BHDV 05

Chapter 05

[You cut off contact for over a decade, and now suddenly you’re applying for asylum. You really are something. When I heard you’d gotten involved in politics that didn’t suit you, I thought the person I once knew had long since disappeared.]

“…Ha.”

Siorne let out a hollow laugh as he read the letter from his old friend, delivered by a wind spirit.

To be honest, he himself was well aware that he had no shame.

[And I still remember your daughter. She was an unforgettable child. I’m not one to indulge in sentimentality, but if she hadn’t been a lady of the Roshan Empire, I would have wanted to make her my successor. But to think this is her daughter… how intriguing.]

“There it goes again.”

Siorne clicked his tongue.

Thinking that his friend’s peculiar tastes were surfacing once more.

[She’s a spirit contractor, of course? Has she awakened yet? …Actually, knowing you, maybe not. I’d prefer if that weren’t the case. Anyway, send back her name in your reply. Well, if I’ve said this much, even a blockhead like you should understand, right? Your asylum request is approved. Hurry up and get over here.]

It was exactly the reply he had expected.

Feeling relieved, Siorne gently stroked the forehead of the sleeping child.

“Mmm…”

“…She really does resemble Mariette.”

Whenever the child lay asleep with her eyes closed, Siorne often felt as though he could not tell whether he was in the present or decades in the past.

The time when, after losing his companion, only his small, beloved daughter remained in his arms.

When night fell, the grief he had forcibly suppressed during the day would come rushing back like a beast, and the only place Siorne could find solace was beside his peacefully sleeping daughter.

“Mariette…”

Edith was the only blood his dearly loved daughter had left behind in this world.

‘…Father. Though I must leave like this…’

“I will protect her.”

The dry voice that echoed from his memories felt as though it were tearing his heart apart while he was still alive.

At the same time, it was unbearably missed—and so, on this night,

Siorne once again made a vow to his deceased daughter.

“No matter what happens, I will protect your child.”

His firm whisper filled the silent room and echoed resolutely on its own.

The previous night, as planned, Siorne Arkhites Bastevan fled with his granddaughter.

“Sir Haldevarte.”

Perion, who had been looking down at the village now sunk in darkness after their departure, glanced at the subordinate who approached him.

“Shall we carry out the order now?”

A trace of hesitation lingered at the corner of his lips, but—

“Yes.”

The answer had already been decided.

With his master’s permission granted, the subordinate bowed deeply and vanished.

KWA-BOOM!

The next moment, flames roared as if mocking the silence.

Screams of chaos, collapsing buildings consumed by fire, desperate cries from those unable to escape.

“…It can’t be helped.”

Watching the catastrophe in silence, Perion muttered as if trying to convince himself.

Though he had once been renowned, now he was nothing more than an old man decades past his prime, fleeing with a mere child.

To keep Roberik from noticing such a flimsy plan, an incident of this scale had to occur.

Hopefully, Roberik would believe that his only biological child had also perished in that fire.

Perion closed his eyes.

His pale green hair, reflecting the red glow, shimmered strangely as it streamed behind him.

“…What?”

Amid the ashes burned black in every direction, the lone man who remained untouched—clad in white—parted his lips blankly.

A sound that could not even form into words slipped from his mouth.

“…My deepest apologies, Your Excellency. The great fire that broke out last night has reduced the entire village to ashes. It pains me to report this, but even Duke Bastevan’s residence has been completely destroyed. Aside from those who had gone out to the outskirts, there are no survivors. The subordinate assigned to surveillance was also found dead. From this, we conclude that it was a deliberate act of arson.”

Standing beside Roberik, Perion delivered his prepared report.

“…”

But something was wrong with Roberik.

“Your Excellency?”

There was no response at all.

Before Perion could even gauge his condition, Roberik began to walk.

“Your Excellency!”

Perion was thrown into confusion.

He hurriedly followed after him, but Roberik’s steps had no clear destination.

What in the world…

At the thought that suddenly crossed his mind, Perion bit his lip.

Could losing that child really have shaken him this much?

Now that he thought about it, what he had taken for aimless wandering actually seemed directed somewhere.

…Toward the house where Siorne Arkhites Bastevan had lived.

Without a single thought spared for what kind of expression Perion wore behind him, Roberik simply walked.

In his chaotic mind, the image of the child he had only recently met surfaced again and again.

How long had it been since he had regained blood kin?

‘Roberik, don’t come out. You must survive! Promise me! Do nothing!’

‘Father, Father!!’

