If a zombie’s strength was directly tied to their skills in life, then the Flandre family mansion was nothing short of a den of demons.
The family’s finest knights, now turned zombies, lunged at Roland. Though their intellect was gone, their physical prowess had only grown stronger.
Roland grew weary from the relentless battle.
They all shoved their faces forward, trying to bite into his flesh, forcing him to see up close the ruined visages of the knights he once knew.
With every one he took down, a piece of his heart shattered.
But this was not the time to break.
There was still a task he had to complete.
At last, Roland reached the highest floor of the mansion.
The once orderly hallway was now a ruin, with broken debris scattered everywhere.
He took a deep breath.
Over his vision, the memories of better days overlapped the present scene.
This can’t be.
He shook his head hard, forcing himself to focus.
With every step, his resolve hardened.
He brushed aside the smiles of the mansion’s inhabitants—ghosts of the past—letting them fall like dust over the decapitated zombie corpses.
He crushed his memories and faced the brutal reality.
The last illusion he clung to was just beyond this door.
Roland gripped his sword tightly.
And then, he opened the door.
“Ah…”
A breeze blew through the open window, making the curtains flutter.
There, standing before him, was his father in a hospital gown.
“Father?”
Roland stepped inside.
“You’re unharmed?”
Unlike the hallway, the room was clean. True to his father’s nature, everything was neat and orderly. Even the bedding was carefully arranged, only slightly pulled back as if someone had just risen from the bed.
Roland quickened his pace.
“Father.”
As he moved closer, the part hidden by the bed came into view.
A grotesquely mangled mass of flesh.
Roland stopped.
Only a few bones, crushed bits of flesh, and dried blood stained the floor.
But he knew what it was.
The bloodstained brooch—his mother’s favorite—was still there.
His arms fell limply to his sides.
“Father.”
Then, his father’s body turned.
His face was twisted as if burned.
His mouth hung open, revealing a chaotic tangle of teeth. Rotten flesh and torn cloth clung to them, filling the air with a foul stench.
He tried to bite Roland.
Roland reflexively raised his sword to block.
The zombie that was once his father bit down on the blade, knocking several teeth to the floor.
“Keee…”
The zombie staggered forward without stopping, making a sound like retching.
Roland gritted his teeth and swung his sword.
But the zombie dodged with a grotesque movement and charged again. Roland quickly pulled back his sword, aiming for the neck, but missed.
Their bodies collided and tangled.
Pinned beneath the zombie, Roland wildly punched, and suddenly their eyes met.
Despite the hideous appearance, the outline of Rian Flandre—the man he once knew—remained.
“Father…”
Beyond the zombie’s eyes, Roland saw his own reflection.
A weary expression.
He thought:
It’s too late.
In truth, the moment he fell entangled on the floor with the zombie, the outcome was sealed.
His father was strong, even as a zombie. Against such an opponent, grappling like this meant he couldn’t avoid being bitten.
Roland tried desperately to swing his sword again.
But before he could, a sharp pain stabbed his shoulder.
He’d been bitten.
Roland dropped his sword and blinked.
A strange heat invaded through the wound, spreading rapidly through his veins.
As the poison coursed through his bloodstream to his brain, his vision was painted a deep crimson. An unfamiliar impulse boiled up inside him.
His reason blurred.
All that remained was instinct and desire.
Roland struck the zombie that had crushed him and pushed himself up.
His skin twisted uncontrollably. But more than the pain, something else dominated his mind.
Human.
Flesh and blood.
He needed it.
And in this mansion, where only zombies remained, starving zombies, Roland knew there was still one living human.
Stephanie.
Her face came to mind.
She must be huddled inside the narrow guard post.
Roland crawled out the door, dragging his body despite its unnatural state. He crawled down the stairs, across the hall, and finally reached the mansion’s entrance.
The pain gradually subsided. Roland no longer crawled but staggered like the other zombies.
He stood before the guard post.
Only ragged breaths escaped his lips.
“Keee…”
Roland opened the door.
There she was.
Exhausted from the long ordeal, the girl crouched in the corner, panting heavily. Asleep, she looked like any other child her age.
So pitiful.
But such thoughts were quickly drowned out by the crimson impulse ruling his mind.
Roland’s head twisted.
He seemed to recall something, but the memory slipped away. Or rather, the very act of thinking had faded. Only the desire surging from his gut moved his body.
He stepped toward the girl.
Yuri ran without pause until he reached the Briol royal palace.
The guard at the entrance stared at him in surprise.
“Your Highness?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“What brings you here now…?”
The Third Prince was known to be engaged with the imperial forces in Bezos.
Thanks to his brilliant exploits against the empire, the name Yuri Briol was once again shaking the continent.
And yet here he was, suddenly appearing at the palace.
“I had some business. I’ll be leaving soon. Open up.”
“Y-Yes!”
Yuri pushed open the palace gates and stepped inside. The guard saluted him.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Mm.”
As soon as he entered, Yuri grabbed a passing servant and asked,
“Where’s my brother?”
“Wha—Your Highness?”
“Where is he?”
“I’m not sure…”
No one seemed to know. Everyone just tilted their heads in confusion.
Then Yuri met Rosso, a palace guard.
