Audrey held out “Soaring” toward me.
I hesitated for a moment, then glanced to my side. Liam was there, reading my mind with a single look.
「Eat it.」
“Do you mean I can actually digest it now?”
「Who knows?」 Liam stroked his chin thoughtfully. 「You’ll have to eat it to find out.」
“What do you mean by that?”
「I mean your blood is so diluted I can hardly sense it, you pathetic whelp of a descendant. Your body is a wreck, your martial talent is abysmal, and the Authority of Steel flowing in your veins is pitiful.」
“…….”
「A true Caravan could digest a legend or a myth without a second thought. No blade can defy the bloodline of Steel. But you? You are a different story. Your only innate talent is a level of paranoia bordering on psychosis. In all my wanderings through the Middle Realm, I’ve never seen a Caravan as lowly as you, so I cannot predict what you lack or what will happen. That is why you must eat it first to know. Do you understand?」
“……Yes.”
Liam poured out his criticism without pausing for breath. With my pride wounded, I took the blade Audrey offered. Beyond the bandages covering her face, I could see the corners of her mouth twitching. She was snickering. Feeling a sudden surge of annoyance, I looked at Liam.
“She’s laughing at me.”
「Just shut up and eat it, will you? Have you no shame?」
“…….”
I had no allies. How miserable.
I snatched the blade from Audrey and thrust it into the roaring fire. As soon as the metal glowed with sufficient heat, I shoved the sword into my mouth. Audrey looked on, horrified.
“Wait, what kind of crazy—”
It was crazy, indeed. But not for me.
Let’s see just how great of a sword you really are.
I bit down on the cold steel. A familiar, agonizing pain washed over me. Struggling to suppress a scream, I felt the shattered pieces of the blade travel down my esophagus and into my stomach. A horrific heat, as if I had swallowed a sun, consumed my entire body. It felt like being burned alive from the inside out.
Soon, the sword’s memories would come—a flood of a life more vast than I could handle. I braced my mind, preparing for the onslaught.
And then.
“Uh—”
My consciousness snapped like a frayed thread.
*
At the entrance of the Caravan estate, a heavy gloom hung over Rhapsody’s Legion.
They were trapped in a nightmare. They could neither continue the war nor withdraw. If the atrocities they had committed and the resulting fallout were revealed to the world, their prestige and honor would hit rock bottom.
“Damn it.”
It would have been less humiliating to simply lose. This sense of utter helplessness was a slow poison. While the knights were gripped by depression, the wizards were slightly better off. Since they were paid for every hour spent in the field, they likely hoped for the stalemate to drag on. The Wave Catchers had always been a mercenary lot, obsessed with coin.
“Whew.”
Among them, the one with the most convoluted thoughts was their commander, Edan Rhapsody. As the second son of House Rhapsody and the family’s representative, Edan had lost everything. His pride, his men, his standing. Sitting blankly, he looked up at the sky.
Where had it all gone sideways?
By Edan’s estimation, their current predicament was the result of the Iron Prince’s schemes. If Swordmaster Carlos had moved, it was by the Iron Prince’s will. Swordmaster Carlos was the sharpest blade on the continent, but he was no rogue agent; he was an executioner who moved solely by the command of the Iron Prince.
But why?
What did Iron Prince Ian Chervil have to gain by provoking the Six Free Cities? The Iron Prince had no rivals left. He had long since slaughtered his brothers and sisters, making him the sole successor who could ascend the throne just by continuing to breathe. He could sit on the Sword Throne this very moment if he wished. He possessed the most powerful executioner on the continent, after all.
The Iron Prince had a guaranteed future. He gained nothing by provoking Rhapsody like this. In fact, he had everything to lose. Once this incident concluded, Rhapsody would investigate the truth, and the family’s tacticians would reach the same conclusion Edan had. The moment that happened, the retaliation would be absolute. It was a risk the Iron Kingdom should never have taken.
The Steel Great Empire Chervil was a nation built on perpetual war. It was a land of poor resources and harsh territory—a precarious state that would collapse if it failed to prove its strength through annexation. Built on barren earth, the Iron Kingdom relied on imports for survival. And in the entire continent, excluding the Sky Empire, there was no land flowing with milk and honey like the Six Free Cities. If the Six Free Cities imposed economic sanctions, the Iron Kingdom would suffer a fatal blow. It was a move no sane heir would make.
