Episode 26
“I know.”
There was no way Leonhardt wouldn’t have known.
The close aide who had vanished from the banquet hall was none other than Pavel Dehaka — the commander of the Crown Prince’s personal knight order.
“Where is Sir Pavel?”
Leonhardt asked politely, addressing the aides who had finally been freed from their pain.
Their innocence had been proven. For their lord, they had endured suffering they should never have had to face.
They were people who deserved respect.
“I—I’m sure he was near me just a moment ago…”
Countess Viera answered anxiously.
Everyone’s gaze naturally shifted toward the only exit. A massive wall of ice completely blocked the doorway.
Celine spoke.
“I made it when we came in. No one could have gone through.”
“Then he must still be inside.”
— Thud!
Everyone flinched.
Leonhardt had slammed Rashir straight into the marble floor.
“My lord!”
“Leonhardt, what are you doing?!”
Ignoring the noise, Leonhardt closed his eyes and focused solely on Rashir.
“…Found him.”
He walked in a straight line toward a single point, as if no one else in the space existed.
Those standing in his path stepped aside as if they had been commanded.
“Sir Pavel.”
Gasps erupted everywhere.
In a spot that had been completely empty moments ago stood Pavel Dehaka, eyes bloodshot, glaring at Leonhardt.
“So it was you.”
“What are you talking about, Lord Leonhardt?”
The knight commander waved a hand as if puzzled.
“I was feeling unwell and leaned behind a pillar for a moment, that’s all.”
“…Sir Pavel. Hold out your left hand.”
Pavel didn’t move — but Rashir tore itself free from Leonhardt’s belt and arced through the air.
“So it was you.”
The moment Leonhardt’s voice rang out, Celine guided the aides — except the commander — toward the door.
— Bang!
Her pale blue eyes flew wide open.
With a deafening roar, the ice wall shattered into pieces, and in its place emerged a gigantic tree trunk — its width as large as a set of double doors.
A tree that looked long dead.
Goosebumps prickled across Celine’s body. She instinctively felt it.
This was not like any magical beast — this was a twisted, lifeless, evil force.
This was black magic.
Blue flames burst from her hand.
Burn it.
The fire surged, engulfing the entire tree.
…What?
The malevolent energy of the tree didn’t fade — if anything, it grew stronger.
Celine abruptly cut off her magic.
The tree remained untouched.
No — it had grown larger.
Roots shot forward, ready to coil around her and the aides.
“W-what is that?!”
“Kyahhh!”
The roots wrapped around them and hoisted them into the air. The pressure tightened around their bodies, making it hard to breathe.
Celine tried to stay calm. She had already used magic twice.
Fire doesn’t work. Ice doesn’t either. Then…
A violent wind swept through the hall.
Celine felt the roots thrash, trying to tighten their grip.
— Crack!
Dozens of ice blades slammed into the roots restraining her. They didn’t sever them, but loosened them just enough.
— Thud!
Celine crashed to the ground.
“Help us too!”
One of the aides yelled, struggling. Celine hesitated — those ice blades could cut through a human neck just as easily.
If she aimed wrong, she could end up killing someone instead of the roots.
“Hold on!”
She didn’t tell them they might be hanging there for a while.
No reason to panic them.
She raised her head, searching for Leonhardt.
He was running toward her and the others — not even glancing at Pavel.
Ugly roots rose from the floor to block him, but every one was instantly sliced apart by Rashir, the cut surfaces dried and shriveled.
Leonhardt tore through the roots with a face devoid of emotion.
At last he reached them, and Rashir flashed.
“Uaagh!”
Marquis Montgomery screamed as he fell. Judging by the scrambling sounds, he seemed unharmed.
— Thud!
Flash after flash — with every swing, another person was freed.
To them, Rashir was a blade of salvation.
Time passed — not long — and all the aides were on the ground again.
But the roots began creeping toward them once more.
Celine pointed to the massive tree blocking the door.
“Can you destroy that?”
In the next instant—
Rashir transformed into a greatsword the size of Celine herself.
Leonhardt swung it as if it weighed nothing.
— Crack!
The tree fell, leaving only a stump a handspan high.
Leonhardt kicked the doors open.
“Everyone, escape!”
Before he even finished, the aides dashed out of the hall.
“Celine, you too!”
“I’m staying with you.”
