Chapter 20 – What Was Hidden
Frederick frowned, his mind grappling with the logic of a world he had only seen through the lens of anime and high school dreams.
"But… didn't you say you can't kill because your soul is too pure?" he asked, his voice echoing in the vast stone chamber. "As someone who only sees the surface… I still don't get it. If it doesn't affect your power, why does everyone expect a fight from you?"
Ignes shook his head slowly, his white hair catching the dim light of the temple.
"No," he said, his voice steady and detached. "I can kill. My power is absolute; it doesn't diminish if I stain my hands. It's just…"
He stopped. For a fleeting second, the researcher and the star vanished, leaving behind something fragile. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft it seemed to bleed into the shadows of the pillars.
"…Actually… I'm scared."
The room was still. No one reacted. The Dukes were already beginning to gather their things, their minds already drifting to the logistics of the evening.
"I'm terrified of dead bodies," Ignes whispered to the empty air. "And dead souls. I don't know why… but when I see them, it feels wrong. Unnatural. Like a tear in the fabric of the universe that I can't stitch back together."
The room remained silent. Because, muffled by the strange weight of the atmosphere, no one heard him.
Except—Xavier.
Xavier's expression shifted, a microscopic twitch of his jaw. Scared of death? For a reason he couldn't name, that confession felt like a key turning in a lock he hadn't known existed. It felt familiar, like a ghost of a memory from a life where he had spent every waking moment standing between Ignes and the rotting corpses of the world.
Alexander broke the trance, his voice gentle as he draped a hand over his son's shoulder.
"It's fine if you don't want to fight, Igna. You don't have to go to the battlefield—not now, and not ever. We will be your shield." He looked at Frederick with a pointed stare. "After all… Frey is the Emperor. He can handle the politics of war."
Frederick snorted, though there was no heat in it. "I suppose that's my job, isn't it?"
Alexander turned back to Ignes. "Will you come to the celebration party? Or do you wish to rest?"
Ignes didn't hesitate. "I'll stay in the temple for a while. If I feel like coming… I will."
The meeting dissolved. Chairs moved with heavy scrapes; silk and wool rustled as the most powerful men in the Empire prepared to leave. The atmosphere snapped back to a mundane reality, the weight of the earlier revelations sliding off them like water off a stone.
Frederick paused at the door, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his face.
"Alright then. Xavier will stay behind with you. You two should… reconcile. It's been far too long."
The door opened, then closed. Ten people left. And just like that—the world became quiet.
Only two remained. Ignes and Xavier.
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy with the things they hadn't said in front of their "parents."
Then—Xavier moved.
He was a blur of golden light and steel. Before Ignes could even draw a breath, he was pulled forward into an embrace so firm it was almost desperate. Xavier didn't speak. He simply rained kisses upon Ignes—his forehead, his cheeks, his hair—each one a silent prayer of gratitude and relief.
Xavier leaned closer, his lips brushing Ignes's ear. His voice was low, rough, and stripped of all princely arrogance.
"…I'm sorry," he whispered. "It took me this long… to come back to you."
Ignes didn't resist. He relaxed into the heat of Xavier's chest, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and winter air grounding him. "It's alright," he said softly. "I waited for you. But if you're late again… I'll come find you myself. And I won't be as gentle when I do."
Xavier let out a shaky breath, a ghostly laugh. "As you say… my love."
They stood there for a long time, Ignes listening to the steady, rhythmic thrum of Xavier's heart. But even in the warmth, his mind was working. He remembered why he had really come back to this room.
Earlier, when he had headed for the garden, he had felt it. A distortion. A seamless, silent barrier covering the entire room. It didn't block sound, but it manipulated focus. It was the reason the Dukes and the Emperor could hear about "Demon Kings" and "Trillions of enemies" and simply… move on. It was a cognitive filter, designed to keep them from spiraling into suspicion or fear.
It was a masterpiece of magical architecture. And its style was identical to Ignes's own.
Ignes slowly lifted his head, his red eyes locking onto Xavier's golden ones.
"…Did you ask him?"
A pause. The air in the room seemed to chill.
"Did Evander—did the Sword God make the barrier? Or was it you, Matt?"