Yes. That was the logical way to think.
But then, why on earth had he done it? It was completely incomprehensible.
To flaunt his power? Unlikely. The Iron Prince was a man who had claimed a crown soaked in steel and blood, but he was no fool. His wisdom was legendary across the continent. Such a man would not risk his kingdom for a moment of vanity.
No matter how he racked his brain, no answer came. He even began to wonder if his premise was wrong. After much deliberation, Edan Rhapsody reached a chilling conclusion.
Unless he intends to conquer the Six Free Cities, there’s no reason for this.
Conquest. That was the only thing that made sense.
If the Iron Prince used this incident as a pretext to swallow the Six Free Cities whole, he would be hailed as a hero. The fundamental resource problems of the Iron Kingdom would be solved, and it would serve as the ultimate achievement for a prince who had yet to claim a grand military feat.
But that was impossible. The Six Free Cities were a natural fortress. To invade them, one needed a fleet capable of dominating the seas. You had to win the naval battle just to make a landing—and the naval power of the Six Free Cities was among the top three in the world. No matter how powerful the Steel Legion was, their might only mattered once their boots hit the shore. Furthermore, Rhapsody was there. They were the masters of the Sword of the Sea, led by a Great Swordmaster. The hypothesis fell apart.
Unless, suddenly, his father left his post.
Father… leaving his post…?
The moment the thought occurred, Edan’s eyes shook. The Lord of the Six Free Cities, the head of Rhapsody, must never leave his post. That was the foundation of the citizens’ loyalty. Their master had to be there to guard against any unforeseen threat. That was the sacred duty of the Rhapsody patriarch.
But what kind of man was Hugo Rhapsody?
He was a man who would trade the world for his son. He was a man who would abandon any duty and come running if his child was in danger. The Six Free Cities had enjoyed a century of peace. No one would expect a sudden strike against a city that had been tranquil for so long. Even a Swordmaster couldn’t predict the unpredictable. If the label of a father blinded by worry were attached, his reason would be further clouded….
Oh no.
Edan Rhapsody felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
He had mobilized a massive force and come here for revenge. Most of the Legion of Freedom, the pride of Rhapsody, was here with him. He had brought the elite to flaunt their power, yet he hadn’t worried because the great Hugo Rhapsody remained behind.
But what if Hugo Rhapsody left? The Six Free Cities would be left wide open. If the Steel Legion landed in a city where the Legion of Freedom was absent, the Patriarch was absent, and the heir was absent? There could only be one result. A slaughter.
Damn it.
If it was conquest… if war was what the Iron Prince wanted, every piece of the puzzle fit. Edan’s eyes trembled. He stood up abruptly and rushed toward his knights. Strangely, the expressions of the men, who had been dejected moments ago, were now beaming. Edan asked them why they were so cheerful.
“The Family Head is coming,” one replied. “He said he would settle this farce and reclaim our honor. Everything will be reversed now. That lowly fighter and those Watchers of the White family who act so high and mighty—they will all be reminded of Rhapsody’s greatness!”
Watching their joy, Edan felt like he was losing his mind. In a daze, he asked, “Isn’t Father’s coming a violation of his duty? Shouldn’t he be protecting the Six Free Cities? If Father comes here, who will protect our home?”
The knights looked at him with genuine confusion.
“Why would a war suddenly break out? The Free Cities have been peaceful for over a hundred years.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry too much, Young Master. It’s just the stress of everything happening at once. Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
The knights spoke with carefree smiles.
“Even if a war were to break out, it’s fine. Who could possibly break through our Free Fleet? You have nothing to worry about.”
Yes. The knights were right. The naval power of the Six Free Cities was not something that could be easily breached—especially not by the Iron Kingdom. Only the Sky Empire and the Black Archipelago possessed fleets that could rival them.
But for some reason, Edan Rhapsody could not shake the dread. A chill kept crawling down his spine.
*
“Iron Prince, as you predicted, Hugo Rhapsody has moved. It is truly remarkable. To foresee exactly how a Swordmaster would act…”
“There is nothing to be surprised about. It was the only natural outcome.”
