novelraw Chapter 108
Chapter 108
Chapter 108
Inside the imperial palace of Aphahayel, in its deepest chamber—the Grand Hall. A place that had always been solemn and majestic, now painted with a vision of hell.
Blood, flesh, and shattered bodies.
Everywhere lay remnants of what once were people, scattered across the Grand Hall, as though to bear witness to the brutality of the battle that had just ended.
The corpses of the traitorous Owls and the Duke of Tindal’s subordinates.
And the remains of the knights who had fought to the end, loyal to the Emperor, wielding their swords in his name. All that was left of those who had been breathing mere hours ago.
Amid that gruesome sight one could hardly bear to look upon, the two men who had begun this battle were still standing face-to-face.
But in the end, only one would remain.
Puk–!
“…Kuhp!”
After a long, brutal fight, Ipalim’s blade finally pierced the Emperor’s chest, driving straight through his heart.
Though the dagger burned with mana like a living flame, its touch was icy cold.
Standing before the bleeding Emperor, Ipalim smiled faintly.
“…Hoo, it’s finally over. You endured far too long in that body, Your Majesty. It’s time you rest.”
Unlike his failed first strike, Ipalim’s blade this time had pierced the Emperor’s heart precisely, shattering his Mana Heart. The poisonous energy that the Emperor had barely been suppressing burst forth, dragging him to the brink of death.
The Emperor had long since foreseen his own end. And yet, he smiled.
“To be smiling when you’re dying at the hands of your trusted subordinate—what could be so amusing, Your Majesty?”
As if he had been waiting for that question, the Emperor laughed heartily.
“Heh… Heheheh… How could I not be pleased? I lived my whole life as an Emperor, and only at the end can I finally fulfill my duty as a father. That’s quite a fine death, wouldn’t you say?”
“You seem to be placing your faith in the Marquis… But no matter if he is Bradman, the Empire’s greatest swordsman—he alone cannot stop the tide that’s coming. Your Majesty, it’s time to accept it. Aphahayel… the Empire… is finished.”
“…Ipalim, do you truly believe that?”
The dying Emperor met Ipalim’s gaze with eyes that were anything but dying. Having served beside him for so long, Ipalim knew those eyes well. That gaze was no bluff—and that was what infuriated him most.
‘You’re barely alive, and still…!’
Rage moved Ipalim’s hand.
Crunch–!
He twisted the dagger still buried deep in the Emperor’s chest. The Emperor had no strength left to resist. Death, which had been hovering at his throat, finally swallowed him whole.
“…Yes. That is my answer.”
Thus perished Julio Aphahayel, Emperor of the Aphahayel Empire. Yet not even death could erase the smile from his lips.
By the time the Emperor met his end, at the Tomb of Swords, Yuwon and Marcellus were reuniting.
“To see Your Highness’s body in such condition… it is entirely my failing. Please entrust the aftermath to me, Your Highness.”
“Marcellus… you… how…?”
There were still many things left unsaid between them.
However, the reunion between Yuwon and the unmasked Marcellus could not last long.
‘Ipalim is coming this way… and there’s an even stronger presence beside him….’
They weren’t coming to welcome Yuwon.
‘No time to waste.’
Sensing the approaching enemies, Marcellus hurried to do what he must.
“There’s so much I wish to tell Your Highness… but you’ve lost too much blood. You must recover your strength without delay. Leave everything to me and rest easy, Your Highness.”
Those were the last words Yuwon heard from him.
Marcellus then pressed a gentle hand to Yuwon’s sleep acupoint, sending him into a deep slumber.
Already at his limit, Yuwon quickly succumbed to unconsciousness.
As Marcellus lifted Yuwon onto his back and was about to leave, Tindal’s men—and Ipalim—arrived at the Tomb of Swords.
“Damn it… looks like the others are all dead.”
Entering the tomb, Ipalim clicked his tongue at the sight before him.
Yuwon had fought with such ferocity that the tomb was long drenched in blood—both his and his enemies’.
With Marcellus joining the fray, the Tomb of Swords had indeed become a true tomb.
“At least you’re still alive, Marcellus. So you were the one holding on to the Fifth Prince.”
While Ipalim approached with feigned familiarity, Marcellus’s tone was frigid.
“…Ipalim. Why did you plan all this without saying a word to me?”
