novelraw Chapter 106
Chapter 106
Chapter 106
The standoff that had taken place in the Fifth Prince’s Palace ended the moment Marquis Bradman appeared.
‘This is no time to be standing around here. I have to go, now, quickly.’
Marcellus, who alone had jumped in fright at the marquis’s appearance, left the Fifth Prince’s Palace without even looking back, as if a fire had been lit under his feet.
Flap—!
Only the flutter of his collar remained in the air where Marcellus had disappeared.
“…!”
Everyone in the Fifth Prince’s Palace was momentarily thrown into confusion by Marcellus’s strange behavior.
And in that disturbance, something brushed against Marquis Bradman’s superhuman senses. His pupils soon trembled.
‘What on earth… This energy—it belonged to His Majesty!’
The Sword of the Empire, Revildren Bradman. Standing at the highest level among those gathered in the Fifth Prince’s Palace, he sensed the disturbance a step earlier than anyone else. His expression darkened.
‘A father–son reunion will have to wait….’
The Emperor’s energy was fluctuating—wildly. Sensing how grave the situation was, Marquis Bradman steeled his resolve. Then, silently, he shifted his gaze to Terrien.
‘I was planning to at least try being a father for once….’
Whether he understood such feelings or not, Terrien was busy discussing Marcellus’s strange behavior with the comrades standing beside him.
“What’s that guy Marcellus even thinking? Suddenly barging in only to run off like that.”
“Who knows. With him, it’s obvious he came with ill intentions… but he looked like something in his plan went wrong. Right? Whatever it was, he looked really startled.”
“Don’t trust a word that man says. He might’ve done it just to give us a headache. He’s more than capable of that.”
“Now that you mention it… Marcellus moved awfully fast earlier… How does he even do that with that body…?”
The marquis’s eyes were fixed on Terrien, yet Terrien’s were turned only toward his comrades.
‘…He doesn’t even give me a single glance. Well, I’m not a man worthy of being called your father. I’m sorry, Terrien… my son.’
Marquis Bradman, for his own reasons, had kept his distance and lived apart from Terrien, his illegitimate son.
‘I thought it was the right thing back then…’
But now, looking back with age, he realized there was no greater regret in his life. And today, for some reason, that long-buried regret weighed heavier than ever.
Standing there like a sack of barley dumped in the middle of the room, the marquis finally opened his mouth and called out to Terrien.
“Terrien.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Terrien finally turned his head at the marquis’s call. In his reply—his voice, tone, and gaze—there was not a trace of affection between father and son. Terrien was responding to the marquis mechanically, no more.
“…I’m sorry.”
“…Pardon?”
Terrien’s eyes widened at the marquis’s sudden words. But the incomprehensible statement continued.
“I am sorry—for everything.”
“What are you suddenly…?”
Terrien never got to hear the answer. The marquis finished what he wanted to say, then disappeared like the wind.
Fwoosh—!
“…What?”
Terrien stood staring blankly at the spot where the marquis had vanished.
This happened exactly three minutes before Terrien, Bernid, and the others in the Fifth Prince’s Palace noticed the disturbance in the Imperial Palace.
In the Imperial Palace of the Aphahiel Empire—right in the center of the main palace’s great hall—something that should never happen was taking place.
Boom—! Crash—!
Explosions burst here and there from the aftermath of the battle, making it impossible to hide the situation any longer. The interior had long since been half-destroyed.
At the center stood the Emperor, drenched in blood. And across from him stood the figure of Ipalim.
“…I acknowledge Your Majesty remains vigorous. However, it is time for you to go. I will send you off with the final courtesy befitting the last Emperor of the Aphahiel dynasty, so cease this meaningless resistance and surrender.”
The Emperor let out a faint laugh at Ipalim’s words. He had already cut down more than a dozen enemies with his own hands. Soaked in the blood of his foes from head to toe, he brushed back his blood-soaked hair as if he didn’t care about any of it, smiling with relaxed ease.
“You tell me to surrender when in a battle already won, I’ve slaughtered all the elites you first sent in? Ipalim, it seems you think you alone can face me.”
“…I never said I was alone, Your Majesty. And those were not the elites.”
“Quite the amusing story. Then go ahead—call forth your real elites you’ve been hiding. I’ve been feeling rather rejuvenated moving my body again after a long time. This is hardly enough.”
Ipalim’s face twisted as though stung by humiliation. Soon, he drew a horn from inside his robes and brought it to his lips.
Piiiii—!
A frequency impossible for ordinary humans to hear rang out from the horn. Naturally, both the Emperor and Ipalim—far beyond human limits—heard it clearly.
As if his task was done, Ipalim tucked the horn back into his robes and formed a chilling smile.
“…You could’ve stopped it easily if you wished. Why you didn’t, I can’t imagine. That arrogant decision of Yours will be what leads you to death, Your Majesty.”
“There was no need. Didn’t I tell you? I want to warm up a bit more.”
The Emperor’s composure made Ipalim uneasy, but he still had something he trusted.
