In the midst of the cold night, Liam continues his story, the warm reddish glow of the campfire reflecting across his face.

  “I thought that by staying at Verlyn Academy longer, Theofan would finally stop targeting me—but he didn’t. Maybe he just missed me and wanted to meet me in person.”

  Cedric felt his head grow heavy, filled to the brim with Liam’s past.

  “You threatened your brother until he’s mentally scarred. What if he goes insane before he inherits the throne?”

  The line sounded amusing to the prince.

  “That would be interesting if it actually happened. I could take the Argoust throne right away.”

  “After you give the second prince the same mental trauma?”

  “Hm, Saunder isn’t someone who’s ambitious about becoming king. He just wants a peaceful life.”

  Liam knows his brother well. Cedric decides not to respond. Conflict between heirs to the throne is nothing unusual in a kingdom.

  The fire-element youth suddenly recalls Liam’s power when he took down the assassin leader earlier.

  “I’ve actually been curious from the beginning—what’s your element?”

  “Why ask only now?” Liam replies with a question of his own.

  “I thought I could figure it out by watching you fight.”

  “So, what’s your guess?”

  Cedric’s face tightens with concentration. “… Light?” he says, though even he sounds unsure of his guess.

  “You figured it out with just one look,” Liam answers casually.

  Cedric’s expression grows even more perplexed. “But there’s never been a light-element mage before. Only fire, earth, water, wind, and electro.”

  “So, what’s your conclusion?” Liam once again responds with a question, pushing Cedric to the edge.

  “Oh, come on! My brain isn’t designed for heavy thinking!” Cedric complains, admitting his own limits. “Can you just explain why you have an element no other mage has ever had?”

  Liam falls silent for a moment, thinking of the shortest answer.

  “Just think of my power as a gift from Y’tzyar.”

  “Geh!” Cedric groans in annoyance, feeling like all the energy he spent asking was a complete waste.

  But Liam isn’t finished speaking. “I’ll tell you more once we reach Argoust—and if you decide to remain as my aide.”

  Which means Liam will only reveal the secrets of his power to people he truly trusts. It’s an offer that gives Cedric a lot to think about… especially considering the generous salary.

  “Can you… show a little of your light in your palm?” Cedric asks suddenly.

  The request sounds odd to Liam. “Why?”

  Cedric’s face shows no hidden intentions. “I just want to see it.”

  Liam doesn’t mind, since it isn’t difficult at all. He lifts his palm upward, and a sphere of white-gold light appears.

  Cedric stands frozen, eyes wide, completely captivated by the glow. A pristine white light wrapped in soft golden radiance. The longer he looks at it, the more its beauty shines through.

  It’s as if that light carries fragments of some mysterious memory inside Cedric’s mind.

  “My Lord! We will always be loyal to you!”

  It’s an interesting sight for Liam, watching Cedric freeze like that—as if he’s seeing something inside the sphere of light.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Liam closes his hand, and the light disappears. Only then do Cedric’s eyes snap back to reality. He blinks several times, trying to steady himself.

  “What did you see in my light?”

  Cedric looks confused. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just because my first time seeing light as a mage element.”

  It’s an answer Liam accepts for now, though he’s certain there’s more to it—something beyond mere surprise—that made Cedric freeze when he looked at his light.

  Liam’s gaze shifts to the moon hanging in the night sky.

  “The full moon is coming soon. She’s going to suffer through that pain again.”

  Liam seems to weigh something in his mind before finally speaking.

  “Cedric, do you have any acquaintances from Cranoa?”

  The question draws a confused frown from Cedric, who is already yawning sleepily.

  “What kind of question is that? Do I look like someone who’s ever worked with a follower of Demanthes?”

  “I’m not interrogating you. If you happen to know someone from Cranoa, I genuinely want to meet them—just to talk. I need information.”

  “No, I don’t know anyone from Cranoa. Why don’t you just go to Weldein? It’s a region still occupied by Cranoa. There must be plenty of Cranoan soldiers there.”

  “Theofan is still sending spies to keep an eye on me. If I show up in Cranoa territory, he could use that as an excuse to accuse me of collaborating with the enemy.”

  Cedric falls silent for a moment, trying to understand the situation. Then he exhales and rolls his neck to ease the slight stiffness.

