TYND 16

“I’m afraid to even ask if he knew them.” Chungnip approached Theon quietly, murmuring under his breath. 

He was right. Those thirty-two corpses could’ve been Rothy’s friends. Even if not friends, they might’ve been children whose faces he recognised. Looking at him, Theon noticed the faint tremor of his long, thick eyelashes. Watching him, Theon noticed the faint tremor in his long, thick eyelashes. Rothy had remained calm and detached throughout the ordeal, but now, curious about the subtle shift in his demeanour, Theon followed his gaze.

Near the tower’s entrance, a child’s corpse—grotesquely warped like a giant spider—was being wheeled out. Its twisted form resisted even the shroud meant to cover it. 

“This is maddening. Seriously… should we send Rothy back to his room?” Chungnip asked. 

“Leave him be. If he doesn’t want to see this, he’ll ask to leave himself.”

The line of corpses continued, each more monstrous than the last, their distorted shapes resembling creatures pulled from the depths of a nightmare. Chungnip gagged, clutching at his mouth in shock at his own reaction before turning away and crouching down, his shoulders trembling. 

“This… this isn’t what I expected. I thought… I honestly thought he was the kind of man who’d sacrifice himself for others.”

“……”

“You know what I mean, Your Grace. Lord Yolone… no, Yolone Sirin, that bastard—he always seemed so quick to care for others. He’d worry more about others’ wounds than his own, insisting the healing priests tend to someone else first even when he was bleeding profusely. He even handed out all his healing potions once. That’s why I thought he was a selfless person.”

Hearing Chungnip’s outpouring, Zey, standing nearby, nodded in agreement. 

“That’s right. He definitely had a selfless side. But there was also the time when he sprained his ankle and screamed blue murder, demanding a healing priest while throwing the ghastliest fit.” 

“That’s true as well…… When he acted like that, it did seem like he took others’ sacrifices for granted.” Chungnip agreed, his tone tinged with dejection.

“Maybe he really did have a split personality…”

The archmage’s behaviour during the war had been anything but consistent. 

“Right now… I just want to enjoy this sea of red……” 

Those cryptic words drifted through Theon’s mind again, unbidden. He clenched his jaw, forcing the memory aside. Even if Yolone Sirin had really been of two minds, even if some fractured personality had driven him to commit these atrocities, that fractured piece was still a part of him. It didn’t absolve him of the sins he’d committed. With that thought, Theon strode through the snow, his boots crunching over the icy ground, until he stood before Rothy. The child’s sorrowful green eyes remained fixed on the corpses.   

Rothy lifted his head as Theon approached. Lowering himself to meet the child at eye level, Theon prepared to speak, but Rothy spoke first.  

“You know……” Rothy began hesitantly. 

“If I go to PLEIN… I think maybe Your Grace Theon can take Chi-chi with you……” 

Theon felt stunned for a moment, as if someone had struck the back of his head, leaving him light-headed. 

“Chi-chi’s well-behaved and listens well… Just now… he ate a lot because he hadn’t eaten for days. Usually, he only eats a little…”

“……”

“When you touch him, he’s soft and warm. He’s really smart, too—he understands quickly. Chi-chi will be really useful. Please take him, Theon…” 

Theon’s heart gave a sharp, unexpected lurch. It’d been a long time since anything had affected him this way. It’d also become a little harder for him to meet those earnest green eyes. And yet, in that moment, he made a decision he’d been wrestling with for some time.  

It’d nothing to do with the dream. 

The magic stone didn’t even cross his mind—it no longer mattered. He knew, even without the dream, even without the magic stone, he would’ve made this decision. 

“You said you didn’t want to go to PLEIN.”

“……!”

Rothy nodded vigorously, his gloomy green eyes now bright with hope and anticipation. 

“I don’t dislike Harrié. But I don’t want to go to PLEIN…” 

Theon reached out, brushing his fingers through Rothy snow-white hair. It was much shorter than it’d been in his dream and felt silky as it slipped through his fingers. 

“Then how about coming with me instead?”

“Then…then I’d be so happy!” Rothy exclaimed, his voice trembling with a mix of excitement and relief.

“Because I really like you so much, Theon. I like Chungnip, and Zey too. And Xeon, and Barry… I listen well and I’m obedient. I also know lots of magic, so I’ll be useful…” 

The heartfelt desperation in Rothy’s plea struck Theon squarely in the chest. Reaching down, he scooped up a handful of snow from the white-blanketed ground and piled it into his large palm. 

“Can you melt this snow?” he asked, holding it out to Rothy. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, a warm gust of air brushed against his hand. The snow turned to clear water, lukewarm to the touch, trickling through his fingers. 

“Is this…enough?” Rothy asked cautiously. The question was clear: Can I stay with you now?

Theon’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“We leave at noon today.”

