Chapter 66

Among the casualties were many royal servants, personal attendants, knights, and soldiers.

But the deaths of those from noble families had the greatest impact.

The royal family decided to hold a large-scale memorial service for those who had suffered in this unfortunate accident.

A memorial service held in a temple that only opened on special days within the royal grounds.

The fact that it was presided over by the High Priest meant that the royal family was certainly not ignoring this incident.

The elderly High Priest, dressed in pure white ceremonial robes, spoke about those who had returned to God's embrace.

The infinite blessings and eternal life that the deceased would enjoy in the afterlife, and even condemnation for the masterminds who caused this tragedy.

Strange smoke rose from a huge golden censer and disappeared into the air.

At the end of the long memorial service, a flower offering ceremony was held.

According to the order of status and rank, members of the royal family first offered flowers.

After that, skipping the vacant Grand Duke position, it was his turn.

"Your Grace."

Arndt held out the flowers with only one hand.

One of his arms was wrapped in bandages and completely unusable.

He took the flowers Arndt offered and approached the altar, accompanied only by Leandros.

Offering flowers and saying prayers was easy.

Upon returning, while watching others offer flowers behind him, he turned his eyes and noticed Yurik, who had come to represent the royal family.

Seeing him with a somber expression dressed all in black, he couldn't help but think:

Fake memorial service.

Fake prayers.

Fake tears.

The only thing real in this place was the deaths of those people.

"Your Grace. Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm fine. How's your arm?"

"Thanks to the medicine, there's no pain."

Arndt briefly glanced at his legs before looking away.

Perhaps because they were newly formed legs, there were cases where movement became sluggish due to lack of adaptation.

Arndt seemed to find this regrettable.

It was the aftermath of the accident.

He had died once, and others had truly died.

Particularly, many people had fled to the banquet hall, but paradoxically, only those who couldn't enter the banquet hall were able to save their lives, he was told.

Something about the door of the banquet hall being loose and the lock coming undone.

Arndt said he had saved his life by running out when he saw him just before the door closed.

It didn't seem like anyone had escaped from the banquet hall.

Though he might not have seen clearly because he was disoriented.

"I hope something like this never happens again."

"Your Grace..."

White flowers piled high on the altar.

As everyone's flower offerings ended, people composed themselves in a solemn atmosphere.

He tried to leave early among people wiping their tears, but someone called out to them.

"Duke Hartmann."

"I behold Your Highness the Crown Prince."

Yurik was leaning on a cane. His slightly limping appearance suggested he had injured his leg.

He approached and said with a sad smile.

"Thank you for attending this memorial service for the victims."

"...You shouldn't say such things. I simply thought I had to come."

"On behalf of the royal family, I also commend the courage and chivalry displayed by Duke Hartmann and his knights at the scene. Thanks to you all, greater sacrifice was prevented."

Greater sacrifice?

His mind became somewhat distant at those words.

The demonic beasts that appeared at the hunting ground weren't demonic beasts that appeared in the original work.

They only appeared as demonic beasts tamed by Crown Prince Yurik.

[With a slippery body and bodily fluids that dissolve anything. Their body, which moves faster than arrows despite their size, invokes fear in people. Their white, round offspring enjoy sucking the nutrient-rich brain fluid, and victims cannot resist the death that approaches without sound.]

The fact that they were sent to the hunting ground meant that Yurik's intentions were fully involved.

While he was speechless at Yurik's abominable face, Yurik spoke fluently as if reading from a script.

"Today is a day of mourning, so we should withdraw to not dishonor the deceased. I'm thinking of rewarding your knight from the royal palace later. Many people wish for that."

"Are you saying you will invite my knight to the royal palace?"

"How could I do that? Of course, the Duke must come too. His Majesty the King would gladly wish for that too. What do you think, Sir?"

Yurik turned his gaze to the person beside him.

Leandros answered immediately without a hint of hesitation.

"Though I'm honored..."

"Yes, we'll go."

Of course, it was he who finished the sentence.

The gazes of Leandros and Arndt turned toward him.

So did Yurik's.

He looked straight at Yurik and said.

"How could I dare refuse Your Highness the Crown Prince's invitation? It would be an honor if you invite us. To have my knight praised, what greater honor could there be? Please invite us when you're ready."

A fleeting smile seemed to cross Yurik's lips.

It might have been his imagination. But he nodded.

"I'll send a letter in two days. Look forward to that day."

* * *

"Why did you do that?"

As soon as they sat down in the reception room after returning to the townhouse, Arndt asked.

While warm water filled the cup, faded letters wavered behind Arndt.

[Arndt was genuinely curious. It wasn't that he doubted his master, but a pure question. He also didn't want to torment someone who had died and come back to life.]

"I have something to ask Yurik."

"You're not going to fight, are you?"

"As if I would do that?"

The day he "woke up" was said to be yesterday afternoon.

Of course, he had no memory of it.

When he woke up, it was this morning, and in his bedroom, there were only dried food scraps on piled-up plates.

He was really surprised when he woke up.

Upon waking, Arndt's arm had become mummified.

Russel was crying his eyes out, saying he thought he had really died.

And in the midst of all that, news that there was a memorial service today.

Without Leandros, who was the only one maintaining composure, attending the memorial service today would have been impossible.

He glanced up at Leandros standing behind the chair.

"Is it okay to go to the royal palace?"

"If Your Grace says it's fine, I'll go."

[Leandros didn't want to go to the royal palace. Specifically, it was because just seeing Yurik made his murderous intent rise...]

