SLDS 1

A heavy shadow of death hung over the underground prison.

Not a single ray of sunlight reached it, and it was so cold that one’s very bones and flesh felt frozen. This was less because of the low temperature and more because the terror and fear of those trapped inside had consumed the space.

The deeper one went, the more severe the conditions became.

Rotten mold covered everything, and rats and insects swarmed everywhere. The air was so thick with the old, fishy smell of blood and the excrement prisoners had carelessly relieved themselves of that it was difficult to even breathe.

Yuria carefully made her way, following the light of a torch. The cries of prisoners begging for their lives could be heard from all sides. Forcing herself to ignore them, she stepped onto the pitted stone floor, and the hem of her light green dress was soaked and blackened by the filthy water.

“Yuria, watch your step.”

“…Yes.”

The man walking ahead of her slowed his pace and guided her to a more level path.

They passed by the dense bars and headed to the very end. The place the two arrived at was a little different from the prison cells they had seen so far.

It was the only cell with a window. It was too high to reach, but from there, one could at least watch the sun rise and set from a distance.

A dim shadow of the moon poured in through the small window. The unusually sorrowful moonlight shone on one person.

The person inside the prison showed no reaction even after hearing the signs of their approach. He simply kept his head down with his eyes closed, not even caring when a rat came and gnawed on the dry bread placed beside him.

The clothes the man wore were, at a glance, high-quality.

But his emaciated wrists and bare feet, visible through the clothes, were not sound in a single spot, and a thick chain was fastened around his slender nape.

It was as if to prove that he, who had once been in a position higher than anyone, had fallen to the very bottom.

His dark brown hair, which had always given off a fragrant scent and flowed with a glossy sheen, had long since become matted and cracked, stiff with sweat and dust. Dark scabs had formed where his fingernails and toenails had been pulled out. They were the traces of horrific torture.

Cecil had committed a grave sin. He had once boasted power comparable to the Crown Prince in the Verca Empire, but now he was imprisoned in the deepest, darkest part of the underground prison.

The man leading the way, Claude, used his position as the Knight Commander to easily open the prison gate. His sleek leather boots stepped onto the cold ground. Even at the distinct sound of footsteps, the prisoner did not stir. Whether he was dead or alive, not even the chain moved.

“The sentence has just been passed.”

A heavy voice delivered the news.

Only then did his limp arms flinch. The connected chain clattered with a rusty sound, sliding down below his hunched shoulders.

Cecil barely managed to lift his eyelids. Despite the harsh torture, his face was still pale and noble.

The moment he saw the emerald eyes, Claude scowled as if looking at something loathsome.

That damn bastard, he’s still looking down on people even at a moment like this.

“Tomorrow morning, you will be exiled to the Black Forest.”

At those words, Cecil let out a hollow laugh. He was smiling, but his face looked as if it would crumble at any moment.

“That’s a more generous punishment than I expected. I thought they would at least behead me.”

“That’s because you have so many of your own people in the Council of Elders. I guess you’re reaping the benefits of earnestly sweet-talking the nobles all this time.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Claude. You know this is a dog’s death, too.”

Claude glared at Cecil with a face that had gone cold. He knew the truth. Even well-trained knights easily lose their lives in the Black Forest. Entering the monster-infested forest without any weapons was no different from a suicide mission.

“Why on earth did you do such a thing? What did you have to gain by killing Yuria?”

Claude approached to just before his feet and asked. If it were up to him, he would twist that thin neck and break it right now, but now that the sentence had been passed, he could not touch him. His tightly clenched fists trembled as he suppressed his flaring temper.

“You’re curious about that now? Do you think I’m going to tell you something I wouldn’t say even after having all ten of my fingernails pulled out?”

“You despicable traitor.”

“As if it’s anything new.”

Even after hearing the curse, Cecil smiled faintly. The skin on his dry lips tore from the forced pull of his mouth’s corners. A deeper shade of blood spread across his already red lips.

“I knew you were tough, but I didn’t know you’d keep your mouth shut until the end. Did you not think the empire could fall if you leaked confidential information?”

A month ago, Cecil had sold the empire’s secrets to an enemy nation in exchange for commissioning the kidnapping and murder of Yuria Beatrice. Fortunately, the Crown Prince and the knights he led were able to rescue Yuria just before she met a terrible fate. At the same time, all of Cecil’s deeds were brought to light.

It was a matter that would have been justified with an immediate execution, but a formal trial was held solely because he was a member of the imperial family.

