"Duke Salmon's forces have taken the eastern gate!"
"Marquis Diaz's troops have secured the northern one!"
Reports of victory poured in from all directions.
Halo walked forward with a calm expression.
"Young Master Halo," Sir Recon, Commander of the Oceanwolf Knight Order, said as he bowed beside Halo. "The path to the main palace is clear. Shall we move the troops in?"
The emperor's tyranny had long since gone beyond reason. The informants from the Ducal Family of Leston had uncovered undeniable evidence that the emperor was offering children as sacrifices.
They'd come to the empire to deliver judgment—to destroy the evil that had taken root at the very heart of the empire.
The current emperor was beyond redemption. Once lauded for his mercy toward the demons, he'd gone so far as to ally with the Demon King himself—and now he was summoning a gate linked to the Demon Realm inside the palace.
They had to stop him.
Preventing the emperor and the royal bloodline from being corrupted by the Demon King had always been the ancient duty of the Ducal Family of Leston.
Halo flicked the cigarette in his hand onto the ground and exhaled slowly.
"Father told me to quit smoking," he murmured. "But it's not as easy as it sounds, right, Sir Recon?"
"Young Master, if smoking is your wish, then smoke as much as you please. A mere cigarette cannot harm the body of an 8-Star knight," Sir Recon said.
"Father just hates the smell. He's such an old man, you know that?" Halo said with a faint laugh, gossiping lightly about his father as his gaze drifted forward.
The once-grand Imperial Palace now burned before his eyes, its spires consumed by flame. The coalition, led by their ducal family, had already breached the walls and was advancing quickly into the heart of the palace. The upper hand was theirs.
No, to begin with, there weren't that many troops guarding the Imperial Palace. There were few left willing to defend a crumbling empire—and even fewer who wished to die for a ruler who had abandoned his humanity.
Halo looked down at the cigarette crushed on the ground and asked quietly, "What about the Imperial Guards?"
"They've set up camp in front of the main palace. Some Imperial Guards have left, but nearly eighty percent are still holding," Sir Recon answered.
"Idiots," Halo muttered.
He'd told them to flee—yet here they were. He had to give them credit for stubbornness.
Not long ago, they'd been sharing drinks and laughing. But now they stood as enemies. It left a bitter taste, but that was how it had to be.
They were fulfilling their duty. And he was fulfilling his.
Halo drew his sword Gram from its sheath, and it rasped quietly as he sighed once more. He asked, "Where's Cain?"
"He was confirmed to be at the staircase to the main palace," Recon replied. "Young Master Halo, Cain Latorre is dangerous. I recommend that you not face him alone."
"I made a promise," Halo said simply. "And a knight's word weighs heavier than gold. I intend to keep it."
Cain had once told Halo, during one of their many drunken nights, that his soul belonged to the emperor. That no matter how much he wanted to flee, he couldn't.
At first, Halo didn't understand what Cain meant.
But in truth, the emperor's dark mana coursed through Cain's body—both his source of power and his chain. Cain couldn't break it himself. Not until the emperor died.
"I won't kill him," Halo said quietly.
Whoosh.
A hum filled the air as Halo's Azure Mana spread softly outward, rippling through the flames and smoke.
"I'll disable Cain Latorre, then move into the palace and take the emperor's head," Halo declared.
"Disabling an 8-Star knight on the same level is impossible," Recon said grimly. "You must not leave such a threat alive."
"I'll try anyway," Halo said.
Recon hesitated, then asked, "Why are you going so far for him, Young Master?"
Halo had no easy answer.
He still remembered the first time he'd met Cain Latorre. He'd entered the palace for the first time with his father, and there Cain was—a boy about his age—staring daggers at him.
In those eyes had burned pure hatred and rage. And yet, for some reason, Halo liked that look.
So, Halo had just vaguely thought he wanted to be friends with him. Because Cain was the only one standing on the complete opposite side from him.
"Because we're friends," Halo said at last.
It was a reason that couldn't easily be put into words. Perhaps it was fate that Halo would become friends with Cain.
"Do I really need any other reason?" Halo asked with a faint smile.
Sir Recon looked quietly into Halo's eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded and said, "If that's what you wish, Young Master."
"I'll only go with the Oceanwolf Knight Order," Halo said. "Sending soldiers in would just be meaningless slaughter."
The Imperial Guards were the most battle-hardened force in the empire. The order that guarded the emperor was, in effect, the blade the emperor wielded most often.
With rebellions erupting nonstop lately, the Imperial Guards' battlefield instincts had been sharpened to a razor's edge. If they charged forward and resolved to die, a great deal of blood would inevitably be spilled.
