RODH Chapter 59

59.

While everyone else went into the forge to see the sword, I saw a hawk land on Nevan’s arm.

It was a message from the North.

He read a short note tied to the hawk’s leg, then immediately entered the forge, grabbed the sword, and mounted his horse.

There wasn’t even time to ask what was going on.

“Your Grace!”

“Monsters are descending. I’ll head out first.”

Had it already begun?

Like an abandoned doll, I stood there, eyes fixed on Nevan’s retreating figure.

Then, Nevan turned his reins to the right and looked back at me.

“Don’t worry.”

“Your Grace, I—”

“I know.”

His gaze told me he understood everything I wanted to say, everything I couldn’t say.

Really—do you truly know?

I wanted to ask, badly, but the time around us offered no such luxury.

“Then.”

“Stay safe!”

I hadn’t known I could shout that loudly.

After my voice rang out across the whole of Mount Lampert, I turned to face the others who remained.

“Let’s head back.”

At Seor’s words, we began our descent from Mount Lampert.

---

“Place Ian Pearl Ruben under house arrest!”

The moment we arrived home, Seor abused his authority as Crown Prince.

“What are you doing!”

I had to go to the North.

I had to go and use life magic.

If I didn’t, many people would be killed or injured.

Of course, the one occupying my mind the most was Nevan.

Seor looked at me with guilt-ridden eyes and said,

“I’m sorry. But this is all for you. Ian, hate me all you want for making this choice.”

“Your Highness, it’s time to depart.”

At Peter’s words, Seor pressed a kiss to the back of my hand and quickly left the house.

I was imprisoned in a room unlike the others, rigged with magical devices all over.

It must have been an added security measure thanks to Lucian constantly barging in through portals.

“Bain, I have to go to the North. I need to…”

But Bain coldly pushed away my hand.

I stared at him, confused and hurt, not understanding why.

He replied with a resolute expression.

“Not this time. I can’t knowingly send you into danger, young master. I’d never be able to face the Duke again.”

I blinked like a fool.

“I’ll bring you your meals. And don’t even think about escaping through the window. That’s been enchanted too.”

Creeeak—the door shut behind him.

How could they…

Caught off guard by the sudden situation, I sank to the floor, clutching the bedpost.

Then the scream from my dream echoed in my ears again, snapping me back to my senses. I didn’t have time to sit around doing nothing. I scanned the room, determined to act.

The magic device fixed to the ceiling was out of reach, even if I stacked chairs and a footstool.

And no matter how much I pulled, the window wouldn’t budge.

“What if Nevan dies?”

The moment I gave voice to my greatest fear, my body began to tremble.

As I stared endlessly out the window, a small dot came flying toward me from the distance.

It was Happy.

KIEEEEK—

With a shriek, Happy shattered the window with a loud crack and bang.

Luckily, the protective magic kept me from being hurt.

Who brought Happy all the way here?

It was Lucian, riding on her back.

“Looked like you needed help.”

“How did you know to come?”

“I told you, didn’t I? I respect the choices of those I hold dear.”

I heard something about “the future crown princess,” but I ignored it all and rushed to drag over a chair to mount Happy’s back.

Just as I climbed on, the door burst open and Bain let out a horrified scream.

I gave him a thumbs-up.

“I’ll be back. Take care of the house.”

“Young master!”

His desperate cry clung to me, uneasy and heavy, but it all turned to ashes the moment Happy took flight.

I asked Lucian about the situation in the North.

“It’s bad. The monsters are overwhelming, and even the imperial army is struggling.”

“The Demon Lord must’ve enhanced their abilities. Are His Grace and Lord Alvis safe?”

“They’re okay. But Alvis said the magic circle was drawn, and without divine power, there’s a limit to what ordinary mages can do.”

So they’re barely holding the line.

I closed my eyes tightly and recalled what was written in Berkisto’s journal.

Then I asked Lucian,

“Could you drop me off where Lord Alvis is?”

“…It’s dangerous. Are you sure?”

“There’s something I have to do. I was born to bring spring—so I have to take responsibility.”

“You said there’s no such thing as fate, Ian.”

His voice, meant to comfort me, trembled with unease.

I tried to reassure him.

“I want to do what I can. Lives are at stake.”

“…Ian, seriously.”

You’re impossible.

Lucian muttered under his breath, just barely audible.

