Tiendavis - For Perfect Salvation - Chapter 34

For the glory of Laurel.

That proud boy liked this phrase.

The great and noble Laurel, the sole master of Tiendavis.

As the master of this world, Laurel bears infinite rights and responsibilities, and to fulfill that duty, destroys evil, cares for the weak, and establishes justice.

Having deeply engraved such brilliance of Laurel in his bones, the boy had no complaints about shouldering this lofty duty.

Moreover, he liked the title that would soon be given to him.

The one who drops dragons, or the one who prevents calamities, or the watcher of the border.

This was the story of Sion when he was just seventeen years old.

His height and build were already larger than most adults, but his face was still full of youthfulness.

However, Sion, who had inherited the title of count yesterday, seemed unwilling to admit that he was a minor.

Judging by how calmly he was accepting his farewell to his family before heading to the border.

The Duke of Laurel called his son before meeting with the daughter of Tardes.

“Sion.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Give me one item to remember you by. I’ll return it when you come back from your first battle.”

Sion was inwardly taken aback by his father’s request.

It felt awkward for his straightforward father to say such sentimental things.

So Sion, newly realizing that he was leaving home, pondered what would be appropriate.

After brief consideration, the boy removed the cufflink from his right sleeve.

Crafted from platinum and sapphire, it was something he had newly fitted when receiving his count title.

Sion handed over one of them to his father without hesitation, and the duke received his son’s item with a bitter smile.

This made Sion, who had been fine until now, feel a bit strange as well.

But he didn’t show it.

It was because of his half-brother, who was already depressed as if a pillar of the world had collapsed.

Standing next to the duke was Sion’s half-brother, Hardin Laurel.

Although Sion and Hardin had different mothers, they were surprisingly alike. Moreover, they were closer than most full brothers.

Hardin Laurel, the legitimate son and elder brother, was a sensitive boy who deeply cared for his people, while Sion Laurel, the illegitimate son and younger brother, was a villain who shamelessly manipulated such a brother.

So while people on the duchess’s side were aghast whenever these half-brothers played together, they were, in their own way, affectionate siblings.

Sion glanced at his brother’s gloomy face and, while their father had gone to talk with someone else, gave him a solid kick.

“Are you attending a funeral?”

“Hey…!”

“You should use honorifics. I’m a count now.”

Hardin’s face contorted at his brother’s nonchalant voice.

Usually, he would have laughed foolishly at such incredible impudence, but today he couldn’t even force a smile.

Right now, he was struggling to swallow the words lingering in his mouth.

I wish you wouldn’t go to the border.

I’m afraid you’ll change like uncle.

I don’t want to part from you.

Hardin forcibly suppressed these weak thoughts, recalling his duty as the duke’s heir.

Sion clicked his tongue briefly, looking at his pathetic brother. Then he removed the remaining cufflink from his left sleeve and tossed it.

“You keep this too.”

“Huh?”

Hardin caught what his brother threw in surprise and looked at him in astonishment. Then Sion said gruffly.

“Give it back when I retire.”

Sion turned away after saying that, and only then did Hardin smile weakly.

To Hardin, Sion was an unbeatable brother, friend, and object of admiration.

Sion was strong. Composed, bold, and proud to the point of arrogance.

Hardin thought there could be no Laurel more Laurel-like than him, and loved rather than envied him who was as dazzling as the sun.

Sion, too, was well aware of his own brilliance.

So he willingly accepted the fate of having to go to the border.

Acknowledging that this was his duty,

With the cocky thought that only he could handle it,

For the glory of Laurel, his foundation and pride.

.

.

.

But two years later.

Sion, having completely lost both his pride and dignity, was vividly recalling that moment of parting with his brother as if it were just yesterday.

It was right after the sixteenth engagement with Amanasere.

Standing in the middle of the border, Sion realized amidst the swirling chaos that something had gone terribly wrong.

It felt like it had been just a few days since he had greeted his father and brother and left Laurel Duke’s castle.

It felt like he had woken up from a very long dream.

He remembered everything that had happened over the past two years. But it felt unfamiliar, like someone else’s experience.

As Sion was dazedly recalling his memories, a cold sensation brushed against his side.

Sion reflexively reached out his hand, then was startled by the slippery sensation.

An overflowing amount of blood was stickily wetting his palm.

What is this? Why am I so injured? When did I…

The moment he realized he was covered in blood, the pain that had been in suspension suddenly overwhelmed him.

“Ah, aagh…!”

His whole body felt like it was being torn apart.

The sensation that had been dormant until now awoke, cruelly licking his entire body.

Unable to bear it, Sion screamed like a beast.

Even that was nothing more than a groan, too hoarse to be a scream.

He felt like he was dying. No, it wouldn’t have been strange if he was already dead.

The injuries he had casually brushed off over the past two years flashed through his mind.

He had blocked Amanasere with his whole body, desperately recovered while it slept, and then returned to the battlefield again.

Like a stuffed doll becoming a dog’s toy, bursting and being sewn up repeatedly.

So Sion wondered, as he buried his head on the ground and wailed.

How am I still alive?

Being so thoroughly crushed and torn apart, how am I still alive…

As shock added to the pain, he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

His breathing was rapid, but he couldn’t inhale air, and eventually his vision began to flicker black.

“Calm down and breathe.”