Hmm,

"Let's think about it a bit more."

As the water warmed his insides, drowsiness gradually poured in.

"Your Grace, shall I prepare water for you to wash?"

"No. I'm just tired. Give me that book over there."

Arndt handed him a book with red and ornate decorations.

It was a book he had been reading in bits and pieces since coming up to the capital.

But today, even though he opened the book, the letters wouldn't register.

It wasn't a matter of condition or anything like that.

The number was bothering him.

[60/70]

The red number flashing above Leandros's head.

The number that was clearly 65/70 when he first died was now 60/70.

Why had it decreased?

Was this okay?

What caused it?

No matter how much he read Leandros's narration, there were no clues about that number.

That might be natural. This number, like the white narration, seemed to be visible only to him.

He couldn't get a sense of what it indicated.

If this was an important indicator, he should understand it now. No, it might not be important. It's only visible to his eyes. But if it's important, he'd need to prioritize it. The importance would be from 1 to 5, let's see... Arndt 5. Russel 4. Leandros would be 7. 7? What day was 7? Three days before payday, need to write the household account book, and come to think of it, laundry too...

His thoughts flowed helplessly.

The red book slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.

* * *

Leandros, who had lightly supported the nodding head, lifted Arenheit.

Arndt headed to the Duke's bedroom without making a sound.

After quickly preparing the bed with just one hand, Leandros carefully laid him down.

Wrapped in a white blanket, Arenheit looked as lifeless as yesterday.

Leandros's hand, pulling up the blanket, paused momentarily.

Only after confirming the faint movement of Arenheit's chest did Arndt, who had been watching the moving hand, ask.

"This is the second time."

"What is?"

"The number of times His Grace has become like this."

And for Leandros to witness Arenheit's death.

Leandros was a person who could sufficiently protect a single escort target.

That was the reason the Duchess had entrusted her only bloodline to him.

However, Leandros had lost Arenheit twice.

In any other noble family, the escort knight's hands would have been cut off long ago.

But this was unfair to Leandros.

Arenheit was deliberately throwing himself into death.

Arndt, the Baron's daughter, the demonic beasts—truly, he understood that the situation was inevitable. He also understood that he could be revived even if he died.

But the result doesn't change.

Arenheit had died,

And Leandros faced powerlessness, something he had never felt in his life.

"...I don't know what you're trying to say, so stop beating around the bush and tell me."

"I'm not trying to blame. I have nothing to say either."

Arndt's arm still couldn't move.

But that's that, and this is this.

Arndt had the duty to protect Arenheit, who had run out of the warehouse that day.

But the result of not being able to do so was before their eyes.

"Dereliction of duty is also tough."

"If you're going to talk nonsense, go outside to do it."

"How many times do I have to tell you that's not what I mean? I just don't know what to do from now on."

"You should continue doing what you've been doing."

"You know that's no longer possible."

The two looked at Arenheit, who was asleep.

Beside him lay the red-covered book he had been reading.

If someone else had seen this, they would have felt nothing but peace.

"Is dying easy?"

"Of course not."

"Does dying once make you happy?"

"Not at all."

"Then why does His Grace."

Why does he keep becoming like this?

What have we done wrong?

No one could answer Arndt's unfinished question.

Raindrops fell on the window reflecting the cloudy sky.

Until the ducal family's carriage departed to respond to the royal palace's invitation that arrived two days later, the rain continued to pour without stopping.

* * *

A gloomy and serene royal palace in the rain.

The palace people all moved around as if holding their breath, acting as if they weren't there.

He knew that the royal palace wouldn't be as bustling as the ducal family, but this was extreme.

It didn't seem this severe when he had come before.

The servant guiding them to the audience chamber said politely.

"Your Grace and the escort knight, please rest until His Highness the Crown Prince arrives."

"Thank you."

The audience chamber could only be entered by one person at a time, or a maximum of two if they were a group.

The audience chamber, which allowed only a few to enter, was excessively ornate.

Gold trimming around the ceiling, decorations made by carving white jade and mixing in small fragments of jewels, interiors where only pure white and gold colors could be seen no matter where one looked.

The worldly beauty he had imagined couldn't be glimpsed at all.

He would rather believe he had come to a temple.

Before he could even sit down on the chair with a sigh, the audience chamber door opened, and Yurik, leaning on a cane, appeared.

Walking majestically, unlike at the memorial service, he welcomed them with vibrant energy.

"Welcome, Duke. How long I've waited."

"I hurried to prepare as soon as I received the invitation."

"Is it because the Duke took too much time to dress up? You don't need to be so formal."

"What impoliteness would that be when meeting the Crown Prince of the nation?"

"Hahaha."

"Ahaha."

This was subtly mocking.

Only after thoroughly teasing him did Yurik turn to his companion with an expectant expression.

"Sir Leandros, I've been waiting. I saw you at the memorial service, but it was regrettable that we couldn't have a proper conversation. It's raining and humid, so you can take off your cloak. You there, help the Sir remove his cloak."

A waiting palace person obediently removed the wet cloak from the person standing beside him.

The face revealed immediately caused Yurik's bright expression to crack.

"Wow, it's an honor to meet Your Highness the Crown Prince. But I didn't go to the memorial service?"

Yurik quietly looked at him.

His face was saying, why is this guy showing up here?

He answered him as politely and kindly as possible.

"It's the first time since we met at the hunting festival. This is my escort knight, Sir Russel Nabilov."

You didn't say to bring Sir Leandros, did you?

You said my knight would be fine, right?