As soon as a smile spread across the king’s lips, the forest warden sneered.
“How naive.”
This guy… Don’t ruin my performance!
“Chess pieces only leave the board when they’re dead. You say you’ll end the war by killing everyone? Sure, peace will reign when all life is gone and only a barren wasteland remains.”
Lenny glared at the forest warden as if shooting arrows at him.
Watching the two, Tigrinu let out a hearty laugh.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been this entertained. I was already excited that an old friend was visiting, but to think such fun was hidden here.”
Lenny quickly knelt before the king.
“Please don’t scold me for being rude. I only ask that I leave this room in one piece.”
Tigrinu’s laughter faded, and his experienced gaze turned to Martin.
“You raised her well.”
“Thank you for seeing her in a good light.”
Tigrinu nodded and called for his attendant.
“Bring what we prepared.”
A young attendant walked over silently, holding red clothing.
The neatly folded garments were handed to Martin.
“You’ve served Ekillium faithfully for many years, Sir Skalson. I pondered what gift would suit your loyalty.”
Martin unfolded the clothing.
It was a red woolen cloak with a hood, thick enough to be worn even in winter.
But for a royal gift, it was rather plain—no gold embroidery, no special ornaments.
It looks like blood-soaked earth, Leni thought, out of nowhere.
Martin folded the cloak and tucked it under his arm, then placed a clenched fist over his chest in a gesture of gratitude.
“Having met Your Majesty, I’d like to visit my old friends in the palace.”
“Of course.”
The king nodded slightly and pulled something from his waist.
It was a round steel medallion engraved with an eagle crest.
A large hole was on one side, through which a knotted leather string was threaded.
“As long as you carry this pass, you are as good as me. No one will stop you. Go wherever you please.”
“Thank you for your consideration. Then, we’ll take our leave.”
After receiving the pass, Martin signaled Lenny with a glance.
Lenny rose and bowed to Tigrinu.
On their way out of the chamber, they passed by the forest warden.
“You were wrong.”
At her whisper, the forest warden glanced sideways at her.
“Chess pieces don’t leave the board when they die—they leave when they’re captured. Dying and being captured are not the same.”
She spoke in a breath, but perhaps the king heard.
Before the warden could react, Tigrinu burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! My, my. The mighty Red Wolf just got checkmated. Sir Rehat, you’ve lost.”
Ha
Victory is mine!
In front of the king!
But that triumph was short-lived.
Leni felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her.
What?!
The… the Red Wolf?
The forest warden’s brow twitched as he looked down at her.
You’re the Red Wolf?
The one always drenched in blood on the battlefield?
The one even demons flee from…?
That… Red Wolf?
Wait—why is such a famous warrior pretending to be a forest warden?
I nearly died being cheeky to him…
Whether he was displeased or amused by her shocked face, Blayden narrowed one eye before releasing it again.
His features were sharp and well-defined.
Under the sunlight, his eyes looked like a lake—but in this dim room, they were like a deep ocean.
No—more like a treacherous swamp that could swallow someone whole.
Whew, he could kill with just a look.
Lenny swallowed hard and tensed her core.
Don’t let him see you’re scared.
That’ll just entertain him.
While pretending to stay calm, Leni’s eyes wandered over Blayden’s face.
The rumors were exaggerated.
He doesn’t look that scary—not enough to chase off demons.
Well, not exactly a pretty boy either.
His nose was strikingly straight.
His philtrum and lips were proportioned nicely.
A painter would be delighted to capture his portrait.
Hmph!
But looks don’t matter.
A person’s inner character is what counts—respect for others, humility.
That’s what’s important.
Yes, absolutely.
As she mentally insisted on these things, his blue eyes darkened.
“Do you have something else to say, kid?”
Whether mocking or threatening, his voice was low and chilling, bringing Lenny back to her senses.
“N-no, nothing.”
She quickly dropped her gaze and held her skirt with both hands.
Giving the most elegant bow she could muster, she exited the chamber, her nape tingling all the while.
***
The king and the knight remained in the chamber.
“She’s an amusing child.”
But instead of laughter, a shadow of concern crossed Blayden’s face.
“She’s reckless. If she keeps talking like that, her life will be short.”
“And so you stay silent to extend yours?”
Blayden said nothing.
On the armrest of the chair, Tigrinu’s fingers twitched slightly.
How many life-and-death decisions had been made with those fingertips?
It had been 21 years of surviving in fear that one day, he too would be one of those who died.
“Place the chess pieces on the board. I’d like to compete with you again, it’s been a while.”