At that moment, someone lifted Sion up and forcibly opened his mouth. Then they supported his chin to help him breathe.

Sion managed to breathe again, and his darkening vision soon recovered.

Having barely calmed down, Sion looked at the person who had lifted him.

It was a tall man wearing a black hood.

“Who are you…”

In response to Sion’s question, the man pulled back his hood.

And Sion felt pain that seemed like he would collapse once again.

.

.

.

On the day Sion met the astrologer, he was freed from the curse.

And noticing that the curse had been broken, the duke came to see him the very next day.

“You’ve come?”

In the commander-in-chief’s office of Tardes Hall, Sion addressed his father.

At that time, he was sitting with his legs crossed like a lion that had claimed the throne.

So the duke groaned with a face that looked like it might crumble.

“What happened, why…”

“Why am I in my right mind, is that what you’re asking?”

The son intercepted his father’s question. Then he added with a cold smile.

“Make your excuses first. Before I lose the will to listen.”

Sion’s eyes were quietly rippling as he asked this.

The duke’s knees trembled at that cold anger.

Even as a child, Sion had been a difficult son to handle. A rebellious son who was too excellent, stubborn, and willful. A pure-blooded Laurel who had strongly inherited the temperament of a ruler.

Now that such a son had gained the power to confront dragons and was showing killing intent, the duke became unbearably afraid.

“…I didn’t want to make you like that either.”

So he pleaded, abandoning both the authority of a duke and the dignity of a father.

“But it was the family’s destiny, and my unavoidable duty. It’s the Laurel way to endure sacrifices unavoidably to prevent calamity…”

“Really?”

Sion cut off his father’s words in a bright voice.

Then he asked as if it were utterly ridiculous.

“Is it really unavoidable? I don’t think so?”

Unlike the grand pretense of preventing calamity, what the Laurel counts, including Sion, had been doing until now was a miserable dogfight with no strategy or tactics, relying only on their bodies.

Laurel wasn’t some insignificant family that survived by throwing in one grown son, and if there was will, they could have found much better methods.

Yet to gloss this over with words like destiny and duty.

Sion coldly mocked his father, who was not just irresponsible but careless.

“It’s not that there’s no method, but that you need to monopolize this role, right?”

The one and only guardian of the continent. The noble Laurel standing against calamity.

What a great illusion, and how cheap a deception.

All that was needed to handle the world like this was one son.

Even then, unwilling to use the legitimate child, he went and made one outside.

When I was young, I wondered why Father, who cherished the duchess so much, made such a mistake, but was even this out of extreme love?

Sion’s mood plummeted to rock bottom at the disgusting true face of his family.

And Sion didn’t hide it.

He was barely holding back from wanting to smash everything already, and had no intention of showing any more mercy to his birth father who had thoroughly deceived and used him.

Moreover, as disgusting as it was, Sion too was a nobleman.

He was also accustomed to making choices like a ruler to maintain power. So he understood this damned situation in a way.

Because he understood, he waited.

To hear what excuses his birth father would make.

To take what could be taken and discard what should be discarded, then restructure this slaughterhouse-like border.

Of course, only after clearing away his puppet role and completely wresting control from his birth father.

But just as Sion wasn’t such a good son, Sion’s father wasn’t a good father at all.

The duke staggered to the window, seemingly suffocating.

Sion remained seated, watching this scene, and the duke’s eyes grew even more gloomy at his son’s coldness and arrogance.

As befitting the commander-in-chief’s room, the view was good.

Above, the valley blocking the border formed a spectacular view, and below, it was just the right height.

The duke, reassured by this fact, said.

“Forgive me, Sion. Please let this appease your heart.”

With those final words, he jumped to his death in front of his son.

.

.

.

That’s how the previous Duke of Laurel died instantly.

Fortunately, Sion didn’t arouse any unnecessary suspicion.

Whether he came with this purpose from the start, a suicide note was found in the duke’s study.

It was a note filled with appropriate excuses, without any mention of the curse or border surveillance, so the duke’s visit to the hall was packaged as his desire to see his son’s face one last time.

Though he was the worst father, getting worse and worse, there was one thing to be grateful for.

That he left no room for Sion to suffer from guilt.

When the duke fell, the vice commander rushed to Sion’s room.

He naturally asked about the circumstances, and Sion tried to answer amidst the shock, only to receive another shock.

He couldn’t speak.

He tried to explain the situation, but couldn’t form words.

Writing was also impossible. Even trying to speak indirectly, the moment he intended to inform others of this fact, everything was blocked.

So Sion realized.

That a new curse had been placed on him.

That his thoughtful father had kindly allowed him to despise him freely.

It was truly something Sion was insanely grateful for.

It’s been five years since he was muzzled like that, unable to do anything.

Sion, with his chin resting on his shabby desk, recalled Ibi’s words from last night.

―So I’m guessing that the curse the Count has now is one that prevents him from revealing secrets.

It was chilling to think about it again.

To have figured that out, the very thing that had made him grind his teeth alone, wanting to tell but unable to all this time.

So Sion had to revise his assessment of Ibi once again.

His first impression of Ibi was just a pretty fool, and after she revealed her true nature, a cunning opportunist.

But now…

Sion, who had been anxiously glancing out the window, suddenly stood up from his seat.

He saw a girl walking in the distance, bathed in sunlight.

It was Ibi Ariate, whom he had been waiting for since early dawn.