Episode 215
There were those who walked beneath a sky of crystal, and those who tread upon a river of blood.
One man used his own flesh as a canvas, inscribing it densely with letters of blood.
“Do you really have to go that far?”
At that moment, the silent Black Duke spoke. A flutter of wings followed as a few night crows took flight behind him, ready to act if necessary.
“This isn’t your concern, Black Duke.”
Blocking the Black Duke’s path was another spectator, the pinnacle of the White Tower, Celestial Duke.
“This is a duel agreed upon by both parties, and as such, it is protected by the laws of the Empire.”
”…”
“Oh, I won’t stop you from joining the fray.”
The Blood Duke laughed, unfazed.
“After all, a war between all present for their respective lords wouldn’t be so bad.”
The Shadow Faction and the Golden Faction.
“No need for that, Black Duke.”
In the face of imminent conflict, it was the Grand Duke Lancaster, the Divine Sword, who stood in the Black Duke’s way.
“This is a burden I must bear alone.”
The sword in his hand shimmered with a pale, translucent light.
“I wanted to touch the sky.”
“Your Grace…”
The Divine Sword, a man truly worthy of the name Heavenly Sword, spoke, revealing his avatar.
He was a knight of the sky, clad in armor that shone like crystal, with wings like a bird’s. Yet, he was no angel.
Charlotte, standing beside Dale, swallowed hard.
“But my life was that of a prisoner, bound tightly by the chains and shackles of the earth.”
“Ho.”
“A noble of the Empire, a father to a son, one of the Seven Swords, but none of that means anything to me now. Only then did I realize—there was never any meaning to begin with.”
“Finally, you’ve grown up a bit.”
The Blood Duke laughed mockingly. His body was now so covered in writing that it seemed his skin had been entirely peeled away.
“It’s simply time for me to return to the sky.”
The Heavenly Sword spoke, and with the weight of those words, the Black Duke quietly stepped back. The cawing of crows behind him faded into silence.
Simultaneously, the river of blood beneath the Blood Duke began to ripple. The letters inscribed on his body spread across the river, continuing to write along its banks.
“I merely turn the wheel of history with blood, as I always have.”
The Blood Duke declared.
With those words, the Heavenly Sword launched himself from the ground, turning his back on the world of the sky. His sword swung along the river of blood towards the Blood Duke, who extended his arm in response.
The Empire’s greatest dark sorcerer displayed his power, igniting flames before all.
Yet, the Heavenly Sword’s blade cleaved through his body faster than the flames could bloom.
Slicing through flesh, the form crumbled, leaving no trace of what might have been a human body.
Blood splattered.
At the same time, the river of blood surged, forming a silhouette of a person, as if the previous attack had been a mere illusion, leaving no wounds.
Once more, the Heavenly Sword charged at the silhouette.
“There’s no need to preach the importance of history to those present here.”
But each time, the Blood Duke’s body shattered and reformed.
“The history of the earth is a history of war, and the history of war is a ‘record of blood.’”
It wasn’t just the history of one people. Even the other races that now ruled the continent, and the elves of the Second Empire, were no exception.
Like the Blood Elf standing before Dale.
As soon as he finished speaking, the Heavenly Sword struck again, but this time, the Blood Duke did not fall.
Clang!
A sword met his blade.
“The existence of mortals is as fleeting as a sandcastle. Yet, as long as history records them, their existence can finally grasp immortality.”
”…!”
The Heavenly Sword’s expression froze.
“Shall we return to the landscape of history?”
The Blood Duke smiled slyly. The river of blood was gone.
──It was a white, dark winter night.
And a mortal who should have long been dead stood before Grand Duke Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword.
The Divine Sword, Vadel Orhart.
“Now, it’s a distant past, over a dozen years ago.”
The Blood Duke laughed, standing behind the man.
“The defeat and fall of the Divine Sword to a hero from another world, marking the end of the Empire’s conquest, is recorded in history. Written in the blood they shed.”
Simultaneously, the letters inscribed on the Blood Duke’s skin began to writhe like living creatures. The script was not some unknown alien text.
It was the language of the Empire.
“In the Year XXX of the Third Empire, the Divine Sword Vadel Orhart was defeated by a hero from another world.”
The letters on his chest changed to:
“In the Year XXX of the Third Empire, the Divine Sword Vadel Orhart killed Grand Duke Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword.”
”……!”
The moment Dale understood the meaning, his blood ran cold.
History is a record of blood. The Blood Duke’s grimoire, the ‘Book of Blood,’ was…
The power to view and overwrite the record itself according to the sorcerer’s will.
The ability to extract and manipulate historical landscapes at will. It was nothing short of rewriting history.
Just as Dale’s father once overlaid the very concept of ‘death,’ the power this man wielded was no mere flame.