“You’d have a man returned from the battlefield to play at war?”
“While you were gone, I was surrounded only by sycophants who deliberately lost to me. I missed a game worth playing.”
You threw innocent people into a blood-soaked hell, and now you complain that war has become dull for you.
Is the face of evil always this carefree?
If you want a proper game, then I’ll grant your wish.
Blayden bent down and picked up a chess piece from the floor.
He placed the pieces in their starting positions and sat in the chair still warm with Martin’s body heat.
The king would take white, and he would play black.
“Forgive me for coming back alive.”
“Why would you say such a thing?”
“Was the battlefield not my execution ground? If I had died after unifying the continent, Your Majesty would have had all you desired. Now I’ve become a nuisance to your aging self.”
“Then tell me—how should I deal with such a nuisance?”
“Punish me for treason.”
Tigrinu’s hand froze in mid-air as he was about to make the first move.
“Have you harbored treasonous thoughts?”
“I stole the tyrant’s heart meant to be offered to Your Majesty. And I even lost it. That’s enough treason.”
“To request to become a traitor… Do you think I’d give you the pretext, Blayden Rehart?”
You will give me the pretext.
I’m creating it myself.
“The war to unify the continent is over. But your war begins now. There will be forces that deem you useless and seek to eliminate you.”
You speak as though it’s someone else’s problem.
But aren’t you at the front of that very group?
“You’ve done great deeds, so I’ll protect you.”
Tigrinu picked up the queen and placed it boldly in the center of the board.
A dramatic opening.
No—it ignored the rules altogether.
What was he plotting?
Blayden kept silent, trying not to betray his unease.
Then came a sentence like a blade.
“I will marry you to Kiabel. And I will make her queen.”
I thought I had anticipated every move. But this…?
“Become the queen’s sword. Accept every blade she hands you, and strike where she intends.”
The king was issuing a command Blayden could not obey.
“Even if you don’t want to, you will have no choice. You must survive.”
You’re wrong. Survival is not my wish.
Tigrinu pushed back his chair and gestured behind him.
A portrait of the king in his youth hung on the wall.
“Open the painting.”
Blayden stared at Tigrinu for a moment but said nothing and stood.
His mind was made up, and before the fight began, he wanted to see all the cards his opponent held.
The king’s portrait was drawn on a hinged panel that opened like a book.
When Blayden unfolded it, another painting hidden inside was revealed—a portrait of a young girl facing forward.
Captivating blue eyes.
Hair shining like sunlight.
The shadow of a candle cast soft shadows over her face.
“First time seeing it? That’s your mother as a child.”
Moisture welled in Blayden’s eyes as he stood before the painting.
His origin, the woman whose death had birthed him.
The resemblance was striking.
“She changed everything.”
The king’s lonely voice held a depth of emotion.
“She changed the fate of the continent. What about you, Blayden? Whose fate do you wish to change?”
Blayden swallowed the question.
He had watched Tigrinu, with his ambiguous sincerity and fickle moods, for twenty-one years.
This too was a test—one no clever words could pass.
“You may deceive others, but not me. I raised you. I can read what flows beneath that mask-like face.”
Tigrinu closed his eyes, and a cracked voice emerged from his dry lips.
“Do you remember the first blade I gave you?”
How could he ever forget?
“With it, you split open your father’s body. What would’ve happened if you hadn’t used that blade?”
I would have died.
Or suffered something worse.
Blayden clenched his teeth.
He suddenly realized that the life he thought he had survived had, in truth, been death all along.
Every moment he endured and withstood had torn his young soul to shreds.
“If you refuse to marry Kiabel, I’ll name you my heir. Every blade in the palace will point at you. Do you think you can face them without a single shield?”
“If you’re curious, then hand me the throne. I’ll handle survival on my own.”
“If you truly mean that, then cut down your mother.”
One of the few who could enter the king’s chambers armed—Blayden was one of them.
A privilege?
Or a trap?
“Go on. Just as you split open your father’s chest and pulled out his heart, do the same to your mother.”
Blayden looked down at the longsword at his waist.
His breath slowed as if he were about to strike a final blow, but his hands didn’t move.
The mother who had loved the enemy in life would now become her son’s trap in death?
“Can’t even cut down a painting of your mother? That’s who you are. No matter how cold you act, your heart is kind.”
“You’re mistaken. I only hesitated because the weapon didn’t feel right.”
Blayden drew his sword from its sheath.
The sharp silver blade moved toward the king’s face.
It stopped just before the gray eyes were surrounded by wrinkles.
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