CHAPTER 23
For Revilla.
For His Majesty the Emperor.
Isaiah had been repeating those words for as long as he could remember.
If one were to ask when it started, it was likely after he became a knight.
He never looked back on the past, never tried to recall who he had been before.
“It feels like someone is constantly whispering in my head. Telling me to think only of Revilla and His Majesty the Emperor.”
“…”
“Why… do I have to do that…?”
“Stop talking. Any more, and I’ll have to brand you a traitor and execute you.”
The knight clamped his mouth shut at Isaiah’s words.
But over time, it wasn’t just him. More and more people began showing symptoms.
At first, they simply spoke with confusion. Then they would suddenly fall into deep sleep, not waking for hours, sometimes days.
When they finally awoke, they complained of frequent headaches and, eventually, uncontrollable bursts of rage.
Rank and status meant nothing—they would explode in fury over the slightest irritation. Some even drew their swords and rampaged.
And then, just as suddenly, they would regain composure and become kinder than anyone… only to start coughing up blood.
And all of them said similar things:
“For Revilla? For the Emperor? They can go to hell! You’re all being controlled! What has the Empire ever done for us?”
“Revilla is hell…”
“I can’t live in a place like this!”
Their howls of rage were grotesque beyond words.
“Did something happen when we tried to enter the Hypholios Empire… some kind of… attack?”
The symptoms varied in speed and intensity, but they shared one commonality:
They all cursed Revilla as hell and insulted the Emperor.
Isaiah drew the sword at his waist.
No matter how close they once were, he could not allow anyone who insulted His Majesty or Revilla to live.
“I will now carry out the sentence. Sir Thomas, Sir Ilon, Lady Merina. For the crimes of royal insult and treason, you are hereby executed.”
His voice was emotionless and firm, and as Isaiah shifted his grip on the sword—
—the raging knights froze mid-scream. Then, glancing at one another, they muttered with empty eyes:
“Obey the Emperor’s orders… purge the traitors…”
“We obey His Majesty’s command…”
“Traitors must die…”
They looked at each other, called each other traitors, and raised their swords.
“Die, traitor!”
This wasn’t some performance.
They genuinely tried to kill one another. And they succeeded.
Isaiah stood still, staring at their lifeless forms for a long time.
It was beyond bizarre.
Even as he forced calm into his expression, his fingers trembled slightly.
“Ha… So that’s what it was.”
Just when he thought it was over, one of the commanding officers behind him muttered.
When Isaiah turned, the man was staring at the corpses, laughing like a madman.
“So… everything I thought was disloyal but tried to suppress… it was all true, wasn’t it?”
Then, the man collapsed to the ground and began to cry.
Isaiah approached.
“Sir. We should return to Revilla.”
“…Are you insane?”
“…”
“I don’t want to die. But I won’t die like them, without even my own will.”
He rejected Revilla, then raised his sword to his neck.
“I’ll find freedom in death.”
“…”
“Sir Hisclea… don’t trust Revilla. They brainwash knights into loyalty and—ugh!”
Before he could finish, Isaiah drove his sword into the man’s chest.
As the officer stared in silence at the blade through his heart, Isaiah spoke with the same emotionless voice:
“Traitor Yuradus. For the crimes of royal insult and treason, execution has been completed.”
The air was cold and still.
Of the five who had infiltrated the Hypholios Empire, four were dead.
Isaiah flicked the blood from his sword and sighed.
“Mission failed. Returning to Revilla.”
He murmured and walked away.
What would he report upon returning? Would those who tolerated no failure even allow him to live?
He didn’t know.
But he had no choice.
There was nowhere else Isaiah could go.
“You failed the mission? The others died, and only you returned?”
Isaiah explained everything to his superior—nothing hidden, no lies.
The superior narrowed his eyes and asked,
“They went mad and died… Looks like the Hypholios Empire struck first. But tell me, Sir Hisclea. Did you have any strange dreams?”
Isaiah inhaled sharply.
He had seen a crying child.
A girl who looked just like him, smiling beside an unfamiliar adult.
It seemed undoubtedly like a memory from the past—one he had forgotten.
“I did not.”
“Hmm… Very well. The mission failure is severe, but since we never made it into the empire proper, it was more a lack of preparation than fault. You will not be punished for this. Stand by for your next orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
From that day, Isaiah was granted a one-month leave.
No one blamed him for the mission’s failure. In fact, he was praised for killing a traitorous superior.
He had no time for guilt. Instead, he was promoted to take the fallen officer’s position.
“Your next mission, Sir Hisclea. His Majesty values your judgment, unclouded by emotion or hierarchy. You will oversee a direct subordinate.”
“…”
“They are a key individual slated for a major mission. They are still undergoing ‘correction’, so if they resist, do not kill them—just ensure the surroundings are under control.”
It was the first time Isaiah had received such a strange order.
He knew Revilla housed countless knight orders.
Many were so secretive that even those in the palace had no idea what they did.
But to think a member of the Emperor’s direct unit was still undergoing correction…
“Understood.”
His answer came a beat late.
The person he was assigned to oversee was a woman wholly unbefitting of the title “knight.”
Her wavy hair reached her waist, and her golden eyes sparkled with a hope that no knight should bear.
Asilia Restantis.
He didn’t like her.
She wasn’t cut from the cloth of a proper knight and was overflowing with unnecessary idealism.
Every mission, she prioritized civilian lives.
Isaiah, a man of principles, found it difficult to respect her as a superior.
When did I start judging my superiors…?
Asilia caused trouble endlessly.
Charging off mid-mission to save a child.
Refusing to kill someone she was ordered to.
Tending to a bleeding trainee who had rolled across the ground.
Her actions were incomprehensible.
She was a madwoman.
And yet… Isaiah couldn’t say her actions were wrong.
Rather, the behavior of the rest of Revilla—treating people like tools—began to feel unnatural.
The day that thought crossed his mind—
Isaiah unknowingly slept for an entire week.
“You must have been very ill. You didn’t leave your room for a week.”
He had no memory of it.
He closed his eyes… and when he opened them again, a week had passed.
A bizarre dream haunted him.
In it, he shouted nonsense: “I’ll sell out my country and my family too!”
But he couldn’t remember the rest of the dream.
“I am prepared to accept any punishment.”
“I reported that you were working with me on the next mission brief. You won’t be penalized for absence.”
“…”
“Oh, and for the next mission—you’re going to war with Moria.”
Isaiah’s fingers trembled.
“Sir Asilia Restantis’ final mission is to assassinate the Emperor of Moria. You will accompany her when the time comes.”
“…”
“If she tries to betray us—kill her. And take over her mission.”
Isaiah nodded.
But he could no longer be sure.
“Who will the real traitor be…?”
He sighed deeply, shaking his head and pushing aside the lingering remnants of his dream.
Suppressing the rising doubt and dread deep, deep down.
“I’ll find that bastard and kill him.”
With a seething hatred for someone he couldn’t even name, Isaiah buried the feeling deep in his heart.
