Chapter 205
CRASH!
“Ghk—!”
Kazhan took the fire magic head-on, rolling across the floor before coming to a stop in front of his unconscious son. His body trembled violently from the pain.
The acrid stench of burning flesh and fabric filled the air as smoke curled upward. This wasn’t ordinary fire—it was a killing spell, shaped into arrows of flame. Taking the full brunt of it, Kazhan barely managed to push himself up, hissing through clenched teeth.
“Damn… bastard…”
The front of his thick coat had burned away entirely, revealing the horrific damage beneath. His skin wasn’t just red—it was charred black in places, a grotesque testament to the spell’s lethality.
“Ah, well. I didn’t intend to kill the little prince, but accidents happen, don’t they? Got a bit too excited spamming spells after so long.”
“…You.”
Kazhan couldn’t even muster the energy to retort at the mage’s flippant tone. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he forced himself upright, scooping Mikael into his arms with his less-injured side.
“A father throwing himself in harm’s way for his son—how touching. So the rumors about this generation’s Emperor valuing family are true?”
Kazhan didn’t answer. He couldn’t—not just because speaking hurt, but because he didn’t know what to say.
Had he acted out of paternal instinct? Maybe. But if he were being honest, it wasn’t some sudden surge of fatherly love. Even now, his focus was more on Ysaris than Mikael. She was everything to him—irreplaceable.
So why had he done it?
…No reason.
Just because.
Because Mikael was his son. Because he was the second person in this world who had smiled at him—genuinely, without reason.
“…”
Kazhan adjusted his grip on Mikael, the boy still sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the danger he’d been in. Annoying. But also a relief.
Meanwhile, Trienne prattled on, undeterred by the silence.
“Decided to ignore me entirely, have you? Well, no matter. Thanks to your little self-sacrifice, I can safely subdue you now! I was going to just kill you—Tennilath blood is tempting, but capturing you alive seemed like too much trouble. But this works out perfectly! Feels like my birthday came early.”
“Shut your mouth.”
Kazhan tightened his grip on his sword, assessing his condition. The fatigue from days of relentless pursuit, the severe burns—fighting a mage in his own dungeon was pushing it.
But losing wasn’t an option.
Because he did have a way to win.
No—a weapon.
Thud.
“Apologies for the delay, Your Majesty. Though I see you’re… somewhat intact.”
“Does this look intact to you?”
“Hm. A good night’s rest in the palace, and you’ll be fine.”
Kazhan exhaled in relief as Duke Blake stepped into view. The man was drenched in blood, but his usual dry sarcasm was intact—meaning he was unharmed.
“I—ugh—I’m here too, Your Majesty…”
The royal mage stumbled in behind Temisian, pale as a sheet. Though physically unscathed, he looked far worse.
“Pathetic. Pull yourself together.”
“D-Don’t slap my back—I’ll vom—BLARGH.”
“…”
Kazhan ignored the mage’s retching, turning his attention back to Trienne. The dark mage’s grin faltered slightly as he registered the newcomers.
“Oh? Reinforcements? How dull.”
Kazhan smirked, blood trickling from his lips.
“No. Just cleanup.”
And then—
BOOM.
The dungeon shook as Temisian’s sword cleaved through the nearest magical trap, triggering a chain reaction of explosions.
The real fight had only just begun.
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