Chapter 141: Violent Current (2)

Graham, upon passing through the entrance of the Imperial Palace, paused for a moment and looked around.

Something was strange.

Nothing had changed compared to before, but it seemed as though there were stains scattered everywhere.

The shadows were long—so long that they made the sun high in the sky seem insignificant—and between the corners, completely black shadows had gathered.

He blinked, thinking it might be an illusion, and looked again. But it was the same. An unpleasant feeling took hold of him.

“Is something wrong, sir?”

“No.”

Graham shook his head at the guard’s question.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir.”

He had been summoned by the emperor.

He had heard rumors that something had happened in the palace, but he didn’t know the details. He simply assumed that was why the emperor had called for him.

Graham arrived at the great hall where the emperor resided.

The Imperial Guard, dressed in black armor, stood guard at the entrance.

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as the doors opened, Graham entered and knelt on one knee in a gesture of respect.

“Your servant Graham greets Your Majesty.”

Since he received no response, he kept his head bowed. Finally, a weary voice echoed.

“Come closer…”

Graham looked up.

Emperor Ivar was seated on the throne.

He wore a red cloak with a golden lion embroidered on the shoulders, but even at a glance, it was clear he was ill. His face had a grayish tone.

Beside him, a physician tended to him carefully. Graham approached without showing his surprise. Ivar smiled.

“Did I surprise you?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Hehe…”

“If you’re feeling unwell, wouldn’t it be better to rest in your quarters?”

“The emperor cannot leave the great hall. The entire empire belongs to me—where else could I go? Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“The emperor must sit on the throne. Hehe…”

Graham once again felt a sense of unease.

Ivar usually didn’t flaunt his position as emperor. If anything, he was the opposite. He displayed his authority through a humble, even un-imperial attitude.

But now his words and actions were like those of a noble drunk on power.

“Hehe, hehehe…”

Ivar laughed again and then coughed, as if he had choked.

The physician quickly offered him a bowl. Ivar spat into it—saliva mixed with yellow pus and blood, as if vomiting.

“Are you all right, Your Majesty?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Who do you think I am?”

“You’ve always been healthy. How did you come to this state…?”

“Are you curious to know?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

Ivar looked at Graham. His eyes burned with a strange light.

“If I told you, would you help me, Graham?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m asking if you’d help me.”

“I’m Your Majesty’s knight.”

“Right. You’re a model knight. Although sometimes, being too upright is a problem.”

Ivar let out a chuckle.

“Someone has poisoned me.”

Graham looked up.

Ivar said it as if it were no big deal, but it was not something to be taken lightly. Someone had tried to assassinate the emperor.

“How can this be…?”

“So I caused a commotion. They’ll be here soon.”

At that moment, the doors to the great hall opened and new guests appeared.

Two people approached on either side of Graham and bowed.

“We greet Your Majesty.”

“We greet Your Majesty.”

They were familiar faces to Graham.

Crown Prince Eugen.

And Yalta, “the Barbarian of the Empire.”

“What did you do?”

“I crushed their skulls, Your Majesty.”

Yalta responded with a wide smile. His barbaric brutality was pure terror to his enemies.

Annoyed by the clothes he was wearing, Yalta adjusted himself while still bowed and spoke again.

“How could I forgive those who tried to kill Your Majesty? I smashed their heads with my fists.”

Ivar laughed.

“Well, well. I told you to bring me confessions…”

He looked at Eugen, who shrugged.

“Your Majesty knows the temperament of Lord Yalta is rather impulsive.”

“Hehe…”

Ivar chuckled.

“True. Anyway, I don’t need confessions. I already know everything.”

“That’s right.”

Graham didn’t fully understand the situation, so he remained silent.

“Graham.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I want to punish those who tried to assassinate the Emperor of the Empire. What do you think? Can I send you?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good. I’ll give you Yalta—go with him and drag those bastards back to me. Hehe…”

It seemed Ivar wanted to make a clear example by sending Yalta.

Sending Yalta was practically a declaration that he would not accept peaceful surrenders.

