In Eritiria.
After the Atlas departed directly to the Kingdom of the Atlases,
Monrach and the Bourbons assumed leadership of the state during their absence.
With the help of the guards, Hyunkel and Lauk held a grand funeral for Diogenes in Artia.
At first, the Bourbons refused, but after seeing Hyunkel among the crowds, they reconsidered and buried the man in the center of Artia, in the square of the Imperial Palace.
Hyunkel greatly wished to speak with Lauk after what had happened, for he had not seen his old friend in many long years.
And now he saw him at the funeral of their mutual friend.
It was deeply sorrowful.
Lauk had not known happiness in these last years, nor had he rested for a long time.
And now he stood before the body of the man who had been his companion in solitude.
Diogenes had left him in the darkness—this is what Lauk believed.
After the funeral ended the next day, Lauk had to return to Arsia immediately.
But that night, at midnight,
Lauk saw Hyunkel waiting for him in the middle of the desert road from Artia to Arsia.
Hyunkel said, "Hello again, my friend."
The blind man looked toward the sage for a few moments, then smiled, his heart warmed by this meeting.
Lauk said, "Hyunkel. Hello, my friend."
Lauk dismounted from his horse.
The horse raced alongside Hyunkel's gazelle along the road while the two conversed.
Hyunkel said, "How are you? I haven't seen you in a very long time. You look better than the people of Arsia, my friend."
Lauk replied, "I'm fine. And I'm also happy to see you, Master Hyunkel.
In truth, I try to look fine for everyone's sake. They see in me the eye of reason amidst this chaos."
Lauk gazed toward the blowing wind.
He said, "Hyunkel…
You know that people have become helpless after what you and I witnessed that day, right?"
Hyunkel replied, "You're right. I see now two nations:
One that wants hope without doing anything,
and another that wants to create hope."
Lauk said, "And I noticed a third nation—
the one that sought to resolve salvation through adaptation and submission."
The wind blew again, violently this time, striking Hyunkel's cloak and revealing his face.
Hyunkel looked at Lauk with a cold eye glowing under the bright moonlight.
He said, "I see no issue with the Atlas and his principles."
Lauk replied, "And I supported that view, because I saw the same thing."
Hyunkel looked up at the moon.
He said,
"Lauk, do you remember that day with Helkias?
When he trained us in patience?
At first, I thought he was just a fool who would keep chasing us, telling silly jokes everywhere.
I didn't understand the point of making Helkias our trainer at all.
But in the end, after the training was over, I understood.
I began to laugh with Helkias.
I regained my clarity and gained enough flexibility to understand what he meant by those old, silly jokes."
Lauk replied, "As for me, I continued to see him as trivial.
And unlike you, I discovered many ways of stopping Helkias and teaching him a lesson—
once I even bribed him with some food.
But in the final test, I had to pretend to laugh.
I lied to myself, seeking my own self-perfection."
Hyunkel smiled: "Helkias said that was the only exam you ever cheated on, Lauk."
Lauk said, "You won't change my mind, Hyunkel.
I agree with your view of the Atlas, but I will never accept seeing Artia and the Bourbons still enjoying peace.
I will overthrow the democracy you built, if that is what it takes to restore the dignity the scoundrels stripped from Eritiria."
Hyunkel replied, *"The Bourbons will change sooner or later.
Monrach will die before he can do anything against our movement, Lauk.
The other Bourbons are busy drafting the new constitution.
It's been a month since the Atlas left Eritiria.
In that time, you managed to grow a beard in your mourning for Diogenes, instead of thinking about the progress we've made.
The farms are producing again, factories and markets have been expanded to what they were in old Eritiria, foreign trade with Arshia has reopened, the academies have been revived, and Arsia's security restrictions have been eased.
Homes are being rebuilt for the Eritirian people once again.
People now live in houses instead of the tents and animal-like conditions of a month ago.
The national currency has been re-minted—the Atlas coin.
So why must we do what you want, Lauk?"*
The blind man's brows tightened in anger.
He said,
"Hyunkel?!
Are you saying that what we live under now—under the mercy of the Bourbons—is a pleasant life?
In Arsia, every day someone dies from exhaustion because of the labor of reconstruction.
