“That’s impressive, isn’t it! Really, truly…”

“I find it strange that the teacher is the one crying.”

Iris, weakly smiling, looked at Rinek, whose round eyes were spilling tears.

However, this smile, though weak, soon revived her strength. It was a vitality that Iris had never experienced before.

That feeling, as if the life force that had been lacking until now was returning.

So—

“I want to meet the Lord. —I have something to convey.”

△▼△▼△▼△

“Ku, ku…”

As a painful groan escaped, Gildeo Musique dropped the ‘Sun Sword.’

The sword of the Volakia Empire, dazzling like flames and as red as blood, vanished like smoke before making a sharp noise against the ground.

The ‘Sun Sword’ would never return to Gildeo’s hand.

“This is it.”

Before the kneeling Gildeo stood Yugaldo, holding the same sword that had vanished.

The swordplay that had crossed blades three times was an achievement of Gildeo’s pride. His strikes, despite enduring pain and suffering, bore the spirit to surpass the opponent.

Even Gildeo’s tenacity could not escape the binds of Yugaldo’s thorns.

“Yugaldo…”

Gildeo gasped, clutching his chest tightly against the relentless pain that surged. Yet, as one of the Volakia royalty—the last of two—his face and eyes did not show defeat.

His admirable spirit was displayed in the long years as the favorite for the ‘Selection Ceremony,’ performing beyond the reputation.

“You performed splendidly, brother.”

“Hmph.”

Gildeo twisted his lips in pain, but he did not mock nor regret; he laughed bravely, steadfast in his robust and valiant approach to life.

Nodding to Gildeo’s quiet might, Yugaldo swung the ‘Sun Sword’—his brother’s robust neck was severed, toppling him to the ground.

Gildeo’s corpse would not ignite.

The flames of the ‘Sun Sword’ were meant to incinerate the worthy, and Gildeo did not qualify.

Of course, there was a need to leave his body for confirmation of Gildeo’s death, but the respect Yugaldo paid to Gildeo was unrelated to such affairs.

In any case—

“It’s over.”

Yugaldo and the corpse of Gildeo.

Furthermore, the soldiers of the Muzik family, who had stood in the way to protect Gildeo, had also fallen during Yugaldo’s advance.

Surrounding the besieged camp of Gildeo, driving him into the great hall, the duel between Yugaldo and Gildeo finally reached a conclusion.

—The final conclusion had to be settled by his own hand.

“—Do you hear me, Whitaker?”

“Yes, no issues. Your Excellency, the fact that you can contact me means…”

“Indeed. —I have slain Gildeo Musique. This is our victory.”

“———”

Activating the ‘communication mirror’ taken from his pocket, he reported the conclusion to the waiting Whitaker, who remained silent.

It was an unusual silence, prompting Yugaldo to raise an eyebrow.

“Whitaker? As I mentioned, this is our victory. Soon, the castle will—”

“—I offer my sincere congratulations, Emperor Yugaldo Volakia.”

“———”

This time, it was Yugaldo who fell silent, as if struck back.

Reflected in the mirror was Whitaker, deeply bowing with his hand over his chest. Seeing that it was an even deeper bow of respect than usual, Yugaldo let out a small sigh.

Ah, yes.

Until Whitaker mentioned it, he hadn’t felt the reality—Gildeo Musique was the final enemy, and with that, only one prince bearing the right of succession survived.

Thus, Yugaldo was indeed the victor of the ‘Selection Ceremony.’

“Yugaldo Volakia, huh.”

“You will become the sixty-first Emperor. I, too, take pride in having been able to assist you.”

“Whitaker Goldario, your contributions have been noble. However—”

“However?”

“If there were to be congratulations, I would have preferred to hear it from my own lips.”

After voicing his honest feelings, Whitaker appeared bewildered for a moment and then broke into laughter.

He should have been angry with such a blatant remark, so Iris thought, and yet Whitaker barely managed to stifle his laughter.

“Haha, you truly are an interesting person. Your overly honest remarks are quite soothing once one gets used to it. I have something I wish to convey to such an Excellency.”

“What is it? What other than congratulations could there be?”

“Of course—I’ve prepared a ‘dramatic’ gift for you.”

△▼△▼△▼△

What Whitaker Goldario’s ‘dramatic’ gift entailed, Yugaldo Elcantti, who would become Yugaldo Volakia after the coronation, did not yet know.

Still, as a capable and irreplaceable advisor, Yugaldo thought he would like to understand what value Whitaker cherished.