His father, lost to the brutal grip of a mad former emperor.

His mother, who died in an inexplicable accident while rushing back to the grand ducal residence upon hearing the news.

At the age of ten, Roberik lost both his parents, and his heart had since been filled with an unfillable void.

Siorne and Mariette had become his family, but they were not bound to him by blood.

After abandoning Mariette and choosing the one he truly loved, Shastya, Roberik came to regret something.

Shastya could no longer bear children.

By choosing Shastya over Mariette, Roberik had lost the chance to ever have blood-related kin again.

Even so, he told himself it was fine.

He had his love for Shastya, and though not of his blood, he cherished Alea as his child, filling the void as best he could.

But the moment he reunited with his “true” blood, the joy and profound affection he felt far surpassed anything he had felt toward Shastya or Alea.

In that short span of time, Roberik had come to love Edith.

Yet the small child only pushed him away endlessly.

She rejected him coldly, recalling a woman who had already sunk into the depths of his forgotten memories.

“Still…”

He hadn’t done anything for her yet.

As a father, as family—there was so much he wanted to do.

So many things he had dreamed of—

“Are you leaving me like this?”

The small house he had visited with excitement just a week ago, wondering if she would listen to him, if she might open her heart—

was now nothing but ashes, unrecognizable.

From Roberik’s clenched hand, red blood dripped down.

The massive trees of the forest, untouched by the flames, seemed to wail.

“Your Excellency!”

Perion’s voice echoed from afar, but it did not matter to Roberik.

If anyone dared approach him, the savage gale swirling around him threatened to sever their limbs instantly.

[Roberik…]

[Now you have no one but us left. Rely on us.]

[Let’s kill them all. Wipe everything out as if it never existed!]

Countless voices of spirits clouded Roberik’s sanity.

“You mustn’t, Your Excellency!”

Watching from afar, Perion cried out in horror.

Good heavens—he never imagined Roberik would lose himself to this extent…

Powerless before the situation spiraling beyond expectation, Perion could only bite his lip.

[Get a hold of yourself.]

At that moment—

Unlike the many voices steeped in pure malice, a clear and composed voice cut through Roberik’s mind.

“…Ariel?”

Roberik murmured the name as though waking from a nightmare.

Fwoooosh!

As if answering his call, the violent winds gathered into a single point.

The small sphere exploded in a blinding surge, then settled in an instant.

When the storm subsided, Roberik slowly opened his eyes.

[It’s been quite a while.]

The owner of the voice curved his eyes into a faint smile.

His long, sky-colored hair was thickly braided and adorned with brilliant golden ornaments, swaying behind him as if drifting through the air.

White feather earrings decorated his ears, fluttering softly like wings whenever the wind stirred.

His sharp, refreshing features were paired with gem-like eyes of the same sky-blue hue as his hair.

A slender, handsome young man floated lazily in the air, looking down at Roberik.

It was Ariel, the King of Wind Spirits.

“You… why are you…?”

Roberik pressed his throbbing forehead as he looked up at Ariel.

Then suddenly, something struck him, and he looked around.

He hadn’t realized it—his mind had been too far gone.

The remains of the house where Edith had lived had already been scattered by the wind.

“No… no!”

Foolish—how could he lose himself like that!

With trembling eyes, Roberik stared at the scattered ashes, hating himself.

Even if losing the blessings of two attributes had caused him to be swayed by the wind spirits, this was unacceptable.

“There has to be a body…!”

[How disappointing, Roberik.]

The voice of the Spirit King who had taken back his blessing seemed to echo in his ears.

“No, Illypia!”

Roberik shouted like a madman.

“Ariel, help me. My child—my child’s remains, we have to find them!”

If he could use the power of the King of Life Spirits, he could revive Edith.

So if Ariel could just find her remains, he could summon Illypia and bring her back.

Even though the Spirit King who had already left him would never answer his call—

Roberik was not in a state of mind to think that far.

[You’re too pathetic to keep watching.]

At the mocking tone, Roberik’s thoughts froze.

He slowly lifted his head.

The chaos that had flooded his mind came to a halt.

Unless this was a hallucination, Ariel seemed to be looking at him with ridicule.

“Ariel…?”

As Roberik muttered blankly, Ariel spoke as if tossing him a scrap of charity.

[Your daughter isn’t dead.]

His ears rang.

“…What?”

Roberik couldn’t comprehend the words and murmured in confusion.

Leaning forward to meet his gaze, Ariel drove the point home.

[She escaped from you first. With her grandfather.]