If I were to recall that day, the first thing that comes to mind is the damp air inside the prison.
The stone prison, built beside the waterway, carried the desert’s heat in its moisture, drifting in the atmosphere and creating an unpleasant feeling.
Bound as I was, sweating and suffocating made every moment tormenting.
But the most terrifying thing was not the current situation—it was the fear of what was to come.
“Though we were young, we were ten years old. It was an age old enough to have some sense of judgment, and we could hear the outside situation through the passing guards.”
The king will be executed. The returning Lion Corps will be killed on the spot.
Every time such news reached us, Usher held back tears.
Gester was worse. He banged his head on the iron bars and screamed.
He appealed to the guards’ emotions. They ignored him.
In the chaos caused by the rebellion’s tyranny, that was the only thing they could do.
Every memory we could recall was grim.
We were withering at the edges of beautiful moments.
It was unclear whether we had slept or stayed awake as the night passed. By the next noon,
“An assault. That’s what we heard.”
Vibrations and explosions erupted.
Usher cheered. The Lion Corps had returned, they said. They had come to save us and set everything right.
He shouted this to Gester.
Gester held onto hope as well.
The vibrations grew closer, eventually reaching the prison.
Bang—a loud noise rang out, and we looked up.
A familiar silhouette appeared.
“The commander had come to save us.”
At that moment, we smiled brightly. We thought everything would be okay.
Up until that point.
“…His body was riddled with wounds. The bleeding was so severe that it seemed a miracle he was still standing.”
We couldn’t understand.
How had the man once called Baern’s strongest ended up in such a state?
In our young minds, we tried to deny reality at some point.
We thought, perhaps, it was just a disguise.
But that was merely escapism.
The commander forced his staggering body to rise and tore open the prison’s iron bars.
He held Usher and Gester, speaking as he carried us out.
It was only then, outside in his arms, that we understood why he was so gravely injured.
“…The commander had harmed no one. He merely endured their onslaught to force his way to the prison.”
Usher pressed his lips together tightly.
He forgot to speak to Bersia, lost in his recollections of that day.
-Why?! Why!
He voiced words of resentment.
Why hadn’t he fought back properly, even as his body was pushed to such a state? It was so frustrating that he lashed out at the commander.
The commander replied.
-Because we are lions, Usher.
That one sentence explained everything.
The Lion Corps—the royal family’s chosen elite mercenaries, Baern’s protectors, and the idols of all mercenaries.
Their swords were meant to face external enemies.
They could not be turned against Baern’s people caught in the turmoil.
-Run, Usher. At the far end, the deputy commander will be waiting. If you flee beyond Baern, never return. Live your life.
His signature white greatsword glinted under the sun.
The sword was so broad that it was called a shield-sword, as wide as an adult man’s torso.
In the end, the commander used that sword to protect Usher.
-Live, Usher. Please, do so. That will be enough for us. If you live with a smiling face, our deaths will not be in vain.
A final word can sometimes leave a permanent mark.
The commander’s words and smile did just that.
-I love you, our eternal little lion.
Those words pushed Usher forward.
He ran, never looking back. The last sight he saw was the mercenaries’ faces, choking back tears as they drove their swords into the commander.
Afterward, pursuers followed, but the Lions of Therbion stood in their way.
Usher was carried onward. In Hwaran’s arms, clinging to Kyle’s waist, flung by Menten’s magic, and hidden in Windizer’s cave.
In the process, he parted from Gester without even saying goodbye.
Some of the Lion Corps mercenaries couldn’t even bid farewell as they struggled to rescue the king.
In the end, Usher emerged from the desert.
Clutching nothing but a crystal compass, bound by words that had become a brand, he traversed the desert alone.
For about five days, he hadn’t had a single sip of water.
The process of crossing that place was so faint in his memory that he couldn’t recall it.
When he regained his senses, he was crossing a river.
He had boarded the cargo hold of a transport ship, stealing fruit from it as he crossed the border to another country.
Usher spoke in a trembling voice.
“…I didn’t know what to do. Even after crossing the border, I couldn’t feel safe, so I kept moving eastward. I eventually reached a land where few even knew the name Baern. There, I lived hidden among beggars.”
Thus ended the upheaval of Baern.
Usher lowered his head deeply.
He knew he was called a loser of the era, a traitor to the crown.