Yalta was pleased.

“I’m delighted to accompany Lord Graham, Your Majesty.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’ll do whatever Lord Graham says.”

“Very well, very well.”

Graham then understood why he had been summoned.

There weren’t many who could control Yalta. And Graham was one of them.

Although Yalta usually acted by brute force and in his own way, he accepted restraint well when it came from someone he deeply respected as a person.

He was as simple as a child, one could say.

Yalta looked at Graham with an awkward smile.

“Lord Graham. Let’s avenge His Majesty together, yes?”

Graham didn’t respond immediately. He looked at Ivar. There was still something he needed to know.

“Your Majesty, who exactly are the ones who attempted to harm you?”

“Ah, I forgot.”

Ivar gestured with his hand.

“Come here.”

Graham stepped forward and stopped. Ivar gestured more insistently for him to come closer.

Now they were so close their arms nearly touched. Graham could detect a faint stench coming from the emperor.

“The ear…”

Graham offered the side of his face as Ivar directed.

Ivar’s hand pulled his ear. A sharp pain ran through his body, but he didn’t show it.

The emperor’s breath, steeped in decay, brushed his skin as if crawling into his nose.

Finally, Ivar opened his lips and whispered the name of a country.

“…”

Graham, with his head bowed, blinked.

He didn’t understand what he had heard. But Ivar said nothing more. He simply let go of his ear.

“Do you understand?”

“Your Majesty…”

“Go with Yalta and destroy them.”

“Is what you just said really true?”

“It is.”

“And the evidence, or testimonies…?”

“Are you saying you can’t trust me, Graham?”

Ivar struck Graham’s side with his fist. Though he couldn’t hurt the knight, the strength of his resolve was evident.

“I’m telling you to go and demand accountability immediately. Are you not my knight?”

Of course, if they had truly done such a thing, they had to pay the price. But the truth had yet to be clarified.

“Your Majesty. If it’s certain that they poisoned you, I’ll gladly seek retribution. Even if I must stack corpses into a mountain.”

“They already have.”

“I’m clumsy and can’t believe what I don’t see. I beg you to give me proof so that I may believe.”

“Proof?”

“Yes.”

“But I already told you it was them!”

“Your Majesty…”

“Graham!”

Graham fell silent.

Ivar, his face marked by illness, now showed an anger that was unfamiliar to him.

The emperor he knew wielded indulgence as his weapon. Whether genuine or not, he believed that behavior was befitting of the most noble blood in the continent.

But now he wasn’t controlling his emotions at all. The change was too great to attribute solely to the poison. He seemed like a different person.

“Sir Graham.”

Eugen, who had been silent until then, spoke up.

“I know you’re a man faithful to the code of knighthood. But this is no trivial matter. They attempted to assassinate the emperor of the Empire. Are you really going to be so rigid in a situation like this?”

“It could be a ruse. And if that’s the case, the Empire, having been deceived, would become a laughingstock. We need to investigate the true culprit more thoroughly…”

Then Ivar shouted.

“Graham!”

It was such a loud cry it was hard to believe it came from a sick man.

He pointed his finger at Graham’s chest as if aiming a sword.

“Will you do it or not? Just tell me that. Even if it’s not you, there are many others. Even Yalta alone is enough.”

Graham gave the best answer he could offer.

“Grant me some time.”

“Time?”

“Yes.”

“Hahaha…”

Ivar let out a dry laugh, as if it scratched his throat. Then he closed his mouth and stared into space.

It was a profoundly strange scene.

An overwhelming silence fell over the room. Suddenly, Ivar nodded.

“Let’s do it that way.”

Eugen protested.

“But, Your Majesty. Those who dared to lay hands on you must be punished as soon as possible…”

“And what’s the rush?”

“Pardon?”

“Whether it’s today, tomorrow, or a month from now, I’m still the emperor and they’re still dead men. The important thing is how it’s done.”

Suddenly, Ivar’s pronunciation became clear, and his words, logical.

