Gun of Ashes

Chapter 843 63: Sacrifice

Ivar was dressed neatly, his disheveled hair deliberately styled, and the messy stubble on his face trimmed. He looked much cleaner, as if he were about to attend some grand event.

He sat in a chair, this time without any iron chains binding him, yet Ivar still appeared despondent. Surrounding him were guards, and standing by the window as the setting sun fell was Cornel.

Corey was in charge of the negotiation, with Cornel overseeing Ivar, separated by a long and distant hallway.

"You're about to be free, Ivar."

Cornel said to Ivar, the man constantly trying to hide himself in the shadow, making it difficult for Cornel, standing by the window, to see him clearly.

"Free?"

Perhaps because he hadn't spoken for too long, Ivar's voice was somewhat stiff.

He looked up, his gaze directed outside the window next to Cornel, where in the afterglow of the sunset, seabirds could be vaguely seen soaring. Below, music played in the theater and wafted through the thick stone walls into the room, the songs slow and serene under the warm sunset, adding a few more traces of calmness.

"Yes, freedom. You will no longer be confined by anyone, free to do whatever you want."

Cornel continued.

In fact, he shouldn't have said so much to Ivar, but perhaps it was some unspoken commonality prompting him, Cornel wanted to chat with Ivar... anything, just like small talk.

Cornel rarely encountered someone he considered "equal" to him. He was the heir to the Royal Family of Garel, while Ivar, standing in the shadows, was a descendant of the Rodbrock Clan. Both carried the blood of kings.

"Do you think that's freedom? Leaving Gaulunaro, I'll be bound by something else... no one is truly free."

Ivar's voice was somewhat melancholic.

"At least it's better than now."

Cornel couldn't understand Ivar's sadness; he just felt that opportunities were scarce, and after today, he might never see Ivar again.

"They should have already negotiated, Corey and that fellow named Hebdo."

Cornel glanced at the time; soon he should be escorting Ivar away with the guards.

"Hebdo?"

Ivar pronounced this familiar name, for some reason, a slight smile emerged on his face.

"However, there's something I really want to know, Ivar. Before, with Corey always around, it wasn't feasible to ask, but now seems a good time."

Cornel glanced outside the window, a large crowd of believers had gathered in the theater square, just as Corey had said, the wheel of history had already begun to turn, and no one could stop it.

He was well aware of this, which is why he just glanced at it before walking over to Ivar.

"What do you want to ask?"

Ivar looked up, and the moment their eyes met, Cornel involuntarily averted his gaze.

Even though the person in front of him was physically deformed, a bargaining chip at the negotiating table, apart from his royal lineage, Ivar had no value. Cornel should not fear someone like that, yet for that moment, it was as if something had slashed his vision.

Cornel regarded Ivar with caution, beneath that weak exterior seemed to hide something violent.

"What were you thinking, doing such a thing for a woman?"

Cornel was very curious.

"You are a king's descendant, just like me, and if you wish, many things are within reach... but why did you do something so foolish? I really want to know."

This was the most inexplicable part for Cornel. It could be said that the origin of all this was Erin's actions; she successfully deceived Ivar.

"Frankly, I don't believe you were gullible enough to fall for that woman's words. In other words, you knew the outcome yet followed her still, did you?"

So strange, truly strange, Cornel couldn't make sense of the rationale behind these events when he learned everything went so smoothly.

He sensed a hint of conspiracy, very faint, yet unsettling.

Cornel had also suggested these thoughts to Corey, yet perhaps Ivar's disguise was too perfect; his despondent demeanor deceived everyone, his genuine darkness overshadowing him, even cunning Corey had to believe it.

Cornel realized that an invisible shadow had enveloped him and all of Gaulunaro.

Was it really the Iron Law Bureau that lured Ivar? Or did he come willingly?

Cornel was unsure.

"The reason?"

To this Ivar revealed a rare smile, unsure if it was self-mockery or the recollection of that brief yet beautiful time. The smile seemed so out of place on his face.

"Yes, I genuinely followed Erin. I knew she was deceiving me, and I knew her intentions, I was aware of everything..."

Ivar spoke, seeming troubled, as if he didn't know how to explain it to Cornel, several times attempting to speak, yet in the end, he held back.

"And then?"

Cornel kept questioning, but Ivar still didn't reveal his reasons.

He wasn't afraid of Ivar; this place was filled with the guards of the Choir, and Ivar was just a natural deformity. Cornel didn't feel that Ivar posed much threat to him.

