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    “O King, what do you see?”

    The man standing precariously at the edge of the icy cliff lifted his gaze.

    The northern winds whipped his long blond hair into disarray, but with merely a tilt of his head, the gusts quieted.

    The man—Lucas—shrugged and stepped aside, giving his younger brother space beside him.

    “I was taking a moment to admire my own genius.”

    What Lucas was observing was a forest of green crossing the white snowscape.

    Ten years prior, the hero-king who had led them to victory in the Demon Suppression War founded the kingdom, and would, from time to time, visit the northern lands he had bestowed upon his brother, gazing down at his masterpiece and this symbol of peace.

    “As the prophecy said, the forest has firmly taken root.”

    “It’s not a prophecy, but your achievement, Your Majesty.”

    At his brother’s stubborn rejoinder, Lucas let out a short laugh.

    Driving the demon beasts that had overrun half the continent back to the north, cultivating a barrier forest to protect humanity, and founding the Kingdom of Xenos—all had come to pass just as “prophesied.”

    Though he had witnessed every step by his brother’s side, the younger sibling never once placed faith in fate or prophecy.

    “I didn’t see by whose hand it happened, but I saw myself stabbed in the back and killed.”

    “I’ll always stand behind you, brother. To reach your back, they’d have to carve through my heart first.”

    Guarding the back of a man who had even foretold his own death, the younger brother remained steadfast, determined to hold his fate in his own hands.

    In time, the two sat side by side, looking out over the unusually verdant barrier forest.

    After a long time, it was Lucas who spoke first.

    “I had a fight with the queen. God, it was so fierce, I thought it would have been easier to slay a dozen demon beasts instead.”

    “Losing a child leaves a wound that never fully heals. All we can do is hope time will ease it.”

    “It’s not so simple. The queen finds me monstrous.”

    With a sigh, Lucas lay back onto the frozen ground.

    Because of his ninth-tier magic and divine energy, his golden eyes always seemed to gleam, but now they stared straight up at the gray sky.

    “I prophesied the death of our children. That just as we lost the first, the second and third would soon follow, and only the fourth would survive. She looked at me as if I were some kind of monster.”

    It was understandable.

    To utter such a dreadful prophecy—it must have sounded like a curse.

    “You shouldn’t have spoken such bleak words as prophecy.”

    At his brother’s indifferent response, Lucas narrowed his eyes.

    A deeper layer of gold flickered in his gaze.

    “You will keep your promise to me. You’ll guard this barrier forest until your dying breath and make the north strong.”

    So saying, he uttered a prophecy.

    Lucas watched his brother for a reaction, smiling as if to say “see?”

    “Well, does that reassure you?”

    Unable to refute it, the duke merely nodded.

    “That’s how the heart is. So I can’t blame the queen for asking about the fate of her yet unborn children, after losing our first so suddenly.”

    Lucas had answered honestly, even knowing it would wound his wife, because he had long ago surrendered to fate.

    From the day a power of foresight was granted to his eyes, and he realized he was destined to save humanity, he never once struggled against fate.

    Not even after foreseeing the loss of his children.

    He could have distanced himself from his sons to spare himself pain, but instead, Lucas chose to love every living moment with his child as if it were eternal.

    That was how Lucas accepted his fate.

    “It’s time to return.”

    Having gathered himself beside his brother, Lucas turned towards the capital.

    In those early days, the newborn kingdom required constant care and attention.

    Riding in the carriage away from the north, Lucas absently stroked the locket containing his late son’s portrait.

    Knowing the end lends greater love and urgency to each moment.

    He felt the same about the kingdom whose foundation he had laid with his own hands.

    So perhaps, in glimpsing the kingdom’s destiny, even these exhausting days would one day feel precious.

    With that light thought and a certain curiosity, Lucas broke a taboo.

    In his vision, saplings grew into mighty trees, and the streets that had begun like a chessboard became tangled as a spider’s web with the passage of time.

    And the kingdom was nothing but ashes.

    “……”

    Yet the calamity that consumed the kingdom only swelled, never diminishing, eventually devouring the entire continent.

    No one survived; it was utter annihilation.

    “Your Majesty, are you all right?!”

    On Lucas’s face as he returned from that vision lingered an overwhelming helplessness, fear, and anger—greater than the seven hundred years that had passed.


    “I have heard troubling rumors.”

    “Rumors?”

    The king, visiting the north for the first time in years, was gaunt.

    Yet even at his mature age, he still bore the vivacious air of a youth, looking far younger than his years.

    “It is said that Your Majesty has turned to black magic…”

    “Pfff—black magic?”

    The king let out a dumbfounded, hollow laugh.

    The duke relaxed a little at that laugh and, as always, sat down beside the king to look out over the forest.

    With a hint of a smile still on his face, the king asked,

    “Well then, there must be a reason for it. What is the king in these rumors said to be plotting with black magic?”

    No such details were known. The duke shook his head, a bit embarrassed.

    “It’s nothing but idle gossip.”

    “Then let’s speculate. What could the king in these rumors be planning?”

    At that moment, the boiling hatred in the king’s eyes as he looked down at the forest went unnoticed by the duke.

    “Tell me, brother: do you think heroes are born or made?”

    At the sudden riddle, the duke turned to gaze at the king.