Leonhardt turned his back to her.
“Your magic didn’t work on that thing. Go.”
“Why didn’t it work? You said mages can fight black mages.”
She ignored him and stayed beside him.
He frowned.
“I don’t know. Black mages have different traits — maybe it’s compatibility— No, just leave!”
At that moment, a massive trunk shot up between them, separating them.
“Celine!”
She didn’t scream or call out his name.
I can’t attack the roots directly.
But wind could make them waver.
Then…
Celine closed her eyes and focused, remembering Kal Rute’s teaching:
Celine Rute. A blinding light is no different from darkness.
The entire hall flashed blue.
Even she struggled to withstand the brightness.
Leonhardt and Pavel would barely be able to keep their eyes open.
“Cowardly trick!”
The commander’s voice rang out furiously.
Celine frowned in confusion.
He could counter my light with darkness… so why doesn’t he?
She intensified the light — but sensed no darkness in return.
In the scattering light, she spotted Pavel.
He was wrapped tightly in roots — as if shielding himself from even the touch of the light.
“Leonhardt.”
“I know.”
Leonhardt’s eyes were wide open — unaffected by the blinding light — as he walked toward Pavel.
The roots stopped growing. Instead, they recoiled from his steps, as if being wounded.
Leonhardt looked down at Pavel, wrapped in roots, with utter disgust.
“Pavel Dehaka — you’ve sunk so low you’d use innocent people as hostages.”
“Not as low as the Crown Prince, who throws his own men before demons.”
His voice echoed, mocking.
Celine’s eyes widened.
Leonhardt’s expression did not budge — even after being called a demon.
“…Aren’t you ashamed? It was His Highness Ricardo who raised you to that position.”
“You know nothing, boy.”
“Watch out!”
Leonhardt flinched for an instant, then leapt back — just in time to avoid a giant crack in the ground.
The fissure was large enough to swallow him whole.
The commander lay half collapsed, panting — having spent the last of his strength.
Celine brightened the light further.
She feared what he might try next.
“We were close once, so I’ll pass your last words on to your family.”
The commander laughed — long and chilling.
Leonhardt raised Rashir, filled with disgust.
“Kraaagh!”
Blood spattered across Leonhardt.
Red blood.
Not black.
“……!”
Leonhardt’s hands began to tremble.
The severed body of Pavel Dehaka poured bright red blood.
Leonhardt had slain countless black mages.
Black mages bled black.
When they died, only white bones remained.
But this man — the highly respected commander, the Crown Prince’s right hand, someone who had helped Leonhardt many times—
“Leonhardt, what’s wrong?”
Celine approached, reaching for his arm.
He instinctively shoved her away.
“Leonhardt…?”
“Pavel Dehaka… Sir Pavel was not a black mage.”
“……!”
Celine froze in shock.
Of course — a black mage wouldn’t bleed red.
Magic could deceive, but not Leonhardt’s judgment.
He couldn’t create darkness because—
Because Pavel was not a black mage.
“At worst… he was someone they seized?”
“He was manipulated. If he were a converted follower, he would have accepted Rashir’s test and shown red blood — just like the others.”
Celine staggered.
Leonhardt’s voice was rigid.
“Sir Pavel was a victim.”
“……”
“He loved his wife deeply. I should have wondered why he left no final message…”
Celine couldn’t speak.
It wasn’t Leonhardt’s fault — but she couldn’t bring herself to say it’s okay.
Unlike her own life, the others’ lives couldn’t be dismissed as just ignorance.
“Who… why would someone do this?”
Leonhardt could not answer.
He couldn’t voice the dangerous suspicion in his mind.
Sir Pavel… your lord…
Rashir trembled violently in its sheath.
Crown Prince Ricardo Unsolem glared at the man before him, who dared to meet his eyes without bowing.
“Leonhardt, I didn’t know you were this shameless. I expected you to be reflecting in silence.”
Leonhardt’s dry, raspy voice replied:
“Once I finish the mission, I will accept any punishment.”
“Mission?”
The Crown Prince scowled.
“Your mission was to find a black mage among my people. The investigation is over. Perfectly, at that.”
He spoke with obvious mockery — but Leonhardt’s face remained calm.
“There is still one person left.”
“…?”
“Excuse me.”
Leonhardt stepped toward the Crown Prince.
Rashir’s blade glowed blue.