"Then... it's hard for me to explain this to someone like you," Ivar said.

"Someone like me?"

"Yes, someone like you, someone who bathes in the sunlight."

Ivar maintained a jarring smile on his face, as if he genuinely wanted to smile at Cornel, but seemed unfamiliar with the expression, making his smile appear very fake.

"I've stayed in the darkness for so long that even a glimmer of light is worth everything, even if it's false... at least I've briefly possessed it, and that's enough."

Ivar spoke words that Cornel couldn't understand.

Their conversation fell into silence for a while before Ivar spoke first.

"You said Hebdo is here already?"

"According to the schedule, yes."

"Oh... I understand."

Ivar nodded and gazed out the window. The setting sun slowly dipped below the sea horizon, the warm light gradually succumbing to the cold of the night.

He was somewhat reluctant to part with the last rays of light, and said with a touch of lament.

"I like it here, Gaulunaro. It's much warmer here than in the Viking countries, everywhere is fertile land, not solid permafrost."

Cornel's gaze towards Ivar became strange. From Ivar's perspective, he should hate Gaulunaro, but his expression seemed genuinely appreciative.

"My father, Ragnar Rodbrock, King of the Ice Sea, I suppose you know him, right?"

"Yes, the warrior who unified the Viking countries, who wouldn't know his name?" Cornel replied.

"Do you know? The greatest regret of my father's life was becoming the King of the Ice Sea."

Ivar began to recount a story long buried in dust.

Cornel's expression grew solemn, believing that Ivar wasn't lying, yet the story was rather astonishing.

A king's greatest regret was becoming a king.

"My father first went to sea alone at 16, during the harsh winter of the Viking countries. Everyone was shivering with hunger in the cold wind, trying to survive, to keep their loved ones from starving. Like many Vikings, he became a pirate, plundering wealth and food."

Everything seemed to return to the past, the scene tinged with the pale yellow of time.

"He succeeded, it seemed that Odin was protecting him. He plundered enough supplies to last through the winter... But winter always returns. When the second winter came, people joined his crew, the ships for plundering grew more numerous, and the number of people they needed to care for increased..."

Ivar's voice was soft, as if telling an ancient story.

"And so, year after year of plundering continued, until one day he looked back and was amazed to find that an innumerable crowd had followed him, like an army.

He hoped more people could survive. For this goal, he tried to unify the constantly warring countries. After many years, he achieved it, but then realized that the people he had to care for had grown from a few relatives to countless individuals."

Cornel gulped. Though it was just a story, he inexplicably felt a chill emanate from Ivar, like the scent of flowers or the chill of a breeze.

"After becoming king, he discovered those cruel truths, why the countries were constantly at war. Because this cold, barren land simply couldn't support so many people, the only way was to kill, fight, plunder, thus reducing the population. The so-called dedication to Odin was just to beautify this brutal fact.

Every year, many people still died in winter, and the number kept growing. As a king, he wanted to save his people, but found he couldn't. Previously, just robbing a merchant ship could feed the whole family, but now? He had to feed numerous people within the countries, what could he plunder?"

The light was disappearing inch by inch, darkness was about to descend. In the dim room, Cornel could barely see Ivar's face anymore.

"Yes, plundering is not the solution. The solution to this predicament is not the honor of Odin, nor the promise of going to the Heroic Spirit Hall after death."

In the dimness, Ivar's voice turned malevolent, carrying a nauseating scent of blood, as though he had instantly transformed into some indescribable monster.

"The solution is war, a victorious and cruel war. Perhaps many will die, but maybe we can seize warm fertile lands, with no more winter, no more death, with bountiful crops growing, more people may survive."

Under the demon's words, Cornel understood everything in an instant, yet he couldn't believe the truth was so cruel, nor that Ivar was so insane, willing to offer himself as a sacrifice for this mad war.

Cornel wanted to shout something, but before he could make a sound, Ivar grabbed his throat with shocking strength from a skinny arm.

"Plunder, constantly plunder, until the offspring of Odin are no longer tormented by the cold wind, until everyone can live happily."

A surging wave carrying violent energy shattered the glass, everyone howled in pain under the vibrations, followed by the sound of a mountain collapse piercing their ears, almost robbing everyone of their hearing, but in the long resonance, Cornel heard, and saw.

Ivar's expression twisted like an evil ghost, his voice clearly reaching the ears.

"For all this, I willingly offer myself."

The fractured noise enveloped everyone, crashing back and forth in the dim room, the sweetness of blood and the northern winter mingled, starting to boil, to roar.