When he turned fifteen, he personally sought information about Baern.
The commander and the members’ final wishes were for him to find happiness.
So, he tried to bury it in his heart and live on.
If not for the mission in Baern, he would have lived that way his entire life.
But now, speaking those words aloud left his chest heavy.
The memories he had pushed to the back of his mind surged anew.
At that moment,
“…I understand.”
Bersia embraced Usher.
“You don’t have to say anything more.”
She spoke gently, stroking his back softly.
Usher’s gaze wavered.
He felt as if something like molten lava was about to erupt from within him.
But to cry here seemed far too shameful, so he held that back.
He merely borrowed her embrace for a little longer.
Once he calmed his emotions, he smiled.
The desert night sky shone with a piercing beauty, and Bersia was kind.
Usher looked at her.
Though her face resembled his, the combination of her pale sky-blue hair and blue eyes created a sense of unfamiliarity.
Thanks to that, he could find Bersia within that face.
He didn’t say the words aloud.
‘That’s when I met you, the Saintess.’
It was during a time when he didn’t know how to find happiness and was wandering, a time when everything in the world only felt terrifying.
Bersia extended her hand to him.
That day, she reminded him of what he had forgotten.
A human’s touch was warm.
Warm enough to pull someone buried in a cold, dark pit back into the light.
How could one find happiness?
How could one love a world that had taken away everything they loved?
The answer was in her.
If there were people in this world with the courage to extend a hand to a stranger,
If there were even one more person like that in this land,
If, because of such people, someone’s life didn’t end in tragedy—
In such a world, he thought he might be able to love again.
Perhaps he might even be able to smile once more.
“What’s wrong?”
It was still an embarrassing thought, so it wasn’t easy to say.
Feeling awkward, he brushed it off with a laugh.
Bersia tilted her head in curiosity.
Usher rose from his seat.
“…I’m sorry. I’ve taken up too much of your time. Shall we return now?”
“Yes, we should.”
And so, the two returned together.
During that time, Bersia held Usher’s hand tightly.
Separate from the past stories they had shared, it was now time to consider practical matters.
When Usher returned, he told Halia about meeting Gester.
He explained that Gester Quolin was Usher Therbion’s close friend and a person who harbored great resentment toward the current regime.
The conclusion was to recruit him as an ally.
The method was fairly simple.
“Wouldn’t it suffice to enlist him as the fifth mercenary of the Blue Blade? If we just hide his face…”
It was a time when there was an abundance of people eager to join the mercenary group.
This would allow them to keep him close without drawing much suspicion.
As for his combat abilities, there wasn’t much concern.
Though he was weaker than Usher, Gester Quolin had trained alongside Usher under the Lion’s Order.
He had his own level of martial talent.
“His physique is impressive. You can tell he hasn’t been neglecting his training.”
A message was sent immediately.
The response was an acceptance.
He said he’d discuss details in person and arrive dressed as a proper mercenary.
And the very next day, he arrived.
It was then that Usher felt a sense of disillusionment.
“Hellooo~?”
“…?”
“It’s Mila~!”
Gester Quolin returned, dressed in women’s clothing and speaking in a falsetto.
He wasn’t trying to convincingly look like a woman.
He wore a silk outfit that accentuated his muscular frame, with a veil draped over his face.
Bersia frowned and spoke sternly.
“You don’t need to act like that here.”
“Oh, really? Haha! Awkward, isn’t it? Greetings, Commander of the Blue Blade. I am Gester Quolin, the dethroned crown prince.”
“…”
“Please understand the outfit. It’s the most effective way to fend off unwanted attention. Besides, it’s not uncommon. Over on Baern’s Sixth Street, there’s a tavern where cross-dressing men serve drinks. The men who fight there are known for their incredible strength…”
His tongue ran on, only making Usher overthink.
After greeting Halia, Gester turned his gaze to Usher.
He winked.
“Nice to meet you. You must be an important colleague of my dear friend.”
“Haha.”
Usher chuckled stiffly.
It was only natural, as his mind was filled with doubt.
Memories of past conversations resurfaced.
“I’m going to be a great king! A man among men with 100 concubines!”
“I’m going to be a lion! A noble warrior!”
The boy who once dreamed of having 100 concubines had become a cross-dresser.
The boy who aspired to be a noble warrior had become a woman.
“Ah…”
The future laid out before him was cruel indeed.