“What? Don’t flatter yourself. I only sought your counsel because you were still useful. You’re neither my superior nor my equal. Anyway, what’s the problem? Everything’s gone just as we wanted. Smile a little, my friend. You finally got your wish—the Emperor you so hated is dead by my hand.”
“…So the Emperor is dead.”
Marcellus had already expected it the moment all this began.
Ipalim’s words merely confirmed it.
“Yes, I ended it myself.”
“Do you know why I hated the Emperor?”
“…Who knows. You swore you’d never speak of it, didn’t you?”
“I’ll tell you now.”
“…?”
Though Marcellus’s tone was calm, his heart was not.
“I hated him because he let the Third Empress and the Requil House be destroyed. He had the power to stop it, but he didn’t. That shock… it killed her.”
“I thought as much.”
“I wondered when you’d realize it, but seeing what you did today, I suppose you finally have.”
“You’ve been acting strangely for a while. When the Fifth Prince began to stand out, you suddenly vanished, so I had you investigated.”
“Took you long enough. Yes—it was me….”
As his voice trailed off, a dark mist began to swirl around Marcellus.
When he stepped out of the shadows again, he no longer looked like the eunuch the world knew.
Step, step—
Out of the mist walked a man dressed head to toe in jet-black robes. Tall and well-built, his body was honed like a sharpened blade.
Having hidden his true identity for half his life, serving as a double agent at Yurion’s side, Marcellus finally revealed himself in Yuwon’s moment of crisis.
“I am… the Shadow Crow of Requil.”
Had it been anyone else, Ipalim might have been stunned. But for someone from that legendary organization—the Crows—it was another story.
Suspecting all along that Marcellus was disguised for some hidden reason, Ipalim feigned surprise.
“So the rotten ghosts of Requil still linger… and right beside me, no less. Impressive—you can even alter your form with sorcery. As the leader of the Owls, I admit I’m a little envious. The original truly is on another level, eh?”
“…I have no time for your jesting, Ipalim. Step aside. I must take His Highness.”
“Marcellus. Why do you think I’m here? You’d best hand over the Prince and move aside. You deceived me for years, and though that angers me, your counsel has proven useful more than once. Consider this my final mercy.”
“Ipalim… what could have twisted you this far?”
“…Don’t think you’re the only one with a grudge against the Emperor. You buried yours in your heart. I merely acted on mine.”
“…So there’s truly no reasoning with you?”
“You may go, but leave the Prince behind.”
“….”
Between them still hung unspoken words—
At that moment, a new group arrived late to the Tomb of Swords. At their head was Marquis Bradman.
“What in the world… is all this?!”
Before the Marquis could even finish speaking, Terrien, Bernid, and the others from the Fifth Prince’s palace arrived one after another behind him.
“Your Highness!”
“Yurion!”
Terrien and Bernid were the first to rush forward and take Yuwon from Marcellus’s arms.
“Sir… teacher?!”
“Why are you here, sir…?!”
Hastings and Gillian were the first to react to the appearance of Marcellus—or rather, their “teacher.”
The mysterious division leader had suddenly appeared in the imperial palace without any notice, holding Yuwon in his arms.
Naturally, the others had countless questions, but there was no time for answers now.
The Emperor was dead, and the other princes had fled.
All that remained was the Fifth Prince, Yuwon, the one destined to become the next Emperor.
Those who had gathered at the Tomb of Swords—some to kill him, others to save him—stood in tense opposition, creating a brief moment of chaos.
“Sir, why are you here without saying a word…?”
Feigning calm amidst the confusion, Hastings subtly slipped a hand into his garments and drew a hidden weapon. Marcellus noticed and smiled faintly.
‘He’d even kill me if he thought I were a threat to His Highness. Good. Excellent. I chose well, Hastings. I can trust you.’
“Do not worry. I am here to protect His Highness.”
With just that single statement, Marcellus managed to calm the Marquis and the Fifth Prince’s retainers who had joined the battlefield late.
Even so, Hastings did not lower his guard.
Marcellus’s smile deepened.
‘Yes, I knew you would. You protect only His Highness—not Requil. That is your strength.’
Marcellus valued that in him.
Then he called his name.
“Hastings.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Take this.”
“Yes?”
Tak–
Marcellus didn’t wait for his answer.