Perhaps, he might finally comprehend what Whitaker’s ‘dramatic’ gift was.

“……”

Leaving the Muzik family castle, Yugaldo stood wide in the vast, deserted plains.

With the castle behind him, he saw from afar a single ox cart, and a small figure disembarking from it.

In an instant, he knew exactly who that small, hazy figure was.

“—My star.”

The girl, who had been recuperating at the mansion, rejecting conversations through the ‘communication mirror,’ and focusing solely on the ‘Selection Ceremony’ for months—that girl was Iris.

The empty plains, the cart delivering her, were arranged by Whitaker.

Had Yugaldo lost to Gildeo, he would have put Iris in danger amidst enemy troops, but that natural fear was blown away.

Clad in a blue dress and tied her flaxen hair back, Iris held her posture straight and was also looking this way, her gaze meeting the equally hazy form of Yugaldo.

He could see her beautiful eyes glistening slightly, and Yugaldo began to run.

With every step growing impatient, he sprinted toward Iris.

Iris, too, could no longer wait and started running towards Yugaldo.

“……”

For a moment, he almost called out in concern for Iris, but the clarity of her expression, her beaming smile, overshadowed that instinct.

In her state, as if she were soaring beneath the heat, all worries of collapsing disappeared as Yugaldo perceived it as her answer, quickening his pace even further.

And so, the distance between them gradually, gradually drew closer—

“My star… Iris!”

At a distance where he could see Iris’s face clearly, Yugaldo shouted loudly.

Upon calling her, he resolved to embrace Iris’s hands—no, to wrap his arms around her body directly. As her eyes widened in surprise, Iris began to slow her pace.

This distance made it challenging to run abruptly, yet he did not mind. He could close the distance himself.

So, lost in feelings, Yugaldo approached Iris—

“Iris?”

The moment he took a breath, Yugaldo’s expression clouded.

It was because Iris, who had been running towards him, had slowed to a stop.

Had she overexerted herself, reaching her limit? Yugaldo’s eyes scrutinized Iris closely.

Then he realized—none of those were the reasons.

“Ugh…”

Iris pressed her hand to her chest and dropped to her knees, gasping as if in pain.

What had happened? He grasped what occurred through her expressions. —It was because Iris wore a face familiar to Yugaldo.

“—Whitaker! Send someone immediately!”

“———”

Striking the surface of the ‘communication mirror,’ Yugaldo spoke in his most urgent voice.

Unsure if the other side expected this, the response was slow. Unable to wait, he called out repeatedly, “Whitaker!”

Soon enough, Yugaldo halted in his tracks, not closing the distance further to Iris.

He could not close it.

For—

“I can no longer approach Iris… my star.”

Yugaldo Elcantti had achieved victory in the ‘Selection Ceremony’ and had bound himself to a throne he had vowed to Iris.

—In exchange for that throne, he had lost the right to touch the most beautiful star in this world.

△▼△▼△▼△

—The ancient tale speaks.

It is the story of a lone king and a single girl.

The king, once alone, met the girl, and thus, he was no longer alone.

The king, who should no longer be alone, was deprived of time with the girl, who could have kept him company.

The bindings of thorns even constrained the girl’s heart, and their meetings became hindered.

A lone king, having cut down his siblings, was supposed to have gained the throne.

A girl who had been meant to declare her feelings now lost her chance.

One and one, without a way to touch each other, the wolf country inscribed history.

△▼△▼△▼△

—”Mad Warrior Disease”.

It is the name of a horrific illness that was spread intentionally during the era when “the Witch” wreaked havoc across the world, noted for its spread in the Volakia Empire.

In the age when the ironclad rule of the Volakia Empire caused human lives to be treated even more lightly than today, valiant, fearsome warriors were sought on the battlefield.

“Mad Warrior Disease” was deliberately created to fabricate such warriors.

As soon as one contracts the illness, it serves as a sieve, testing whether the patient can cross the boundary between life and death. The symptoms that manifest in those who survive are what we now call “Mad Warrior Disease.”

Patients with “Mad Warrior Disease” lose the brain’s ability to perceive pain beyond a certain level.

While fear of death makes one timid on the battlefield, that entry point lies in pain. Thus, blocking pain creates the effect of allowing one to forget death until the moment it arrives.

Therefore, those afflicted with “Mad Warrior Disease” can continue to fight and rampage until the moment of their death, almost as if intoxicated with fervor.

