The wine filled two glasses on the table.
The Emperor and the Duchess.
The two rulers shared the glasses and smelled the fragrance. Dusk Bringar spoke first.
“This brings back memories.”
“It’s the Everblack Western Mountain wine you used to enjoy.”
“No need for formalities. It’s that wine made in the borderlands between the duchy and the empire.”
“That’s right. It’s a bottle from this summer’s production.”
Dusk Bringar lifted the glass, observing the red wine against the sunlight.
“The borderlands were all burnt to the ground; impressive that wine was still produced.”
“The war between our nations has stopped, and more than a year has passed. They managed to restore the farms quickly.”
“Hmph, fruit grown from soil soaked with blood and ashes…”
Dusk Bringar took a small sip of the wine with her crimson lips, then swallowed it down her slender throat.
“I thought it might taste of blood, but it’s merely sweet. Oh well.”
“Do you like it?”
Not just the taste of the wine.
It was a question of whether she was satisfied with the aftermath of the war between the empire and the duchy as well.
The Everblack Empire had poured substantial support into the recovery of the Bringar Duchy. Generous compensation was paid, and manpower and materials were provided.
This wine, once again produced in the borderlands between the two countries, was a symbolic token of that.
“…”
Dusk Bringar remained silent.
No matter how sincerely the Everblack Empire apologized, the resentment in her heart would not disappear. Lives trampled upon and honors shattered could never be returned.
However, she had no choice but to accept that apology.
A king must live not for yesterday’s vengeance but for tomorrow’s glory. Not for the sorrow of fallen soldiers but for the joy of the living people.
Other fallen kings gathered at the World Guardian Front were in the same predicament as Dusk Bringar.
Emperor Traha, and the Everblack Empire, had quietly approached them, forcibly washing away past grievances and offering an undeniable peace.
There was a reason the Emperor visited a few days early before the festival.
Negotiations with the fallen kings gathered here at the front had mostly concluded.
While the World Guardian Front fought desperately against monsters, the world’s politics were being reshaped from the ground up.
“I will make Ash the next emperor.”
The Emperor, holding his glass and savoring the aroma, murmured softly.
“To do so, I intend to bear all the darkness that remains in the empire myself.”
“…”
“Ash is brilliant. But he is pure. Whether that purity can translate into popularity, I don’t know, but that alone won’t be enough to govern the world.”
Soft.
Unbearably soft.
From the standards they uphold to the ideals they seek to protect…
“Anyone who tries to negotiate is human, and as humans, we must protect them all.”
The Emperor chuckled.
That softness, that purity, that great cause—everyone is enchanted by them and fighting together here. But that’s only effective as long as there is a common enemy.
Once the monstrous crisis is over, the world will once again descend into a free-for-all conflict. The Emperor wanted to prepare for that time.
“That child… doesn’t know darkness. Purity might be necessary to protect the world for now. But for the century to follow, darkness is required.”
“…”
“I will enter that darkness instead. I will bear all the hatred and resentment Everblack has sown and bury it with me.”
Dusk Bringar smirked and gave a piercing look.
“All these stories, aren’t they for after we’ve saved the world from destruction?”
“Preparing for the future is also the responsibility of a monarch.”
“Defeating the present foe is also a part of that responsibility. The monsters are no easy enemy. Especially, the next one… even more so.”
The next foe—Black Dragon.
Dusk Bringar bit her lip at the thought, then looked back at the Emperor.
“As long as Ash is the commander here at the front, his life will continue to be in danger. Perhaps worry about that first?”
“That’s why I’ve given the Glory Knights to Ash.”
The Emperor nodded gravely.
“With that order, they will protect Ash. Even if it means engulfing him in darkness.”
“…”
Dusk Bringar sighed and shook her head.
“They’re not knights. They’re demons who would plunge anything into darkness for the sake of the empire’s light.”
Imperial demons.
Another name for the Glory Knights. And at that mention, the Emperor burst into a hearty laugh.
“The one who made the Glory Knights into such a demonic order, isn’t that you?”
“…”
Dusk Bringar looked down with her amber eyes.
The Bringar Duchy had always been the shield of the Everblack Empire, fighting alongside the empire in wars as the vanguard.
The position of commander of the Imperial Guards, the Glory Knights, had been held by the Duchess of Bringar for generations.
Thus, Dusk Bringar too had once led the Glory Knights as their commander.
During the racial wars a hundred years ago, Dusk Bringar, as both the Duchess of Bringar and the commander of the Glory Knights, led the charge against other races, burning their lands and at the same time, protecting the emperor.
“…The Emperor at that time had requested it.”
And in the midst of this fierce war.
In the face of the desperate counterattacks by the allied forces of different races, as loyal knights fell by the dozens, and the Emperor, having overcome death multiple times, requested of her.
“We need an invincible army.”
Unbeatable.
It didn’t have to be the strongest. Just an army that would never lose and could hold the front lines… one that could surely protect the Emperor.
“My blood carries the oath of the guardian dragons to protect the empire. I… couldn’t refuse the request of the Emperor at that time.”
Curses, magic, forbidden arts…
And dragon blood.
Utilizing all dark and dirty means.
The Glory Knights, once simply the Emperor’s personal guard, were reborn as invincible monsters that could never be defeated.
And the one who had created them was none other than Dusk Bringar.
“The darkest shadow among the many darknesses of the empire… That is the Glory Knights. And you were once the vanguard leading that darkness.”
“At that time, I believed it was the right thing to do.”
Dusk Bringar was young too.
It was a hundred years ago from now, she was just about twenty years old.
The young Dragon Lady was naïve, and the country inherited from her predecessor was engulfed in war.
She had to do whatever it took, easily reaching into the darkness.
