Chapter 38……………………………..
“Protect what is most precious.”
Hidenite’s calm remark had a strangely focusing effect on the crowd.
Adamas felt as if every sense in his body had gathered in his ears. Otherwise, there was no way he could hear each trembling syllable of the marquis’s voice so clearly.
Since the time of Lion King Shuon, the most precious thing to the people of the Francis Empire had been their own lives.
Yes. The marquis was that kind of man.
A man who valued the lives of his people above victory in war.
The marquis’s thin wrist, like a dry twig, lifted.
When Hidenite gestured toward Sapeiros, he strode powerfully to the front of the platform.
Adamas couldn’t even swallow properly. He clenched his fists, trying to hide the trembling in his hands.
A purple mantle was bestowed upon Sapeiros.
The symbol of House Mano.
Raising high the beetle-emblazoned banner, intricately embroidered with green and gold thread, Sapeiros shouted, “For Mano!”
Watching him, Adamas recalled something his father had once said long ago.
“All of Mano owes their lives to Mano Sapeiros.”
“For Mano! For Mano! For Mano!”
The heated cries ringing in his ears made his mind go faint.
Once again, the lives of all these people are hanging from your shoulders.
History had certainly changed.
But I still haven’t saved you.
“Mas? Adamas! Get a hold of yourself!”
“Ah, sorry.”
At Sapeiros’s shout, Adamas hunched his back.
“Idiot. What are you doing? It’s harder to ride like that.”
Patting Adamas on the shoulder, Sapeiros scolded him lightly and told him to lean against him.
They were on horseback now.
“You’ll topple forward at this rate. Just lean comfortably. You did fine last time—why not now?”
“Last time? What— Ah…”
He was clearly talking about their first meeting.
“Back then I found you annoying, so I leaned on you on purpose to make it harder for you.”
As Adamas trailed off awkwardly, Sapeiros whispered softly.
“It wasn’t hard. So you can lean on me now too. Why are you so tense?”
“Aren’t you scared?”
Your life might truly end today.
Is it right to fight only for Mano?
Chewing on his lip, Adamas said, “I am.”
“Sapeiros…”
“I’m scared when I think about losing something precious.”
Sapeiros pulled Adamas tightly into his arms, as if he truly couldn’t bear to lose what was precious to him.
His black hair spilled over Adamas’s shoulder.
Adamas let go of the reins he was awkwardly gripping in his right hand. Instead, he slid his fingers into Sapeiros’s hair and played with it gently.
What Sapeiros wanted to protect wasn’t simply a stretch of land called a marquisate. It was the lives of the people who lived there.
He had always fought that way.
Whether the opponent was the Kingdom of Robiana or golems—
For every citizen of Mano living on this land.
It would be presumptuous to call the life this man had lived pitiable.
“I’ll fight for Mano too.”
That was why he was here.
Feeling the warmth of Sapeiros, who was holding him tightly, Adamas straightened his trembling body.
Even if I have to fight a hundred times—no, a thousand times—
I’ll save Mano.
I’ll save you.
For two days, dark storm clouds had covered the sky.
About a thousand Mano-Fran soldiers had set up a temporary camp along the lower banks of the Baran River, near the marquisate. They trembled anxiously, wondering if the Kingdom of Robiana might launch another surprise attack.
Thinking that this must be what it meant to be in the calm before a storm, Adamas sat inside a dark blue military tent, waiting desperately for someone.
Kanil’s diary was in his hands.
Exhausted from waiting, he had started reading it again, but in truth he had been stuck on a single page, unable to move forward.
“…No way.”
“Why? Is something wrong, Adamas?”
Sapeiros, who had been examining a map of the Baran River, turned his gaze toward him.
“No. I just can’t make sense of it.”
“Of what?”
“Ros. Why do you think Kanil came to the marquisate?”
“It was the emperor’s order.”
“Right. But why did Liger Francis II send Kanil here?”
“You said it wasn’t because of salt, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Adamas fixed his gaze once more on the diary before him.
Seeing him frown and mumble to himself, Sapeiros said, “Seems like you have a guess?”
“It’s just my imagination. Not even worth saying out loud…”
“You’re a mage, and I’m a swordsman. No one’s going to criticize us for historical speculation in a marquisate two hundred miles from the capital.”
“You won’t laugh at me, right?”
“Me? Laugh at you?”
As if that could happen, Sapeiros shrugged.
At that, Adamas quietly pushed the black diary forward.
“While reading it, something kept bothering me. Look here.”
“This damned desert. I am not talent meant to rot in a place like this. How dare someone so much younger order me around. Let’s see how well they live after tormenting an old mage. If not for that filthy diamond, I wouldn’t stay in a place like this for even a day.
Damned Liger Francis II! The glory of Francisco is over. Soon, divine punishment will strike that tyrant. The Land of Blessing…”
“This word really bothers me.”
Adamas tapped a particular line in the diary.
“The Land of Blessing?”
