The 9Th Class Swordmaster: Blade Of Truth [EN]: Chapter 164

129. Tinuviel (1)

The Imperial Palace, Sun Hall.

“So, how is Cromen?”

“He has been up for several nights… He finally fell asleep last night. The priests of the Order are casting blessings to help stabilize him, but…”

Tairan Shteyan spoke in a low voice.

With each rough breath that echoed in the Sun Hall, the minister kneeling before him swallowed nervously, his face tense.

The elderly man, with his greying hair, looked disheveled, as if he hadn’t slept properly either.

“Up for several nights, you say… Do you think that’s all you need to tell me?”

“I… I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty!”

The minister prostrated himself, bowing deeply until his forehead nearly touched the ground.

“Why is his condition worsening?! What on earth are the court healers doing?!”

The Empress, standing beside him, interjected with a sharp voice.

The Empress’s skin was so firm and radiant that it was hard to believe she was in her forties; she still looked as beautiful as someone in her twenties.

Of course, there was no need to explain the lengths she went to maintain that beauty.

Rumors circulated that she had even dabbled in dark magic, but investigating the Imperial Family was an unthinkable act of sacrilege.

People were simply divided into those who admired the Empress’s eternally youthful appearance and those who feared her relentless pursuit of fleeting time.

“I… I am deeply sorry.”

The minister spoke in a trembling voice, unable to look directly at the Empress.

“Enough. It’s not that I don’t know your skills.”

The man kneeling before the Emperor was the chief court healer, who had long cared for not only his health but also the health of the princes.

Tairan Shteyan, who was particular about people, trusted this old man more than anyone else, having known him for decades.

“How long has it been since the princes returned from the south?”

The Emperor turned his head.

“It has been a little over a week since Prince Cromen entered the palace with Prince Ollivern from the Vestal March. Prince Ruon has not yet returned to the palace.”

A low, deep baritone voice answered from behind the throne. It sounded rough, but the clarity within proved how pure his magic was.

Swish….

The cloak draped over his shoulders fluttered lightly.

“Your Majesty.”

Surprisingly, it was Kwell McGovern, the commander of the Azure Knights, who should have been at the border.

After the deal with Khalil, the Emperor did not fulfill it and sent the princes to the south.

As a result, Ruon clashed with Twin Armor, and the agreement with Khalil not to attack the Istria Triarchy was nullified.

However, something Tairan Shteyan had not foreseen occurred: Ruon suffered a crushing defeat against Twin Armor.

“To think the First Prince is still lingering in Brerado when his brothers have all returned… Tsk.”

After receiving the report of Ruon’s defeat, the Emperor summoned Kwell McGovern back to the Imperial Palace.

The reason given was that Belin Valentian, the commander of all seven Imperial Knights, was finding it difficult to manage the palace due to his old age, and Kwell was appointed as his successor.

“…”

However, Kwell, already aware of the situation with Khalil, knew that the reason he had been recalled to the Imperial Palace after being cast aside was not due to such a ridiculous excuse.

He was a hostage.

‘Why would His Majesty…’

He, who was called the greatest swordsman on the continent, a hostage of his own country to which he had sworn allegiance….

It was a ridiculous situation, but there were many things in the world that could not be solved with a sword.

‘Could it be that he fears Khalil?’

But Kwell shook his head, dismissing his thought as foolish.

It was absurd.

“Hmm…”

“And Ollivern?”

“He is in Prince Cromen’s chambers again today. The Third Prince keeps asking for him… It seems to be because of the time they spent together in the south.”

At Kwell’s words, the Empress let out a soft sigh.

“It’s fortunate that the Second Prince is there. I can only imagine how much that child suffered in the south. It seems the Second Prince took good care of Cromen.”

It sounded like a kind word from a mother, but in reality, there was no way she could like Ollivern, who was not her own blood.

The reason she said that was out of relief, confident that Ollivern would be unable to leave Cromen’s side for the time being.

‘At this rate, Ruon will have another chance.’

The Empress spoke to the Emperor.

She was willing to do anything to ensure that her son, who had fallen out of favor with the Emperor due to his defeat against Twin Armor, could redeem himself.

“Your Majesty, all of this happened because of the Second Prince. If that child hadn’t made mistakes while Your Majesty was away, Cromen wouldn’t be in this state.”

Unlike the First and Third Princes, she never referred to Ollivern by name.

“Everyone makes mistakes in their youth. An emperor needs to make bold decisions.”

“But what is this commotion? Against lowly barbarians…”

“Enough. An emperor is one who gives orders, not one who carries them out. If we are to assign blame, it lies with the Lyeo Knights, who failed to properly execute the Second Prince’s orders.”

Tairan Shteyan spoke in a low voice, resting his chin on his hand.