“So, it has gradually fallen into obscurity since the end of the Witch Wars, and now resembles a nearly forgotten illness.”

“———”

“I believe the onset of the disease in Lady Iris is related to ancestral inheritance. That it has tormented Lady Iris for years, and recently, due to a concoction made from a newly acquired herb, we succeeded in curing it.”

“———”

“…That led to Lady Iris being distanced from you, my lord.”

Sitting beside the bed, Rinek explained the circumstances.

Hearing Rinek’s words, Iris, lying on the bed, touched her chest, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The location was the Muzik family castle, which had been reclaimed by the Elcantti army after losing its lord and was currently being utilized by the Elcantti family, including Iris.

Meanwhile, Yugaldo was not present. —He was heading to the Imperial Capital Rupugana, needing to complete the coronation ceremony.

Having become the victor of the ‘Selection Ceremony’ and proven to be the most respected individual in the Empire as the sixty-first Emperor of Volakia.

Iris should have been the one most closest to congratulate Yugaldo on his victory.

“——”

Biting her lip hard, Iris covered her eyes with her arms. If she didn’t, the tears welling up would force her to lash out at Rinek, who was there with her.

After all, Rinek had done everything in his power with the knowledge he possessed to save Iris, who was suffering from a difficult disease.

No one could have predicted that it would lead to such an outcome.

“—I’m sorry, Lady Iris…!”

Even so, Rinek found himself blaming himself, seeing Iris’s gestures hide her face.

Sensing Rinek’s deep bow, Iris shook her head.

“Please, stop it, Sensei. You haven’t done anything that deserves an apology at all… at all.”

“However—”

“No one could have known! That my long-held illness would cause Lord Yugaldo’s thorns to do nothing, no one could have known. No one at all.”

Indeed, it was something no one could foresee.

Everyone had created the situation surrounding this “Mad Warrior Disease” out of good intentions. If one were to seek a truly bad person, it was neither Whitaker, who had gathered the herbs, nor Rinek, who had boiled the herbs to create the remedy.

The one suffering from such an illness was none other than Iris herself.

“But if I hadn’t been ill, I wouldn’t have been able to meet my lord.”

“Lady Iris…”

“…It was a dreamlike time. For a country girl like me to be treated by someone as cool and tall as my lord, the prince of an Empire. And yet, he is not merely a prince; he is about to become Emperor. I still can’t believe it.”

“—”

“Even with all the effort he put in, I ended up ruining everything.”

Their relationship began when they encountered each other on that hill, speaking under the starry sky. It was Iris who shattered everything.

She could no longer see Yugaldo’s face, touch his body, or hear her name called directly by him, nor could she be held or gazed at anymore.

“I am… such a terrible woman.”

△▼△▼△▼△

“———”

In the empty throne room, Yugaldo gazed at the flag of Volakia.

Behind the throne, hanging from the high ceiling of the room, the emblem—a wolf pierced by a sword—symbolized the high-mindedness and pride of the citizens of the Volakia Empire, fluttering proudly.

If the “Wolf Sword” etched upon that flag represented the qualities required of an Emperor of the Volakia Empire, then Yugaldo might also be the “Wolf Sword.”

Could he genuinely possess the qualifications to stand at the peak of the energetic, ambitious Volakia citizens who are admonished to be vigilant?

“If I say such things, I shall be cursed by my brother Gildeo.”

Gildeo, who sought the throne for the realization of his ideals, acted energetically and ambitiously.

He was not alone; there were 212 princes eligible to participate in this ‘Selection Ceremony’—those who chose to fight and those who did not. With lives served as the foundation, Yugaldo obtained the right to seat himself on the throne within the Crystal Palace of his beloved Imperial Capital Rupugana.

“———”

At his feet, the blood-red carpet, though not actually soaked with blood, symbolically absorbed the blood of his 211 brothers who perished for him.

Standing firmly over it, Yugaldo boldly lowered himself into the empty throne.

“‘Mad Warrior Disease’…”

On the throne, Yugaldo remarked, holding a slip of parchment.

It was a message conveyed by an arrow, detailing the condition of Iris’s illness, its treatment, and the reasons for the changes occurring in her body.

To put it simply, Iris had harbored a serious, undetected illness, one that had long protected her from the thorns of Yugaldo. However, no matter how it acted, a disease was a disease, and if neglected, it could threaten her life, leading to Iris being freed from years of pathology.

In exchange, she lost the means to escape the binds of thorns.

“—My star.”