So Halo had to go himself to reduce the sacrifices. And, more importantly, to save Cain.
"Let's move," Halo ordered.
"Oceanwolf Knight Order!" Sir Recon bellowed. "Follow Young Master Halo! Fear not death—the vast sea will always embrace you!"
"For the vast sea!"
"For the vast sea!"
The knights shouted their battle cry, their spirit blazing brighter than the fires around them.
After they disabled the Imperial Guards, they would cut down the emperor.
"...Seems so simple, when I think of it like that," Halo muttered under his breath.
There wasn't much left to do.
Halo gazed at the palace in the distance—its spires glowing under the infernal light—and tightened his grip on Gram. He whispered, "I'll be there soon."
And with that, Halo took a heavy step toward the burning palace—toward the place where Cain awaited him.
***
Halo wondered if there was truly any other image of hell.
No. This—right here—was hell.
Thud.
Halo stared down at a familiar face lying motionless on the bloodstained floor, and bit his lip hard.
"...Why do you look like that?" the man wheezed. "We... We each only... did what we had to... Didn't we?"
It was Kerra Acht of the Imperial Guards, gasping for breath. He looked as if he no longer had the strength to even lift his sword—his eyes were open only through sheer willpower.
"Now... Kill me..." Kerra said faintly. "I've done... my duty."
Ugo, whom Halo had cut down earlier. Beatrice as well. And now Kerra. Every one of them—those who had followed Cain—had begged for death when defeated.
Halo let out a quiet sigh, staring at Kerra as he said, "That's not for you to decide. Only the victor can make that call, Kerra."
Kerra gave a faint smile, then asked, "...Do you intend to spare the Commander too?"
"Of course," Halo replied.
"Then... I beg you. The Commander mustn't die here. Dying here would be... too cruel. So please... I leave him to you..." Kerra begged.
Perhaps his last bit of tension slipped away after those words. Kerra's body went limp.
Halo reached out and checked—no, he wasn't dead. After confirming that, he lifted his head and looked around.
Members of the Oceanwolf Knight Order and the Imperial Guards lay scattered together, their armor cracked, their blades broken. The floor was slick with blood, and bodies were everywhere. Halo couldn't even tell who was still breathing.
The Oceanwolf Knights had the upper hand, yes, but the Imperial Guards fought with a desperation so fierce it bordered on madness.
"Young Master, leave the rest to us," Sir Recon said.
"Sir Recon, your wounds—" Halo began.
Sir Recon's armor was in ruins. His chest had been pierced clean through by a sword. His face had gone pale—clearly a mortal wound.
Sir Recon smiled weakly and said, "It's fine. I managed to save a few lives at least. Ah, my successor will be Zerath Winterguard. Our vice-commander will finally get to lead the Order as a commander."
"Sir Recon..." Halo said quietly.
"It was an honor to serve under you," Recon said. "Don't waste time thinking about me, and move forward."
There was only one thing Halo could offer Sir Recon in return: A salute.
He bowed deeply to the knight who had devoted his entire life to loyalty, then lifted his head slowly.
Soon, he stood in front of a grand staircase. It was the path to the emperor. Once Halo climbed those steps, he would face the emperor at last.
And halfway up those stairs stood a single knight clad in black.
Black armor. Black sword. He looked every bit the devil's knight. Black mists of dark mana even curled off his body like smoke. And yet, his eyes burned clear, bright, alive.
Step.
Halo set foot on the first stair and began walking toward him.
"Ah, finally," Cain said, driving his sword into the stone step and smiling faintly.
It hurt. This moment, this sight... It tore Halo apart inside.
He'd truly believed they could stand on the same side, but now they were facing each other instead. That was why he had to give it his all.
"Surrender," Halo pleaded, his voice thick with suppressed emotions. "You know the atrocities the emperor is committing, don't you? Lay down your weapons and surrender now, and I will guarantee your life, I promise."
Halo thought that if Cain would only stop fighting, he could live. But Cain shook his head slowly and said, "You know that's impossible, right? Let's not waste each other's time."
"Cain. Please," Halo whispered desperately.
Cain chuckled and said, "What use is a dog that can't even guard its own house? You should back down this time, for once."
His voice was light—too light. Despite being consumed by that dark haze, there was no hesitation in him. He was firm and resolute. He had already made his choice.
He smiled and continued, "Looking back, you've always been a rebel at heart, Halo. I knew you'd eventually lead a rebellion successfully."
"How can you still say that at this moment?" Halo retorted bitterly.
