novelraw Chapter 87 : Chapter 87
Chapter 87 : Chapter 87
Chapter 87. Variable (1)
The Count of Staviana had ruined Gawain’s life.
Years ago, the Count had sent assassins to the Third Prince’s palace.
That day, Gawain’s mother met her death.
Not at the assassins’ hands.
It was Gawain who killed his own mother.
Because of his illness—his berserk fits.
Gawain carried a mental affliction.
In moments of excitement, he would completely lose his reason.
It was called Divine Turbulence Disorder.
Once a berserk fit began, Gawain recognized neither fire nor water.
He swung the spear and holy power without distinction between friend or foe.
His mother was caught in the aftermath. She was torn apart along with the assassins.
—My son, it is not your fault. I do not resent you. Do not cry, but harden your heart. This is all a trial. Overcome it, and use your strength for humanity. Never forget. You are a child chosen by the Great Saint.
That was his mother’s final will.
Though she had not blamed Gawain, the world was different.
Everyone called him a parricide.
Countless nobles turned their backs on him.
He had no choice but to fall.
Once named a candidate for the throne, he was ultimately cast out of the palace.
The position of crown prince became vacant, and the Seventh Prince claimed it.
The Seventh Prince was the Count of Staviana’s grandson.
To raise his grandson to crown prince, the Count had orchestrated Gawain’s downfall.
Everything went according to his plan.
The Count seized even greater power, and the incident of the Third Prince’s palace assault was quietly buried.
Only a handful knew the truth.
Gawain was one of them.
He had learned the hidden truth of that night from a knight named Campbell, once the Count’s retainer.
Not long ago, Campbell had suddenly sought Gawain out and confessed.
—Your Highness, I was one of the assassins who assaulted the Third Prince’s palace. This scar is the proof.
A great burn scar marred Campbell’s face.
It had been left by Gawain’s berserk rampage.
Kneeling, he confessed his sins one after another.
—It was the Count of Staviana’s order that I drove Your Highness into a frenzy. I carried it out, shamefully. And you bore a terrible wound upon your heart. Please, tear this traitor apart and put me to death.
From Campbell’s confession, Gawain learned everything.
The Count of Staviana had stolen his entire life.
For Gawain, the Count was an enemy who must be killed.
Gawain spoke.
“Sir Yohan, I heard the news. I must congratulate you.”
“What news do you mean?”
“You not only received a title, but were admitted into the Kingdom’s Council. At such a young age.”
Yohan answered calmly.
“It is all by His Majesty the King’s grace.”
Gawain shook his head.
“No. Wrong. It is the Count of Staviana’s scheming, surely.”
A shadow crossed Gawain’s face.
He could not manage his expression. Just the thought of the Count overturned his stomach.
Yohan swallowed his silence.
“…The Count’s scheming, indeed. In truth, it would not have been possible without his influence.”
Because the Count changed the law, the young Yohan could become head of house.
Because of the Count, the half-ruined House Miyatro was admitted to the Council.
Gawain asked.
“Sir Yohan, let me be direct. Why is the Count supporting your house?”
As far as he knew, the Count and Yohan were enemies.
The Count had always schemed to devour the Miyatro Family, and Yohan had struggled desperately to protect it.
But the situation changed in an instant.
Suddenly, the Count began to support Yohan.
It was baffling—and Gawain even felt a degree of betrayal.
He had originally intended to bring Yohan into his own faction.
They shared a common enemy, and when they had met before, their conversation had flowed easily.
Perhaps in the future, they might have achieved much together.
That hope dimmed.
Yohan and the Count had joined hands.
The reason was impossible to discern.
Yohan said.
“For the sake of my house. To restore the ruined barony, I struck a bargain with the Count.”
Gawain’s face grew darker.
“…So you would join hands with a devil for something so small?”
Yohan frowned.
“Your Highness, how can you call it small? Look upon the South. Calamities erupt every other day. Malice runs rampant, and I have no means to restrain it. The title Watcher of the Abyss is a shame to me. The Miyatro Family needs power. At least the minimum strength to protect our people and watch the Abyss. With the Count’s support, I can secure some of that. I made this bargain to fulfill my duty—not to satisfy petty desires.”
Yohan’s words were reason itself.
Gawain could hardly argue.
He dipped his head slightly.
“I withdraw my words of ‘so small.’ I spoke rashly, overcome by emotion. I did not mean it.”
Yohan said.
“Whatever my situation, I see one thing clearly. You loathe the Count. May I ask the reason?”
Gawain hesitated briefly.
At last, he spoke.