The Bourbons hide the truth: they are enslaving the people in place of the real Atlas laborers."
Lauk approached his dark mare and mounted it.
He looked calmly toward Hyunkel, noting the stillness of the wind.
He said, "I will gather the men in Arsia.
We'll begin overthrowing the Bourbons after the Atlas has left, and we'll hold Monrach hostage."
Hyunkel shattered the silence with his tone.
He said,
"If we hold onto hope and patience, Lauk, we'll be able to reclaim Artia, and after that create a new council instead of the Bourbons—under the command of the Atlas. Then we'll end slavery in Arsia, no matter the casualties.
But if we start a revolution whose outcome we don't know…
Will we kill Monrach and the Atlas?
And then what?
Luzaria will return from Arshia easily to claim her father's throne—exactly what Monrach expected when he signed the constitution.
He hoped we would take such a step so that Eritiria would be poisoned once again."
Lauk replied, "I did not mean that. Of course I won't let the royal family return.
But what I want is the chance to clarify Eritiria's situation to the people of Arshia.
Perhaps the Shah will look upon us, Hyunkel, and support us."
For the first time in all his encounters, Hyunkel spoke in anger:
"I did not do the impossible so that the whore Luzaria can return and place herself amid the glory we built with our own hands, Lauk!"
Lauk drew his sword and held it to Hyunkel's neck.
He shouted,
"Are you truly with Eritiria, or with the Atlas, Hyunkel?"
Hyunkel was stunned by the question.
Only then did he feel the coldness of the conversation.
Lauk continued,
*"If Luzaria returns, I'm sure she'll be bound by the council's authority more than she would ever be a tyrant queen. She couldn't even seize her chance.
What I'm saying is—
Don't trust the Atlas.
But don't trust Luzaria either.
Trust yourself, Hyunkel.
Trust Eritiria.
You asked me what this revolution could create, Hyunkel.
It will create martyrdom.
Helkias granted us hope—
Hope and patience are part of the revolution, you're right.
But that too costs dearly.
We may win.
But I won't accept that Eritiria becomes just another nation—
One that was conquered once and crushed without resistance.
I won't allow the Atlases to defile Eritiria ever again.
So I will be another martyr, to remind the people of Eritiria of their identity."*
Hyunkel asked, "And you would also be placing yourself against Arshia. Will you bear the responsibility of failure, Lauk?"
Lauk replied, "Do not worry—there is always another plan, my friend."
Lauk then disappeared into the darkness toward Arsia.
Hyunkel watched into the night, then quietly walked with his gazelle back to Artia.
He entered the city, now bright and beautiful—families in their homes, offices rebuilt, the local markets expanded and bustling day and night because of his planning.
Men returned from their work, children played joyfully, women sang happiness into their hearts.
But he was alone.
Hyunkel looked at his family's house.
He had sold it to the owner of a restaurant in Arsia and moved there.
He looked at the place one last time.
There he found his armor, his sword, his father's sword, and the helmet left at the door—as though the people of Artia no longer needed such things.
Hyunkel took them and went to the poor quarter.
He found the only tent left standing—his own.
He sat inside and remembered his times with Diogenes, when they talked day and night tirelessly.
Hyunkel in Artia now felt like Helkias once had in the battle of Arsia.
He left the tent and went to the library.
There he found Beatrice working with the others inside, too busy to notice anything outside.
He smiled for a moment, then left the library,
put on his father's sword and armor, wrapped himself in his cloak, and set out across the desert with his gazelle toward Arsia.
He wanted to see her—despite being a wise and rational man.
He missed her.
He truly did everything for her.
So he would not stop that night from continuing toward Arsia.
He dreamed and thought day and night of the same thing Lauk thought of.
For this alone—
For this feeling of longing and pride.
For everyone who died.
For the anger he carried and the sorrow for his friends.
Hyunkel went to Arsia a changed man—
Not stripped of his humanity, but armed with it, using it as his excuse to fight beside his friend in Arsia.
When Hyunkel arrived at dawn the next day,
he stood atop a hill in Arsia beside the statue of Apollo:
"A white knight filled with glory,
Noble, wise, patient with honor,
Radiant, majestic, armed with hope."