“Yeah. Ros, what comes to mind when you hear that name?”
“Isn’t it the three-way crossroads? The capital, Francisco.”
“Besides that…”
“Hmm… Marinya, I suppose. The first city. The lost civilization.”
Adamas remembered exactly how Marinya was described in standard history textbooks.
“Marinya. The first civilization of humankind. Also called the Land of Blessing. It had an oasis, allowing agriculture. It also possessed desert salt fields, enabling salt production.”
“W-wait a second, Adamas.”
Sapeiros cut him off abruptly, looking at him in confusion.
“Are you saying the Glaive Desert might be Marinya?”
“More precisely, that somewhere in the desert might possibly be. What if the reason Liger Francis II so frequently started wars wasn’t because he was a warmonger, but because he was searching for Marinya?”
“Marinya is like a vanished legend. Why would anyone try to find it now? Even if it truly existed, that would be a story from five thousand years ago.”
“I’d bet the arrogant emperor wanted the name ‘the one and only Land of Blessing.’ Liger Francis II had an unusual lust for power.”
Adamas tapped the words Land of Blessing again.
“You’re saying he waged endless wars for such a reason?”
“Ros, this is just my guess, so don’t get worked up. No one from the marquisate has ever seen the end of the Glaive Desert, right?”
“Right. The former marquis sent people several times, thinking there might be potential for development, but… there were no results. Beyond the edge of the mapped lands, unpredictable gusts of wind make it nearly impossible to go far.”
“I see.”
“Mas, if it were revealed that somewhere in the Glaive Desert was truly Marinya, what would have happened to the marquisate?”
Sapeiros asked in a drained voice.
Adamas gently stroked his drooping shoulder.
“If Marinya’s existence were proven and confirmed to be somewhere in the Glaive Desert, then the Marquisate of Mano would never have existed in the first place. The empire couldn’t possibly have two Lands of Blessing. And Robiana would have mobilized its entire army to seize this place.”
A deep silence settled between them.
“It’s all hypothetical. Don’t worry about it too much.”
Adamas folded the map neatly and handed it back.
“Kanil was a mage, not a historian. He probably failed to discover anything significant. And even if he did, it must have been small in scale. If you think about it, five thousand years ago was barely the beginning of early agriculture. The size of any settlement would have been less than one-thousandth that of the present empire.”
“Then Kanil could’ve just reported that there was nothing special and returned to the capital.”
“There was that filthy diamond.”
“But you said it wasn’t needed anymore.”
“That’s from the emperor’s perspective! Even I feel thrilled just because we secured a single sack of salt! The emperor might not need salt, but Kanil did.”
“Did Kanil need money?”
“He became an imperial mage because the chimera and golem research he truly wanted to pursue required enormous funds.”
“Is that so?”
“He must’ve been full of complaints at first. But considering the numerous luminous stones embedded in the desert dungeon walls, I think it’s clear why he didn’t return to the capital. Kanil was definitely siphoning off the salt.”
Kanil likely hadn’t properly reported what was happening in the Glaive Desert to the imperial court. Perhaps he reported a few times at the beginning, but later he must have deliberately omitted reports and monopolized the salt.
“So after Kanil died, another mage appeared and created the golems?”
“For now, that seems to be the case.”
“Then the most suspicious person is…”
After hearing Adamas’s words, Sapeiros lowered his gaze to the ground and closed his eyes.
“Ros, this is all conjecture. But yes… the most suspicious one is that person.”
An uneasy look crossed Sapeiros’s face. He deeply furrowed his brow, clenching and unclenching his fists.
No matter how many times they thought it over, the conclusion was the same.
From the moment they discovered Kanil’s room, both Sapeiros and Adamas had continuously suspected that person.
Sapeiros’s face flushed in an instant. He gripped his fist tightly, trying to suppress his anger, but his whole body trembled despite his will.
“Ros, calm down. That person is only a strong suspect. Nothing’s been proven yet.”
“That’s why I’m holding back. There’s no evidence. Otherwise, I’d drag that person here right now—!”
Adamas quietly wrapped his hand around Sapeiros’s fist.
“Relax. You’ll hurt your hand.”
When he lightly tapped it, Sapeiros slowly loosened his grip.
His hand was large—unexpectedly so for someone with such a beautiful, handsome face.
“I figured you’d have calluses since you’re a swordsman, but your hands are huge.”
Each knuckle was much longer and thicker than his own.
“You could probably cover my whole face. Look—see? Completely covered.”
At that, Sapeiros let out a small laugh.
“Your face is just small.”
“No, your hand is big. Look—compared to mine, it’s almost twice as large.”
Adamas overlapped their hands playfully.
“You’re right. Mine are a bit big.”
As he said that, Sapeiros curled his overlapping fingers—and naturally laced them together.
“Ah? Uh, wait—about the finger-lacing…”
Their eyes met.
Adamas instantly regretted it.
Ah. I shouldn’t have looked into his eyes.
