Ancient Imperial Calendar Year 1810
With Seth's victory, it was clear who Ricardo's last opponent was.
Kislavein Dynasty Lord IV Orsman had only two sons left out of his 24 sons. Everyone was now aware that the bloody throne games in the Kislavein Dynasty were nearing their end.
The whole world was eagerly waiting to see who would be the next Lord of the Kislaveins; some even placed bets.
While some thought Seth would win, others thought Ricardo would win.
This curiosity would be revealed at the end of Seth and Ricardo's battle, but tonight the brothers would not be at bloody stabs.
It was late at night; a young man from the senior class was walking towards Ricardo's room, hiding his presence perfectly.
He was so well hidden that even if he stood right in front of people, not even their spirits would hear him.
The young man standing in front of Ricardo's room knocked on the door.
"I am not an assassin, Young Lord Ricardo. Your brother, Young Lord Seth, sent me. He wants to speak to you privately."
Ricardo was surprised by this unexpected invitation as he was preparing to attack with his sword pointed at the door, ready to fight.
Ricardo approached the door with careful steps, cast a speed spell, and in the blink of an eye, he passed behind the young man waiting behind the door.
Ricardo put the sharpest part of his long and sharp sword against the young man's neck and asked in a low voice.
"Would I come to a place that was clearly a trap?"
The young man smiled slightly. Ricardo got angry when he saw this.
"Does this seem like a joke to you? If you want to die, you've come to the right place."
The young man felt fear to his core. He was nervous even though he didn't show it. He was starting to sweat; there was a slight tremor in his hands, but he didn't show it. He said in a calm voice.
"Forgive me, Young Lord Ricardo. I overstepped my limits. I didn't mean to make you angry. I am just a messenger. Besides, if your brother had killed you before the final war, the whole world would have branded him a coward. No one would take him seriously. Believe me, Young Lord Ricardo, your brother just wants to talk."
Ricardo had used various spells to tell if the person in front of him was lying.
His mother, Seliarnevre, had given him a lot of training to distinguish people who were lying.
Ricardo sheathed his sword and took a step back.
"Alright then, lead the way."
The duo walked quickly but silently through the corridors of the Academy.
"How much further is it, and what else will my brother talk to me about?"
"I don't know either, Young Lord Ricardo. I was only told to accompany you. Here we are."
They had arrived at a very inconspicuous classroom at the far end of the academy corridors. Ricardo glanced around. He could only sense the presence of one person around him, but the others might have hidden their presence.
Hmm, a perfect place for an assassination, but I don't think Seth is someone who would do assassinations. Anyway, we'll see now.
Ricardo entered the classroom with these thoughts. He was face to face with his older brother Seth, whom he had only seen once at the entrance ceremony and once in the arena.
Ricardo approached Seth with cautious steps. Seth poured some wine from the jug on the edge of the table into a glass, then stood up and handed the glass full of wine to Ricardo.
"Here, brother, don't be afraid. There is no poison in it. If you want, check it with a spell."
Ricardo directed his mana to his eyes and with the spell called the Eyes That See the Truth, he made sure that there was no poison in the wine.
He took the wine from Seth's hand and drank it. Placing the glass on the table, Ricardo made sure that Seth was not planning anything.
"What do you want, brother? What was your purpose in calling me here?"
Seth gestured with his hand for Ricardo to sit down, but when Ricardo continued to stand, Seth stood up as well.
"I just wanted to talk to you. Not as enemies fighting for the throne, but as brothers."
Ricardo started laughing sarcastically.
"I had no intention of laughing. What are you talking about, Seth, brother? Are we brothers? We have never been brothers in this Dynasty since the day we were born. We were just enemies fighting for the throne."
"Is that so? Who decided this? Our stepmothers tried to kill us as soon as we were born. Our father never even looked at us except for our 14th birthday. Even our mothers only thought of us as tools for their political future. Ah, as you said, we have been enemies in this Dynasty since the day we were born, but maybe it didn't have to be like this."
Ricardo with a surprised expression.
"Where are you trying to go with this, Seth?"
Seth bowed his head and grabbed his hair with his hands as if he was pulling it out.
"I'm tired, Ricardo. I'm tired of killing my brothers. I'm tired of not being able to sleep every night, worrying if the assassin will come. I'm tired of it. I don't want the throne anymore. I'm tired of others dying because of me."
Seth fell to his knees. There was no trace of the man who had terrorized the arena just hours ago.
Ricardo compared Seth's state to one of his sons from his previous life.
"He looks just like him. I wonder if this is a chance to make up for my past mistake," Ricardo thought.
As Ricardo looked at Seth, his past life started to flash before his eyes.
