Chapter 35
“The Night of Illusions”
As I kept turning over questions with no answers, the sun set.
We’d finished dinner, and the moon rose over the indigo sky — but there was still no word from the search party.
When Iden said Castian might not return until morning, all strength drained from me.
Under Captain Hamil’s orders, the soldiers split into two groups — those on standby and those to sleep — and began preparing for the night.
Between the torches lighting the area, tension slowly loosened… until a shout split the air.
“Ambush! Black magicians!!”
Hamil and the Bernstein knights reacted first.
As Hamil charged forward with his men, he glanced back at Iden. They exchanged a silent nod.
Once the knights vanished into the darkness, Iden drew his sword and stood in front of the carriage.
“When I give the signal, you must run. Be ready.”
He gestured toward a small gap in the barrier behind the carriage.
I had promised to wait. To wait until Castian returned safely.
But insisting on staying now would only burden Iden further.
Frozen between indecision and fear, I clenched my trembling hands.
A scream echoed in the distance — and then, from the darkness, a pillar of purple flame erupted.
I saw some frightened soldiers slowly retreat toward the gap in the barrier.
Iden shouted toward them, his voice like a whip:
“Do not break formation! Anyone who retreats without orders will be punished!”
Some flinched at his sharp tone, but with Commander Castian absent, more and more soldiers began to waver and inch toward the barrier.
No one knew what had become of the Bernstein knights who’d gone to face the black magicians. Unease spread like invisible poison, accompanied by the sound of distant explosions.
Then suddenly — eerie silence.
Even the murmuring soldiers fell quiet.
Amid the heavy tension, a crimson aura began to glow faintly around Iden’s blade.
“Lady Lydia, please step out of the carriage.”
He whispered without turning, eyes fixed ahead.
Ralph opened the carriage door, and as I stepped down, my heart pounded so hard it hurt.
In that dreadful silence, the soldiers who had been standing in ranks before the carriage began to part, opening a path.
A group of figures approached through the corridor formed by the soldiers, who had been standing in a half-circle between the carriage and the barrier.
Iden adjusted his grip on his now blood-red sword, glaring at them — and beside me, Ralph let out a breath of relief.
“They’re the knights. Looks like they’ve defeated the black magicians.”
At his words, my knees nearly buckled. My legs trembled so much that, had Ralph not caught me, I would have fallen.
Tension melted from everyone — except Iden, who still held his sword ready.
“Captain, what happened? And who is that?” Iden asked warily.
That?
Stretching my neck, I saw someone standing among the tall knights — an old man in a monk’s robe, head bowed.
Then I noticed something off about Hamil and the others. Their eyes were unfocused, staring blankly into space as though they were… entranced.
“Captain!”
Iden shouted, but none of the knights reacted. The old man slowly lifted his head.
His wrinkled face twisted grotesquely — not with tears, as I first thought — but with a smile.
A chilling, sinister smile.
“When the night grows deep,” he murmured, “the nightmare comes.”
The instant he spoke, Hamil’s face contorted in pain.
The other knights followed, groaning and screaming — and then, one by one, they drew their swords.
“You bastard! I’ll kill you!!”
With a furious roar, Hamil swung his blade at Iden. The sudden attack was nearly too fast to catch, but Iden parried in time.
Sparks flew.
“Ugh— Captain! Snap out of it!”
Iden’s plea went unheard. Hamil lunged again.
Not only Hamil — every Bernstein knight had begun attacking the nearby soldiers indiscriminately.
Some fought alongside Hamil to strike at Iden; others turned their blades on their own comrades.
“Ralph! Get Lady Lydia outside the barrier!”
Iden shouted, blocking three swords at once.
Snapping out of his daze, Ralph gritted his teeth and grabbed my hand.
“My lady, this way!”
He pulled me to run — but I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Iden’s back as he fought desperately, trying to keep his maddened comrades from reaching us.
Even Ralph hesitated when he saw it, his steps faltering.
“Ah, damn…”
We couldn’t reach the barrier anyway — the soldiers were panicking, crowding toward it, desperate to escape.
With the Bernstein knights gone mad, their attacks sent chaos rippling through the ranks.
Anyone who tried to move might just as easily end up as a target.
Ralph cursed under his breath and pulled me behind the carriage.
“We should stay out of sight until things calm down. Please stay here, Lady Lydia. I’ll find a way.”
“What will you do?”
“It’s illusion magic. If I kill the illusionist, everyone should come to their senses.”
He glared toward the old man in robes, who was laughing madly with his arms raised to the sky.
An illusionist.
Worse than any monster.
Right now, Hamil and the others were seeing illusions — to them, Iden and the soldiers must look like enemies.
“Captain! Damn it, wake up!”
Iden cried out, but Hamil didn’t hear.
Three knights, including the captain, were attacking him all at once — and even Iden, skilled as he was, couldn’t hold them off for long.
Meanwhile, the illusionist cast his spells on retreating soldiers too, spreading madness like wildfire.
Those fleeing and those chasing, those trying to stop and those trying to kill — all collided in a nightmare of chaos.
It looked like hell itself.
I could only watch, frozen, as the inferno unfolded before my eyes.
It was so horrifying, so relentless, that my sense of reality began to slip away.
It didn’t feel real — more like a vivid, inescapable nightmare.
And when Iden fell, I prayed it was one.
All sound vanished.
There was only silence — and Iden’s still body, blood spilling from his lips.
He didn’t move.
The knights, still bewitched, ignored his fallen form and turned on the next group of soldiers.
“S–Sir Iden…”
I staggered to my feet and stumbled toward him.
Ralph tried to stop me, warning it was dangerous, but I shook him off.
Up close, his wounds were far worse than they had seemed.
His chest, soaked in red, kept pouring out life.
Blood — I had to stop the bleeding —
Panicked, my mind blank, I pressed both hands to the wound. My fingers turned scarlet with his hot blood.
“Sir Iden, open your eyes. Please!”
“Lady… Lydia… cough…”
“Stay with me! You can’t die, please—”
“If I die… call for me… I’ll protect you… even in death…”
“No— Sir Iden, no…”
“Call… me…”
He never finished the sentence. His body went limp.
No matter how hard I pressed his chest or shook his shoulders, he didn’t move.
Iden was dead.
He died protecting me — saying he’d guard me even in death.
And as his life faded, something inside me snapped.
Ralph ran up, gripping my arm in panic.
“My lady, we must go, now!”
Fear flickered in his eyes — not for himself, but afraid the illusion-maddened soldiers would notice us.
Go? Where?
I looked around blankly. The battlefield was still hell.
And amid the carnage, the illusionist — only he — was laughing.
I had never felt anger like this before. Never hated anyone so completely.
My heart, emptied by grief, filled again — with fire.
Purple energy surged from my chest, curling around me in dangerous waves.
The smoke spreading from my body seeped into the ground, blanketing the field.
I had denied it again and again, but there was no denying it now —
I was a necromancer.
And before me, none could mock death.
When the blood-soaked earth was fully covered in violet mist, I spoke:
“Answer my call.”
And at once — countless soldiers of death rose from their graves.
