Chapter 5

From early morning, the commotion disturbed the peace within the castle. Quilly, after the physician had finished treating him, whispered to the doctor that his master seemed unwell both in mind and body. The sudden uproar made the servants nearby whisper among themselves.

“Did the lord go mad? Possessed by a demon, perhaps?”

“Has always been like a demon, so maybe it’s a punishment? Surely, the souls that passed away cursed him.”

“What if he kills us too?”

Sjoerd sat on the bed, indifferently letting the whispers from beyond the corridor wash over him. For Sjoerd, who had particularly acute senses among the Tudur, lowering one’s voice meant nothing—the murmuring whispers beyond the corridor were no different from someone speaking right in front of him.

Even so, the slander reaching his ears did not hurt him. He was tired of hearing curses against him. The last words he heard before death were also filled with contempt and hatred.

“There will never be anyone as terrible as you in this world.”

Suddenly, cold violet eyes flashed in his mind. The young man, always gentle and kind to others, was only cold to Sjoerd. The kind prince, who hated no one, shuddered with disgust, for Sjoerd was disliked by all.

How did it come to this?

The Brosius family, guardians of the northern land named Axid, where winter arrives first, were renowned for harboring the most powerful Tudur, protecting the entire north. The family, once respected throughout the kingdom, gained infamy the year Sjoerd came of age.

Sjoerd’s mother and the previous head of the Brosius family, Serena, had killed innocent lives in a rampage.

Every time a Tudur uses their power, the inner wavelengths that are the source of their power waver. Continuously using powers without a Guide’s help to calm the raging force ultimately leads to losing oneself and becoming aggressive, a state known as ‘rampage’. It was the one thing all Tudur feared and considered a sin.

Sjoerd’s mother, participating in the spring Thanksgiving Festival held by the Queen of Solias, killed those present in an unexpected rampage.

Twenty knights from the Sildras family of the South, the next most powerful Tudur-producing family, died, and the queen herself was threatened.

The actions of Sjoerd’s mother, as she had attempted to ‘assassinate’ the queen, were deemed treason, leading to her execution. The Sildras family, with faint blood ties to the queen, overturned the north in retaliation.

Since then, the Brosius family became known as traitors. The family nearly faced extinction but survived. They couldn’t rashly kill the Tudur guarding the north, and the plea from the prince, the offspring of the former queen, played a part.

After this incident, Sjoerd lived only for the singular goal of restoring his family’s honor.

He did everything following the commands of the prince who saved his family. He engaged in numerous schemes to prevent the current queen’s princes from gaining power and didn’t care who was sacrificed in the process of annihilating Nirah, the monsters humanity had been fighting against forever.

He believed that by killing more Nirah than anyone, his family’s past honor would be restored. The cruelty Sjoerd displayed in the process made even his subjects fear him.

But Sjoerd had his reasons for needing to act this way.

The ghost of his mother, as she climbed the gallows while coughing up blood and pleading, always whispered by his side.

‘I never intended to harm His Highness, Id. I did not rampage. I saw it with my own two eyes. The massive Nirah that tried to engulf us despite the sun being high above….’

The only ones who could corroborate his mother’s testimony were those from the Sildras family and the queen herself, who were present at the scene of the incident.

Yet all of them unanimously claimed that his mother had suddenly gone into a rampage, seeing phantoms. That made sense, as Nirahs are monsters that only appear on winter nights.

No matter how much Sjoerd searched, there was no way to prove my mother’s innocence.

That’s why Sjoerd followed the Crown Prince, who promised to restore everything once he became king. Only the Crown Prince had said he would thoroughly investigate his mother’s case and declared his mother, whom everyone called a traitor, to have been an excellent Tudur.

Even people from the same family turned their backs on his mother, but the Crown Prince, not related by blood, took her side. It was perhaps inevitable that Sjoerd would follow him.

However, the Crown Prince, to whom he had devoted his life, did not stand by Sjoerd in his final moments. His mother’s disgrace was never cleared, and Sjoerd, her son, also went mad from a rampage, committing a terrible massacre.

The strong regret Sjoerd felt before dying shook him. His heart, always hardened and numb, cracked. It felt as if everything he had believed to be right was being uprooted.

“Are you feeling alright, Your Grace?”

A greeting was extended to him, who was silent amidst the emptiness that seemed to hollow him out. Turning his head, the steward Calahan greeted him. He was Quilly’s father and a long-serving vassal of the Brosius family.

His attitude towards Sjoerd had changed after Quilly’s death. Although polite, he began to avoid being in the same room as Sjoerd, and shortly before Sjoerd’s death, he had said he would leave.

“A messenger has arrived first. News has it that His Royal Highness’s procession just passed Axid Lake. Judging by the location, they seem to arrive around noon. The dinner will be prepared on time, and the celebration party has also been checked. Just need a final confirmation on the accommodations for the distinguished guests.”