The knights she created were powerful, and ultimately, both the empire and the duchy won the war.
…
The messy life continued, and the messy legacy she left behind also continued to twist and distort.
Under the pretense of patriots, in the form of demons.
“Darkness is necessary not only in politics but also on the battlefield.”
Dusk Bringar glared at the wine glass with bitterness, and Traha gently changed the subject.
“Just as the Glory Knights have, I believe you… will also bear that darkness in place of Ash.”
“Hmph.”
Dusk Bringar snorted.
“Your youngest son will shine even in the darkness.”
Ash was not merely foolishly pure.
The young prince had experienced countless deaths and realized his limits.
He knelt before the harsh reality, became frustrated, and blamed his own weak convictions until he finally broke.
And yet, despite that… he stood up again.
That was why his purity was all the more valuable.
Having experienced the cruelty and bitterness of the world, yet never giving up, that goodness he grasped again after once letting go was what made it great.
Both the Emperor and the Duchess became villains willingly, as rulers, because they realized early on that ideals, though beautiful, were naïve tantrums hard to actualize.
But both vaguely knew.
That it was an excuse of those who had given up.
Because maintaining purity is difficult, painful, hurtful, and above all, not very profitable…
They, who had let go, were perhaps the weak ones.
That the young prince, still struggling to hold onto that purity, might actually be the true strong one.
“The light emitted by your son, by its brilliance… might even influence and melt away the demons.”
Like the warmth of a bonfire encountered on an autumn plain as winter approaches…
“Ah.”
Suddenly, Dusk Bringar closed her eyes and reminisced about that day two years ago.
— You’ve traveled a long way… Come, hurry up.
— The southern fortress city, an independent route for all who fight monsters, Crossroad.
The warmth emitted by the boy that day was truly warm…
So much so that she melted away, unable to maintain her dignity.
As Dusk Bringar gulped down the remaining wine, Traha cautiously asked.
“Will you also melt away like that?”
“…”
“Like the previous Duchesss… will you dissipate into bubbles?”
Thud.
Dusk Bringar placed the empty glass on the table and grinned with a wise smile.
“I have lived too long, Traha.”
“…”
“Live a long life. Live long and bear the darkness of the empire in place of Ash, as you said. Bear as much as you can.”
Traha sensed it.
That here, now, was a turning point of fate.
For the world, and for the dragon-blooded duchess before him, who bore the guise of a girl…
“Instead, I will… as you said, stand by his side, guarding that bonfire.”
The world is dark.
Once this autumn passes, winter will be upon us. The rain will be cold, the wind chilly, and the frost will bite into the flesh.
Winter night is coming. The lord of the night— Night Bringer will personally draw its curtain.
Like setting a controlled fire to stop a blaze. If darkness is needed to stop darkness, then yes. She will willingly become that spearhead.
Her past mistakes… the imperial demons, if necessary, she would use them all.
To protect this small bonfire.
Dusk Bringar resolved, and without having to say it aloud, Traha could read her intent.
From then on, the two rulers silently exchanged glasses.
“I’m reminded of the day I first met Day-Bringer, the previous Duchess.”
Inhaling the scent of the last glass, Dusk Bringar whispered low.
“That day was also an autumn festival.”
“What was the scene like at the festival a century ago?”
“How would it be any different from now? Drinking, dancing, singing, and…”
Hesitating for a moment before adding more, Dusk Bringar chuckled.
“So this is how my last festival goes.”
“What do you mean? It’s just the beginning.”
The Emperor stood up, extending an arm.
“Let’s go. The festival goes on day and night for the next three days. Go, laugh, and enjoy. No, you must.”
“…”
“I’ll escort you for a change.”
Dusk Bringar, looking up at the Emperor with sharp eyes, sighed deeply.
“I’d much prefer your son to you…”
“Hahaha! I hope you find your conscience before we head out.”
“Fine. A case of making do with what you have, I suppose.”
After lightly draping a travel cloak over her negligee and slipping her feet into comfortable sandals.
The Dragon Lady walked out with the Emperor’s escort.
And they slowly started walking towards Crossroad, where the festival was in full swing in the afternoon.
***
“Everyone seems happy.”
At the roof of Etti’s Honey.
Dressed in a gown, Hecate, wearing a large-brimmed hat pushed down, and with a white parasol slung over her shoulder… had spread a mat and sat on the rooftop.
“…”
She gazed at the cityscape with a distant look.
People laughing, chatting, drinking, being happy.
“Yes, I chose this form to protect such a scene.”
Hecate’s lips, which had been faintly smiling, slowly lost their mirth.
“But, still…”
In the square not far off, Lucas, amidst a group of heroes, was seen engaging in a drinking contest.
His opponent, a silver-furred werewolf, jovially gulped down several beers in succession before finally reaching his limit and tumbling backwards.
Cheers erupted all around, and Lucas stood up, raising his empty glass to the sky before tumbling down sideways himself.
People burst into laughter, and a brown-haired priest rushed to Lucas, casting a healing spell on him.
A platinum-blonde knight quickly began doodling on Lucas’s face with a pen, while a pointy-hatted mage prepared a hangover cure beside them.
Watching this scene, the dark-haired lord— Ash, clutching his stomach with laughter, flinched as other heroes approached with evil grins.
Being dragged away as the next participant in the drinking contest, Ash screamed. Everyone chanted Ash’s name, mixing all sorts of alcohol in his glass.
Watching such joyful and happy moments of her old classmates, Hecate buried her face in her arms.
Between her dress’s long sleeves and white gloves, bandages inscribed with magic runes were briefly visible.
Smelling the odious scent of blood emanating from her body… Hecate murmured softly.
“…I kind of want to be a little spiteful.”
–TL Notes–
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