“Shall we act as promised?”
“Yes. Move out with the Steel Legion.”
“As you command.”
Silence fell. In the cold quiet, the voices of the two men faded. As the conversation ended, Iron Prince Ian Chervil walked forward with a hollow expression. His steps stopped in front of a jagged, rising throne.
The Sword Throne. A seat forged from blades, symbolizing the monarch of the Iron Kingdom Chervil.
The greatest seat in this Kingdom of Steel was currently stained crimson. Ian Chervil looked at the middle-aged man slumped upon it. The man’s body was drenched in blood, and his wide-open eyes were devoid of light. He had been dead for some time; his skin had already turned a deathly, ashen pale. Ian Chervil looked at the man’s dried lips and then at the crown resting on his gray hair.
“Step down now.”
The middle-aged man was the King. Ian Chervil’s father.
He had met a peaceful death, but not an honorable one. A father slain by his own son’s blade. Even in the afterlife, he would find no rest. Ian Chervil’s face remained stoic as he gazed at the man he had murdered. He felt no guilt, no violation of filial piety. Hadn’t his father always found the weight of the crown a burden? Ian Chervil believed he was simply doing what was necessary.
“This seat never suited you, Father.”
Ian Chervil reached out and took the crown from his father’s head. The Iron Prince placed the blood-soaked gold upon his own brow. Red droplets ran down his cheek. Unfazed, he pushed his father’s corpse off the throne. With a dull thud, the cold body collapsed onto the stone floor.
In the vacated throne, a young man now sat. The last prince, who had killed his siblings and finally the parents who gave him life, had finally become the Monarch.
Feeling the warmth of the fresh blood, Ian Chervil surveyed the hall. From this height, the entire Steel Palace could be seen at a glance. It was the ultimate vantage point of authority. Ian Chervil looked down and smiled thinly at the vassals who had fallen into a terrified silence. They didn’t even dare look at their former king, whose tongue protruded in a gruesome final grimace. The sight of the dead King inspired an inexplicable, primal fear.
Amidst the silence, Ian Chervil spoke.
“Keep my father’s death a secret. No one must know until I decree it. If this fact leaks, I will kill everyone in this room. I won’t bother searching for the traitor. I will kill everyone who breathed the air in this palace, I will wipe out their bloodlines, and I will execute every single person who has ever spoken a word to them. If you’re curious, feel free to test me.”
His voice was dry, but no one doubted him. Ian Chervil was a man of his word. Sitting on the Sword Throne, he looked at the General and commanded:
“Prepare for departure.”
“…To where, sire?”
“To the Six Free Cities.”
The General’s breath hitched.
“The Six Free Cities are impossible for the Steel Legion to conquer, sire. It is a place protected by Rhapsody’s sword, and their naval power is unmatched. The Steel Legion will be annihilated before they even sight land. Even if they manage to disembark, the Swordmaster will cut us down. Please, I beg you to reconsider.”
The General’s words were bold, born of genuine concern. Ian Chervil laughed. He liked the man; he was a decent human being who felt fear yet did not falter in his duty. He decided to graciously explain the reality to the mortal.
“Hugo Rhapsody has left his post. The Legion of Freedom that protects the city has followed him.”
“Even so, we cannot break through their fleet—”
“Do not worry. Others will take care of the sea.”
With that, Ian Chervil gave a slight nod. The man who had been speaking to him earlier slowly stood up. As he straightened his back, a sickening ‘creaking’ sound echoed through the hall. The polymorph magic hiding his true form shattered.
The man’s identity, hidden beneath human skin, was revealed. First, scales erupted—scales that no arrow or blade on the continent could pierce. Then, sharp horns tore through his brow, followed by the unfurling of massive, leathery wings. As the wings cast a shadow over the entire hall, golden eyes ignited with ancient power.
The vassals stared, paralyzed. He was no longer a man. Everyone knew the name of such a being. They knew what the world called it.
“The Master of the Sky will be with you,” Ian Chervil said. “A Dragon.”
He leaned back into the blades of his throne.
“So, do not doubt. There is nothing your new King cannot do.”
The whirlpool had begun. Beyond the Iron Kingdom, it was starting to swallow the continent whole.