  “Your position is really difficult. Haven’t you ever thought about just killing your brother?”

  A suggestion from someone who’s used to living surrounded by human blood actually seems like something Liam considers for a moment. But in the end, he still answers,

  “My mother hasn’t given me permission to do that.”

  “Hasn’t?”

  That single word grabs Cedric’s attention even more. It implies that Liam does have the intention to finish off Theofan.

  “Ha, the struggle for the throne really is terrifying.” Cedric lies down on the boulder, no longer wanting to think about it.

  “That’s not the main reason,” Liam counters with a cold look. “I hate having my life disrupted.”

  A faint laugh escapes Cedric. “Funny, that’s also the reason I’ve been killing people all this time.”

  Cedric doesn’t bother thinking anymore and shuts his eyes while yawning. He falls fast asleep within seconds.

  Liam goes quiet again for a moment, watching his traveling companion.

  A gentle night breeze blows as a raven—its feathers black with a deep blue gradient—appears through a magical portal in the air. Liam’s raven lands with a small letter tied to its leg.

  Liam immediately opens the scroll and reads its contents.

  “Cedric Dryas, the child born from Roberlio Swan’s affair with a slave named Maidelle Dryas.”

  Liam’s gaze lingers on Cedric, who is already snoring soundly.

  “He’s the Grand Master’s grandson. No wonder his fire power is so strong.”

  .

  The moonlight at night illuminates the top of a five-story inn standing in the middle of the glittering city. A letter carried by a raven arrives in the hands of a blond man with blue eyes, who is sitting relaxed on a luxurious sofa with two escorts at his sides.

  His expression immediately fills with displeasure after reading the contents of the letter.

  “He’s still alive? Useless assassins!”

  Theofan Greig Vissarion, the crown prince of the kingdom of Argoust, sinks his head into the plush backrest of the sofa. The two escorts on his left and right gently rub the prince’s chest, trying to ease his irritation.

  “Is there no assassin group on this entire continent that can cut off that bastard child’s head?”

  “It seems Your Highness is overlooking something important when dealing with a powerful enemy.”

  Samael, a middle-aged man with not a single strand of hair on his head and a layer of scales covering part of his left cheek, speaks up. The red irises of his eyes have a sharp black shape at their center. His facial features resemble those of a half-human, half-serpent.

  A grayish-black robe covers Samael’s entire body. He speaks to Theofan with a slight bow of respect and a sly smile on his lips.

  “What am I overlooking? You seem awfully wise, Cranoa mage.” Theofan’s remark carries a mocking tone as he states the identity of the man before him.

  The faces of the two escorts jolt in surprise. Who would have thought that the crown prince of Argoust is currently conducting a negotiation with a mage from the domain of dark power?

  “Strategy, Your Highness,” Samael replies. “No matter how strong someone is, they always have a weakness. We simply need to discover it and strike at that point.”

  A faint hint of intrigue appears on Theofan’s face.

  “Your words sound promising. Show me proof, and I will agree to this collaborative plan of yours.”

  “Of course, Your Highness. I assure you, in a few days you will receive good news. But, Your Highness…”

  Samael fixes his sharp eyes on him again, wearing a dangerous smile.

  “This conversation is supposed to be between the two of us only.”

  Samael’s words refer to the two escorts beside the crown prince. Theofan understands what he means. He takes out two pouches of coins and hands them to the women at his sides.

  “You two, take this and keep that old man company. He seems very lonely.”

  The two escorts, unaware of the situation, happily accept the extra payment and immediately move to Samael’s side. The Cranoa mage welcomes them with a wide grin.

  Theofan leans back again against the comfortable sofa, releasing all the weariness in his mind.

  “Oh, William, I hate seeing you return to my palace. Just die before you set foot in Argoust.”

  .

  In a place isolated from the crowds, overgrown with unkempt bushes and dimly lit only by the moonlight, the bodies of the two escorts Theofan handed over now lie stiff on the ground, drenched in blood.

  Samael lets out a satisfied sigh, revealing teeth that include two pairs of sharp fangs, now stained with fresh blood. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, as if he has just finished devouring a meal in a brutal manner.

  Another man wearing the same robe appears not far from him.

  “My lord.” He bows in respect.

  “Send them to eliminate William Alroy Vissarion.”

  “Yes, my lord.”