappeared as if it were a lie, and the blue eyes disappeared as they were, unable to capture the child.

Cedric touched his eyelids and cheeks with his blood-red hands.

Immature fingerprints and desperate tears soaked his father’s face.

Each time a hot breath burst out, his small back heaved greatly. No thoughts or commands formed in his throbbing head.

He was scared. But the child had to act.

‘Is anyone there! David! Benjamin!’

‘Good heavens, Your Highness!’

‘Quickly! Please! Help me—!’

At the boy’s desperate cry, shouting at the top of his lungs, the servant who had been waiting at a distance rushed over.

David Capuson had already turned pale from the moment he discovered the two figures.

The man couldn’t form a single sentence properly as he looked at his superior covered in blood.

He supported the archmage’s limp body with trembling arms, and each time his head or legs bent, he felt as if his own body was breaking.

Finally, he carried him on his back and ran down the hill, not even noticing that his shoes were coming off.

Cedric lost his magic wand forever that day.

And he never found it again.

‘흑, 으윽, 흑······!’

‘Please hold on a little longer, Prince Consort! We will take you to the detached palace immediately!’

The place where Alexandre deployed the magic formula was inside the white bell tower on the northern edge of Yvelin.

‘Kiyaaaaaak…!’ Each time the divine object hanging at the top flapped its wings in pain, a scream-like 풍성(風聲) [pungseong – the sound of wind or a gust] tore through the air.

The light purple flash flickered like a lighthouse pointing to death.

Because it was a tower where precious treasures were kept, not only the Imperial Guards but also the servants who assisted the Imperial Family could not approach without permission.

The prince, covered in tears and blood, chased after David. Other servants who spotted their bloodied colleague turned pale and ran to the summer palace.

It was Benjamin Girardin, a servant of the Charpentier Palace who served the Prince Consort.

‘Your Highness! Prince Aurelie! Natalie, call Her Highness quickly!’

‘Oh, God! Lady Laura—!’

‘Open the gates wide! Quickly!’

The night of the serene and beautiful detached palace. Tragedy struck without warning.

Laura Mendy, the Emperor’s chief of staff, endured by scratching her arm to avoid fainting.

The royal physician and healing priests who had traveled north with the Emperor spent hours by the Prince Consort’s side, trying to save him.

With a heart breaking and a body pouring sweat instead of tears, they struggled and fought to protect the empire’s beloved son-in-law.

But Cedric could tell.

Even with a head that was hazy and cloudy like it was filled with smog… he could clearly tell.

‘-Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle…’

The realization that he would never see his father again washed over him.

‘Your Highness, please return to your room for now. I will assist you with your bath,’ David whispered, his voice hoarse with pain. But the boy stared blankly past him, down the hallway.

He could see shimmering fragments, like broken glass, flowing from his father’s room.

But he seemed to be the only one who could perceive them.

Neither the servants carrying blood-stained towels and trays, nor the one who embraced his shoulders and knelt beside him, noticed anything amiss.

– Thud!

The child understood what was happening with chilling clarity.

The door opened, and the aged royal physician and healing priests hurried out, their faces grim.

‘…What has happened?’ Frederick asked, his face ashen.

The physician prostrated himself at the Emperor’s feet, bursting into tears.

‘Your Majesty, please, take my life… His Highness the Prince Consort will not survive past dawn.’

‘…’

‘Your Highness’s vessel [a metaphor for the body or life force] has been shattered, Your Majesty.’

The Emperor’s red eyes darted around like broken doll parts.

The priest squeezed his trembling hands together, as if trying to contain his own breaking heart, and continued, ‘With the medicine and healing arts of this era, we cannot even fathom the extent of the damage he has sustained. Even if we could forcibly repair his internal injuries, the loss of his soul is irreversible. In the end…’

‘…In the end, he will leave us,’ Frederick murmured. At that moment, the prince understood.

Those shimmering fragments flowing before his eyes like the Milky Way were pieces of his father, scattered and lost.

The child reached out his hand towards the empty air, his expression vacant.

David’s gaze followed his.

– Swish…

But his hand grasped nothing. It was only natural.

Cedric felt himself teetering on the brink of madness.

His mother’s voice, as if muffled by a swamp, echoed in his mind. ‘…A way.’

‘…’

‘…You must find a way to alleviate the Prince Consort’s suffering.’

Then the priest prostrated himself before her, his thin shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

‘With all our hearts… We will assist the noble one on his final journey.’

…That was the true story behind the empty page.

– Sparkle, sparkle, sparkle…

The subsequent memories were filled with the Grand Duchess’s tears of blood and her curses.

Terrified priests wept and forcibly dragged her from the room, leaving the Emperor to endure alone, holding his other consort in his arms.

She possessed all the authority of the empire, yet she was denied the freedom to grieve.

– Whoosh…

‘The fragments of Father’s vessel…’

– Thump…!

You were holding them. The Crown Prince moved his lips silently.

He knew that all life on the continent returned to the embrace of the Chief God upon death.

She gathered weary souls and placed them in her pale garden, caring for them eternally.

So that the dead would no longer suffer hardship or pain, so that they would forget their sorrows and be happy forever.

The Crown Prince hated the Chief God, yet he had long desired her mercy. It was a miserable paradox.

– Whoosh…!

‘Cedric! Please come to your senses! We have to go back!’

But his father’s soul was scattered beyond the world.

Unable to bear the gaze of the Chief God, it shattered, finally escaping her grasp and becoming truly free.

How many of those fragments did this ark hide from the eyes of God?

How much of his father’s essence, which he had sealed himself and preserved even in sleep, was now dissolving here?

Cedric was lost in endless thought. His vision blurred, and his exhausted body began to fail him.

Then what about himself…

– Slap!

‘Hey! Stop crying and look at me!’

Stunned, he blinked, feeling a stinging sensation.

His head hung low.

Piercing, watery blue eyes glared fiercely at him.

In that gaze, his scattered vision instantly focused into a clear point.

The two cheeks, unexpectedly struck, cooled down, clinging to the thread of reason.

‘You rascal!’

It was ‘Ham Gyeo-ul’.

‘You can’t just sit here and cry! You can go out and cry later. You can cry whenever you want! So move now!’

‘…’

She waved her pink hair and shouted at the top of her lungs.

‘Your father is watching! So you have to show him that you’ve grown up strong and resilient. Am I right or wrong!’

– Crackle―!

The floor cracked, the darkness spreading, and the curtain forming the ceiling began to flow down like melted ice.

Cedric grabbed Gyeo-ul’s wrist and looked around.

His father’s desk, chairs, and fairy tale books had already vanished. Instead, in their place…

‘Cedric! Take my hand!’

Princess Juliette, supporting Johann Haynes, reached out to him, her eyes red-rimmed.

The Crown Prince instinctively grasped her hand.

The soul fragments of the Archmage had already drifted far away, beyond sight.

– Thud!

At the same time, the ground beneath the Princess’s feet cracked open like paper.

‘Kuuk!’

‘Aaaagh!’

‘Ugh! We’re falling―!’