“Is there a knight more trustworthy than Graham? If it were only about killing, anyone would suffice. But the only knight capable of handling this in the most dignified way for the Empire is Graham. I respect him, which is why I grant his request.”

“Understood…”

“But I can’t give him too much time. I’m running out of patience.”

Seeing how Ivar changed moods constantly, Graham began to suspect his mind wasn’t sound.

He looked at the physician beside him for a moment, but he simply watched Ivar in silence.

“Graham, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good. You may go. I’ll send a messenger.”

Graham bowed his head.

As he left the hall, just before the doors closed, he turned to look.

Eugen was gesturing and saying something, while Yalta laughed with him. Ivar, with a completely sickly expression, had slumped over the throne. He only let out a silly chuckle now and then when Eugen spoke.

At that moment, Graham felt a deep anguish press against his chest.

Finally, the door closed.

***

It was a dark night with a new moon.

A square pile of firewood, arranged in multiple layers, rose toward the sky.

Suddenly, a small spark—no one knew who had thrown it—flew through the air and fell onto the wood.

At first, it seemed to smolder slowly, but in no time the fire spread, and everything burst into intense flames. The light illuminated the landscape steeped in darkness.

Sturdy young men, dressed in rags, sat in a circle.

As the flames danced, red masses of light flickered across the pupils of dozens of eyes.

“The day we part ways will come soon.”

The man in the red hood, standing behind the group, spoke.

It was Yuri, Instructor Number One, who had planned the entire training.

“I didn’t think you’d complete this training. I thought most of you would give up. But you proved me wrong. Yes, I’m proud of you.”

At his words, someone blew their nose. Memories of the recent training passed through the minds of everyone present.

It had been hard, but that made it all the more valuable.

“A day like this wouldn’t be complete without music. Instructor Number Two.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gonte, Instructor Number Two, waiting on the other side, pulled an instrument from his coat.

It was a whistle.

Pillili, pillili…

During training, that sound had made the knights want to cover their ears, but now it was a melancholy melody that touched the heart.

Pillili, pillili…

Then, Instructor Number Three, who was in another spot, began to sing.

“No matter how hard I try… there’s no way out…”

It was a sad song.

“This heap of manure… is my home…”

It was the kind of song that always came at moments like this. After the second verse, the knights sitting around began to sing along.

Though there were many, their voices harmonized as one.

We are the owls.
Even if we give our hearts… there are no true friends…
Even the birds that sang… have flown swiftly away…
Don’t go… don’t go… don’t go yet…
Let’s sing together… just one more song…

The song continued. Some couldn’t finish singing and broke into tears. Farewells were always sad.

At last, the song ended.

Pillili… pillili…

Even the sound of the whistle slowly faded away. Everyone was sniffing, caught up in the emotion.

Yuri approached Gonte and hugged him.

“Sir Gonte.”

“Prince…”

“I was glad to be with you.”

“For me as well. This isn’t goodbye forever, right?”

“Of course not.”

“What a relief.”

“We’ll meet again.”

They patted each other on the back.

“The training was a success.”

The knights of Joachim had become experts in mountain warfare.

Yuri was satisfied with the results. He had transformed aimless knights into cunning hunters capable of facing any enemy.

Yuri looked at Ena, who remained silent.

“Instructor Number Three.”

“Y-yes?”

“Why are you so quiet?”

“Uuh…”

Ena was on the verge of tears. After punishing them so much, it seemed she had grown fond of them.

“Are you crying?”

“N-no.”

“Instructor Number Three is crying! Owls, are you going to just stand there?!”

“That’s not true!”

“You need to thank her properly!”

The knights stood up and began tossing her into the air in celebration.

Again and again, Ena was thrown high into the sky and then caught. Instead of crying, she screamed.

“Kyaaaa!”

Yuri and Gonte, watching the scene with satisfied smiles, were also pulled in by the knights and thrown into the air.

Laughter echoed nonstop around the bonfire. It was such a beautiful moment that no one wanted it to end.

But time marched on.

No one could predict what the coming days would bring.

Only the moon, buried in the night sky, shed a faint light as if silently weeping.