Kael stared at Theodore Valdran for a long moment.
His brows slowly furrowed as he processed what Theodore had just said.
The evening breeze moved gently through the wet garden, carrying the scent of rain and roses between them.
Theodore let out a deep breath.
He could clearly see the questions lingering in Kael's eyes.
"I know what I'm asking is sudden," Theodore admitted quietly. "But like I said last night… the southern ports of Valdran have been repeatedly attacked by the Demon Cult."
He paused.
His expression darkened.
"But that is only part of the story."
Theodore's gaze drifted toward the distant fountain.
For the first time since arriving at Delcra, the old Guardian looked genuinely troubled.
"This situation has already gone beyond my control."
His voice was calm, but heavy.
"I understand my own limits."
Kael stayed silent, listening carefully.
"The Demon Cult's attacks are becoming more dangerous by the day," Theodore continued. "Their methods… their power… it no longer resembles the demons we fought during the war."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"It's worse."
His hand slipped inside his coat.
Slowly, he pulled out a small book.
Old.
Torn.
Its cover was stained black at the edges, as if burned long ago.
"I found this on one of the cultists we managed to capture before he exploded."
Theodore extended the book toward Kael.
Kael's eyes lowered to it.
And immediately—
He saw it.
A faint black aura lingering around the pages.
Rotten.
Heavy.
Like corrupted mana.
Only someone deeply connected to demon power could perceive it.
His fingers hesitated.
"…This…"
Kael's voice remained controlled, though quieter now.
"This belonged to one of them?"
Theodore nodded.
Then he pulled the book back and opened it carefully to the center page.
Without another word, he showed it to Kael.
Kael's pupils widened.
The words were written in a foreign language—
Using dark red ink that looked disturbingly similar to dried blood.
Yet somehow—
Kael could understand it perfectly.
'The blood of the King shall flow into the crimson lake.'
The moment he read it—
The image returned.
The blood lake.
The black figure.
The dying flowers.
The endless red water beneath his feet.
Kael's breathing faltered slightly.
"I do not know who this 'King' refers to," Theodore said calmly. "But considering they worship demons… perhaps it refers to the Demon King himself."
His gaze sharpened.
"And you are the one who slew their king five years ago."
Kael remained silent.
But inside—
His thoughts trembled violently.
The blood lake.
The visions.
The black figure he kept seeing.
Could all of it truly be connected to the Demon Cult?
But he said nothing.
Not to Theodore.
Not yet.
Theodore studied Kael's expression carefully.
Then finally—
He spoke the words he had truly come to say.
"That is why I am asking for your help, Hero Kael."
Not Archduke.
Not Guardian.
Hero.
"I suspect they are trying to revive the Demon King," Theodore continued quietly. "But I do not know how."
Kael slowly lifted his eyes toward him again.
"I already reported this to His Majesty," Theodore said, frustration finally surfacing in his tone. "But even the Emperor refused to send support."
A bitter smile appeared briefly on his lips.
"I do not know what he is thinking. Perhaps he believes I can handle this alone."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"But every day…"
His voice lowered.
"I lose more men."
For the first time—
Kael saw exhaustion in Theodore's face.
Real exhaustion.
Not political calculation.
Not arrogance.
Just weariness.
"I may be one of the Empire's Guardians," Theodore continued slowly, "but this matter has exceeded my abilities."
His eyes darkened.
"Reports of death arrive almost every day now."
Then he pulled another document from inside his coat and handed it to Kael.
"This is only from the past month."
Kael slowly accepted it.
His eyes scanned the pages one by one.
Names.
Ages.
Villages.
Deaths.
Missing persons.
Injuries.
Then his hand faltered.
Children.
There were children listed among the dead.
Something tightened painfully inside his chest.
For a brief moment—
He remembered the orphanage.
The underground cells.
The helplessness.
The feeling of being unable to save anyone.
Theodore noticed his hesitation immediately.
Slowly, the older man took the document back.
Then he sighed quietly.
"I understand this is technically a Southern matter."
His voice softened slightly.
"And that I should resolve it myself."
A pause.
"But at the very least…"
His eyes met Kael's directly.
"Could you guide me?"
"Guide my men."
"How do we fight people like this?"
There was no pride left in his voice anymore.
Only desperation.
Kael bit his lip faintly.
His fingers curled against his sleeve.
He wanted to help.
