Chapter 93
Yet no matter how many times Blaine accused him of fighting unfairly, Ael didn’t so much as blink.
“…So?”
Having finally finished loosening up, Ael looked at him with a refreshed expression. Blaine could only stand there with his mouth hanging open, unable to think of a reply.
Tilting his head, Ael looked at him quizzically.
“So I’m a coward. What are you going to do about it?”
Ael took a long stride toward him. Blaine instinctively retreated three or four steps.
Ael watched him for a moment before smiling faintly and taking another step. Blaine immediately backed away again.
“Who are you calling a coward…?”
After repeating the silent exchange another couple of times, the distance between them had grown considerably.
Pointing at the empty space now separating them, Ael continued,
“I’d rather be a coward and alive. Me, and my knights. Being alive looks a lot better, after all…”
At those words, Blaine recalled the intimidating knight who was always at Ael’s side. The one named Duncan or something like that swung an enormous zweihander around as though it weighed nothing.
“That guy… looks good? Ha!”
The incredulous question had barely left Blaine’s lips — “Ghk!”
Before he knew it, Ael was behind him. One arm had already snaked around Blaine’s neck, locking him in a chokehold from behind.
Damn it. No wonder he spent so much time warming up.
Blaine cursed under his breath.
He’d backed away three or four steps for every single step Ael took, staying so absurdly on guard that it bordered on paranoia. Apparently, it hadn’t mattered in the slightest. If Ael truly intended to close the distance, he could do it in an instant.
If anything, Ael seemed to enjoy watching Blaine flinch and retreat. Like a cat toying with a mouse.
Sure enough, he murmured with an amused smile in his voice,
“Honor’s just that. You’ll always have another chance to win it back. So we’ve got to stay alive. You and me both.”
For some reason, the words carried an unsettling weight.
Blaine blinked rapidly, fear creeping into his eyes.
Don’t tell me… is he about to kill me?
His throat suddenly felt as though it were already being crushed shut beneath Ael’s grip.
‘I thought it was strange he’d kept me alive this long…’
A king who had lost his kingdom was supposed to end one of two ways—executed or forgotten in a prison cell for the rest of his life. Yet Ael had shown almost no interest in Blaine until now. He’d never understood why.
Perhaps Ael had simply feared the backlash from the stubbornly loyal people of Altnebra if their king were executed outright.
“…Ah, so that’s why…! Ghk—”
So this is why he came! The forbidden wing… the king’s private bedchamber… the perfect place to kill me without anyone noticing!
Swallowing nervously, Blaine grabbed at the forearm locked around his neck. It was impossibly thick. Even by rough estimation, Ael’s forearm had to be three times the size of his own slender arm.
There was no chance he could pry it loose.
‘Damn it. We’re barely any different in height, so what in the world has this bastard been eating to build that much muscle?’
The people of Altnebra were tall by nature. The royal family, in particular, stood a head above the rest. It was the legacy of the First Emperor’s bloodline. Blaine himself was hardly short, but in terms of sheer build, he couldn’t begin to compare with Ael.
He’d heard Ael had been fighting on battlefields ever since his voice had first begun to deepen. Then again, Blaine had been traveling from place to place around that age as well. Mostly between dim archives, libraries, and studies.
Grumbling inwardly, Blaine stammered,
“I-If you’re going to kill me…”
Ael arched a brow and looked down at Blaine, whose hands were desperately clutching the arm around his neck. He looked as though he feared Ael might tighten his grip and snap his neck at any second. Not that it would help. His arms were so painfully thin that, if Ael put even the slightest strength into it, he felt he could just as easily break the wrists clinging to him.
Gulp. Swallowing against a throat that had long since gone dry, Blaine forced the rest of the words out.
“I-I know you’ll kill me eventually. But… isn’t now a little too soon? I mean… if you have any brains at all…Captain.”
He’d been trembling only moments ago. Yet the instant he opened his mouth, it was as though courage had suddenly found him.
Blaine started rambling all over again.
“I-It’s already a headache as it is, isn’t it? The people of Altnebra… hell, I’m their king, and even I can’t do anything with them. They’re so damned stubborn. Their pride in the Empire, the First Grandilgale… they’re obsessed with legends that are centuries old. They’re ridiculously proud of the House of Altnebra. They’re not going to listen to anyone. So even if you are going to kill me, wouldn’t it be smarter to wait until public sentiment settles down first?”
Even with someone gripping him by the throat, Blaine could chatter away without pause. At this point, it almost seemed as though what frightened him more than death was the prospect of being dead and unable to keep talking.
Fortunately, his argument appeared to get through. Ael gave an easy nod.
“Fair point. If I killed the king they adore so much now, the unrest that was finally beginning to die down would only flare up again.”
“D-Don’t put it like that. It’s not me they adore… They’re just obsessed with the legend, that’s all. Either way, public sentiment hasn’t calmed down at all. It’s just waiting for a spark.”
Growing more animated now that someone was actually listening to him, Blaine suddenly remembered the booming voice of Duke Verhenen from only a few days ago.
‘The late king buried weapons in the Black Forest to prepare for an invasion of magical beasts! We’ve stockpiled gunpowder as well! Victory will be ours! The glory of Grandilgale shall endure forever in Altnebra!’
Blaine’s face tightened into a frown.
Discussion
0 CommentsNo comments yet.