“Why not go see them as usual? Seeing the lives saved through your efforts might lift your spirits. It’s all a miracle that began with your desire to rescue demon slaves.”

“Thank you for saying so. But to those who are already wounded in body and spirit, I can’t show them this…”

The queen spoke in a tearful voice.

“I can’t show them such a state.”

“Yes, I understand. I’ll follow your wishes.”

The king agreed immediately. His large green hand gently tucked the queen’s hair behind her ear.

“Don’t worry, my wife. I hold power for one reason alone—to make everything possible according to my wife’s will.”

“Dear, saying such things makes you sound like a tyrant.”

When a small smile bloomed on the queen’s face, the king felt somewhat relieved.

“Would you like to at least check the list in the report? They’re all demons you saved.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t look at it right now.”

His wife used to meticulously check all reports. She would sincerely care for each demon rescued from the slave market, earning herself the title of angel among those pulled from hell-like mires.

But an unfathomable sense of loss had brought the queen’s daily life to a halt.

Just recently, a report had come in.

News that the queen’s old friend had fallen victim to the Empire’s demon massacre.

A half-orc, wasn’t it…

After hearing the death report, the king couldn’t bear to look at his wife’s expression. She had been counting the days until she could meet her old friend.

“I heard your friend was a hero.”

The king took his wife’s hand while pushing aside the report.

“If they were truly a hero worthy of praise, they surely wouldn’t want to see your sad face.”

“…”

The queen tightly closed her eyes as they welled up with tears again.

“Yes. Egru would be like that. He was foolishly kind. Couldn’t take care of himself at all. I should have dragged him along by force back then…”

The queen covered her reddened eyes with one hand.

“How can they massacre so cruelly just because they’re not human…”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, I heard he never even read my letter.”

The queen spoke while pushing away the approaching king.

“He must have only remembered my last image, childishly angry until the end. I committed too many wrongs against him…”

“Mayfield, dear.”

“Don’t call me that. I abandoned my Imperial family name long ago.”

“But you still used the Mayfield family seal on the letter to your friend.”

King Röwugor whined slightly, unlike his usual dignified self. It was an attempt to improve the queen’s mood. Understanding his loving intention, the queen gently stroked the king’s cheek.

“I did that because I was worried Egru wouldn’t recognize me otherwise. How could he possibly recognize the Röwugor royal seal? I never dreamed I’d marry the orc crown princess myself.”

“Do you regret meeting me?”

“Of course not.”

Tears gradually welled up in the queen’s eyes as she smiled faintly.

“Egru, my beloved friend… I’ll never be able to meet him again. I couldn’t even properly apologize…”

“My dear…”

The queen’s face became wet with flowing tears once more. The king helplessly embraced her.

***

The clock tower’s midnight chimes echoed throughout the Papal quarters.

D’Élysée, finishing his duties late into the night, began his training at the practice grounds without fail today as well.

The empty training grounds were quiet. Only the crackle of torches consuming dry wood tapped at his ears.

Donning his gauntlets, D’Élysée picked up his personal wooden sword. It was specially crafted to be several times heavier than normal wooden swords. After basic strength training, sword practice followed. His muscular chest heaved violently. Sun-tanned skin showed through his sweat-soaked top.

Recently, rumors of goblin ghost sightings had been circulating in the Papal quarters. Meeting it supposedly brought misfortune. It was truly an illogical and foolish superstition.

Pathetically, countless people coming and going through the Papal quarters firmly believed such groundless superstition. Perhaps due to fear of impending war.

Within the Holy Knights, some even wagered on who would catch and eliminate the ghost first. However, having fools running around the Papal quarters at night as they pleased was a direct hit to security.

D’Élysée had just disciplined several reckless soldiers who put their impulses first.

Bang!

Suddenly D’Élysée hurled the wooden sword at the stone wall. The heavy wooden sword splintered with a crack. Stone dust exploded from the broken training ground wall.

Wiping his eyes with one hand, D’Élysée raised it to sweep back his sweat-beaded bangs. His face, exhaling rough breaths, was colored by flickering torchlight.

Being born in an age where resurrection magic was possible was both blessing and curse. Because it made it impossible to give up hope.

Only the belief that he would meet his brother again sustained D’Élysée’s life. But now even that was reaching its limit.

Utterly useless days passed by. He hadn’t become Holy Knight Commander for this kind of life.

