Chapter 42
Victor opened his eyes.
It was still night.
No, he just felt it.
It was dark everywhere he looked, and he couldn't even hear his breathing.
How can there be no noise at all?
Viktor instinctively grabbed the sword and unwrapped it.
As he swung his sword, he felt something cut.
His eyes were still dark as if they were shrouded in black mist, but his other senses were sharpened.
He focused in all directions.
He swung his blade like a wild beast and cut down those who attacked him, one by one.
He slowly realized that he was swinging his sword.
"Murderers."
They were clearly assassins, due to their choice of weapon and attack technique.
There were more than one or two.
The number of attackers continued to increase even though he swung his sword and cut down his opponents.
He already knew why.
Remember the story of the knights who were slaughtered by assassins in one night.
More and more fear filled his mind.
He shouted the names of his comrades.
"Brother? Aslan? Chica? Helio?"
But, strangely enough, he couldn't hear his voice.
There was no way. Karls' words flashed in his desperate mind.
“It must have been the work of witches.”
He turned pale when he realized what had happened while he was sleeping.
Although he was blind, he had keener senses than anyone else.
He cut the killers to infinity.
The more blood flowed from his sword, the weaker the magic became.
The more they attacked, the faster Victor was.
He swung his sword frantically and prayed earnestly in his heart.
"Please please please."
The moment the last assassin was killed, the magic was broken.
It was quiet.
The rising sun slowly seeped through the large window.
Except for the bodies piled up around him, the scene was no different from usual.
Victor ran from his quarters without having time to take a closer look.
He screamed.
"Helena?" Sigmund? What? Where are you?
He ran to the next door and slammed the door open.
Corpses were scattered all over the ground.
There were those who were helplessly killed in their sleep, and those who drew their swords and died in combat.
Victor kept running.
He saw those who stood vigil and those who fell from their tents.
His teammates were so cold that their eyes were still open.
But there was no time to sit and close their eyes.
He had someone to protect him.
"Brother!" My brother!"
Victor cried until his throat exploded.
"This can't be."
"This can't be!!"
Open the door to the commander's residence.
"my brother!"
"my brother?"
The sun had completely risen.
Dim light is filtered through the window.
The island was still eerily quiet.
Victor passed some bodies and slowly entered.
Mortheon was there.
With a sword firmly in his hand, Morthion lay on the ground with his eyes closed.
Maps and papers were scattered everywhere.
Apparently he fell asleep while planning.
Victor knelt in front of him.
"my brother."
Morthion looked very calm, as if he was asleep.
Except for the deep stab wound on the side of his neck.
"Oh, no-"
No tears came out.
He traced the wound with his trembling hands.
His brother's skin was still warm.
Victor's entire body trembled.
Suddenly his world collapsed around him and suffocated him, with nowhere to escape.
Victor Morte has failed.
He lost his reason to live.
He was unable to accomplish the one task to which he devoted his life.
Morthion has lost.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
He fell and screamed with all his might.
The island was quiet, as if mocking the fact that there were no survivors.
An idea emerged that had been buried again.
Victor Morte wanted to die.
He really wanted to die.
***
The sun rose carelessly and hung in the middle of the sky.
A rumbling sound was heard in the port, but Victor remained steady.
He remained perfectly still, even when their playful calls turned into shouts and screams.
Victor heard a familiar voice, searching for him impatiently.
“Little Duke!” Little Duke!!
“Victor! Where are you?"
The door quickly opened.
“Little Duke! "You're alive..."
Leonard walked over to him, fell to his knees and stopped.
"Lord Mortheon..."
The low voice trembled.
Victor did not raise his head.
He didn't want to say or do anything.
He just wanted to go where his family was.
I heard other footsteps behind Leonard.
It was Carls.
He grabbed Victor's shoulder.
"...Get up."
The red-haired knight spoke in a dry voice he had never heard before.
"There's no time for this. Go out and fix the situation. Give us the order!"
"Carls, are you really-"
“The Little Duke is now the Grand Duke!”
Carles interrupted Leonard.
The two friends stared at each other.
“There is no Grand Duke, no Deputy Commander, and no Chief of Staff! What will happen if the Little Duke stays like this?”
“Give him time to grieve! The little duke now...”
"That's enough, stop it."
A hoarse voice shouted.
Victor stood up very slowly.
He had no strength in his legs and couldn't think straight.
But he couldn't leave his older brother and his teammates like this.
He staggered past Carls, who looked agitated, and Leonard, who had his eyes tightly closed.
When he left the residence, dozens of knights crowded around him.
“Little Duke, are you okay?”
“How did this happen? Why, how-"
"Assassins attacked us last night."
Silence like death washed over them.
Victor explained the situation dryly.
“They used magic to cover our eyes and ears, and when I killed them all and dispelled the magic, no one was alive. "Neither the knights,...Theon...nor Brother Theon."
"..."
"I was there, and I..."
Some of the knights immediately retreated.
Many were already hitting the ground and crying.
But the rest were just looking at Victor with red eyes, full of sadness and anger.
"What now?!"
“Give us an order, Grand Duke.”
Victor closed his eyes.
It was a nickname he never imagined he would hear.
Anyone other than Morthion does not deserve this title.
But he had to fulfill his responsibilities.
He couldn't die.
The new Grand Duke gave his first order.
“Blow the horn and summon all the Morte Knights. The bodies of my colleagues cannot be sent to the Morte, so they will be burned tonight.”
"We will obey your orders."
The knights bowed their heads and wept.
Victor looked at the hot sandy beach and felt suffocated.
***
The fire burned all night.
It was hot fire, but he couldn't feel it.
The tears that streamed down his cheeks were hotter than lava.
Most of those who died were elderly, but they were like older brothers to all of them.
Not to mention Mortheon, the master who was always so kind to everyone.
Victor stood side by side with his friends, watching the burning fire.
"What are you going to do now?"
Leonard asked in a more hoarse voice.
Victor thought their respectful language was embarrassing, but he didn't have the energy to point it out.
Their pleasant days in the palace were like the distant past now.
All he had left was deep black hatred.
"I need revenge."
“Your Highness has killed all assassins, hasn't he?”
"No, that's not enough."
The two looked at Victor calmly.
Victor spoke as he watched the roaring flames.
“The people who caused this war, those who sent the killers, and even the hometown of the killers will pay the price. Let their lives be destroyed in the same way.”
“Your Highness, this is...”
“I know that a knight should not invade first nor take revenge unfairly but I don't care about that anymore. The person who taught me that is dead.”
Silence fell.
Leonard seems to have a lot to say.
Anguish was etched on the young knight's knowledgeable face.
But Carls had a completely different attitude.
“Is revenge possible? Our army is slow and incompetent. The Southern Kingdom will be able to win at this rate.”
His words made Victor think.
There was always a line he never crossed.
For fear that his older brother would hate him or that his classmates would be afraid of him, there was a line he could not cross.
He always wondered what would happen if he picked up his sword to his heart's content, but he never did.
But now, he didn't care.
“The leadership said we cannot change the situation ourselves.”
He slowly turned to his friends.
"But I will."
They didn't answer.
They just bowed their heads to their new master.
Victor stood on the beach all night until the fire went out.
• End of chapter •
To be continued •••
My Instagram account [@I.n.w.4].