"Why not? I'm about to die anyway, so I might as well say what I want. It's still better than insulting someone who's not even a friend by calling them a dog, right?" Cain said.
So even for Cain, those days had to have meant something. Cain kept bringing up the past as if he'd already accepted death.
Halo shouted, his fists clenching tightly, "I don't even expect you to surrender. Just run away. With your skills, you could break through the encirclement and escape."
Cain shook his head and replied, "But I can't do that."
"Why the hell not?" Halo asked.
Cain gestured toward the palace, where the emperor was, and replied, "As long as the emperor lives, how can I flee? If you really want to save me, subdue me, go into the palace, and kill the emperor. That's the only way."
"Why go to such lengths..." Halo trailed off.
"Are you about to say 'when that emperor has never truly trusted me'?" Cain asked.
Cain had once told Halo that he made a contract with the emperor when he entered the palace—a binding of the soul. Back then, Halo hadn't understood what that truly meant.
But now... Now he did.
Cain's fate was bound to the emperor's. When the emperor fell, Cain would be buried with him. Cain no longer had the strength, nor the will, to fight against it.
Cain grumbled on, rambling as if unburdening himself before the end. Halo didn't think he had ever seen Cain so honest before.
"Hah..." Cain exhaled, his sigh trembling in the air. Then, gripping his sword and pulling it free from the stone floor, he said, "Let's have one last clash of swords."
He took a step forward, his black armor gleaming faintly in the dying light. He asked, "Do you remember our sparring record?"
"One draw, nine losses," Halo responded.
"That one draw was only because I deliberately let you off easy when you said you had a stomachache," Cain said.
"Oh, please, Cain," Halo said.
A vortex of dark mana began to coil around Cain, twisting like smoke. Halo summoned his Azure Mana in response, letting its calm blue light course through him. Raising his sword, he aimed its tip squarely at Cain.
"Please. You can be happy too. You can live freely. Do you really want to die as a guard dog?" Halo asked as he pleaded desperately.
He didn't want Cain to die here. He wanted Cain to live, to taste what freedom truly meant.
But Cain only let out a pained chuckle and replied, "Ah, the first son of Duke Leston, worried about the freedom of a slave. How honored I feel."
Cain pretended to sound amused, but Halo could see the anguish in his eyes.
Cain was suffering—more than ever before.
Then, as if resigning himself to something final, Cain gave a small nod and whispered, "Yes, I'll make sure to be happy."
Whoosh!
He moved. In an instant, his figure blurred, and he shot toward Halo like lightning. It happened in less than a heartbeat.
Azure Mana clashed with Cain's dark mana, the two forces snarling and biting into each other like beasts.
Their blades crossed—
Slash!
Cain's sword pierced through Halo's right shoulder. And Halo's blade, in turn—
"Why did you twist your blade at the last second, you bastard?!" Halo roared.
"Ah, my mistake. I guess I slipped up," Cain said with a faint smirk.
Halo's sword had run him clean through. Effortlessly—almost cruelly so.
Cain looked down at the blade jutting through his chest, then raised his gaze to meet Halo's.
"...It doesn't suit a hero to weep after slaying a villain, does it? Pathetic bastard," he said weakly, blood spilling from his mouth.
It was a fatal wound. The strike had pierced his core—he wouldn't last long.
Cain murmured something, barely audible. Halo could only catch one word.
"...Friend."
"Cain, you idiot," Halo said, his throat tight.
Cain let out a hollow laugh, then said, "This is the first and last decision made by a guy who lived as someone else's dog for twenty-nine years. Show some respect, will you?"
Halo didn't know what he could even say. He'd come here to save Cain, yet the latter had chosen death of his own accord. He was filled with resentment.
So Halo spoke to Cain, letting all that bitterness show in his words, "Is this really the path to your happiness?"
Cain still smiled, faint but serene. He replied, "At least I'm less miserable. So, I guess I'm happier than before."
It was too late. There were a thousand things Halo wanted to say, but there was no time left. Cain's life was slipping away—fading like smoke in the wind.
Halo couldn't scold Cain, not now. Not when the latter had chosen this end for himself.
In a calm, hollow voice, Halo asked, "...Do you have any last words?"
Cain closed his eyes. His lips curved slightly as he whispered, "Nothing, really."
And with that, the friend who had lived his entire twenty-nine years as a slave chose his own end.
Thud.
Halo looked down at Cain's corpse, that had collapsed on the ground, and bit his lip hard.
"You damn bastard," he muttered as he clenched his fist, staring down at Cain.
At last, Halo's friend Cain had found his freedom.