Chapter 114: Betrayal and Loyalty

Something cold pierced the outside of his left arm from behind, carving a shallow but clean gash.

Aether spun around sharply.

His adjutant was mounted at his flank, holding a drawn sword, tip pointing down, blood slowly dripping down the blade. It was Aether's blood.

Behind the adjutant, the Dawnlight Knights who should have been facing the enemy were turning their blades on him too. They had joined forces with the remnants of the Griffin Legion, turning their horses and blades on Aether.

Aether's mind raced, putting the pieces together—Antonella had deliberately sent them far from the fortress, using the prince's remains as bait to lure out the Griffin Legion's remnants. Now they were under attack from behind, and ahead...

He looked up at the "Griffin Legion" silhouettes in the darkness.

A "Griffin Legion" soldier charged at Aether. He barely dodged the blade, and knocked the soldier's helmet off with a backhand strike.

The man grunted, raised his head, blood streaming from his forehead to his jaw, obscuring most of his face—but Aether still recognized him.

"...Iannis?!"

Deputy Commander Iannis of the colonial garrison, who had joined the northern campaign after receiving his orders, had fought alongside Aether in the battle for White Spring Valley.

But now, Iannis wore the battered armor of the Griffin Legion, his blade turned toward his comrade.

"You—" Aether's voice came through gritted teeth. "What the hell is Antonella playing at? What have we done to her to make her want us dead?"

Iannis spurred his horse forward, moonlight illuminating his blood-streaked face, twisted with fury.

"Your very existence has been a thorn in our side from the start, Auroran. Young, talented Inquisitor, with limitless potential. In times of peace, the knight orders have no purpose, while you heretical inquisitors, who revel in torture, thrive. If you were to win glory in this war, you'd ascend to the heart of the Church. Then where would that leave us?"

Aether gripped his longsword, knuckles going white. He was bleeding, but he barely felt it.

"All for this?" he asked in disbelief. "Just for this, Antonella wants me dead?"

"What else? If there wasn't enough in it for us, why would we risk our lives? Don't tell me you have no interest in worldly glory, that everything you do is for glory in the afterlife. You've risen this far—saying such things now would be pure hypocrisy."

Aether gritted his teeth. "You betray your own brothers—you'll suffer eternal damnation!"

"We'll worry about that later," Iannis said dismissively. "What matters is that you die first. You can't escape this time. The earlier attempt on your life failed, but your luck can't hold forever. This is a battlefield; death is a dime a dozen. We'll say you fell heroically—what a brave, honorable death. Maybe they'll even give you a posthumous promotion or two!"

Aether's memory flashed back to the time when they had just left the Sea Cliff Prison, traveling along the Stone Idol Road. They had encountered a band of bandits. At first, they thought it was just the usual bandits harassing the elves, but the evidence suggested otherwise...

"So that was the knights' doing...?"

Iannis said nothing—his only response was a fierce slash.

Aether was prepared. He sidestepped the blow, countering with a strike at Iannis's wrist. The young knight reacted swiftly, pulling back his blade to parry—the two swords clashed in a shower of sparks in the moonlight.

The knights had encircled Aether completely, while those disguised as Griffin Legion soldiers were closing in from the outside. The two layers of encirclement were as tight as a drum—Aether had no hope of escape.

Suddenly, screams tore through the stillness of the night.

The outer "Griffin Legion" soldiers fell like wheat before a scythe.

A flash of vivid red in the moonlight caught Aether's eye.

Nashel galloped in from his ambush point, cutting through the crowd alone.

He was like a red lightning bolt, his invisible blade slicing through one knight's pauldron and slashing another's throat. Blood sprayed in the moonlight, and the knights couldn't even tell where the next strike would come from, their formation crumbling into chaos.

"Don't panic!" Iannis shouted. "He's only one man! Avoid his supernatural ability—without it, he's as fragile as any ordinary man!"

But dodging an invisible blade was easier said than done. Nashel struck again, tearing a gap in the encirclement.

Aether charged through the gap without hesitation, breaking past the knights' formation.

Nashel glanced at Aether. No words were needed—Aether knew exactly what he meant.

"After them! Don't let him escape!" Iannis's voice rang out in the darkness.

Aether led the way, with Nashel watching his back. Facing dozens of knights, the red-haired inquisitor wore his usual cocky grin.

The first knight to charge didn't even see where the attack came from before he and his horse were hacked down. The second tried to evade the invisible blade, but Nashel merely twisted his wrist—and the second knight's head flew high into the air.

Iannis cursed under his breath. He stopped ordering frontal charges and instead spread his men out, flanking from both sides, switching to ranged attacks.

Arrows flew from the darkness, some he deflected with his invisible blade, others grazing his shoulders and arms.

One arrow thudded into Nashel's left shoulder.

The red-haired inquisitor grunted but didn't slow down. He swung his blade backhanded, snapping the arrow shaft, while reining his horse back, always staying between Aether and the pursuers.

The two fought and retreated through the night. Somewhere along the way, they had veered off the northern road.

A cliff face loomed before them. Below, the darkness was too deep to see through, with only the faint sound of water.

The precipice cast a massive shadow in the moonlight, like a dark gaping maw, like the colony's "Mouth of the Earth."

The far side was dozens of feet away—unless they sprouted wings, crossing was impossible.

Another arrow flew from behind, striking the horse's hindquarters. The warhorse screamed, rearing, throwing Aether off.

He hit the ground hard, pain shooting through his whole body. The wound on his arm burst open, blood pouring out. He struggled to his feet but found his left leg twisted in the fall, a searing pain shooting through it.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats thundered from behind.

