Decision (2)
“A message for the Human Emperor. May this information be of use to you. During our inspection in the northern reaches, we came across a human village. Within it, there appears to be a child carrying the same signature as you.”
A week earlier, a delegation of Dragonoid officials arrived at the capital of Amesticross.
At their head was the Dragonoid diplomat, who now appeared before Emperor Wilhelm Alexander von Friedeberg, delivering his report out of good conscience.
“In any case, we do not place much faith in the report submitted by the local village knight. However, discerning human intentions is not our forte. Thus, we grant this opportunity to your Empire. You may take hold of the northern region we abandoned long ago. This is offered as a courtesy of the Dragon Emperor.”
The Dragonoid diplomat met the Emperor’s gaze.
“However, this is not a final concession. In return, we request that you search for the Ice Dragon we’ve been seeking. You are not required to slay it. We only ask that you determine its whereabouts. Should you succeed, we will officially grant you a portion of the northern territory.”
The chamber remained silent for a long moment.
Then the Emperor finally spoke.
“You claim this child bears a similar signal to mine. Then answer me this. What color is the child’s hair?”
“Golden blonde.”
“…And the eyes?”
“Blue. A deep shade. Distinctly identical to yours, Human Emperor.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Several ministers exchanged glances. The implication was too heavy to ignore now.
——A bastard, then…
——Hardly surprising. It wouldn’t be his first.
——Nor his last, I imagine.
——My, His Majesty truly was… spirited in his youth.
The Emperor dragged a hand down his face and let out a sigh.
It was the truth.
This was not the first reported bastard child of his.
In his youth, he had been careless, never thinking about the consequences of where he placed his affections or his body.
But how could he help it?
He had been the farthest from the throne, a prince with no expectations placed upon him.
Fate, however, had a cruel sense of humor.
Every one of his siblings had died.
And in the end, he alone had inherited the throne.
In fact, every child he had now was born of a different woman, with only the First Prince being born from his official wife.
“Father, if I may, allow me to lead the hunt.”
The one who spoke was that very First Prince.
Blonde hair, like most of the Emperor’s children, and green eyes inherited from his mother, once a baroness by birth.
“Cristoph? Are you certain?”
Cristoph Bernard von Friedeberg bowed his head.
“Yes, Father. I understand the severity behind this matter. It benefits all parties. The Dragons pursue their Ice Dragon, the Empire gains new territory, and we uncover the whereabouts of another sibling of mine.”
His lips curved into a smile.
“This is an opportunity I cannot in good conscience allow to pass. If the child truly exists, then if they are of your blood, no matter the circumstances of their birth, they are still family.”
“.......”
“I shall personally escort the child back to the capital.”
Around the court, whispers spread once more.
Only the Emperor seemed relieved.
“Very well. You will lead the expedition, my son, Cristoph.”
Cristoph lowered his head in respect.
“As you command, Father.”
A cold glint flashed behind the First Prince’s eyes as he strode through the grand halls of the palace.
“I wish you success and a safe return, Your Highness.
Cristoph halted.
“Cardinal Richelieu.”
Before him stood his mentor, the man who had guided him since childhood. His father’s advisor. The Empire’s right hand.
“Keep watch over my siblings’ movements. While I am gone, they may begin to slither around.”
Cardinal Richelieu inclined his head.
“As you command.”
Cristoph moved past him without another glance.
“Be careful, Your Highness. Beyond the Imperial walls, there are many variables one must remain conscious of.”
Cristoph did not slow his pace.
“I am counting on that.”
* * *
Vergil realized there were too many variables at play.
First and foremost, despite the four years he had already spent in this world, as long as Anneliese was still alive, he remained trapped within the prologue.
And the prologue was a dangerous place.
Many events happened there that would never be mentioned in the main plot, or rather, were deemed too insignificant to matter later.
The largest variable among all of them was undoubtedly Seris.
In the novel, there had never been any recorded clash between humans and dragons.
There had never been any mention of an Ice Dragon either. The very concept should not have existed later point in the story.
‘Seris must have died during the prologue.’
For someone as hot-tempered as Seris, she would never remain silent while the world moved forward without her.
That meant there was only one possible conclusion.
Most likely, Seris was already dead after the prologue.
He could not pinpoint exactly when she was meant to die.
Given everything that had happened, it was possible she had been saved through his interference when they first met.
That alone was enough to throw the original flow of the story into disarray.
Yet despite that possibility, the question remained unanswered.
There was still another variable that could not be ignored.
‘The north.’
In the novel’s narrative, the north had already been absorbed into human territory.
After all, what kind of romance fantasy wouldn’t have a northern Grand Duke?
However, at this point in time, control over the region was still vague.
It was unclear who truly held authority over the land.
The humans lived here freely, yet the Dragon Race had once ruled it through the Ice Dragons, making the north their natural domain long before extinction erased them from the world.
‘Leverage…’
There had to be a reason the First Prince was personally leading the hunt.
The thought formed on its own.