By the time Hastings began to question him, something heavy landed in his hand.
It was a dagger—one engraved with the emblem of a crow, the kind every member of the Crows carried.
But this one was different, subtly distinct from the ordinary ones.
The red gem embedded in the crow’s eye caught Hastings’s attention.
He didn’t know it, but the gem was identical to the one set in the ring Yurion had inherited from his mother.
“Sir, what is this all of a sudden…?”
It wasn’t something to be handed over lightly, but there was no time to ask or think further.
“…From this moment, you are the leader of the Crows. I shall fulfill the mission I have left undone. From now on, you will devote your life to protecting His Highness.”
“Sir…! What are you saying? Please, explain!”
To Hastings’s desperate plea, Marcellus gave the answer he had kept buried in his heart for many years.
“…Do you remember what you once asked me—what had become of my oath of loyalty, of my vow?”
At those words, something clicked in Hastings’s memory.
“S-surely not…!”
He remembered it well—back when he had been captured and tortured by Marcellus, who was disguised as a chamberlain. He had shouted then, ‘Where has your vow of loyalty gone, Marcellus?!’
And now, this was Marcellus’s reply.
“I have never once forgotten that vow in all my life, Hastings.”
Having said what he needed to, Marcellus turned his gaze toward the enemy.
“Then we shall clear the way. Take His Highness and the others and escape. I entrust the aftermath to you.”
With that, Marcellus turned from Hastings and faced the enemies before him.
Across from him, Ipalim let out a derisive laugh.
“Heh, clear the way? You must be feeling confident now that you have reinforcements. Do you think I’ll let you pass so easily?”
Chrk– Chkchk–
At Ipalim’s signal, the Duke of Tindal’s subordinates behind him placed their hands on their swords, making a sharp, metallic sound.
There were about forty of them—each radiating the aura of a trained elite, no less formidable than the Owls or the Crows.
Riding on their fierce presence, Ipalim’s lips curled into a triumphant grin.
“The Fifth Prince’s men may each have some skill, but in the end, you’re still half-grown children.
Now, let’s see what you can do.”
Marcellus answered not with words, but with a smile—a smile very different from Ipalim’s confident one.
Hidden beneath his mask, it was a bitter, resolute smile.
‘He’s smiling… now?’
Ipalim frowned, sensing something off about the curve of Marcellus’s lips beneath the mask.
Then, after long years of silence, the Crow finally spoke.
“I’m sorry to have made you wait this long… and for deceiving you as well.
You have all done splendidly. There is no need to hide anymore. Come forth.
Now is the time to stand proudly as Crows and face the enemy.”
Srrrk– Thud–
At his words, figures began to emerge from all around the Tomb of Swords—Crows who had been hidden until now.
From the tall grass, from the stone slabs where swords were impaled, and even from the shattered ceiling above, they gathered one by one.
“It’s an honor, sir.”
Among them were the shadow operatives who had accompanied Marcellus even when he disguised himself as a eunuch, aware of his true identity.
“…We wondered when you’d return. I never imagined that the man I served for a decade in the palace was truly you. We’ve been waiting for your command.”
More Crows appeared—those who had hidden across the palace for years, waiting for this moment.
“To think that you were that eunuch Marcellus… I used to think no one could act their role better than me, but I guess I still have a ways to go. Welcome back, sir.”
“Hey, Gillian. And rookie. Been well?
Look at me now—what a sight, huh?
Turns out that Marcellus was the teacher all along.”
Soon, the comrades Gillian had once summoned to track down Marcellus also appeared.
Some of them had already discovered his secret a bit earlier during their search for him.
There were roughly thirty of them in total.
The Crows formed a circular defensive line around Yuwon.
“Sir, all available personnel have assembled.”
“Good… understood.”
Standing at the front of the formation, facing the enemy leader, Marcellus spoke heavily.
“This is my final command as your leader.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Clear the path for His Highness.”
Following Marcellus’s command, the Crows drew their weapons in unison.
Clang– Chaaang–!
“I shall give my life to protect Requil!”
“For Aphahayel!”
“For Prince Yurion!”
In response, Ipalim and his rebels also drew their blades.
Chaechaaang–!
“Kill them all! End it here!”
“Uwooooh–!”
Between those who sought to protect Yuwon and those who sought to kill him,
a new, desperate battle began once more.