But his body—
His condition—
The headaches.
The visions.
The weakness after the coma—
He was not even certain he could protect himself properly right now.
"…I'm sorry…"
His voice came out quieter than intended.
"…For now…"
He lowered his eyes slightly.
"I cannot leave this place."
Silence.
Theodore's brows furrowed faintly.
Disappointment became visible across his face for the first time.
Slowly, he returned the document inside his coat.
"I understand."
His tone became calm once more.
"Then I shall resolve this myself… even if it takes time."
He stepped closer.
Then extended his hand toward Kael.
"Still… thank you for allowing me to stay here as your honored guest."
The faint warmth in his expression had already faded.
Only exhaustion remained.
Kael stared at the offered hand for a long moment.
Guilt slowly settled heavily inside him.
Even after Reinhardt's warning…
This situation felt different.
Because civilians were dying.
Children were dying.
And Theodore—
Despite everything—
Was asking sincerely.
With hesitation—
Kael finally lifted his hand.
And accepted Theodore's handshake.
The moment their fingers touched—
The world distorted.
Kael's eyes widened.
Behind Theodore—
A figure suddenly stood there.
Covered in blood.
Silent.
Watching him.
John.
Kael's breath caught sharply.
Then realization struck him harder than the vision itself.
John's face—
Looked eerily similar to Theodore's.
-----------------------------------------
Moonlight brushed softly against Kael's pale face.
A cold wind drifted through the garden, carrying the scent of wet flowers after rain. The night was quiet—too quiet—and the silence only made the thoughts inside his head louder.
Kael lay quietly on the long sofa inside the glass gazebo.
The transparent walls reflected the moonlight beautifully, turning the entire structure silver beneath the night sky. Flowers surrounded the building from every side, and the small pond nearby reflected the stars like shattered glass.
This was the first time he had truly used the glass gazebo the servants had built specially for him.
A place meant for rest.
Peace.
Yet tonight—
His mind refused to calm down.
Theodore Valdran had already departed from Delcra hours ago.
But the conversation still lingered heavily in Kael's thoughts.
The Demon Cult.
The southern port.
The blood-written prophecy.
And most of all—
That final moment.
John.
Standing behind Theodore.
Silent.
Covered in blood.
Kael slowly closed his eyes.
Then reopened them toward the moon again.
It had only been a vision.
Another fragment.
Another distortion.
But now—
He finally understood why Theodore had felt strangely familiar from the beginning.
It was because Theodore's face resembled John's.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
The shape of the eyes.
The jawline.
The expression when serious.
There was unmistakable similarity between them.
Why…?
The question would not leave his mind.
Soft footsteps approached from outside the gazebo.
Steady.
Measured.
The glass door slid open quietly before closing again.
Kael did not turn around.
He already recognized the footsteps.
"Your Grace."
Sebastian Smith's calm voice greeted him gently.
"The time is already late."
A small smile formed on the old butler's lips.
"You should return to your room now."
Then he added carefully,
"And dinner has already been prepared."
Kael slowly turned his gaze toward the clock mounted near the gazebo entrance.
Nine at night.
He remembered immediately.
The promise he made to Robert.
Not to stay outside too long.
Not to push himself excessively.
Or Robert's nagging would become unbearable.
A faint sigh escaped him.
Then slowly, Kael rose from the sofa.
Sebastian watched carefully, subtly ready to support him if his legs weakened—but Kael managed to steady himself on his own.
Kael gave a small nod.
"…Alright."
Sebastian's expression softened in relief.
"Then allow me to escort you back."
They left the gazebo together.
Their footsteps remained slow along the stone pathway.
Sebastian deliberately walked slightly behind Kael, matching his pace without rushing him.
The moonlight stretched long shadows across the garden.
But Kael's thoughts remained elsewhere.
Still trapped inside the vision.
Still replaying Theodore's face.
John's face.
The impossible resemblance.
Then suddenly—
Kael stopped walking.
Sebastian immediately halted behind him.
Concern appeared in the old butler's eyes.
"Is something wrong, Your Grace?" he asked carefully.
"Did you forget something in the garden?"
Kael slowly shook his head.
Then he turned slightly toward Sebastian.
Moonlight reflected faintly in his tired crimson eyes.
"Sebastian…"
His voice was low.
Quiet.
"If I ask you to investigate something…"
A small pause.