His white shroud-woven cloak flew behind his armor.
And only then did the soldiers of the revolution in Arsia cry out at the sight of him.
Even Lauk's morale was renewed when he heard of his arrival.
Yes, blind man—
The wise lion has risen.
Like a raging flood he descended from the hill with his swift gazelle.
The two leaders joined together.
And for the men around them, Eritiria had reunited once more.
At dawn that day, a great battalion of eight thousand rebels from Arsia marched toward Eritiria.
Their armor shattered and old, yet filled with pride.
They seized Arsia immediately and advanced toward Artia.
They clashed with the guards at Artia's gates, and the guards surrendered instantly before the overwhelming numbers and military experience.
After entering Artia, the rebels split—some toward the Bourbons, some toward the Imperial Palace.
They lowered the flag of the Atlases from the palace and raised the banner of Eritiria—
the Griffin, the imperial symbol.
Others captured members of the Bourbon Council in Arsia and Artia, executing some and keeping others for questioning, including Monrach.
Hyunkel entered the Bourbon Council hall that day.
He gripped his sword and approached Monrach in anger.
Monrach trembled with fear, but grabbed a sword and tried to defend himself.
Hyunkel admired his courage, threw aside his own shield, and prepared for the duel.
As soon as the duel began, the swords clashed fiercely until Monrach's blade shattered into tiny pieces.
He fell, deeply wounded in the chest, coughing blood.
Hyunkel caught him, holding his hand and back so he wouldn't collapse.
Monrach's hands stained Hyunkel's shroud with blood, marking it.
Hyunkel said,
"Well done, Lord Monrach. You fought well."
Monrach panted painfully.
He said,
*"Eritiria…
Hyunkel…
I confess my crime.
Forgive me my great sin.
The young man Helkias…
Please… forgive me.
That day, Hyunkel—
Helkias stood alone…"*
Monrach coughed blood as he remembered, while Hyunkel listened in shock to what he was hearing.
Monrach cried out, recalling the scene:
"I am Helkias, the last warrior of the Eritirian Empire!
Today, I fight you alone!
And even if you take me in the weakness of my exhausted body,
I will not go alone—no matter what it costs!"
He fought valiantly, standing amidst the Atlas battalion like a lone light in the night.
Helkias's armor fell—
the legendary golden armor that the three empires bore witness had never fallen in any battle.
Monrach spoke through tears:
"Our enemies cried tears of joy at the sight, Hyunkel…
I looked at my deed then—
I bowed in sorrow and praised Helkias's bravery.
He was a barbaric lion, wild among the flock of his enemies—
Strong, terrifying, a boulder impervious to the blades of his foes."
Monrach continued:
*"I unleashed the fiercest warriors upon him among the soldiers.
And that wounded champion advanced, unafraid—
Helkias of the Broken Wing.
Amid the Atlas soldiers,
he carried Eritiria's last legacy—the Yagon Sword, crafted by the Emperor Apolo himself in honor of his courage.
He advanced while supporting it,
his friend the Griffin behind him struggling with death, giving Helkias one final push before dying among the soldiers.
Helkias lowered the Griffin's lashes, closing his eyes in mourning.
He stood again—
the soldiers trembling in awe at the majesty of that boulder of a man."*
Monrach's voice cracked:
*"Helkias dueled the Atlassian.
Even with his wing severed, after several powerful blows, he managed to bring the Atlas warrior down.
But the lion was panting… exhausted…
He looked around him…
stumbled… and his sword fell.
Helkias tore off his arm guard, then cut off the rest of his arm because it hindered him."*
Monrach recited Helkias's final words:
"'Today I will die.
I will be a lesson to those who stand after me.
I will lie beneath the earth while rebels shout my name.
Even if you kill this body, gentlemen,
this testimony—written in my blood—will be enough to prove that Eritiria endures.'"
Monrach sobbed:
"Helkias fell bleeding in that circle.
The lion died.
Then he vanished in the mist and the crowd of soldiers—
a light unmatched… extinguished after its shining brilliance.
And with him died the last warrior of that civilization…"
Monrach breathed his last in Hyunkel's arms.
Hyunkel and those with him wept bitterly at what they had heard.
To be continued.