The Burden of the Journey
The spiritual victory at the Decaying Shrine of the North felt heavy, almost meaningless, against the backdrop of the political war now raging in the south. Hayate and Neshuda stood alone in the quiet, ruined chamber, utterly exhausted. The ghoul summoner was gone, and the Seal was safe, but Narakka had been handed the entire kingdom on a silver platter by the traitor Henudra.
Hayate was weak, his Angelic bloodline power severely drained. The spiritual wound left by the summoner's attack still ached, but the constant, agonizing noise of the malice was gone, replaced by a hollow exhaustion.
"The throne is empty, Neshuda," Hayate said, leaning against a broken pillar. "Narakka is not a fool. He will have used every moment of our absence. We must get back to the Aurekawa Citadel now."
Neshuda, focused entirely on the King's survival, moved instantly to their horses outside. The Life Anchor's energy was devoted entirely to the physical challenge ahead.
"The horses are rested enough," Neshuda stated, helping Hayate mount. "We ride without stopping. The terrain is brutal, but we can't afford an hour of sleep."
The journey south was a brutal test of the Curse of Reflection. They pushed the horses to their limits, tearing across mountains and plains. Hayate felt the grinding, physical toll of Neshuda's body—the burning agony in his thigh muscles, the severe cramp in his side, the pounding headache from lack of sleep. It was a constant, low-level throb that never ceased.
But with every spike of physical pain, Hayate felt Neshuda's equally strong absolute loyalty and intense, burning determination. This reflected resolve was the only thing keeping Hayate's own depleted body functioning. The pain was their shared engine.
The Kingdom's Infection
As they left the treacherous mountains behind and entered the central provinces, the devastation caused by the political chaos became horrifically clear. The kingdom was breaking under the weight of fear and betrayal.
They saw the first sign of Narakka's success in a small, farming village that had been hastily fortified and draped with dark, unfamiliar banners.
"Those aren't my banners, Neshuda," Hayate murmured, pulling his horse into a hiding thicket. "They look military, but not Royal Guard. They are Narakka's personal soldiers."
Hayate felt the reflected emotions of the villagers watching the soldiers—not fear of a tyrant, but suspicion and anger directed at Hayate.
"Henudra is a master of lies," Neshuda observed, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "He's telling the people that the King abandoned them, that we caused the ghouls, and that Narakka is the strong hand needed to restore order."
Hayate felt the sting of the reflected betrayal—it felt like a spiritual slap in the face. "My charisma can't break through a lie this well-planted. They won't listen to me. They see me as a weak, cursed boy, not a King."
They were forced to bypass major roads, staying to the thick forests and rocky riverbeds. The chaos was everywhere:
Rebels: They skirted small groups of rebels, armed and marching toward the capital, convinced they were fighting for the poor against the corrupt Angelic bloodline.
The Seas: As they approached the coast, they saw it—a massive fleet of foreign, heavily armed ships moving quickly toward the capital's harbor. Neshuda recognized the flags instantly. "It's the Crimson Captain's fleet—The Sea Witch's greatest enemy. Henudra secured his alliance. He's attacking the coast while Narakka attacks the gates."
Hayate realized the true genius of Narakka's coup. It wasn't just a military attack; it was a perfectly orchestrated distraction to fragment the entire Royal Guard's focus.
The Shared Truth of the Curse
They stopped briefly at the edge of the Veldiswall plains, the final stretch of open ground before the capital. The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in desperate shades of orange and black.
Hayate slid off his horse, his body immediately collapsing onto the grass, trembling from exhaustion and the massive, combined reflected pain. He was near his breaking point.
Neshuda was immediately at his side, ignoring his own grinding agony. He didn't try to heal Hayate, knowing the King's healing aura was too depleted. He simply sat beside him, projecting warmth and silence.
"You're fading, Hayate," Neshuda stated, his voice tight with raw concern. "I feel it. If I push any harder, the curse will tear you apart."
Hayate shook his head weakly, reaching out to grasp Neshuda's calloused hand. "It's not just your exhaustion, Neshuda. It's the sheer scale of the kingdom's despair being reflected. The curse is amplifying the chaos. It's making me feel the collapse of the kingdom."
He looked into Neshuda's dark eyes, filled with fear and absolute love.
"I was afraid of this, Neshuda," Hayate confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I was afraid that if I allowed myself to deeply like and love you, the curse would become a weakness. I feared the pain would break me, and the kingdom would fall."
Neshuda squeezed his hand tightly. "I was afraid too, Hayate. I hated the curse because it made me hurt you. I pushed you away to save you from my own stray emotions, from my inevitable failure."
"But the truth we learned in the archive proved the opposite," Hayate insisted. "The curse is a Divine Protection. It forced us to rely on each other. When the summoner tried to kill you, the curse armed you with my rage and resolve. The only way to survive Narakka's war is to use the curse, to use the pain, to use our bond."
Neshuda took a deep, shuddering breath. The guilt, the fear, and the self-hatred that had plagued him for years finally burned away, replaced by pure, cold determination.
"Then I will share all my strength with you, King," Neshuda vowed, his voice a low rumble. "I will not hide my resolve. I will be your weapon."
Hayate managed a small, tired smile. "Good. We ride into the fire, together."
The Burning Citadel
They rode the final distance in the fading light, crossing the vast, open plains. As they reached the final ridge, they saw the capital and the Aurekawa Citadel in a scene of absolute chaos.
The War of the Last Kingdom was in full swing.
The harbor was a sea of fire and smoke as The Sea Witch's loyal ships fought desperately against the heavier forces of the Crimson Captain.
The city streets were dark, broken by flashes of steel and the cries of fighting men.
The massive outer walls of the Aurekawa Citadel were surrounded by Narakka's rebel forces, all wearing the usurper's dark banners.
Hayate felt a sudden, massive, terrifying spike of panic and spiritual chaos reflected from the capital. The fear was no longer passive; it was screaming from thousands of souls trapped in the violence.
"They've started! It's too late!" Hayate gasped, his body shaking violently from the psychic reflection.
But then, his Angelic senses focused, piercing the smoke and the chaos. He saw the Citadel's main gate.
The gate, which should have been sealed and defended by loyal Royal Guards, was slowly, deliberately swinging inward. It was an act of profound, calculated treason.
Standing in the main courtyard, calmly coordinating the stream of Narakka's troops pouring into the outer perimeter, was Henudra.
Henudra, the master manipulator who had escaped the shrine, had fulfilled his promise. He was not leading the coup, but he was coordinating it, ensuring Narakka walked straight into the heart of the capital unopposed.
"It's a complete rout," Neshuda hissed, drawing his sword and preparing to charge. "Narakka is inside the perimeter. Henudra has handed him the castle key."
Hayate stopped him, grabbing his arm with surprising strength. He looked at the chaos, then at Henudra's cold, triumphant face in the distance.
"If we charge, we are just two men against an army, Neshuda. We are not soldiers; we are a spiritual weapon," Hayate stated, his voice low and hard with regal resolve. "We don't fight the army. We fight the King. We go for the head."
Hayate pointed toward the Citadel, now a fortress under siege.
"We infiltrate the Citadel and take the throne back. The spiritual war is done. Now, we win the political one. We show Narakka that the King and his Life Anchor cannot be broken."