"Will you do it for me?"
Sebastian blinked softly at the unexpected question.
Then slowly—
A warm smile appeared on his aged face.
"Of course."
He bowed slightly.
"I am your servant."
His tone carried absolute sincerity.
"Whatever Your Grace desires, I will do my utmost to fulfill it."
Kael looked at him silently for several seconds.
He had deliberately avoided asking Robert.
Because every time Theodore's name surfaced—
Robert became uncomfortable.
Tense.
As if hiding something.
Finally, Kael spoke again.
"Can you investigate Lord Theodore?"
Sebastian's eyes widened faintly.
But only for a moment.
Kael continued quietly.
"I want information about his background."
"His family."
"Everything."
The old butler's expression remained calm, though surprise flickered briefly across his eyes.
This was the first direct task Kael had personally entrusted to him since reclaiming Delcra.
Yet—
The request itself was unusual.
"…May I ask why?" Sebastian asked cautiously.
Not out of refusal.
Only concern.
Kael's gaze lowered slightly.
His thoughts returned once more to John's blood-covered face.
Then to Theodore.
"…I just need confirmation."
His answer came quietly.
Straightforward.
But vague enough that Sebastian understood Kael did not wish to explain further.
The old butler lowered his head respectfully.
"I understand."
Then he nodded once.
"I will begin immediately."
Kael gave a faint nod in return.
Then both resumed walking through the silent garden.
Neither spoke again.
But as Kael walked beneath the moonlight—
The same question continued echoing inside his mind endlessly.
Why did John look so much like Theodore Valdran?
-----------------------------------------
Right after dinner, Kael returned quietly to his room.
The hallways of Delcra Castle had already fallen silent. Most servants had retreated for the night, leaving only the faint glow of wall candles illuminating the corridors.
As he walked, Kael noticed something unusual.
Robert was not beside him.
Normally, the young attendant would stay close, especially after Kael's recent collapse.
Kael assumed Robert was busy helping Albert with paperwork. After all, he had promised to let them handle most of the administrative work while he recovered.
Still—
The absence felt strangely noticeable.
Kael pushed open the door to his room.
Warm candlelight greeted him.
And so did Elric.
Elric Caen Vaelthorn stood near the large window, quietly staring at the night sky outside. Moonlight reflected faintly across her silver-white hair.
The moment she heard the door open, she turned immediately.
Relief flashed across her face.
Then—
Without hesitation, she hurried toward him.
"Kael."
Her hand immediately caught his.
"Are you alright?"
Her voice carried clear worry.
"I heard you seemed different after speaking privately with Lord Theodore in the garden."
Kael blinked softly at her sudden concern.
Then slowly nodded.
"…I'm alright."
Elric carefully scanned his face.
His complexion was not as pale as before.
His breathing looked steady.
Most importantly—
He was still standing properly.
A relieved sigh escaped her lips.
"That's a relief…"
She held his hand tighter unconsciously.
"I became worried when you suddenly told everyone you wanted to be alone after Lord Theodore left."
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"I'm glad you didn't collapse again."
Kael quietly looked at her.
"…I'm sorry."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I just needed to think quietly for a while."
Together, they slowly moved toward the end of the bed and sat down.
Elric still refused to release his hand.
As if afraid he might disappear if she did.
"Is there something troubling you?" she asked gently.
"Something you want to say?"
Her eyes remained fixed on him carefully.
Because she could clearly see it—
Kael was troubled by something.
Deeply.
Kael lowered his gaze.
For a moment, sorrow crossed his expression.
He hesitated.
But eventually—
He decided to trust her.
"…Lord Theodore asked for my help."
The words came slowly after a long silence.
Elric's eyes widened immediately.
"…Help?"
She blinked in disbelief.
"Theodore Valdran?"
Kael nodded quietly.
Then, little by little, he explained their conversation in the garden.
About the southern ports.
About the Demon Cult.
About the strange book.
About Theodore's suspicion that someone was attempting to revive the Demon King.
But carefully—
He avoided mentioning the blood lake.
John.
And the visions.
Elric listened silently until he finished.
Then slowly, she pulled her hand toward her chin thoughtfully.
"So… Theodore suspects they're trying to revive the Demon King."
Kael shook his head faintly.
"He isn't certain."
Then he looked at her seriously.
"…Do you think it's possible?"
Elric turned toward him fully.