“…It is a very personal matter. Difficult to share.”
He was putting up a wall against Yohan.
And understandably so.
Yohan stood allied with the Count.
Gawain could not show his hand.
Yohan nodded.
“I see. Then I will not pry. Only, remember this: in politics, there are no eternal friends or enemies. That I stand with the Count now does not mean this alliance will last forever. Once each side’s needs are filled, the bond may break at any time. All ties entangled with interest are thus. Please, Your Highness, keep this in mind.”
Gawain looked puzzled.
“I hear your advice. But why tell me this?”
Yohan answered evenly.
“In the future, perhaps you and I will stand together. I wanted to leave that possibility open.”
One day, Gawain would surely become a hero bearing humanity’s fate.
The bond with him must not be cut.
To stop the End, Yohan had to make use of him.
Gawain gazed at Yohan quietly.
Then suddenly burst into a guileless laugh.
“Haha! Sir Yohan, you really are amusing. At once candid, yet seasoned like those old foxes of the capital.”
Yohan chuckled.
“I will take it as praise.”
“Of course it’s praise. To give such an impression at your age—it is no easy feat.”
Yohan shrugged with a joking air.
“All street-learned manners, nothing more. I was a vagabond, after all.”
By his cover story, Yohan was a drifter from the streets.
An illegitimate child abandoned by the baron, taken in only because of succession.
It was already common knowledge, so there was no need to hide it.
Gawain said.
“You must have endured much hardship.”
“So did you, Your Highness.”
Gawain had lived an unhappy childhood.
After being driven from the palace, he had suffered in countless ways.
Scorn and ridicule had always followed him.
“Haha! When you think about it, we have much in common.”
Though Yohan could not think of much else. He was puzzled.
“What else, Your Highness?”
Gawain’s smile faded. Calmly, he said:
“We wield the same kind of weapon. You’ve been training in spearmanship lately, haven’t you?”
Yohan was startled. How could Gawain know that? No matter how he thought, he found no answer.
No one outside the castle had ever seen his training.
Though shaken, Yohan kept his composure.
“That is true. A spear suits me better than a sword. But how did Your Highness know?”
Gawain replied.
“The training grounds are piled with broken wooden spears. Yet the soldiers all wear swords, not spears. And your hands are calloused.”
Yohan swallowed silently, unheard.
From a careless mistake, he had given cause for suspicion.
Before, Gawain had already sensed the Holy Spear Espada upon him.
Now Yohan was training with spears.
Anyone would doubt.
Yohan said.
“Your perception is sharp indeed. As you say, I’ve become absorbed in spearmanship. I’ve devoted myself to training day and night. These calluses only formed recently.”
Gawain opened his palm.
“The same for me. In my training days, my hands were covered in blisters. Though for months now, I’ve not gripped a spear.”
Yohan began to act. With careful expression, he asked:
“…Could it be that you still have not found Espada?”
Gawain nodded.
“Regrettably, no. Lately, I don’t even feel its presence.”
The Holy Spear Espada no longer existed in this world.
Only the Cursed Spear Turabak remained.
Yohan’s face filled with sorrow.
“It pains me to even speak of it. If there is any way I can help, please say so. I will lend my strength however I can.”
Gawain smiled faintly.
“I thank you, but don’t trouble yourself. Espada is bound to my soul. Unless I find it myself, no one’s help can change that.”
Bound to his soul? That was the first Yohan had heard. Even in the original story, it was unknown.
Yohan spoke.
“…You mean Espada is engraved in your soul?”
Gawain nodded.
“Yes. Espada and I are one.”
A faint tension gripped Yohan.
“Then…?”
His words cut off.
The reception room door opened.
Ilea entered suddenly, speaking.
“My apologies. Forgive my intrusion, it was urgent.”
Yohan looked at her.
“What is it?”
Ilea approached, whispering very softly.
“Something’s strange about Gawain. I sense a faint but unmistakable miasma from him. Something’s going wrong.”
Yohan felt struck in the back of the head.
A suspicion was surfacing.
He whispered into her ear.
“…Is he being corroded? From the backlash of the spear’s corruption?”
Ilea nodded.
“That seems likely.”
According to Gawain, his soul was bound to the Holy Spear Espada.
But Espada had fallen, becoming the Cursed Spear Turabak.
Its influence could reach him.
There was precedent in the original story.
The principality’s wraith, Gepetto. His soul-engraved relic had been defiled, and he gradually decayed.
In the end, he became a demon.
Yohan turned his gaze on Gawain.
Perhaps it was imagination—but Gawain’s pupils looked darker than before.