Blake discovered those standing at the main entrance of the Therios Church.

The blonde hair of the one pushing back their hood shone, reflecting the moonlight.

It contrasted with the droplets of blood spattered on the face beneath.

He, atop a pitch-black horse, looked like a statue from the temple.

His gaze, moving slowly, met Blake’s. His blue eyes, moving in midair, seemed to be engulfed by emptiness, turning grayish.

Blake’s eyes creased at the sight of Damian, who looked like a moving corpse. He was in worse condition than right after his elder sister had collapsed.

Blake, who had driven his horse to Damian’s front in one breath, glared at the church reeking of blood.

“Have you gone mad? If you want to go mad, do it properly. Even if you lose your mind… If you’re going to lose it like this, you’d be helping by just staying cooped up in your room.”

Blake extended his arm and immediately grabbed Damian’s collar.

Damian, his hood collar seized, leaned forward by Blake’s grip.

However, Damian showed little reaction to Blake’s rudeness.

Blake bit his lower lip as he faced Damian’s clouded eyes.

“Don’t you know you can’t escape punishment if you kill like this? Can’t you judge?”

Blake shouted while shaking Damian’s collar violently, but Damian said nothing.

Charles, who had been watching anxiously beside them, restrained Blake’s hand.

“I understand the young viscount’s concerns, but we’ve already received evidence from the imperial investigator.”

Charles intervened. However, Blake’s anger did not subside.

He barely let go of Damian’s collar, but upon hearing Charles’s words, Blake’s neck veins bulged.

“Evidence? Imperial investigator? …Ha. Why? Are you still the emperor’s dog? Did you put a leash around your neck? You believe that?”

Blake, roughly rubbing his face, squinted one eye.

“If elder sister wakes up, even she might be sentenced under the name of Genova. Do you know that?”

“Please take care of the child.”

“…What?”

“I hope you haven’t forgotten the promise made just before the hunt.”

Damian, pulling his hood back over, spurred his horse.

Charles glanced at Damian, bowed his head to Blake, then followed him.

Blake squeezed his eyes shut and ruffled his hair.

His brother-in-law was trying to bear everything alone.

Since failure meant death, he needed someone alive, and Blake was designated as that person.

He glanced at the church. It would be tomorrow morning at the earliest, no later than tomorrow at the latest.

The emperor would summon Damian, who had done this to the church. Despite the evidence given by the imperial investigator.

Too laughable to even call it a trap.

The emperor had confirmed Damian’s choice.

*

“My lord. Perhaps the young viscount doesn’t know…”

“Charles.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Damian, who had momentarily halted his horse at the bridge leading into the ducal residence, turned his head towards Charles.

“He knows too.”

“…Pardon?”

Charles flinched, seemingly surprised.

“Don’t worry. He knows what role he’s been assigned. Let’s go in for today. Good work.”

“Yes, understood.”

Charles didn’t ask further and pulled on his horse’s reins.

Damian, after confirming Charles’s departure, galloped towards the ducal residence.

Not much longer now.

“…Welcome back, my lord.”

Damian nodded and handed his coat to the butler.

He had turned the church completely upside down. He had cut and cut again until not even a single small fry remained.

Fearing that a spark of revenge might be left, he had extinguished even the seeds completely.

The child and wife had neither the responsibility to bear such sparks nor the ability to endure them.

…Just a little more and it would be done.

When Eriel wakes up, it will be a safe world. If it becomes a world where it’s alright for her to open her eyes, wouldn’t she wake up?

Damian began climbing the stairs.

Duke Farnese had also agreed to support this side’s affairs.

For him, supporting Damian’s work was a far more stable choice than backing Count Shannon.

How pleased must he be that the leader of the imperial faction had declared he would shake things up on his own?

Now it had truly become a situation where they could aim for the rise of the noble faction.

Damian smiled bitterly.

If anything, it was fortunate that Duke Farnese was someone who staked his life on noble honor, neither enemy nor ally.