Recalling Iris in pain, unable to touch her, Yugaldo rubbed his temples and quietly prayed for her peace.

The document stated that she was recuperating and had stabilized without any aftereffects of “Mad Warrior Disease,” heading toward recovery.

Still, he sincerely wished that the memories of her suffered pain would fade quickly.

—No longer would Yugaldo be able to touch Iris ever again.

Not to comb through that flaxen hair with his fingers, caress her flushed cheeks with his hands, kiss her eyelids that shyly gazed at him, nor embrace her slender body.

But—

“If I can create a time where you can live in peace, that is enough.”

That was the reason Yugaldo Elcantti challenged the ‘Selection Ceremony.’

The girl, Iris, whom bandits had once ambushed in her hometown, where they slaughtered her family. Showing mercy even to her enemies, she would continue to survive in Volakia, where ironclad rules were cherished even after Yugaldo was gone. —Thus, he had to change the environment where Iris would not be easily trampled upon with his own hands.

For that reason, Yugaldo chose to win the ‘Selection Ceremony’ and become Emperor.

To welcome Iris as an Empress, share time with her, and live happily ever after—that was merely Yugaldo’s own desire, accompanied by that first wish.

Such desires should never take precedence over causing Iris pain.

“I am sufficient blessed. —Now, I merely need to fulfill the duties that come with such blessings.”

△▼△▼△▼△

“Don’t mess with me!”

The arm swung with all its might shattered the table set for the war council into splinters.

Debris scattered inside the tent; Whitaker, showered by the shards, frowned while covering his mouth with a white handkerchief.

“No one is messing around here. Please calm down.”

“How the hell can I calm down?! Just as the lord is finally becoming an emperor, this… this!”

The furious Volcas’s golden pupils narrowed as his voice trembled.

Awakened by Volcas’s rage, Whitaker clasped his hands in front of his face.

“Surprising, isn’t it?”

“Huh? What’s surprising? What is… surprising?”

“Consider it from your perspective; with this, the lord can no longer approach Lady Iris. For you, thinking about Lady Iris…”

“—Shut it.”

A chilling voice echoed, and just after, Volcas’s beastly claws were pointed at Whitaker’s neck.

It was a movement so swift it could be termed blinking. Even Whitaker, who had no training in self-defense, could not follow the movements of the Empire’s mightiest warrior in anger.

Still, he had enough reason not to carve out Whitaker’s neck with his claws.

“I owe that girl a debt. A huge, enormous debt. That’s all.”

“Let’s go with that.”

“You…”

“—Stop!”

As the atmosphere between them grew tense, a high female voice sternly reprimanded them.

It was Teriola, who had been present at the scene and witnessed the rough exchange.

“Volcas, please calm down. You mustn’t lose your temper. Brother, don’t provoke him to anger intentionally.”

“Tsk.”

At Teriola’s words, Volcas clicked his tongue, shoving Whitaker aside. Whitaker, who had stumbled back, could only raise his hands before his sister’s stern gaze.

Once he saw them take a step back, Teriola sighed heavily.

“The one who is suffering the most right now is Lord Yugaldo. He has survived the ‘Selection Ceremony,’ yet with the coronation ceremony looming…”

“It’s like a last chance on the chessboard… who would have thought such a pitfall would fall right before making the move?”

“Don’t speak as if it’s someone else’s matter. If it weren’t for the herbs you provided, Iris and the lord wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“Should I have simply overlooked Lady Iris’s illness? Perhaps you’re right; it might have been best for the two of them to spend their time together peacefully until Lady Iris passed away from her sickness.”

“BROTHER—!”

Teriola scolded him with a harsh gaze and voice at her brother’s reckless remarks. Had she spoken just a moment later, Volcas’s claws might have sliced Whitaker’s throat.

It was a level of hostility that had strayed far too close.

“Don’t make light of such matters… Volcas! It’s unreasonable to blame my brother for Lady Iris’s illness.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

Fueled by anger, Volcas clutched his head, gnashing his teeth.

Unfortunately, Teriola had no answer, nor did anyone in the Empire possess an answer.

“Brother…”

“Stop wearing such a pitiful face and voice, Teriola. As members of this family, straighten your spine. —Regardless, the ‘Selection Ceremony’ has concluded. We must respectfully prepare for the coronation.”

“The coronation preparations… but what about Lord Yugaldo?”

“We can’t have him standing; it’s no game. Surely, he understands that.”