It was all for one person…

Yet he wasn’t even certain where that person was now.

Should resurrection magic really take this long?

D’Élysée ground his molars. He wanted immediate, visible results.

Besides the Pope’s assistance, he was gathering any information about resurrection he could find, but there were still no meaningful results.

The more bait you cast, the more fish you catch. He had extended his reach even to foreign information broker guilds, but all leads proved futile. Even the commission sent to the Magic Tower, said to gather the century’s greatest eccentrics, remained unanswered.

That’s how dangerous and taboo the ritual of returning the dead was. But no disadvantage could make him stop.

The Pope only kept asking him to wait a little longer.

Since threats wouldn’t work on such a person, all he could do was play along.

The only lifeline he could grasp immediately. He could even act as the Pope’s puppet if it meant reviving his brother.

He had long known the Pope harbored personal feelings for him. It would have been harder not to notice such openly displayed emotions.

The excessive affection shown at times made him wonder.

If they might be deliberately delaying my brother’s revival.

He knew the Pope was acknowledged worldwide as a good person. D’Élysée’s thoughts on this hadn’t changed.

However, it took only the tiniest trigger to make someone’s character feel unsettling.

Like falling asleep after drinking beverages the Pope offered. Or occasionally feeling someone’s lingering gaze while half-asleep.

Or if not that…

D’Élysée had always had moments of seeing through magic. He remembered reading in an old book that strong magical affinity could cause such irregular experiences.

It was when he had just been promoted to apprentice knight and started living in the Papal quarters’ dormitory. That day too, D’Élysée had been training late into the night. Unlike today, he wasn’t alone but with Kevin.

“Kevin, can you see that?”

“See what? I don’t see anything.”

“…You can’t see that?”

“What’s wrong with you? Creepy. Did you see a ghost?”

D’Élysée saw clearly. Mass quantities of magical beast corpses being moved to the Papal quarters’ underground.

“Invisibility magic?”

“What are you muttering about, D’Élysée? What is it really?”

“…It’s nothing.”

D’Élysée chose to keep quiet then. He couldn’t trust Kevin’s bad habit of thoughtlessly blabbing everything. Afterward, D’Élysée frequently witnessed corpses being secretly transported to the underground.

The Papal underground must be some kind of laboratory.

It wasn’t hard to guess. The corpses moved to the underground weren’t just magical beasts. Sometimes living creatures were brought in too.

While ordinary people might be horrified, D’Élysée didn’t pay much attention.

No being exists in the world without flaws. The source of the Pope’s healing power might have come from endless pursuit of knowledge.

It was fortunate that at least the purpose was benevolent. The Pope was choosing to dirty their hands for others’ sake.

At the time, he simply dismissed it as sacrifice for the greater good.

D’Élysée had already decided which life he held precious. Just one person in the entire eastern continent. As long as no threat came to him, nothing would shake D’Élysée, not even natural disasters.

But one day, while smoothly progressing through Holy Knight training.

D’Élysée witnessed a group of green-skinned orcs being dragged into the Papal underground.

They were still alive. Though they would never emerge from the underground again.

From magical beasts and humans to demons now…

D’Élysée reflexively thought of his brother. Even though he was in Levian’s hands, anxiety surged. From that day on, he devoted himself to finding his brother with unprecedented intensity.

How relieved I was when he came to find me himself.

D’Élysée closed his eyes and imagined his brother’s appearance from inauguration day.

What was it like…

Suddenly he felt his chest throb.

The torches lighting the training grounds wavered precariously. Each fruitless day was desperately unbearable.

D’Élysée’s hand moved achingly slow. He gradually opened his palm, calloused from years of wielding swords. Through weightless air, he felt the rough stone floor of the training grounds.

It was cold. Unlike his endlessly finite nature, it resembled the light green skin worn down by life’s tribulations.

As the night wind brushed his cheek, D’Élysée slowly opened his eyes. He gripped his slightly trembling fist to maintain what little rationality remained.

Tomorrow…

His pale green eyes stared into empty space.

I must see brother. By any means necessary…

The next dawn, a messenger bird arrived.

It was the investigation report about reviving the dead that he had commissioned from the Magic Tower. The black letter contained several pieces of information said to be extracted from sealed ancient texts.

[World Tree: Mother of Life Force. Source of Natural Mana. Origin of the Umbilical Cord. Spirits’ Resting Place.

Location: Unknown.]