Two men stood at the edge of a wind-beaten mountain cliff. From here, the rolling hills and snowy fields stretched endlessly toward the horizon, where the grand silhouette of the Delcra Estate lay bathed in the amber light of an evening sunset.
Reinhardt folded his arms, his gaze sweeping over the quiet land.
"So this is the Delcra Dukedom, huh…" His tone carried no admiration, just blunt observation.
Kael chuckled under his breath.
Reinhardt turned toward him, one brow raised.
"What's so funny?"
"Not everyone needs a master to keep living," Kael replied, stepping over to sit on a large, weather-smoothed stone. "These people… they're not slaves. They don't need a chain around their necks to survive."
Reinhardt studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You talk like you're above all that. But I'm not like you, Kael. I'm not someone's slave."
Kael laughed again, softer this time. "You're right… You're free. But me? I'm bound… by this kingdom, by this war… by this cursed destiny."
There was a weight in his words—enough that Reinhardt could almost feel the iron shackles Kael spoke of, even though none were visible.
Kael's eyes wandered toward the estate in the distance. "Most of our comrades came from around here. It's the nearest border between the Human Realm and the Demon Realm. They've lost their homes, their families. Delcra has been empty for so long… yet it still stands."
The two fell silent, the sunset fading into the deep indigo of night. Stars began to prick the sky.
Reinhardt sighed and tilted his head up toward them. "One day… I'm going to be the King of this land—no… the Emperor."
Kael's head snapped toward him. "Huh? Emperor?"
"When I am," Reinhardt said, smiling faintly, "I'll give this land to you, Kael."
Kael blinked, his expression somewhere between disbelief and confusion. "You're… serious?"
"I bet you'd make a good ruler," Reinhardt said, walking up and placing both hands firmly on Kael's shoulders.
Kael stiffened slightly at the unexpected touch.
"And then," Reinhardt continued, "there will be nothing binding you anymore."
Kael's eyes widened. Then, slowly, he smiled. "…Then I'll help you become a good Emperor. No… the greatest Emperor ever."
Reinhardt grinned—and in a sudden, almost theatrical gesture, he dropped to one knee before Kael, bowing his head.
"My hero. My Kingsmaker. I take your word as your promise."
Kael stared at him for a long moment… then laughed quietly. "You're ridiculous." But the smile on his face didn't fade.
-----------------------------------------
Snow still swirled outside in the dark as Elric pressed her hands desperately against Kael's chest, her tears falling unchecked.
"Please… Kael… don't leave me again…"
His lips were turning blue, his skin pale as ivory.
"Elric! We have to bring the Young Master to the castle first!" Robert's voice cut sharply through the panic. He reached for her hands. "Let me do it—"
SLAP!
Elric smacked his hand away, still shaking Kael. "No!"
Robert's patience snapped. PANGG! His palm struck her cheek hard enough to stun her into stillness.
"Calm down!" he barked. "We have to move him to the mansion—now!"
Elric sat frozen, staring at him, while Robert moved quickly, lifting Kael's limp form into another carriage.
"His heart hasn't stopped," Robert said firmly after checking again. "But his pulse is weak. Very weak."
He met her eyes. "I am his healer. I will heal him. So calm yourself." His tone wasn't his usual calm—this was an order.
Elric inhaled deeply, forcing herself to wipe her tears. She shed her winter suit—the western air was warmer than the north—and followed Robert to the carriage. When he offered his hand, she took it without a word and climbed in.
Inside, Robert held Kael's hand in one of his own, pressing his other palm over Kael's chest as faint healing runes glowed between them.
Elric sat close, no longer crying, but her eyes never left Kael's face.
The Delcra Castle loomed in the snowy night, lanterns burning brightly as servants gathered. The air inside was thick with tension. They had prepared to welcome their long-lost master with celebration—only to see him carried in, unconscious.
Kael was taken straight to the master's chamber. A healer and several mages rushed in.
"Please… open your eyes…" Elric whispered, clutching his cold hand.
An older man in a crisp black suit stepped forward with a bow. "It is an honor to meet you, Duke Vaelthorn, Sir Robert. I am Sebastian, Head Butler of the Delcra Estate. This is our private healer, Sir Angus."
Robert cut the introductions short. "We don't have time—his pulse is weak, breathing barely there."
Sir Angus immediately began his work, murmuring alchemical incantations as faint green light pooled over Kael's body.
Robert and Elric stepped aside to give the healer space. Sebastian poured tea for them, but Elric only sat, staring into nothing.
"We came here because Reinhardt suggested it," she murmured, "and now what we feared most… is happening right in front of us."
She turned sharply toward Sebastian. "Reinhardt said his sword is here, right?"
"Yes," Sebastian said, "but… only Master Kael and His Highness can reach it."
Robert frowned. "What about a royal bloodline?"
Sebastian's eyes lowered. "When His Majesty first brought the sword here, its mana drained him. He had to stay in the castle for over a week to recover."
Elric and Robert exchanged stunned looks. Even Reinhardt… brought low?
"Then why did he say the sword could heal him? How are we supposed to bring it to him if we can't even touch it?" Robert's voice carried a rare edge of frustration.
Sebastian hesitated—then said quietly, "We do… keep a fragment."
"A fragment?" Elric's head snapped up. "The sword is broken?"
"Yes," the butler said. "After the final battle with the Demon King, Master Kael shattered it himself. His Highness brought the pieces here—five in total—and entrusted us to guard one."
He opened a small wooden box and handed it to Elric. "This piece absorbs far less mana than the whole blade. We can handle it safely."
Even through the box, Elric could feel the hum of mana. She opened it slowly. Inside lay the sword's handle—Kael's sword.
"This… might be the first step," she whispered.
She hurried to Kael's bedside. His face was pale, almost lifeless. Carefully, she placed the sword handle on his chest.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then—Kael's body shuddered. He gasped faintly, though his eyes remained closed.
The healer was at his side instantly, checking him again. "His pulse… it's back to normal. Fever's dropping too."
Relief broke over Elric's face. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she took Kael's hand. "I'm glad… you're getting better," she whispered.
"He should wake in a few hours," the healer said. "Please call me when he does."
The healer left, and Sebastian looked at the two exhausted nobles. "Duke Elric, Sir Robert… Why don't you rest? I'll show you to your rooms."
Robert sighed, then turned to Elric. "Go. I'll let you know the moment he wakes."
Elric, after a long pause, nodded and left with a servant.
"Good job keeping this estate in order," Robert said quietly.
Sebastian smiled faintly. "Even if Young Master isn't here, this land holds his memory. The people he saved… many of us are still here, waiting."
He walked to Kael's side, took his hand, and knelt, pressing Kael's fingers to his forehead.
"I have waited to serve a master since I was born in this land. And Duke Kael deserves it… more than anyone."