"It's nearly impossible."
Then she paused.
"But demons are different from humans."
Kael stayed silent, listening carefully.
"You remember the village incident, don't you?" she continued softly.
"John revived corpses using forbidden magic."
Kael nodded slowly.
The dead villagers.
The ghouls.
The nightmare from that village still remained vivid in his mind.
Elric continued.
"If someone attempts to revive a human soul completely, it usually fails."
Her voice became calmer, more analytical.
"The body becomes unstable. Hollow."
"A ghoul."
"A zombie."
"Something incomplete."
Then her eyes narrowed slightly.
"But demons are different."
"When demons die, their physical bodies scatter into dust."
"That means their existence isn't bound to flesh the same way humans are."
She folded her arms quietly.
"So theoretically… reviving them is more possible than reviving humans."
Kael's expression darkened slightly.
"But," Elric added quickly, "reviving the Demon King fully would still be extremely difficult."
She looked directly at him.
"It shouldn't succeed."
Kael lowered his eyes again.
But his thoughts remained restless.
The blood lake.
The prophecy.
The black figure.
Everything felt too connected.
Elric watched him quietly.
She could tell.
He was overthinking again.
Slowly, she lifted her hand and gently touched his cheek, making him face her.
"Please don't burden yourself with this too much."
Her voice softened.
"If Reinhardt chose not to send support to the South, then—"
"People are dying."
Kael cut her off quietly.
Elric froze.
Kael's eyes lowered again.
"I saw the list Theodore showed me."
His voice became heavier.
"…Children were among them."
A faint tremble entered his breathing.
"They're being kidnapped… killed…"
And instantly—
Elric understood.
It was never truly about Theodore.
Nor politics.
Nor even the Demon Cult itself.
It was the children.
Kael had always been weak toward children.
Because deep down—
He still remembered being one himself.
Helpless.
Abandoned.
Unable to save anyone.
Elric's expression softened immediately.
But she still shook her head gently.
"You can't go right now, Kael."
Her voice remained careful.
"You're still recovering."
Kael looked at her with furrowed brows.
"…I know everyone dislikes Theodore…"
He looked away slightly.
"But people are dying."
Slowly, he pulled her hand away from his cheek.
Elric stiffened immediately.
She realized too late—
She had chosen the wrong words.
"…Kael."
Her voice became hurried.
"That's not what I meant."
She moved slightly closer.
"I'm worried about you."
But Kael turned away from her.
His arms slowly wrapped around himself.
As if protecting something fragile.
"…No…"
His voice sounded strained.
"I just…"
He closed his eyes tightly.
"…Please leave me alone for a while."
A pause.
"I want to think quietly."
Sadness filled every word.
Elric stared at him silently.
It had been a long time since Kael had pushed her away like this.
And for a brief moment—
Fear appeared inside her chest.
Fear that he would close himself off again.
Slowly—
Carefully—
She moved closer.
Her hand hesitated before gently touching his back.
"Kael…"
Her voice softened completely.
"…I'm sorry."
Then she took a deep breath.
"Alright."
She smiled faintly.
"I'll help you."
Kael slowly turned back toward her.
His crimson eyes widened slightly.
"…Really?"
Elric nodded immediately.
Relief filled her seeing the faint hope returning to his expression.
"You want to help Theodore, right?"
She squeezed his hand gently.
"Then I'll go with you."
Kael stared at her silently.
"But first," Elric continued carefully, "you need to recover properly."
She lifted his hand slightly.
Her thumb brushed gently across his pale fingers.
"You can barely hold a sword steadily right now."
Her eyes met his seriously.
"You can't protect anyone in this condition."
Kael hesitated.
Because deep down—
He knew she was right.
He was still weak.
Still unstable.
Still collapsing from headaches and visions.
Slowly—
He nodded.
"…I'm sorry."
His voice became quieter.
"For getting angry at you."
Then he lowered his gaze.
"…I'll try my best."
Elric finally let out the breath she had been holding.
Then slowly—
She pulled him into her arms.
Gently.
Warmly.
"I know this is hard for you."
Her hand brushed through his hair carefully.
"But I want you to remember something."
She held him tighter.
"I'll always stay beside you, Kael."
A promise.
Quiet.
But sincere.
Kael slowly buried his face against her shoulder.
And for the first time that night—
The noise inside his mind finally became a little quieter beneath her touch.