Aether turned and saw Nashel retreating toward him. The red-haired inquisitor bore several fresh wounds, a broken arrow still lodged in his left shoulder, blood on his face that could have been his own or his enemies'. But his blade was still moving, still slashing, still cutting.

Iannis and a dozen knights were hot on their heels.

"Loose arrows! Loose arrows!" he ordered frantically, while staying well outside the range of the invisible blade.

Arrows whistled past Aether's ears, arcing into the gorge, swallowed up by the darkness in an instant.

There was no retreat left for them.

Aether raised his blade across his chest. Nashel dismounted and stood beside him.

They fought side by side, as they had done countless times before.

"How much fight do you have left?" Aether asked quietly.

"Enough to cut down that bastard Iannis," Nashel said, his voice hoarse but carrying a smile. "As for the rest... hard to say."

"Then don't hold anything back." Aether tightened his grip on the hilt. "This is the final battle."

Nashel glanced at him. "How about we jump off the cliff? Isn't that how it always goes in novels—the hero falls off a cliff but doesn't die, either saved by a stunning beauty or stumbling upon a reclusive master. Either way, it always ends happily, with everyone living happily ever after."

"You read way too many weird novels."

"All novels are based on reality!"

The knights reined in just beyond the range of the Invisible Blade. More than a dozen arrows were trained on the two Inquisitors.

Iannis spurred his horse forward: "Surrender! I can be merciful and leave your bodies whole, so I can bring them back to the Holy City and return them to your families!"

Aether said nothing. He'd believe that when pigs fly.

The two sides faced off in a tense silence, the moment hanging frozen in the air. The knights didn't dare loose their arrows recklessly—if a single volley failed to kill both men, Nashel's Invisible Blade would come for them, and then they'd be the ones dying.

They'd joined the army to win glory and climb the ranks, not to die here attacking Moltalia. This wasn't the honor they'd signed up for.

Nashel cut a sideways glance at Aether. Those eyes, usually so carefree and mocking, were now brimming with a calm, almost serene understanding.

"Aether," the redhead suddenly said, "there's something I've been keeping from you for a long time. I want to come clean now."

"...Don't you dare pick now to confess your love."

"So any other time would've been okay?"

"...I'm begging you."

Nashel let out a low chuckle. He lowered his voice, ensuring only the two of them could hear what came next.

"Look, this empty sword hilt is actually a relic. My family shelled out a fortune for it on the black market. The Invisible Blade comes from it, not from me. I've been lying to you all this time—I'm really sorry."

"Wait, what?" Aether was stunned. "So you're not a superhuman?"

"I am. But my ability is... unusual. My family was afraid that if the Church found out, they'd come after me, so they bribed Minister Lutz in the Research Department to doctor my records."

Aether didn't know what to say. For a second he figured Nashel was messing with him again, but not now—not with a joke this cruel.

"Then what's your ability?"

"I can see the future," Nashel said calmly. "Just fragments, every now and then, but they're real—they really do happen. The first time I met you, I saw it..."

"What?"

"Everything that's happening right now." Nashel's voice carried a tenderness Aether had never heard from him before.

Aether's mind was spinning. What the hell was this guy talking about? He'd known all of this would happen today? Then why did he still show up?

"You will survive, Aether. I saw it." Nashel stepped forward. "You need to get back to the Holy City and find a prisoner named Lyman. He'll help you."

Aether opened his mouth to say something, but Nashel cut him off.

He squeezed Aether's hand: "I know you want to use your ability right now, but don't. Save it for that traitor Antonella."

"I can't just..."

Nashel suddenly flashed Aether a grin. He was always smiling, like his mouth was just built for it—sometimes you'd hear his big laugh before you even saw him.

But this smile was different. Aether couldn't quite put his finger on how. He'd known Nashel for years and could always tell when his red-haired friend's smile was just for show and when it was the real deal.

Right now, he was genuinely happy, no doubt about it. His smile was radiant, his eyes clear, his soul free of any shadow.

Joy and happiness radiated from every pore. He looked like an innocent child whose small world had never known worry. Like a groom at his wedding, gazing with deep affection as his bride walked toward him in white. Or like an ascetic who'd devoted his whole life to faith, finally receiving divine revelation after trials and tribulations, trembling in ecstasy at the sacred sound from heaven.

"Aether, knowing you all these years has been a real pain. Always getting bossed around by you."

Aether's lips twitched slightly. "Same to you."

"But, it wasn't so bad after all." Nashel added softly, his words almost swallowed by the wind.

Then he charged.

The Invisible Blade traced an arc of death in the moonlight. The two knights in front hastily loosed their arrows, but Nashel dodged them with ease. They scrambled to draw their swords, but were cut down on the spot.

Nashel moved faster than ever. He held nothing back—every strike was a desperate gamble, every blow left no room for retreat.

A longsword came thrusting in from the side, piercing Nashel's flank. He grunted, swung back to snap the blade, then drove the Invisible Blade into its owner's throat.

But more weapons came at him all at once. He dodged the first, parried the second, but the third landed square across his back.

Aether was about to rush in to help when Nashel spun around to face him and unleashed a full-power slash. Then, with everything he had, he hurled the empty sword hilt at Aether.

The ground beneath Aether's feet gave way with a deafening crack.

Wind roared past his ears. The cliff face rushed upward as gravity seized him, dragging him down, down, as if plunging into the very heart of the earth.

He slammed into the water. The cold hit him like a bone-shattering shock.

Then the icy water swallowed him whole.

Before consciousness slipped away, the last image in Aether's mind was Nashel striking that final blow.

Moonlight fell across his face, lighting up those clear, bright eyes. His red hair whipped in the wind like a burning banner.

His lips moved. Aether couldn't hear him, but he could read the words on his lips.

—Goodbye, my sun.