“As you know, history is written by the victors.”
The Blood Duke smiled coldly. A history of blood, recorded by the victor spilling the loser’s blood.
He who controls the past controls the future.
He who controls the present controls the past.
A nightmarish past, one Dale wished to forget, was being manipulated and displayed at the Blood Duke’s whim.
Once, the closest friend of Grand Duke Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword, and the greatest swordsman of the continent.
And Charlotte’s father.
“Father…!”
The specter of history, the Divine Sword Vadel Orhart, swung his blade.
It wasn’t even a ghost of the past. It was not the ‘truth’ Dale knew.
A false creation, a manipulated record of blood, serving as a false champion loyal to the Golden Lord.
“Stay focused, Charlotte.”
Thus, Dale whispered to the girl beside him.
“That man is not your father.”
“But still…”
In a voice devoid of emotion. Charlotte bit her lip at his words.
“Oh, come to think of it, Miss Charlotte might not know yet.”
The Blood Duke grinned mischievously, as if aware of the truth. He waved his hand, and the letters on his skin twisted again.
The ‘helmet’ of Vadel Orhart vanished. Beneath it, the man’s face was revealed. Charlotte’s expression froze once more.
“A truly tearful reunion.”
The Blood Duke remarked, and the Divine Sword charged.
Towards his one and only old friend, Grand Duke Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword.
Clang!
The swords clashed. And beneath the Divine Sword’s feet, a field of plum blossoms began to spread. Seeing this, one could instinctively understand.
The Blood Duke was indeed manipulating the past through the ‘Book of Blood.’ However, the sword of the Divine Sword Vadel Orhart was undeniably real.
The sword of his closest old friend swung. A specter of the past, revived to dance at the whim of the ruler, a false witness of history.
The world the Divine Sword Vadel Orhart unfolded was indistinguishable from that of a sorcerer, and his avatar as a knight was so famous that none were unaware.
He had no avatar. His very presence was his ideology.
The Divine Sword Vadel was not called the most noble knight in the world without reason.
And that nobility had now become a false witness of history, dancing to the ruler’s will.
“Truly…”
The Divine Sword’s blade met the Heavenly Sword’s.
“Your sword is beyond doubt.”
Grand Duke Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword, murmured bitterly.
The swirling field of plum blossoms swept into his sky. The knight of the sky swung his sword. It was a blade yearning for freedom and the sky, and each time, the plum petals unleashed by the Divine Sword scattered like blades.
The greatest swords of the continent clashed.
But compared to ‘Sir Vadel of that time,’ the Heavenly Sword, Grand Duke Lancaster, was now merely an aging swordsman. The scales of victory had been tipped from the start.
Yet, until the end, he did not kneel, and the knight of the sky swung his sword.
“Before I return to the sky, I’m glad to see your sword one last time.”
The Divine Sword Vadel’s blade swung towards the knight of the sky. No blood flowed. No flesh was torn.
Only the body dissolved, leaving behind a flurry of feathers that danced on the wind, rising to the sky.
“Your Grace…!”
Charlotte’s voice rose again, filled with intensity. Dale silently reached out and took her hand. But just then—
Thud!
Another blade pierced through the back of the divine sword, Vadel. How could anyone forget that sword?
The hero’s cherished weapon, Peacemaker.
The blood-stained duke’s body, controlling the divine sword Vadel, was inscribing yet another record.
“In the year XXX of the Third Empire, the divine sword Vadel Orhart was defeated by the hero from another world.”
“As I said, history is written in blood,” the blood-stained duke said with a smile.
Defeating the reborn Grand Duke Lancaster with the divine sword was never his task. After all, the blood-stained duke was a revenant of history, brought back from the past.
At that moment, the divine sword Vadel knelt, and the hero from another world stood there, gripping his beloved sword, Peacemaker.
“Father…”
Charlotte’s expression froze.
Both of Charlotte’s “fathers” met their end there. And the hero from another world looked at her with an emotionless gaze.
It was a fleeting moment.
The entire scene dissolved, and once again, a river of blood filled the surroundings.
The man remained there.
He had etched the “record of blood” onto his body, executing the spirit of the empire as the continent’s greatest dark sorcerer.
The blood-stained duke looked at Dale with an emotionless expression, and at the same time, a man stood blocking his path.
“The battle is over,” the man in black said, and the blood-stained duke quietly smiled.
The “Book of Blood” inscribed on the blood-stained duke’s body vanished. At that moment, it became clear.
The sea of blood that filled the area was the ink with which the book was written.
And finally, the blood-stained duke withdrew his world, and they found themselves in the courtyard of the Saxon ducal estate.
A chilly wind blew. No matter where one looked, there was no trace of Grand Duke Lancaster.