He still looked remarkably youthful, as if untouched by time.
“Sir Rosso?”
“Oh? Your Highness? What brings you to the palace?”
“I had some business.”
“I heard you’re commanding the battlefield. I always knew you’d grow into a fine knight, Your Highness. Ha ha ha…”
“Thanks. But seriously, where’s my brother?”
“He’s probably in the king’s office, acting on His Majesty’s behalf…”
Rosso tilted his head.
“Most likely the king’s study.”
“Father’s?”
“Seems that way.”
“Got it. Thanks, Sir Rosso.”
“It’s an honor to be of help.”
Without further ceremony, Yuri pushed past the guards and soon stood before the king’s study.
His brother had to be inside.
Yuri hesitated briefly, wondering what to say when he met Cedric. But before he could settle on words, his body moved on its own.
He knocked on the door.
No response.
He knocked again, a few times.
Suddenly, the door swung open inward. There stood Cedric, wearing glasses.
“Yuri?”
Cedric smiled.
“What brings you here? Good to see you. Want some tea?”
A warm welcome.
For the first time, Yuri felt a strange disconnect.
He’d come straight from the battlefield without a word, which was why the guards and servants were all surprised.
But Cedric showed no sign of emotion.
Just a gentle smile.
“Come in. You must be tired.”
Like a trance, Yuri followed his gesture into the study.
The papers on the desk were neatly arranged.
In truth, it wasn’t proper for Cedric—who wasn’t yet king—to be in the king’s study. If he were already king, it would be different, but a regent shouldn’t be here.
Yet it felt completely natural.
“Did something urgent bring you here?”
Cedric asked with a smile.
Yuri stopped at the door, hesitating before speaking.
“Aren’t you surprised?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, me showing up all of a sudden.”
“Of course I was.”
“You don’t look it.”
“There’s no one else who looks exactly like you. If you suddenly appear, it means something’s up. It’s not like it’s a total shock.”
Yuri was taken aback.
“Come in.”
He stepped inside.
This wasn’t the study Yuri remembered. The desk was unfamiliar, and the furniture arrangement had changed significantly.
“A lot’s changed.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you change Father’s study like this?”
“Because I’m going to be using it anyway.”
Yuri looked at Cedric.
“Brother.”
“Yeah?”
“I have something to ask.”
He didn’t drag it out. He’d come all the way to the palace for this.
Cedric tilted his head as Yuri spoke.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
“Of course.”
Cedric answered casually.
“Who doesn’t hide something? Yuri, you’re no different.”
Yuri chose his words carefully before asking again.
“Brother, what happened to Frances?”
“I sent a messenger. Didn’t you hear?”
“No, I did. But I want to hear it from you directly.”
“You want me to answer you, huh…”
Cedric nodded.
Then he looked down at the floor and let out a low chuckle.
“Yuri, you really are…”
He lifted his gaze. His dark eyes shone vividly.
“You always manage to surprise me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. You should be fighting in Bezos, yet here you are, riding a horse all the way here to ask about this. It’s strange. Logically, it’s a terrible choice, but somehow, it all fits perfectly in the end.”
Cedric perched himself on the edge of the table.
“I didn’t expect you to doubt me so soon.”
Yuri mulled over those words, taken aback, and instinctively stepped back.
He hadn’t come to the palace because he distrusted Cedric, but to ease his own mind.
Yet Cedric was smiling in a way Yuri had never seen before.
“Brother?”
Though he had returned through time, much had changed since leading the allied forces to victory. Yuri was constantly thrown into new situations. Nothing had ever been easy.
But this was the first time he felt this utterly bewildered.
This was Cedric.
His respected older brother.
Cedric, who was surely fighting for Briol…
And then, a chilling realization struck Yuri.
He couldn’t believe what he was understanding.
He couldn’t even comprehend himself.
“Ah…”
In his past life, as soon as Fiore disappeared, Briol was invaded.
Yuri had fought on the front lines.
Joshua had used his strategy.
The entire kingdom of Briol had resisted to the very end.
But…
Cedric had been nowhere to be found.
He couldn’t remember when Cedric vanished. No one in Briol had questioned his disappearance.
It was as if Cedric had never existed from the start—everyone had simply forgotten him.
Yuri couldn’t make sense of it.
Suddenly, a single word came to mind.
“Dark magic.”
He spoke it aloud without thinking.
With a clouded expression, Yuri looked at Cedric and asked,
“Do you know?”
Cedric crossed his arms and stared quietly at Yuri. The lenses of his glasses caught the light, flashing white.
“Yuri, my little brother.”
“Answer me.”
“Why did you grow up so fast? Your uniqueness has always been my joy, but this time… I’m truly disappointed.”
Cedric stepped closer to Yuri.
“Brother, please answer…”
“I know.”
“What?”
“I know about dark magic. And to answer one more thing—it’s a lie that Francaise was sealed off because of the plague. Something far worse is happening.”
Cedric’s hand suddenly rested on Yuri’s chest.
“Stay still.”
Yuri tried to reach for his sword, but his hand wouldn’t obey.
Just as he struggled to grasp his blade, Cedric’s voice continued.
“Take your hand off the sword. If you do, I’ll spare your friends in Francaise. If not, they will die a horrible death.”