The footsteps of the butler who had received his coat in the hall faded away. Amidst complete silence, Damian halted his steps.

He suddenly raised his head, thinking he heard the voices of Eriel and Lucy conversing.

Lucy’s burst of laughter along with Eriel’s seemingly flustered voice.

“Lucy, shall we read a storybook with mommy?”

“No. Mommy, I’m going to read this today.”

Damian, who had been standing still, unknowingly moved towards Lucy’s room.

Moving as if possessed, Damian realized only when he stood in front of Lucy’s room door that a pitch-black silence was enveloping him, with nothing to be heard.

Damian, who had placed his hand on the doorknob, lowered it.

“Just a little more and it’ll be done.”

Damian muttered softly as he turned away.

*

Today too, Eriel did not wake up.

The physician shook his head, and Damian stood quietly, gazing at her tightly closed eyes.

Looking at Eriel’s peacefully sleeping face, it seemed as if she might speak to Damian at any moment.

It felt like her gentle voice would lazily call his name and ask him what was wrong.

However, no matter how long Damian waited by Eriel’s side, he could not hear her voice. There was only a deep silence.

Because of this, Damian would wake up even while sleeping to check her breathing and pulse.

Alternating between relief and renewed fear.

The worry that her breath might cease like this strangled him.

It was truly an unbearable thing, and he had no idea what to do.

Eriel leaving him behind and disappearing.

It was something he had never even imagined.

“It’s the first time I’ve encountered a problem without an answer… What should I do? Do you know?”

Asking questions and inquiring after someone who doesn’t answer. Waiting for someone who might never return. It’s this hard even with her right before his eyes…

“Eriel, how on earth did you endure it?”

He remembered the numerous letters from Eriel piled on the table in his camp.

Eriel had sent letters, and Damian had not replied to her communications.

In truth, he hadn’t had the capacity to send replies. It was only because he was Damian that the letters even reached him.

A considerable number of knights couldn’t even convey whether they were alive or dead to the empire.

At least Charles had looked after Eriel while replying to his own parents once a year.

War required giving up countless things. Fundamentally, one had to refuse being human to survive.

Yes, it wasn’t a problem that could be solved by anticipation or preparation.

He had been witnessing people die constantly since he was six years old.

The previous duke, preparing for the war of conquest, had taught such things to Damian, the heir, from that age.

He also taught how to politically utilize people’s lives. However, he had never seen so many lives die so cruelly as in war.

On the battlefield, dying was rather a form of rest. Being alive was a greater agony than that.

Wounds that couldn’t be treated in time swarmed with maggots, causing a terrible stench.

There were times when they had to pass through such pits of corpses for tactical reasons.

There were fierce battles where corpses, indistinguishable as human or animal, rolled about the fields in great numbers.

It made one wonder if being alive was truly being alive.

It was hell.

The boundary between the living and the dead, where droplets of blood always filled one’s vision.

Many of his subordinates would often wake up screaming during sleep.

The life expectancy of knights who screamed due to sleep disorders was at most a month. Their lives were not long.

It wasn’t because they were injured, nor because they particularly lacked physical strength.

Mental deterioration gnawed at people until it brought about their downfall.

He realized it before a month had passed.

That someone was needed to firmly hold the center.

Erasing emotions and focusing only on what needed to be done.

Despite having undergone such long training before coming to the battlefield, even Damian found it difficult to endure.

However, all the numerous knights had to endure without fail.

If they ended the war of conquest halfheartedly, it was clear they wouldn’t be able to overcome the rebellion of surrounding countries.

He judged people’s lives solely by numbers.

He did not fear throwing his own body to the forefront of the battlefield to spare the lives of his subordinates.

“Damian.”

Eriel’s voice calling him sounded vivid.

It was only Eriel who had preserved his heart, his humanity, everything he thought had been devastated.

So I would gladly exchange my life for it.

If you would wake up, I would exchange everything for it.

Even if I have to stain my sword with more blood, even if it costs me my life in doing so.