‘He avoided the heart, but the blade dug quite deep… And the venom coating it wasn’t ordinary… How is he still standing like this? But this is the end…!’
About fifteen seconds after Ipalim sounded the horn, new presences began drawing near.
Rustle—
The additional forces that had been lying in wait nearby for today’s undertaking began joining the battlefield one after another.
‘They’re coming…!’
And then.
“Kuh—!”
“…!”
A dying scream rang out, and the approaching presences that had been swiftly closing the distance stopped in their tracks. A familiar voice struck Ipalim’s ear.
“Drive out the traitors and protect His Majesty the Emperor! Loyal knights of Aphahiel, follow me!”
The arrival of Marquis Bradman! The marquis, the first to sense this commotion within the Imperial Palace, had led the Imperial Knights and joined the battlefield. Ipalim bit his lip.
‘Damn it… I rushed as much as I could, but already….’
At that moment, the Emperor spoke again.
“It seems that my opponent will have to be you after all.”
Even though a dozen elite assassins had rushed in, the Emperor’s body bore only a few light scratches aside from the wound where Ipalim’s dagger had struck in his surprise attack.
‘Yulaios Aphahiel… just what kind of monster is that man…?’
Crack—
But there was no turning back now. Ipalim clenched his teeth and adjusted his grip on the dagger in his hand.
“It appears so indeed. Your Majesty’s life— I’ll be taking it.”
“Yes, that’s how it should be. If not you, who else would dare face me?”
Though he spoke boldly, the Emperor’s condition was far from good. He was barely suppressing the poison with his mana, keeping it from running rampant, but it had already spread throughout his body.
Kwahng—!
A deafening crash erupted from one side of the Grand Hall. By ill fortune—or perhaps by intent—it was the wall where Ipalim had been standing. The shockwave sent him flying far away.
“Keuk—!”
The collapsed wall scattered clouds of dust, and through the haze emerged the Empire’s Greatest Sword—Marquis Bradman.
“Your Majesty! Are you all right?!”
The Emperor had already anticipated the Marquis’s arrival, yet there was no time for relief. He spoke at once, cutting to the heart of the matter.
“Marquis. If you have the strength to aid me, then go to the Fifth Prince instead. If the enemy has plotted something of this scale, Yurion will not be safe either. You must go. He should be in the Tomb of Swords right now.”
“B-but, how can I leave Your Majesty behind…”
“Rev.”
The Emperor called his old friend’s name softly. Then, lowering his voice, he whispered into the Marquis’s ear.
“…It’s already too late for me. I managed to slow the spread of the poison, but at best, I have thirty minutes left.”
“…! T-that can’t be!”
“It’s the truth. I’m sorry, Rev. Even at the end, I leave only burdens to you… From this moment on, Yurion will be the Crown Prince—no, the next Emperor. I entrust him to you, my friend.”
Marquis Bradman met the Emperor’s gaze. There was not a trace of hesitation left in the Emperor’s eyes. He had already foreseen his death.
‘Ah… so His Majesty has already accepted his fate.’
That unwavering gaze gave strength to the Marquis’s faltering steps. The Emperor’s longtime friend—Rev—nodded silently in response.
Then, from the corner where he had been flung by the Marquis’s earlier strike, Ipalim rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes.
“Phew, that was close. I almost died, Marquis.”
“Ipalim, you bastard…! His Majesty cherished you so dearly, yet how could you…!”
“There’s no need to explain that. More importantly, I’m curious—what amusing conversation were you two having just now?”
“You wretch…!”
“If the Marquis remains here, I’ll feel a bit pressured myself. Hm, come to think of it, by now, the Fifth Prince must be…”
As soon as Ipalim uttered Yurion’s name, the Emperor signaled to the Marquis with a glance and gave a subtle nod.
Go. You must go now.
Your Majesty…
Their gazes crossed for a fleeting moment—and then, a gust of wind blew.
Whish—!
The Marquis vanished without a word. In the blink of an eye, it was as if Marquis Bradman had never been there at all.
“Phew, I was worried what I’d do if the two of you attacked together.”
“That won’t happen. I alone am enough to face you.”
“For someone saying that, Your Majesty’s complexion looks rather poor. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Pak—!
Instead of answering, the Emperor shot forward like an arrow, thrusting his sword straight toward Ipalim’s throat.
“Ik—!”
Chaeng—!
Ipalim barely blocked the strike, crossing the daggers gripped in both hands to parry the Emperor’s attack.
The Emperor’s sword and Ipalim’s daggers locked together in a fierce contest of strength.
Kaduk— Kadeudeudeuk—!
The clash of their razor-sharp blades echoed with an eerie screech.
“See? I’m not useless just yet.”
Over their locked blades, the Emperor’s and Ipalim’s gazes collided in midair, sparks flying between them.
At that very moment, Marquis Bradman, bearing the Emperor’s final order, raced toward the place where Yurion would be.
He was neither an arrow nor the wind—he was the Empire’s strongest warrior, streaking toward the Tomb of Swords like a bolt of lightning.
‘I must save His Highness the Fifth Prince. No— I must protect the new Emperor…!’