CHAPTER 36
“……”
Adrian’s expression turned terrifyingly grim.
The moment he glanced around to assess the situation, the knights, having taken the hint, stormed out from within the imperial palace.
More than a dozen swords were aimed straight at Adrian.
“Stay still and we won’t take your life.”
At Asilia’s words, Adrian let out a scoff.
“I don’t quite get what’s going on. What exactly is this supposed to be?”
Cretes, still wearing Isaiah’s face, spoke up.
“What do you think? You’ve been fooled.”
As Adrian raised both hands in a surrender gesture, the knights rushed in and bound him tightly.
After watching the scene in silence for a while, Asilia handed her sword to a nearby knight and said,
“Escort Sir Heathcliff to the infirmary.”
“Are you injured, my lady?”
“In the process of deceiving that scoundrel, I hit my head. At first, I couldn’t even remember who I was.”
“…Your head, you say? Understood. I’ll escort you to the infirmary after you meet with Lord Oswald.”
As expected, it wasn’t going to be easy.
Asilia swore under her breath but nodded.
“Where is Lord Oswald right now?”
“He’s mostly been in the command office lately. We’ve informed him of your return, so he’s likely aware that you and Sir Heathcliff are back.”
“Take me to him at once.”
Asilia, now inside the palace, turned toward the knight’s garrison located to the left of the main gate.
A strange tightness filled her chest.
‘Traitor.’
The voice echoed once again in her mind.
But Asilia took a deep breath and forced herself to ignore it.
‘I didn’t betray Revilla. Revilla was the one who responded to loyalty with suspicion and threats.’
By the time she finished that thought, she and Cretes had arrived in front of the commander’s office.
“Commander Oswald. The two knights who were taken prisoner during the Morian war have returned.”
There was a long silence from within.
Then, finally, came the order to enter, and the door opened.
Inside sat a man so stern, it seemed not a single drop of blood would come out if he were stabbed.
He was massive, with a thick beard. Scars marked his face and arms—proof of countless battles fought.
“So, you’ve returned.”
His voice was heavy.
Almost as if he hadn’t wanted Asilia and Isaiah to come back at all.
“Asilia Restantis. Isaiah Heathcliff. We return, having failed our mission.”
The moment Asilia finished speaking, the man slammed his desk.
With a loud crack, the desk split in two.
“You dare utter the word ‘failure’ from your mouth?!”
“……”
“It’s the second time Heathcliff has failed a mission. And you, Restantis—this is your fifth time.”
His growl rumbled from deep within his throat.
Old memories she had buried began to resurface.
She remembered how many knights avoided foreign missions just to escape Oswald’s wrath during debriefings.
“Asilia Heathcliff. Your behavior is hardly worthy of the name ‘Knight of Revilla.’ And now you claim you’ve failed? Can you still call yourself one of us?!”
His voice boomed so loud it nearly split her ears.
Asilia responded with a blank, expressionless face.
“There were too many inconsistencies between the intel we received and the actual situation on the field.”
“What?”
“The Emperor of Moria is not someone a mere human like me could kill. He’s beyond human power.”
Oswald glared at her.
His gaze was dark and murderous, but Asilia remained calm.
“It’s true that the Emperor of Moria is a god. Or, if not a god, then at least a great mage. Strangling him, stabbing him, using incantations—none of it worked.”
“Don’t blame your lack of training on bad intel.”
“It’s also true he’s ruled as Emperor for a thousand years. Sir Heathcliff confirmed it himself.”
Oswald turned to look at Cretes.
Cretes gave a slight nod in response.
“Can you prove what you say is true?”
“I will submit to any verification process you require.”
Her answer came without hesitation.
At that, Oswald narrowed his eyes and spoke.
“We’ll send people to verify the truth of your claims. Until then, your disciplinary hearing will be suspended, and you’re reinstated. However, if His Majesty the Emperor decides to discipline you separately, his command takes precedence. Understood?”
“Yes.”
At her reply, Oswald waved his hand as if to dismiss them.
After retreating a few steps with proper etiquette, he muttered,
“Welcome back.”
Asilia gave a faint smile in response.
* * *
Asilia and Cretes detailed the events of their escape from Moria. Luckily, they had synchronized their stories in advance, so there were no discrepancies.
Cretes simply added that he had “lost some of his memory prior to the head injury.”
After finishing the report and exiting the commander’s office, the knight waiting outside gave them a formal salute.
A far cry from how they were treated earlier.
“Sir, please head to the infirmary now.”
At Asilia’s command, another knight stepped forward.
“Sir Heathcliff, I’ll escort you to the infirmary.”
Cretes followed him with a light nod.
‘Chilly atmosphere.’
He had felt it the moment he entered Revilla, but the imperial palace was even colder.
No one dared to raise their voice beyond a certain threshold. It wasn’t poise—it was something else.
No one smiled in the palace. If someone did, the person next to them would scold them for it.
Speech had to be refined, and superiors were constantly barking down at subordinates.
“I heard you injured your head.”
“……”
“Does that mean… you don’t remember who I am?”
Cretes gave a silent nod.
The knight muttered that it was unfortunate, but his face didn’t change one bit.
Whether the knight was lying or genuinely sympathetic—
His expression betrayed nothing.
“As much as I’d like to take you straight to the infirmary, since your injury was to the head and affected your memory, there’s a ritual you must undergo first.”
“Ritual?”
“Come this way.”
Cretes followed the man, who led him deep into the underground of the knight’s quarters.
After knocking on a wooden door, the knight bowed and said,
“Once you’re done inside, I’ll escort you to the infirmary.”
Cretes quietly studied the knight’s face. His eyes were slightly unfocused—he was clearly brainwashed.
“Understood.”
He stepped through the wooden door.
The room inside was dark.
Embedded in various places were mana stones, only found in the Hypolios Empire.
‘Revilla claims to hate mages, yet here we are. So much for rumors.’
Cretes surveyed the energy in the room and stood in the center.
A voice emerged from the darkness.
“Warrior of Revilla. Do you remember why you first picked up the sword?”
There was no preamble—just a direct question.
“From what I remember, if a knight came back with a head injury and memory loss, they weren’t sent to the infirmary right away.”
“Where then?”
“Someplace with a wooden door. I never went inside myself, but… if brainwashing really exists, that’s probably where they fix it.”
Asilia’s theory was correct.
The man spoke with weight behind his words.
If Cretes were truly brainwashed, he’d answer without thinking.
“I do not remember.”
Cretes carefully scanned the shadows beyond.
The room had been darkened further with magic.
The man was entirely concealed—wearing a hood and mask that even hid his eyes. Not even the color of his eyes or shape of his brows could be seen.
‘His voice is likely altered too.’
With so many mana stones and such effort to conceal his identity, it was certain even the voice was fake.
“Do you remember who you served?”
“Revilla.”
“What is your highest priority?”
“Orders.”
Cretes’s responses came faster, as if by instinct.
But everything he said had come from Asilia.
She had told him what Revilla valued most, and what a knight’s spirit should be.
“There appear to be no issues. Go to the infirmary.”
Cretes bowed in formal salute.
“Ah.”
But the gesture he used wasn’t the one from Revilla—it was the formal greeting of Moria.
Cretes swallowed dryly.
He hadn’t yet gotten used to Revilla’s etiquette, so his body had responded with the one he knew best.
The man watching sighed heavily.
“Tsk. Seems the Morians trained you thoroughly. Relearn your manners. Revilla does not use such crude gestures.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Cretes let out a silent sigh of relief.
He would never tell Asilia about this.
He swore it.