I knew. I wasn’t a good person.

Even though I was the future crown princess, I was always thinking of someone else. And now, I was breaking house arrest and heading to the North.

But I wasn’t going to die.

I only wanted to use that fact to stop the Demon Lord.

So Nevan wouldn’t die.

So the countless people who joined the war would make it out alive.

“To reach the center, we’ll have to land nearby and move under cover. Seor and Peter are probably there.”

Just as Lucian had said, Seor and Peter were locked in a bloody battle with the monsters.

When I suddenly appeared, Seor looked at me like he’d seen a ghost—then exploded in anger.

“Ian Pearl Ruben! I told you not to take a single step outside the house!”

“This is no time for that. Cover me and get me to where Lord Alvis is.”

“No. Go back.”

“Then I’ll go alone.”

Without waiting for any response, I ran toward Alvis in the distance.

“Ian!”

Seor and Lucian simultaneously took down the monster charging at my back.

Watching its crimson blood spill with a heavy thud made my heart drop.

But this wasn’t the time for that.

“I’ll cover you. But when this is over, you and I are going to have a serious talk.”

I let Seor’s warning go in one ear and out the other, sprinting and stopping on cue as Seor and Lucian signaled me.

At last, I reached Alvis’s magic circle—and he, too, exploded in anger.

“There’s nothing you can do right now, Lord Ian. Please, go back!”

No. There was one thing I could do.

Ignoring him, I asked,

“The magic’s too weak to be effective, isn’t it?”

Thunder rumbled across the blood-red sky.

The early winter wind lashed my cheeks like knives.

Alvis nodded.

“I’m not a light-attribute mage, so that makes it even worse.”

“There’s a way.”

“What are you—Lord Ian!”

When I pulled a dagger from my coat, Alvis flinched in shock.

But he was too busy maintaining the magic circle to stop me.

“I overheard what you and His Grace talked about. Not on purpose, but I heard it all the same.”

“No… Don’t do it!”

“I have life magic. And it’s strong.”

I recalled a passage from Berkisto’s journal.

[To amplify a spell using life magic, one must offer the blood of the one who possesses it.]

“I won’t die.”

“No!”

Then, without hesitation, I slashed both my hands with the dagger and held them to the magic circle.

“Ugh…”

Something was pouring out of me.

The strange sensation made me groan involuntarily.

But the effect was undeniable.

The light from the circle grew visibly stronger.

At the same moment, a familiar wail echoed—

The Demon Lord.

I braced my collapsing body with all my strength.

“Lord Ian!”

Alvis shouted from beside me.

Still, I didn’t pull my hands away.

I kept imagining the Demon Lord burning to ash, pouring every bit of my life into it.

Soon, the Demon Lord let out a tormented cry.

The thunder of hooves, the ragged breathing of foot soldiers, and flurries of wet snow scattered in the air.

Everything moved in slow motion.

It felt like someone had stretched time into syrup.

“…Ian…”

Even as someone tried to pull me away from the circle, I clung to the grass, refusing to let go.

The gash from the dagger rubbed against the blades, stinging sharply.

Tears welled in my eyes.

There was no need to go this far—so why did I?

Sometimes, in the middle of something, you suddenly realize you’ve made a foolish mistake and wonder: Why did I do that?

I had staked my life to defeat the Demon Lord.

Was it dead?

Or… not?

“Ian, Ian!”

A voice called my name again and again. I closed my eyes tightly, then opened them wide.

Before I knew it, the battle was over.

Seor was holding me in his arms, slapping my cheek.

I gasped for breath, trembling like I was moments away from death.

“Get a healer! Now! Ian, don’t lose consciousness. Stay with me!”

“The Demon Lord…”

My voice barely came out, like I was squeezing the words from the bottom of my lungs. My heart pounded furiously.

“It’s dead. The Demon Lord burned up in the magic circle you activated! So please…!”

Hearing that it was dead, relief rushed in like warm foam.

My body was growing cold, but my heart felt at peace.

“What’s going on.”

A calm but chilling voice—Nevan’s—came from a distance.

Peter tried to stop him, but Nevan pushed through and knelt beside me, taking my hand.

My hand, slashed by a dagger, looked gruesome.

“Lord Ian… what have you…”

His voice trembled.

That was when I caught a faint scent of herbs.

And without even closing my eyes, I felt my heart come to a stop.