As Dietrich Calypso stepped out of the mansion, blinding sunlight shone upon him.

Dietrich quickly surveyed his surroundings.

There was no way to escape.

An army led by Ileon Gredrick had completely surrounded Dietrich’s estate.

The knights clad in pitch-black armor all wore helmets, making their faces impossible to distinguish.

Blood dripped steadily from the swords in their hands, suggesting they had slaughtered the imperial knights mercilessly on their way here.

“I was wondering when you’d come out. You’re late.”

Ileon, the only one dressed in pure white armor, sneered at Dietrich.

Dietrich slowly closed and opened his eyes, placing a hand on the sword at his waist.

“…Did you kill all my knights in the palace?”

“Our esteemed Imperial Knight Commander seems deeply offended by killing dogs who can’t even recognize their master.”

Ileon laughed mockingly at Dietrich, but Dietrich only stared back with a calm expression.

“It’s not just the palace knights under your command I’ve killed. Palace maids, servants—every single one of them is dead.”

“……”

“Oh, but one man—I spared the life of the knight who came to report this to you.”

For some reason, Ileon smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Be grateful. I personally dealt with the people of Viscount Brillion’s household.”

“…If you had an army this large, there’s no way I wouldn’t have known.”

Dietrich’s red eyes carefully scanned the black-armored legion wearing helmets.

Not a trace of life could be felt from the knights.

They looked like corpses brought back to motion.

“What in the world have you done?”

Ileon did not answer Dietrich’s question.

“What are you waiting for? Tear him apart and kill him now.”

Ileon’s order to execute Dietrich fell from his lips.

The knights, who had been standing still, suddenly charged at Dietrich like lightning.

Dietrich drew his sword and stood alone against the knights rushing toward him.

Clang! Clang!

The sound of clashing blades rang out ceaselessly.

While he fought one, others lunged at him from behind as if waiting their turn.

Knowing he couldn’t defeat Dietrich in skill, Ileon overwhelmed him with sheer numbers.

Dietrich scoffed at Ileon’s cowardice.

“…Once I’ve cut down every last one of these, it’ll be your turn.”

Dietrich’s sword mercilessly felled the knights.

Ileon watched Dietrich, lifting the corner of his mouth into a relaxed smile.

At the same moment Dietrich furrowed his brow, something unbelievable unfolded before his eyes.

The knights he had clearly killed rose back up, perfectly intact, gripping their swords once more.

Dietrich sensed something was wrong. He had already found it strange that no blood came out when he cut them.

He swiftly ripped off the helmet of a knight he had just slain.

The helmet rolled onto the dirt, revealing the knight’s bare face.

“!”

Dietrich’s eyes widened as he saw the knight’s face.

The knight had no face.

Instead, like a flickering shadow, a mass of black ash stood inside the armor, pretending to be a knight.

Dietrich realized it.

What he had been cutting down until now was not living people.

“The Lord says: to those who believe in Him, He lends His power. Just as He does for me now.”

Ileon’s pale eyes gleamed with madness as he stood with the dark army behind him.

Dietrich knew better than anyone that Ileon was a fanatic believer in prophecies.

Hadn’t both he and Celia Brillion suffered because of that cursed prophecy?

“Is it truly a god who demands human lives in exchange for glimpses of the future? Or is it a demon pretending to be divine?”

At Dietrich’s words, Ileon’s pupils turned cold.

Dietrich continued speaking as he cut down knights rising like zombies to attack him.

“Tell me. What did you offer that demon in exchange for such an army?”

“……”

Dietrich parried the swords of the knights lunging at him.

“Did you offer even your own precious life as the price?”

Ileon’s pupils trembled ever so slightly.

Dietrich knew the answer—he had just spoken it aloud, and it was correct.

“Daring to insult the god I believe in by calling Him a demon?”

Ileon drew his sword and charged at Dietrich.

Dietrich, whose swordsmanship had been honed to the extreme, knew Ileon was no match for him.

Yet surprisingly, Ileon, who should have been instantly defeated if the claim of divine power were false, managed to exchange several blows with him.

One-on-one, perhaps, but fighting against many—especially an undying army and Ileon together—was simply too much, even for Dietrich.

“You should have listened when I spoke kindly. If you had handed over the princess, you wouldn’t have to face such a pitiful end.”

At Ileon’s words, raising his chin arrogantly, Dietrich’s gaze instantly turned vicious.

“Never speak the princess’s name with your filthy mouth.”

Ileon’s laughter rang out loudly.

“Kill you, cleanse Abelon entirely, and place the princess by my side. Even if she’s from a fallen kingdom, her lineage is decent enough—people won’t oppose it too much.”

At Ileon’s words, Dietrich’s eyes gained a murderous intent so intense it could tear someone apart.

The terrifying killing intent was so strong that even the formless legion hesitated momentarily.

Dietrich slashed his sword at Ileon like lightning.

Clang!

The swords of the furious Dietrich and the calmly smiling Ileon clashed.

Ileon’s lips slowly parted.

“Wasn’t your mother’s last wish something like this? ‘Do not seek revenge. Only think of living happily.'”

Dietrich’s eyes filled with shock.

“You are not alone. I will watch over you from the heavens. My beloved son, Kyle.”

Dietrich’s hand gripping the sword trembled violently.

The words Ileon spoke matched his mother’s dying words exactly, not a single syllable off.

Dietrich had never revealed his true name to anyone.

Not even to Anderson, not even to Celia Brillion.

He knew Celia was curious about his past.

Yet he had remained silent, vowing that once everything surrounding him was over, he would tell her the truth.

“You were born from the second queen, who never received the duke’s love—a tragic prince of Inata Duchy. Isn’t that your true origin?”

Ileon drove the final nail. He read the emotions flickering across Dietrich’s face.

“Well now. So you are capable of feeling shock after all.”

Ileon laughed out loud, delighted.

“The moment you hesitated, you lost to me.”

Dietrich gripped his sword again to face the knights attacking him.

But his sword arm would not obey.

The shock of hearing his hidden past—something he had never told anyone—spoken by Ileon was too overwhelming.

The image of his mother, joyfully boasting that the king of Shan Kingdom had chosen him, a boy with nothing but healing ability, to be the official fiancé of Princess Anastasia, flashed through Dietrich’s mind.

The memory of his mother, who had gained the duke’s fleeting favor, weeping with joy, and laughing like a young girl while listing facts about Princess Anastasia, pierced Dietrich’s heart.

“Princess Asha has silver hair that sparkles like stars. The parrot the king gave her for her birthday is named Popo. It’s a red parrot, but oddly has a yellow spot on its chest.”

Dietrich used to listen with indifference as his mother chattered on.

“Remember this well. Knowing about the one you’ll marry will keep you from being hated.”

Unlike the first queen’s magnificent palace, the small detached palace was where he and his mother lived.

Though he never expressed it, Dietrich loved his mother.

His hair was as black as his duke father’s, but his eye color was neither his mother’s violet nor the duke’s deep blue.

The duke disliked Dietrich for his bright red eyes.

Though his mother might have resented him as the reason she lost the duke’s favor, she cherished Dietrich as the most precious thing in the world.

And so, Dietrich could not obey his mother’s final wish.

He concealed his identity, changed his name, and walked into Abelon’s imperial palace, enduring every humiliation.

Hiding his true self, he bowed low in the palace, patiently waiting for the day of revenge.

As he felt as though his heart was being ripped out while still alive, he looked ahead and saw Ileon grinning, teeth bared, watching him with his sword dropped from his hand.

Ileon’s blade pointed at Dietrich’s throat.

“I’ll send you back to your mother’s arms soon.”