Was it the First Prince who had subjugated Seris in the original timeline?
If she had survived her encounter with the Dragonoids back then, then her defeat at his hands could have been what granted the humans rightful control over the north.
The idea was both absurd and terrifying.
And the more he thought about it, the more likely it began to feel.
“......”
There was no time left to dwell on it.
“Vergil.”
He had already made his decision. With a flick of his thumb, the sword at his waist slowly came loose.
“Will you deliver the Emperor’s bastard child and curry the First Prince’s favor?”
The smug look on Felix’s face rubbed him the wrong way.
“V-Vergil, w-what are you—”
Slash——
Amid the crackling of the campfire, bodies fell one by one with a thud.
Vergil raised his head and stared at the moon, wiping the blood from his cheek.
It was about to be a peaceful night.
* * *
“S-Sir Vergil, what are you talking about?”
“You need to flee immediately. Take Mary with you. Go as far from humanity as possible.”
Vergil had rushed straight to Mary’s home and began waking her parents, trying to convince them while the little girl was still sound asleep.
He forced the door open and rushed inside. The little girl was still asleep.
Mary’s mother clutched her chest as she staggered upright.
“Why…? What’s happening?”
“If you stay, none of you will live.”
Vergil turned toward the window and scanned the darkness outside. The torches were still some distance away.
“Pack only what you need. Essentials only. You have three minutes. I’ll go and get Seris. Meet her south of the village. There’s no time to argue.”
Mary’s father started moving at once. The mother rushed toward Mary’s bedside, lifting the sleeping child into her arms.
“Sir Vergil…"
“There’s no time!”
Vergil stepped back into the cold night without waiting for their reply.
The sound of hurried movement echoed behind him as he broke into a sprint through the snow to find Seris.
“Seris!”
She was on her nightly walk near the edge of the village. At the sound of his voice, she turned, immediately narrowing her eyes.
“...You’re covered in blood.”
“Go south. Mary and her family will be there.”
“What?”
“You like that little girl, don’t you?”
“No, wait. You seriously smell like blood right now—”
“Seris."
“......”
“Listen to me.”
The seriousness in his gaze made her take a deep breath.
For a moment, Seris only stared at his face. Then she gave a reluctant nod.
“It feels like you’re about to disappear somewhere far away, Vergil.”
For perhaps the first time since they had met, she obeyed without question.
“…I do not tolerate my subjects abandoning their duty. You will return to my side after what it is you’re about to do.”
“......”
It was a promise he couldn’t make.
* * *
The force led by the First Prince, Cristoph Bernard von Friedeberg, finally arrived at the village after a week of travel.
Yet the moment they crossed its threshold, it was already half empty. The remaining villagers were in the midst of fleeing, trying to escape before it was too late.
And standing before them was a single man.
One Cristoph had never expected to see here.
“Vergil?”
Vergil Eichel-Streiber.
Cristoph held many sentiments toward him.
First, he had once been his younger sister’s knight.
Second, he had been a war hero whom countless knights had admired.
And lastly… he was an obstacle that both he and Cardinal Richelieu had to remove quietly.
It had been unfortunate that a knight as talented as Vergil had to be sent away.
Yet it had also been fortunate that he was only exiled.
Had he been executed back then, many knights would not have accepted it.
Some might have even turned their blades against the crown. That was how great Vergil’s influence had once been.
But now, he had already faded into obscurity.
Killing him here would no longer be a problem for anyone.
Nevertheless, Cristoph could clearly see the hesitation in the knights surrounding him.
At one point, Vergil had been hailed as one of the Empire’s finest swordsmen.
But surely, his talent had dulled by now. There was no reason for so many to fear a single man, especially when they outnumbered him like this.
No matter how powerful a knight might be, there had never been a record in history of one man defeating an entire army on his own.
And it certainly wouldn’t start now. Not with someone who had been away from the frontlines for two full years.
Vergil stared straight into Cristoph’s eyes.
“I’ll give you one chance, Your Highness. Turn back now, and I’ll pretend this never happened.”
Cristoph blinked once.
“......”
Then laughed.
“…You’ll pretend?”
The chuckle grew louder, as if in disbelief, like he had just witnessed a street beggar demanding tribute.
“Vergil, do you hear yourself? You, an exile, are offering me mercy?”
His knights stood straight behind him, emboldened by their prince’s voice.
Cristoph’s eyes narrowed, the amusement in his tone turning into something colder.
“You stand alone, stripped of title and authority. I command a battalion under the Emperor’s name.”
He tilted his head, as though genuinely curious.
“And you truly believe I should be the one to retreat?”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“You’ve always been amusing. But this may be your finest joke yet.”
The smile curved further.
“You filthy, sister-covering bastard.”
For a moment, the world went quiet.
The wind swept across the snow. Torches crackled. Not a single knight breathed too loudly.
“…So that’s how you want this remembered.”
In the same moment, Vergil’s blade left its scabbard…
Swoosh——
His figure vanished from sight at once.
