Chapter 507: In Front of the Royal Palace
Luxurious gilded satin ornaments lay nestled among the red silk threads of the Sylva Loya Carpet, while golden lamps cast crystal-like soft light.
This was Lichen. The royal palace’s resplendent and opulent colors were illuminated by the morning light, suffused with the chimes of the monastery and hymns, as sacred and majestic as always.
Ig waited silently outside the king’s court.
The silver-haired girl wanted to take his hand and speak softly, but a hint of hesitation appeared on her exquisite, artwork-like little face. In the distance, the king’s guards stood watch over the court, their gold and silver-adorned capes fluttering in the breeze seeping through the high windows.
As if steeped in the fragrance of flowers, the aura of the romantic night was tinged with the hues of white irises. A delicate and soft petal was carried by the wind into the royal palace.
It was already the end of the romantic night… More than a month had passed since the blazing flames that once scorched his body and the flames of rebirth under the pale moonlight.
Although Ig’s consciousness had been nearly nonexistent at that time, after reopening his eyes and seeing the silver-haired young girl beneath him, her flawless delicate body exposed, her eyes red from crying, biting her lips to hold back her sobs, it wasn’t hard to guess what had happened.
But nothing had occurred between Ig and Misaela. He simply turned away, listening to the faint rustling sounds as the girl’s soft sobs accompanied her redressing.
Ig knew his actions had hurt Misaela, especially a girl who had given so much for him. But…
His hand couldn’t help but touch his wrist again. The flame markings had long extinguished, yet he could still faintly feel the pulsating sound of the flames.
Even though he wanted to force himself to forget, that name… and the figure of that radiant young girl, still involuntarily appeared before his eyes.
Suddenly, his wrist was grasped by a soft and tender young girl’s hand. Ig abruptly looked up, and in his eyes appeared Misaela’s delicate face filled with concern and worry.
“Xiao Mi…”
Ig forced a smile, speaking in a gentle voice.
The silver-haired young girl’s sapphire-like eyes gazed at him, a faint light shimmering within the beautiful hues resembling the starry sky. She lightly bit her lip: “Ig, were you… thinking of her just now?”
Ig’s hand trembled involuntarily. He lowered his gaze, his voice becoming dry and hoarse: “I’m sorry, Xiao Mi…”
Back then, he had already resolved to repay Verafia with his life… At that time, his heart was completely desolate.
A young goddess who regarded him as a tool and a pawn… what could he do to change her heart?
…Or perhaps, he intended to escape the difficulties he faced through death.
But he had been revived by the flames.
Ig knew it was also the young girl’s flames… yet the traces between her and him had vanished like the extinguished flame markings, as if deliberately disappearing from his sight, then blessing him and Misaela.
Verafia… the woman who suddenly appeared and illuminated his life—what was she truly thinking in her heart…?
It wasn’t necessarily lingering feelings for him. But like a drowning person, even if it was illusory, he couldn’t help but cling to that faint hope.
“I know… asking you to forget her is something even I can’t do…”
Misaela slightly lowered her eyelashes, her tender lips whispering softly. She wanted to hold the young man tightly, slightly raising her little face:
“And originally, I thought… I wouldn’t force you, wouldn’t bind you with such responsibility… But I’m still a selfish woman, wanting your love… yet still making you feel troubled here…”
A slender and faint voice accompanied the girl’s somewhat forced smile on her cheeks.
Ig remembered the crystalline tears on the girl’s face under the moonlight when he first opened his eyes. At that time, Misaela’s heart had been deeply wounded by him…
The silver-haired young girl sat under the moonlight, silently shedding tears. She wanted to approach Ig, but it seemed her heart told her she shouldn’t trouble him, so she kept her distance from the young man.
It was an unbearably heavy atmosphere.
After the girl reluctantly fell asleep, not wanting to fail her again, Ig, alone, struggled to lift his weakened body, intending to lose himself in the wilderness or… be devoured by passing beasts until his strength was exhausted and consciousness faded.
The next day, when he barely reopened his eyes, what he saw was still Misaela’s anxious and pained little face.
This noble princess had spent hours alone searching for him in the dangerous wilderness: her dress torn by thorns, bloodstains on her skin, her magic exhausted from battles with powerful magical beasts, even her shoes and socks lost.
The girl’s precious, tender, and delicate feet had been bloodied by sharp stones over ten kilometers of walking.
Ig knew… Misaela’s sacrifices, her love for him—were something he could never repay.
And…
The doors of the court were pushed open by knights and attendants. The palace steward, an old man wearing a black robe embroidered with gold, approached Misaela and Ig, giving a slight bow:
“Your Highness, Lord Ig, His Majesty the King has just returned from the council chamber to the court. Please follow me.”
From the border of Brandenberg Castle to the royal domain of Lichen, the normal journey would take at least two months.
But Misaela had been unusually resolute on this matter. She directly sought Marquis Keso and persuaded this Saint Rank lord to personally escort them to Lichen.
The girl’s obvious anxiety and fear were palpable.
Thus, in merely a month, they had returned to Lichen. Afterward, Ig met with Ophi and Elishia, among others—young girls who had been worried about his disappearance.
Only then did he follow Misaela to the royal palace.
Accompanying the palace steward to the king’s chambers, it was clear that Lancaster had just hastily taken his seat, yet he appeared unfazed, smiling as he looked up at them.
The Sacred Sword King’s eyes were as bright as stars, seemingly capable of seeing through any truth or falsehood.
“I just learned from Keso of your return… Never imagined that a traditional trial of Eris could lead to such events.”
“If not for the Sacred Sword imprint still present on you and Misaela, I would have feared you had met with misfortune.”
Lancaster’s gentle voice showed no trace of anger or accusation, only the care of an elder to the younger generation.
——
The plot in the middle was interspersed with memories… Well, perhaps a few more chapters of setup before the climax of this volume.