“From the start, this shouldn’t have been such a big deal. If it were me, I would have wiped out Digon before going to the spring.”

“…”

At his words, the Empress said nothing more. The Emperor, as everyone knew him, was more than capable of doing just that.

“Indeed… Perhaps it was a bit too difficult for children.”

At the Emperor’s words, which seemed to imply that he had expected this, the Empress spoke with slight unease.

“Ruon is still there. As Your Majesty said, everyone makes mistakes once. He still has troops left, doesn’t he?”

“That’s right. As the Empress says, Ruon still has troops left. Whether that child will show the dignity of an Imperial Prince or become the most shameful prince remains to be seen.”

“…”

“However.”

Tairan Shteyan looked at both the Empress and Kwell McGovern.

Ironically, one supported the First Prince, and the other supported the Second Prince.

He spoke as a warning.

“If any harm befalls any of the princes through this matter, I, as their father, will personally hold those responsible to account.”

Why was it that his words did not sound like a father concerned for his children, but rather like someone looking for an opportunity to create a pretext for justifiable murder?

* * *

“Brother…”

A low voice was heard in the dark room, where thick blackout curtains prevented even a single ray of light from entering.

“Father must be disappointed, right? Not only did Lord Gordon leave, but I’m lying here like this as soon as he returns.”

Cromen turned his head.

“You’ve never been outside the Imperial Palace until now. It seems the life in the south didn’t suit you. It’s just a matter of adjusting; you’ll recover soon.”

The youngest prince’s eyes reddened at Ollivern’s warm words.

The Imperial Palace was currently in a somber mood due to the Third Prince’s health deteriorating rapidly upon returning from the south.

“You have so much to do… I feel like I’m holding you back, Brother. Please, go.”

“You’re preparing to subjugate the south, aren’t you, Brother? Don’t worry.”

“But…”

“What’s the point of brothers competing against each other? I don’t want to do that. Just focus on recovering. Do you understand?”

“Brother…”

Ollivern took Cromen’s hand.

“Get well soon. Now, it’s time for your medicine.”

He personally helped Cromen sit up in bed and handed him the medicine placed on the bedside table.

“Drink plenty of water too.”

Cromen swallowed the pills and took the cup Ollivern offered, gulping it down.

“…”

Ollivern nodded slowly after confirming that he had emptied the cup.

“Good job.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Brother.”

Cromen, lying back in bed, said to him sincerely.

“You…”

Looking at him tearfully, Ollivern said with a faint smile.

“Rest easy. I’ll be with you until the end.”

At his words, the small, frail hand he was holding trembled slightly.

At that moment, Ollivern sensed that he would soon be with his brother, lying in bed, until the end, in a different sense from what he had just said.

“Rest well, my brother.”

He squeezed Cromen’s hand even tighter.

Click-

The bedroom door opened, and Ollivern emerged with a tired face.

“Hoo…”

“Thank you, Your Highness. It seems Prince Cromen is finding much peace of mind thanks to you.”

Keplan, who had been waiting in the hallway, spoke to him, standing perfectly still and composed.

“It’s late; haven’t you gone to bed yet? I’m worried about your health because of Cromen.”

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s only natural for me as a brother.”

Ollivern said with a comforting smile to the old butler.

“Please tell me if you need anything. I will prepare it immediately.”

“Really? Then, could you get me some water to wash my hands right away?”

“Yes?”

Standing in the hallway, Ollivern spoke with a smile still on his face.

“I want to wash them right now.”

As if something dirty had touched him, he wiped his hands with a handkerchief, yet still seemed uneasy.

It was the hand that had held Cromen.

* * *

[Nonsense…]

Zarka Hoch’s voice, heard from the Fortress of Souls, lacked strength.

The sword embedded in his waist creaked, making a chilling sound as bones were crushed.

“The Tinuviel family… I seem to recall that was the name of the royal family of the Elven Kingdom in the past. Zarka Hoch, are you related to those who fell?”

Gordon said, looking at the name written at the bottom of the painting.

[Don’t you dare speak that name, you human.]

Zarka growled.

But the mithril sword embedded in his spine only dug deeper each time he spoke, as if torturing him, causing him pain.

“You’re a funny one. It’s already strange that an elf has learned necromancy, but… it makes even less sense that you can’t move with just one mithril sword in you. Where are you trying to sell your lies?”

Gordon recalled that the magic barrier Zarka had erected had not been broken even by his attacks, and he thought that he was up to something.

[You fool… This… Keuk!!!]

But as he was about to say something, Khalil calmly increased the pressure of the mithril sword embedded in him.

The sword that had sprung from the gauntlet separated, and now the blade was driven all the way into Zarka’s spine.