    But the king continued, not waiting for an answer.

    “I think it’s the latter. Madame Vermang, that rare soul with the power to nurture others, took in us orphaned brothers. You were born with the power to cleanse the demons’ curse, a power I lack. That too is fate’s work, don’t you think? Fate always wears the guise of coincidence to produce the hero the age demands.”

    The king’s voice was low and confidential, as if confiding a secret of the world.

    “So this king in the rumors is simply making preparations in fate’s stead. To raise a hero for the sake of my beloved, pitiful people.”

    “…That is going a bit too far, Your Majesty.”

    “Is it? I thought, as one who does not believe in fate, you might support the rumored king.”

    The king ended on a light laugh and rose from his seat.

    “I’ll be too busy with the affairs of the capital to come north for a while.”

    With those final words, the king never set foot on northern soil again.

    Year after year, in place of the absent king, unsettling rumors made their way to the north.

    That a mysterious plague was ravaging the capital, claiming countless lives.

    That the law had changed so that even the smallest crimes were now paid for with one’s life.

    That the king, foreseeing rebellion, summoned nobility and commoners alike to the palace—though none ever returned home.

    And so, as the king’s tyranny reached its peak and no household remained untouched by loss,

    signs of rebellion began to show.

    Only then did the duke vacate the forest and hurry to the capital.

    The threat of rebellion was real.

    Fighting his way past the private troops—noblemen’s men-at-arms now ready to draw their swords against the king—the duke finally stood before the throne.

    “Your Majesty!”

    “That voice must be my brother’s. Well, what brings you this long way without word?”

    Contrary to rumors of madness, the king seemed remarkably lucid.

    His eyes were bright and clear, free of the madness typical of the deranged.

    But the duke could not bring himself to approach.

    “What… what have you done?”

    The audience hall was filled with bloodied corpses.

    In the midst of this horrific carnage, the king stood.

    His gaze wandered blankly, as if he could no longer see, but at last turned toward the duke.

    Where once had shone that dazzling gold, an ominous violet now billowed in the king’s eyes—the mark of black magic.

    “Brother, what do you see before you now?”

    Even if it was a lie, the duke wished with all his heart that the king would claim to see this gruesome sight.

    But his hopes were in vain. The king’s reply was dry.

    “Nothing.”

    “……”

    “I see nothing at all.”

    For peering too far ahead, the king had paid with his sight, and in his hollow eyes the duke’s image hovered.

    Carefully stepping over the bodies, the duke walked up to his brother.

    “No matter how many times I gaze—dozens, hundreds, thousands—the future is unchanged. Now all I can see is the brutal slaughter of our descendants and people by demon beasts.”

    Too much blood is spilled.

    Blood flowing like a river, drenching the land, so that not a single blade of grass can take root.

    The extinction of a humanity grown too accustomed to peace came all too easily.

    At last, the duke stood before the king.

    The king, still with the hope and boyish light in his eyes, said to his brother,

    “Even so, brother. You were right—fate is not perfect after all. But I have done it! I’ve found a way to defy fate!”

    “That way… was it black magic? To sacrifice your people’s lives as the price for black magic—just for the sake of a future that has yet to come—that’s what you call changing fate?”

    A deep guilt flashed across the king’s face.

    He answered, voice twisted as if each word crushed his innards.

    “Black magic demanded what I hold most precious in return, and I had no other recourse. But don’t worry, brother. I’ve prepared to raise an incomparable hero to stop the coming calamity.”

    “Brother, leave off talk of some distant future—speak with me of the present.”

    “My magic isn’t perfect yet, so I can’t say what errors may occur. I’ll need to use the rebels as further sacrifices to strengthen the magic circle.”

    “Please, Your Majesty…”

    “You’ll be astonished when you learn who the hero I have marked out for the future is. I’ll tell you by and by, but first, let’s go deal with the traitors.”

    Only after standing face to face with the king, who would not listen to reason, did the duke finally realize it.

    That not the people’s screams, nor a brother’s desperate pleading, nor the loyal remonstrance of a vassal, reached the king anymore.

    So the brother wrapped his arms slowly around the king.

    And, just as once prophesied, drove his sword into the king’s back.

    Deeply enough that the blade pierced the king’s body and ruined his organs.

    “Kh…”

    Catching his brother’s crumpling body, the duke seated him on the throne.

    And, just as on the day this kingdom was founded, the duke knelt before the king and swore an oath of fealty.

    “As your first knight, I vow to protect until the end everything you held more precious than life itself.”

    The oath to defend the people of the kingdom and peace on the continent—sworn to the king himself.

    “And so, let the guilt of this betrayal be paid for by my descendants as well. Rest in peace now, my king.”

    Blood dripped in scattered trails behind the duke as he turned away.

    Not long after, the duke’s voice, shaking the palace itself, sounded from afar.

    “The king has passed away!”

    Perhaps the foolish brother would never know.

    That even this would contribute to the coming ruin.

    Clinging to consciousness as it faded, the king squeezed out the last of his power and invoked his visionary sight one final time.

    But even with all this blood on his hands, the future of destruction remained unchanged.

    Blind now, the king lifted his head to the sky.

    ‘O God, if ruin was all that awaited us, why did You grant me the glory of victory?’

    With such resentment his final thought, the king closed his eyes forever.

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