Seeing Seth reminded me of my past. My third son Bartholomeleus was just like him. He was born in a time of endless wars. My poor son.
I made his childhood, which should have been the happiest time of his life, miserable, just like I did to my other sons. This was my biggest regret, my snowy mountain in my heart.
I gave Bartho deadly training on war since his childhood. I made him one of my best warriors. I put him on the front lines of the battlefield.
I wish I hadn't done it. I wish I hadn't gotten that boy involved in these things.
Years followed one another. Bartho's mental health began to deteriorate. I thought he was just pretending to escape the battlefield.
I beat him in front of everyone, I swore at him, I humiliated him. I wish a wasp had stung my tongue so I wouldn't have sworn at him.
I wish my bones had broken so I wouldn't have beaten him. I wish I had been a little more understanding.
After that day, his mental health got worse. He locked himself in his room.
I should have supported him, but instead I pushed him to his limits until he got worse. And that was the point where the cup overflowed. I could never forget that day.
My son was on his knees, in tears.
"Father, I beg you. I can't take it anymore. I can't take killing people, my brothers, my friends. I can't take people's deaths. I beg you, don't drag me into those wars, please."
If only I had been a little kinder to him that day, maybe things would have been different.
I don't deserve to be called father. I am not a father. I always thought my father Clovis was a bad father, but I am worse than him.
I wish I had hugged my son. I wish I had comforted him. Maybe that was all he wanted from me.
But what did I do? I beat him. I broke his bones until they turned to dust.
I humiliated him in a loud voice that the whole palace could hear and left without even looking back.
"Heal him. You will be sent to the front lines tomorrow, Bartholomeleus. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"
My son was lying on the ground like a dead corpse. He answered without looking at me. "Understood, father." This was the last time he would call me father.
The next day I was prepared for war. I was going to go to the battlefield wearing my armor, and at that moment the butler came running to me. He was out of breath and told me that my son had committed suicide.
My world had fallen apart. I fell to my knees. I was in shock. I couldn't get over this shock for hours.
Bartho's death had destroyed my entire family. My sons and grandchildren were distant, cold, unresponsive, and full of hatred towards me. They were right. I deserved all of this.
Ricardo had faced his past that he was trying to forget.
The similarity between Seth and Bartholomeleus might mean that the God of Heaven and Earth is giving me a chance to get rid of my past sins.
Ricardo got down on his knees and hugged Seth. Neither brother said anything for a long time. Ricardo broke the silence.
"I can't say that I fully understand you, but I had an acquaintance who felt the same way as you for a while. I always regretted not giving him enough support that day. You may perceive these words as if I just wanted to ease my conscience. I don't want to lie to you, but know that these words are sincere, brother. Don't blame yourself. Maybe if we weren't born in this Dynasty, we could all be very close brothers. Even if not in this life, if we have another life, let's be good brothers then."
Ricardo hugged Seth, and Seth hugged Ricardo. The two brothers relaxed as they felt the wounds in their hearts close.
Seth looked at Ricardo with emotional eyes. His eyes were filled with pure and true love for his brother.
"Look, Ricardo, I don't want to be a Dynasty Leader. I can't carry that burden. But you can carry it. You have that potential too. You are strong. Your eyes shine like a sage who has lived a hundred years. You should be a Dynasty Leader."
"You know what this means, brother."
"I know. I have to die... I don't want anyone else to die because of me anymore. I don't want any more brothers to kill each other, Ricardo. I don't want your hands to be stained with any more brother's blood."
Ricardo grabbed Seth's hands and gripped them tightly.
"Brother, my hands are already dirty. I killed three of my brothers: Karlmen, Ferlas, Xanros. Two of the three died by my own hands, and I ordered the death of one of them. I don't regret it, and probably won't regret it for the rest of my life."
Seth patted Ricardo's head and a sweet smile appeared on his face.
"Don't be that way, Ricardo. If you regret the ones you killed, if you are weak, your end will be like mine. But I cannot shake the regret of the deaths from my heart. I have so many regrets that I cannot count. My mother Tristina, who raised me to this age, my master Zarek, my friends, my lover, my comrades who sacrificed their lives for me. I know that all their sacrifices and efforts will be in vain, but I cannot wear Kislavein's Fiery Shirt. I cannot carry this burden."
Ricardo asked curiously.
"So what do you want from me, brother?"
Seth stood up and walked towards the door. With his back turned, he said one last thing.
"I just wanted to make sure, Ricardo. Are you strong enough to wear this Fiery Shirt? Leave the rest to your big brother. This will be our first and last conversation before the final battle."
Indeed, it would be like that. Ricardo could not have known, let alone predicted; he could not even have imagined what would happen on the day of the Final Battle.