SYMDF 41

Chapter 41

 

The largest building in the village was, in the end, the manor of Lord Camillus. To celebrate the success of their recent hunt, the entire estate was opened to the villagers, who flocked inside, creating a lively atmosphere. Fires were lit in many places, carrying the scents of cooking food.

Camillus lingered among those offering thanks and silly jokes for a while before eventually slipping away to the rooftop.

Only after the voices of the crowd faded did Camillus find a moment’s respite. He tilted the cup in his hand, gazing upward at the softly glowing blue magical barrier encircling the castle of Iodin.

He had designed it by imitating the Imperial Palace’s barrier and adding several features of his own desire.

The complex magical array took years to devise and demanded an enormous amount of mana to maintain. Yet thanks to the barrier, even in his absence, the castle of Iodin would remain a safe haven.

From this, Camillus concluded that his mutated body had finally transcended the natural limits of humanity—something he considered fortunate regardless of how others might see it.

Mutant or monster, such labels mattered little to him.

Quietly, he muttered to someone absent from his side.

“So I was given a chance… I have no regrets.”

“Who are you speaking to?”

Suddenly, the voice startled him and he snapped his head around. His lieutenant Pedro stepped into view and sat beside him.

Pedro held a bottle of wine. With a clink, he tapped the bottle’s mouth against Camillus’s cup rim and smiled slyly.

“You seemed restless, so I followed.”

Watching Pedro blowing air through the bottle, Camillus scolded him.

“When someone’s tense, don’t you think it’s better to leave them alone, sir?”

Though Pedro was a subordinate, the age gap between them was more like uncle and nephew. The sudden “sir” made Pedro chuckle awkwardly.

“No, my lord. Here, no one has family. When I am troubled, only talking to someone eases my mind.”

Camillus shook his head with a grin. Pedro looked at him with genuine affection, like a nephew watching his uncle.

“Stop looking at me like that and spit it out.”

“Are you troubled because His Majesty is coming?”

“I can’t say I’m not.”

“That’s about 90% influence, then.”

Pedro smiled, interpreting strangely. Camillus looked at him in disbelief.

“Uncles are just like that? Aging brings this out in all?”

“Not at all! I am special. I always worry about Your Grace.”

“Have you forgotten your duty? You were sent to watch me in the capital.”

“Bringing up old times is cowardly.”

“Very well, understood.”

Resolving to stop the failed jokes, Camillus gazed down, spotting a knight laughing with his family in the estate’s sprawling garden.

Among the knights assigned to watch him by the Emperor eight years ago, some had come with their families, despite the arduous journey to Iodin.

Since there was no promise of return, the Emperor’s decision was regarded as a concession—whether for the knights or for himself was unclear now.

Looking at the scene with some envy, Camillus said to Pedro,

“Yes, you left family behind in the capital. When His Majesty passes, you shall return.”

Pedro took a sip of wine and smiled with surprise.

“What do you mean? Where would I go leaving Your Grace?”

“I keep saying, I’m no longer a mere child of sixteen.”

Speaking abruptly, Camillus recalled a certain day when Pedro first embraced him.

At that time, exiled by blood ties and unable to know Ion’s fate, Camillus lived every day deeply watched and wondered if he would lose his mind. Pedro was the one who grieved most for him.

Once, Pedro had cradled a child torn apart by monsters right before Camillus’s eyes, sobbing in despair over his powerlessness while whispering softly,

〈It’s okay. Yes, it’s okay, child. This uncle will protect you now. …You have no guilt. None at all.〉

Having spoken those words, Pedro cared for Camillus like a son, and soon other knights began to open their hearts as well.

In a way, Pedro gave Camillus a family. Yet even knowing his strength firsthand, Pedro still regarded him as a child.

“You still seem uneasy to me. And you’ve yet to marry.”

“Marry?”

Camillus raised his eyebrows at the unexpected topic.

“Are you seriously bringing that up now?”

As if expected, Pedro bowed deeply.

“Ah, yes, I recall now that you owe your faithfulness to one and cannot marry. Who in the capital is that? Name them so I may abduct them if needed.”

Ion Craiger.

The name was still unspoken aloud, but Camillus repeated it silently. Receiving no answer, Pedro nudged him.

“My lord?”

Camillus waved the question away with a faint smile.

“The important thing is that we return to the capital.”

“And what about Your Grace? Will you truly send only us back?”

“Of course I will go too.”

Pedro appeared surprised. The new seriousness caused his face to shadow.

“Forgive me for saying this, but…”

“Speak freely before me.”

“I heard His Majesty’s health is seriously declining. Rumors say Crown Prince Vernian will soon begin to rule as regent. Won’t this make your return even harder?”

The suspicion that Vernian’s rise would bar Camillus from the capital was more than just rumor.

The Emperor was on the brink of death; he was not strong enough to endure Iodin’s harsh climate. The journey there would be difficult, but the return even more so.

Yet Camillus completely rejected these concerns.

“That won’t happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“His regency and my exile—neither will occur.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Pedro eyed him skeptically. Camillus smiled bitterly, half amused. He swirled the nearly finished wine and swallowed slowly.

“There are things in this world you cannot change.”

“…?”

“Like fate.”

He gazed skyward. Though every day the Iodin winds blew, the barrier around his castle always brought peace.

At least here, I want to give you peace.

Wishing to free Ion from the looming shadow of death, Camillus was willing to risk everything—his life, all he had—for the boy’s future.

“There is only one thing I want to change. Nothing else matters.”

Pedro teased,

“That makes no sense.”

Camillus laughed faintly, deflating.

“If you don’t understand, just remember one thing. We will soon return to the capital.”

“When we do, will we meet the one You carry in your heart?”

“We shall.”

“Who is that?”

Camillus did not hesitate.

“My salvation.”

“That sounds grandiose.”

“Then how about this?”

“Tell me. I am listening.”

The word that followed was one Camillus had never spoken aloud.

“First love.”