Chapter 65
First Prince’s Palace—
In the silent office, a man sat behind an imposing desk, eyes cold and detached as they skimmed over documents. His hair gleamed gold like sunlight, and his sharply defined features seemed sculpted with exquisite care.
Though his face looked as if an artist had carved it by hand, the broad shoulders and powerful chest beneath his uniform radiated an intimidating air that warned others not to approach carelessly.
“Deliver this to the Second Prince.”
Stamping the last document, Euclid Balthazar gave the order to his aide. At once, the aide, Cyan, took the document, his pupils trembling slightly.
“Your Highness, this is…”
“Is there a problem?”
“N…No, none at all.”
Cyan’s mouth opened, then shut again as he lowered his eyes. Follow orders without question. Do not ask for reasons.
Those were the most fundamental rules he lived by. Feeling the cold pressure of the First Prince’s gaze, Cyan swallowed hard.
“Understood.”
When the aide left the room, Euclid reached for the next stack of paperwork with his same expressionless face. Changing the expedition site so abruptly meant there were now far more things that required attention.
‘Shastir Gorge…’
His hand paused for a brief moment as he scanned the report. What exactly was there that made Sylaria ask him to go?
What reason could there be to change an already assigned location?
Questions flickered in his mind, but Euclid didn’t ask her anything. If it was something his precious Purifier wanted, he would grant it without hesitation.
Sylaria Rainier was like a dream to Euclid.
Before meeting her, his life had no meaning beyond hardship.
For him, living had meant nothing more than survival.
From the day his mother died, he had spent every moment desperately evading the countless assassination attempts sent by that woman, Cressida.
Survival may be instinct, but after days spent swinging his sword until his arms shook, a crushing emptiness always followed.
Was it worth living like this?
Even if he struggled to stay alive at all costs, what exactly was there to gain at the end of it?
But he hadn’t had the luxury to dwell on such thoughts. Even thinking too long was a kind of indulgence he couldn’t afford.
Once the sun went down, there would be another blade at his throat.
A life consumed by killing assassins and monsters just to see another day. Since the moment of his birth, survival had been his only aim.
Despite the fine-sounding title of prince, his life was that of a beggar pleading with fate for one more dawn.
To survive just one more day. To not meet an assassin tomorrow. To not drink poison by mistake. That was all he prayed for.
He had never even dreamed of meeting a Purifier. Not going mad under the weight of bloodshed was already enough. To not lose his mind and become the monster everyone feared, that alone felt like grace.
And then, in the midst of that bleak existence, Sylaria appeared.
The moment he saw her, a shiver ran the length of his body.
If he told Sylaria this, she would probably laugh it off, but Euclid had been seized by her from the very first glance.
When her large, clear violet eyes met his, that instant was etched into him forever.
He had been startled by the overwhelming pull he felt toward a woman for the first time in his life. That was why he had tried, clumsily, to act cold and detached.
But the moment she took his hand, the fragile barrier he had built collapsed without a sound.
Perhaps the pull he’d felt toward her had been instinct. His very being recognized his Purifier.
Looking back, it seemed the only reasonable explanation.
Sylaria was far more than just a Purifier. Perhaps every cell in his body had yearned for her from the start.
Meeting her changed his life completely.
First came the sheer relief. The unbearable weight he had carried alone became lighter with her purification. As his divine power was cleansed, he could breathe at last. He hadn’t even known how starved for air he’d been until then. For the first time, he felt alive.
Yes. Only after meeting Sylaria did Euclid learn what it meant to live as a person, not just a beast desperate to survive.
No longer did he have to fear the moment he would lose control. No longer dread the day he would lose his mind.
That alone was enough to move him beyond words.
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