The sword that pierced between the thoracic and lumbar vertebrae shone inside the hazy spirit body that made up his being.

[Keuk… Keokeok…]

Zarka groaned softly, as if in pain.

Gordon Fabian still looked at him as if he didn’t understand, but he had no way of knowing that the power contained within the mithril was actually Lamine’s spirit force, not magic.

[You…]

Although he had become a lich [an undead creature] through necromancy, Zarka’s magic was ultimately the same as that of an elf in life.

His magic, based on spirit force, was helpless before Lamine’s power.

Khalil looked at him and raised a finger to his lips, gesturing for him to be quiet.

[……]

Zarka made a displeased expression, but in the end, he had no choice but to obey Khalil’s command.

This was because, although invisible to others, he could clearly see the figure of Lamine swirling around Khalil as if about to burst into flames.

“The atmosphere is a bit strange.”

“It is.”

The previous situation, where they were fighting to the death due to Khalil’s intrusion, was instantly brought to an end, and silence filled the castle.

“Let’s talk slowly, Zarka. It’s not easy to bridge a gap of 1,000 years all at once. Isn’t that right? What happened to the Elven Kingdom, who attacked Ariel Wood, and even how you, an elf, came to learn necromancy… There are so many things I’m curious about.”

“What’s so important about that? Just tell me where that essence of the Spirit Spring is. I’ll go eat it.”

“Didn’t you just say that it was unsightly to cling to life?”

Gordon’s cheek twitched slightly.

Seeing his expression, Khalil chuckled and approached Zarka. Zarka Hoch trembled, startled without realizing it.

“Stay still.”

But passing by him, Khalil pulled out the mithril sword he had embedded in his spine.

Although he didn’t show it, Zarka’s pale face showed a hint of relief as the pain that had been constricting him disappeared.

[Was what you said earlier true?]

Then he finally brought up the question he had been holding back.

“What?”

[The words that the Elven Kingdom can be rebuilt. Can that be interpreted to mean that there are living elves? No…]

“Are there any descendants of Tinuviel left?”

At Khalil’s words, Zarka Hoch’s neck trembled slightly. He had no body, so he couldn’t swallow dry saliva, but even after 1,000 years, he didn’t seem to have abandoned his habits from life.

Well, he was a man who couldn’t let go of the past, so perhaps that’s why he created the Fortress of Souls and lived on in this way.

“I don’t know.”

[……What? Are you trying to play with me right now?]

At Khalil’s answer, Zarka Hoch’s dark magic began to simmer.

“Have you forgotten that I’m the benefactor who pulled out the sword that was stuck in you?”

[Keuk……!]

But when Khalil grabbed his head and emitted magic, Zarka’s dark magic disappeared without a trace.

“Actually, Masten was the one who put the sword in, though.”

Seeing that, Aidan whispered to Miliana.

“That human would do that and still have some left. He beat me up mercilessly.”

“Hey, he even killed people when we first met, didn’t he? Five of them.”

Aidan spread out all five fingers.

“Wow… That’s no joke.”

“You two over there. Save the compliments for when the person isn’t around.”

“Ahem.”

At Khalil’s words, Aidan and Miliana coughed and looked away.

“I don’t know if the descendants of the elves are still alive. But I know someone who does.”

[Who is it?]

“If I help you with that, will you help me?”

[It depends on your answer.]

“Zarka, I don’t think you understand yet. I’ll give you the answer, but nothing will change for you.”

[Keuk…… Keokeok……!!]

“Because I need your strength. So I’m going to get it by any means possible.”

Khalil’s dark flames engulfed Zarka Hoch’s entire body. He screamed in the searing pain as if being branded with hot iron.

[Fi… Fine. Tell me first! I said I’d give you the answer, didn’t I?]

“Of course.”

Khalil released the hand he was holding.

[Huk…… Huk……]

Zarka Hoch finally exhaled the breath he had been holding back. Khalil looked down at him and said in a calm voice.

“The Platinum Dragon, Nardie Maugg.”

“……!!!”

“……!!!”

When the name of the dragon, who could be said to be the strongest creature on the continent, was spoken, the people listening to Khalil paid attention to him with tense faces.

“He will know if the bloodline of the elves is still alive.”

[Keu… Keukeuk……]

At that moment,

[Nardie Maugg? Yes, that guy might know.]

For some reason, Zarka Hoch sneered with a cold cynicism at Khalil’s words.

“What’s with that reaction?”

[You really don’t know anything. You said you were curious about who made Ariel Wood like this, right? Who do you think it is?]

He said sharply to Khalil.

[It was that Platinum Dragon you just mentioned who did it.]

“…What?”

At that one word, a look of bewilderment appeared for the first time on Khalil’s face, which had been calm.