Emperor Dierm, in the middle of sipping his orange juice, sputtered, a stream of juice escaping his lips. The startled attendants hurriedly dabbed at his chin with soft cloths, but the emperor snatched one away, wiped his mouth roughly, and shoved it toward the nearest person. It wasn’t an attendant but the captain of the Imperial Guard who caught it. Without missing a beat, he tucked the cloth into his pocket, his expression unchanging. Slumping into his cushioned chair, Emperor Dierm shot Theon a sharp glare.

“Did you have to tell me that while I was drinking the juice?”

Unbothered, Theon took a chair opposite him. The gesture implied he’d more to say beyond announcing his return home. It made sense now why he’d requested a private audience. Emperor Dierm dismissed everyone from the room with a wave, leaving only the captain of the Imperial Guard standing by his side. Once the sound of footsteps faded, the captain gave a subtle nod, indicating the room was secure.  

“Just yesterday, it was proven that the archmage was actually a monstrous villain. And in this situation, you must return to your territory?”

He’d anticipated this, of course—Theon had already postponed his departure by two days—but that didn’t ease the sting. Theon simply placed a bundle of documents on the table without a word. The captain of the Imperial Guard picked them up and handed them to the emperor. 

“What’s this…?”

“A report summarising the harvest of the Falsen Territory for the last three years.”

“What? And why’re you showing me this now?”

Emperor Dierm flipped through the five-page report, skimming its contents. The conclusion was simple: the agricultural output in Falsen had been steadily and significantly declining over the last three years. 

“Hasn’t Falsen always had low crop yields? It’s a region that relies on imports. The other territories provide resources and taxes in exchange for Falsen guarding the empire from Maton’s offsprings. There’re also the magic stones from the Great Northern Mine. Things should still be fine.” 

Falsen, located in the Empire’s northernmost region, bordered fiend-infested lands on three sides, with the southern border its only reprieve. To the north was the ‘Devil’s Icefield’, to the east was the ‘Hydra’s Nest’, and to the west, the ‘Siren’s Sea.’ 

In essence, life in Falsen was an endless war. Despite being one of the largest territories in the Empire, no one coveted its vast lands, and for good reason. It was a place where children were given wooden swords as soon as they learnt to walk, where every village had a knight training academy, and where self-defence was part of basic education. 

‘A humble countrywoman from Falsen could take down a capital knight with one arm tied behind her back.’

This kind of jest reflected how hardened the people of Falsen were by their constant battles against all kinds of demons. Yet, it was this vigilance that allowed the other territories to enjoy peace, safely shielded behind Falsen’s sacrifices. Out of respect for their dedication, the imperial family had instituted a special tax called the ‘Northern Border Protection Levy’, which was paid by the inland territories to support Falsen’s tireless efforts. 

The Great Northern Mine, the continent’s largest producer of magic stones, combined with the levy from other territories, made Falsen—ironically— the wealthiest territory in the Empire.  

“Falsen relies more on the magic stones from the Great Northern Mine, than the levy. The harsh climate’s tamed by the power of those stones, allowing crops to grow. They’re also what powers the towering iron fences along the border and the barrier surrounding them.” 

“I’m curious why you’re reiterating things we already know.”

“You skimmed the report. Take a closer look at the last page.”

With a sense of foreboding, Emperor Dierm flipped to the last page of the report, this time reading carefully. The detail was impossible to miss—it was written in bold, oversized script. 

“A portion of the Great Northern Mine… collapsed during the war?”

“Yes. Three years ago, ten of the thirteen tunnels were sealed off. The remaining three have been supplying magic stones since then.”

“Bloody hell… Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“The overseer only just reported it.”

“I know! Fine, I get it. He probably didn’t want to cause a disruption during the war. Neither you nor I had the capacity to focus on anything else during the war.”

Emperor Dierm ran his hands through his hair in frustration. It wasn’t just Falsen facing such challenges; every region had suffered under the strain of the twenty-year-long war. He was well aware that reports like this would soon pile up on his desk, but the crisis in Falsen stung the most. 

“The mine has to be restored first. I’ll send PLEIN. Whether you get along with them or not, now isn’t the time for personal feelings.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll handle the mine’s restoration myself. It’ll take half a year.”

“…Half a year?!”

“In return, I request 13,500 magic stones for use during that period.”

“What?! Bro!”

Emperor Dierm leapt from his chair so abruptly it startled even the stoic captain.

“You’re crazy! The war’s barely been over for a month! Where are we supposed to get that many magic stones?! Even you are being unreasonable now!”

The emperor whined like a petulant twenty-six-year-old. 

Magic stones, by their nature, couldn’t be stockpiled. Even if they were gathered in massive quantities, they’d become ordinary stones within an hour if not immediately linked to a magitool. Moreover, once extracted from one artefact to be repurposed in another, they lost their magical properties altogether, making reuse impossible. Given these constraints, sourcing the stones was challenging enough, let alone pairing them with the required magitool… so 27,000 units? It was, quite literally, an impossible demand.