Episode 51
Then, he suddenly snapped back to reality.
Lately, perhaps because his headaches were severe, he often felt destructive impulses.
“I don’t know what intentions His Highness the Crown Prince has…”
Rurik frowned so deeply that Jesus, with a frightened face, pleaded.
“Captain, you must not rise to the provocation. Please cross swords a bit, about eight exchanges, and then lose. I beg you this much.”
Rurik shook his head weakly but replied.
“…Understood.”
Jesus nodded, seeming relieved, and stepped back.
Rurik reached for the scabbard he wore on his belt at all times except when sleeping.
To use the new demonic sword as the Crown Prince demanded, he needed to change scabbards, but at that moment, a thunderous voice echoed in his mind.
—Offer victory to the hungry sword!
Was he truly going mad?
It sounded as if ‘Belih’ itself had consciousness and was making demands.
As he struggled to remove the sword, even by force, a stabbing pain gripped his heart.
“Ghk…!”
In the end, Rurik couldn’t draw the sword and collapsed to the floor.
“Hah… Gasp…”
Fumbling, he opened his shirt and looked at his perfectly fine chest.
It was fine.
Yet it was bewildering that it hurt as if he had been stabbed.
He opened his shirt wide and looked down at the old scar remaining on his side.
That wound, acquired long ago on the battlefield, sometimes ached, but visually it had healed, leaving only a trace.
—Pain turns to victory, victory turns to glory, glory turns to death!
Listening to the sword’s venomous voice, Rurik slowly bowed his head and rested his cheek against the floor.
It seemed he couldn’t face the sparring match with the Crown Prince in this mental state.
Crown Prince Hart sneered.
“Is sparring with me once so bothersome?”
Rurik shook his head, his face pale.
“That’s not it. I am unwell. My apologies…”
“You siblings, how is it you only resemble each other in your inadequacies?”
The smile Rurik had been forcing vanished without a trace.
“Regarding Louise’s inability to attend the ceremony yesterday, I apologize. These days, even her maid seems to have caught the symptoms and has been ill, so it’s a worrying situation.”
It was a warning not to speak carelessly, but perhaps it was too difficult for Hart to understand.
“So, you’re telling me not to find fault with your sister, not to bother you, and to get lost now?”
Rurik asked back, sounding weary.
“Brother, aren’t your words excessive?”
“Yes, Rurik. When I am this excessive, isn’t there something you’re good at?”
From Rurik’s perspective, Hart was testing him as if he had gained an extra life.
‘Just when is he talking about?’
A mere one-year age difference.
The two had been terribly compared since they first started walking and had to keep each other in check.
In their childhood, when their physiques were similar, they had fistfights numerous times.
But after receiving his Sword Master certification, Rurik refrained from using force recklessly.
Because to him, Crown Prince Hart was just like everyone else—a weakling.
“Very well. If you wish to spar that much, then tomorrow, we can…”
Rurik tried to suppress his anger, even as he lightly pressed his throbbing forehead, but the Crown Prince did not back down.
“You dare tell me to come again tomorrow?”
Hart sneered, then grabbed the new demonic sword leaning against the wall and handed it to Rurik.
“You can well imagine this new sword is worth as much as a decent castle. Keeping it displayed like a mere ornament—isn’t that an attitude that disregards His Majesty’s sincerity?”
Compelled, Rurik accepted the new sword. The voice in his head shouted loudly.
—Glory turns to death!
The sound echoed so deafeningly that his whole body trembled.
“Ugh.”
But as he groaned and stood frozen, Hart suddenly reached out.
He grabbed the hilt of the demonic sword hanging at Rurik’s thigh.
“Don’t…!”
Rurik couldn’t even finish his belated plea.
As Rurik wrapped his arms around his skull as if it would shatter, Hart drew the sword with a shing.
Hart’s pupils instantly turned pitch black.
He screamed, his eyes gleaming like a madman’s.
“Aaaah!”
—Pain turns to victory!
But even though someone else held the sword, Rurik’s pain remained.
Rurik let out a moan, dropped the new sword, and collapsed on the spot.
“Thi, thi, thi, this thing… me…!”
Hart’s face contorted in terror.
His arm holding the sword trembling, he pleaded toward his brother rolling on the floor.
“Ry, Rurik! Th-this thing won’t let me go!”
This went on for a while, until Rurik finally pressed one hand against the floor.
“Aaaah!”
Hart was still screaming.
“It’s trying to devour me! Get it off…!”
But the eyes of Rurik, who was rising to his feet, were as black as Hart’s.
“Why should I?”
He retorted in an unfamiliar voice.
“You, who weren’t even chosen as the sword’s host… just go ahead and die.”
The face of Hart, holding the sword, turned ashen gray by the second.
Suppressing uncomfortable feelings, I tried to take a nap, but falling asleep was impossible.
The coldness of Louise in the diary, and Rurik, who must have waited endlessly for a reply that never came.
Thinking of such things made my chest feel unbearably stuffy.
“Phoebe, could you style my hair a bit?”
“Will you be going out?”
I nodded to Phoebe.
As planned, rumors had spread that I was too unwell to move about.
Under the circumstances, lying low and waiting for a solution to the demonic sword problem was best, but today I couldn’t bear it.
‘Actually, I’m also concerned about just letting the Emperor reclaim the demonic sword.’
If he were forced to return the sword due to an imperial decree, Rurik’s pride would undoubtedly be wounded.
Because until now, that damned sword had been his pride.
‘I should just go and ask him honestly.’
Unfortunately, the nature of my relationship with Moghold was still unknown.
So, I wasn’t confident about dropping his name, but even without that, I could at least try asking to have the demonic sword replaced with a new one.
It had already been two months since I became Louise.
‘There are too many unknown facts, to the point it’s hard to believe I wrote this novel.’
But one thing I knew for sure was that Rurik cherished me.
So, I had Phoebe style my hair and used Ren’s magical medicine to make myself look even paler before leaving my room.
“Ru?”
But right outside the door, I unexpectedly encountered Ren again.
“Ren… Have you already seen His Majesty?”
Judging by his expression, the conversation probably didn’t go well.
He nodded slightly and frowned.
“So, you’re going to see His Highness the Second Prince after all?”
“Mhmm.”
“Ru, about the Prince…”
Ren hesitated for some reason.
“Actually… yesterday, at the ceremony, when he received the new sword, he seemed to be in pain for some reason.”
“My brother?”
Startled, I pressed him.
“Why are you only telling me this now?”
“Sorry.”
Ren apologized immediately.
“It’s just… you were already worrying so much.”
“Ren!”
I shook him off and started walking toward my brother’s quarters.
Len followed me with quick steps.
“I’ll come with you. I have a bad feeling. If you sense anything strange, just tell me anytime…”
But as we hurried down the long corridor…
“Aaaah!”
A man’s scream echoed from afar.
“…Brother.”
My steps quickened instinctively.
Soon, I started running with all my might.
Beside me, Ren touched his necklace and recited a complex formula, but I couldn’t hear it properly.
‘He mustn’t lose control.’
There was no telling how a rampage would unfold.
If, like in the novel, Rurik at least survived, it would be a blessing in disguise, but if not?
‘What if, instead of Louise surviving, Rurik dies?’
Running frantically, I keenly realized why I had so desperately wanted to prevent Rurik’s rampage.
‘I want to protect him.’
Not the male lead, but my brother, Rurik’s life.
I didn’t care if this imperial palace crumbled or not; I wanted to save that one thing above all else.