Cecil’s biological mother, Empress Elizabeth, desperately tried to have her son’s sins forgiven, while the Crown Prince, Alexis, sought to pass a fitting sentence on Cecil. The stubborn fight that lasted for a week ultimately ended in the Crown Prince’s victory.

“It was just that I hated that woman that much. I wanted her to disappear from this world.”

At the candidly uttered truth, Claude’s patience collapsed. An arm shot out, just about to grab Cecil’s neck.

“Claude, please! Don’t do that!”

A delicate voice instantly stopped the man’s action. Unable to watch any longer, Yuria had followed him into the prison cell. The woman with the small frame knelt on the bare floor, unconcerned about her dress getting dirty.

“Cecil. I don’t believe that everyone will like me. There must be a reason why you have such hatred for me.”

Then, a small, warm hand came to rest on the back of Cecil’s arm. Though she was easily frightened, she offered warm comfort. It was just like the saintess who loved all people.

At that, Cecil burst into laughter as if he had lost his mind.

“You still haven’t come to your senses, have you? You pathetic woman. I tried to kill you. You dare to pity me? Are you even in a position to do so?”

“That bastard, still…!”

It was Yuria’s hand that stopped Claude as he burst out in indignation. She gave him a stern look with her eyes, then turned her head again.

“Cecil. You are a tender and weak person. I know better than anyone that you are not evil by nature.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Yuria! Have you forgotten what humiliation you suffered because of him? He’s not even worthy of your pity!”

The shrill shouting was deafening. It was simply laughable to see Claude, who was frantic with the desire to kill him, and Yuria, who forgave everything like a saintess, putting on a farce right before his eyes. Cecil looked down at the floor and let out a dry laugh.

“…If you came here to hear an apology from me, then forget it.”

“An apology is not necessary. I just wanted to pray for you.”

“…”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t persuade His Highness.”

At the words that came from her mouth, the corners of Cecil’s eyes stung. Not because Yuria’s sincerity had reached him, but because her words reminded him of someone else.

“May God’s protection be with you.”

Yuria tilted her head and kissed Cecil’s roughened left cheek. Unlike the rumors of the world, no special energy could be felt in the saintess’s blessing. But Cecil felt his heart become more at ease than ever before.

“I… don’t believe in God.”

He forced down the sobs that rose in his throat. Cecil did not shed a single tear, determined to maintain his selfish and cunning true self.

“He has never once granted my prayers.”

The empty monologue escaped him. Yuria gazed at Cecil with eyes full of sorrow.

“He said this is the last favor he bestows.”

“…”

Yuria silently placed the dagger she had brought with her on the floor.

The luxurious jewels embedded in the sheath and hilt could not shine properly in the dark underground prison. However, the crest engraved on it was clearly visible to Cecil’s eyes.

A valiant lion and shield, symbolizing the imperial family. Two swords.

The undeniable proof that only the heir of the empire could possess.

He had committed atrocious acts just because he wanted this. But the truth was, he had only wanted the person who possessed it. He had lived for years doing foolish things, stupidly not even knowing his own heart.

From the moment the Crown Prince’s sword was brought out, Claude could not let down his guard. He had to quickly separate the two, just in case Cecil harbored ill intentions and laid a hand on Yuria.

While he ushered a hesitant Yuria back outside the prison, Cecil could only stare blankly at the dagger left deserted before his feet.

“It is too precious a thing to give to the likes of you.”

Claude, who had returned, said in a sharp voice.

“…Indeed. What am I supposed to do with this?”

Contrary to his indifferent reply, Cecil’s gaze was full of affection. It was so precious he could not even touch it, so he took in the dagger the Crown Prince had given him only with his eyes.

The reason the Crown Prince had sent the dagger was obvious. Once exiled to the Black Forest, Cecil’s fate would be to either be torn to death by monsters or to starve to death. It would be one of the two.

If that was the case, he was probably telling him to take his own life in a manner befitting royalty. The Crown Prince’s final mercy was terribly cold, and just like him.

“He said he will personally see to retrieving your corpse. Though you won’t be buried within the capital, it will be better than becoming crow food.”

“Ha, how very kind of him.”

Cecil quietly closed his eyes. A maelstrom of countless emotions raged inside him. He chewed them down and swallowed them back into his throat. His trembling eyelids lifted with difficulty. His emerald eyes, soaked in regret, stared at the Knight Commander’s sullen face.

“You said you were curious about the reason, didn’t you?”

“…”

“Make a deal with me. If you teach me how to use a sword, I will tell you the truth.”