Setting aside Yugaldo and Iris’s problems, Whitaker introduced the topic of the ceremony that needed to progress.

As Whitaker pointed out, with the ‘Selection Ceremony’ concluded, they could not leave the imperial throne empty. The absence of the Emperor implied vulnerability toward neighboring Parent Dragon Country and city-states. Hence, urgency had surfaced for concluding the ‘Selection Ceremony.’

“Lord Volcas, my sister and I will proceed with the ceremony preparations. You will—”

“I’m going to see Lady Iris. I’d be useless here now that the battle is over. Moreover—”

“Moreover?”

“If someone is going to cause trouble after the ‘Selection Ceremony’, then I cannot be the easiest target.”

With those words, Volcas rose, keeping his back rounded, cautiously avoiding bumping his head on the tent’s ceiling as he left.

Calling out, “Volcas!” Teriola turned to him.

“Please, for Lady Iris…”

“Hmph, I doubt either of us can say anything to her.”

“—Take care of yourself.”

After striking home with the point, Teriola could only say such words, breathless.

Without answering her, Volcas exited the tent, leaving only the Goldario siblings behind.

“Truly, this has been troubling. Who would have thought that curing Lady Iris’s ‘Mad Warrior Disease’ would backfire so spectacularly?”

“That… no one could have predicted such a turn of events. Please don’t blame yourself, brother…”

“Indeed, no one could have predicted such a turn.”

“…Brother?”

In response to his swift and careless answer, Teriola felt a perplexing unease.

There was a lingering doubt regarding whether the decision to treat Iris’s ‘Mad Warrior Disease’ had been motivated by a quest for some result.

If it were truly in Yugaldo and Iris’s interest, then fine.

But what if that was not the case?

Just before the final instruction, Teriola heard her brother whisper something quietly to himself.

Sadly, what did not turn into sound was plainly read by Teriola, daughter of House Goldario. Whitaker had silently mumbled the thought.

“Now, what would be the most ‘dramatic’ development?”

△▼△▼△▼△

—The day of the coronation was fast approaching.

Slowly, the date advanced, and the Empire, whose ‘Selection Ceremony’ had concluded, eagerly awaited the moment a new Emperor would take on the empty throne.

There could be no betrayal of that expectation. There were no reasons to betray it. No justifications to be compelled to permit it.

Iris remained inside the Muzik family castle, waiting idly for the important moment.

“My body feels better than it ever has.”

Standing at the large window of the lavish room, befitting its size, Iris gazed at the clear blue sky with a hint of resentment.

Indeed, she felt much better. Before realizing she had ‘Mad Warrior Disease,’ there were moments she’d feel weighted by fatigue even when doing nothing. Now that burthen had vanished entirely.

Yet, that weight now seemed to have shifted deep within her heart.

Though Iris remained in the castle under the guise of recuperation, what did it truly mean to recuperate?

Her body felt fine, yet being alone in such an expansive room brought nothing but unease, leaving her puzzled as to what was truly required of her.

Even within the Elcantti’s mansion, Iris had previously echoed her sentiments, concerning Yugaldo.

But back then, she managed to discover a task—caring for Yugaldo—one she could substantiate as unique to her.

“But what then in this case…?”

What could she possibly do as she was now…?

“—Hey, playing the part of the tragic princess, aren’t you?”

“—WHAT?!”

Suddenly, startled by a voice, Iris looked up wide-eyed.

At the large window before her, a clawed hand with sharp, beastly talons scratched against the window frame, pulling up a familiar black figure that came into her view.

That figure was—

“Volcas…?”

“Who else would come into your room through a window?”

“….Please don’t brag about that.”

With a sulky expression, she threw her disdain at the intruder—Volcas—as she stepped aside.

Volcas entered the room casually, briefly glancing at Iris before grabbing her shoulder and turning her to face him.

“Hey! What are you…?”

“Your eyes are red. You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

“Ugh… w-who cares about that, anyway?”

“Who wouldn’t care?!”

Bringing his face close, Volcas looked down at her, his low, threatening voice forcing Iris’s gaze away.

Not due to fear of his threat; rather, she knew he held neither malice nor hostility.

Iris averted her gaze because his eyes were fixed directly upon her, reflecting her pitiful, weak form.

“…I’m sorry. You’re right; this is your business. I’m just venting my frustrations.”

“Could tell that without you saying it, idiot. —I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“If I’d killed the last brother of that lord just a tad bit earlier, you would’ve been able to see and hear his voice to celebrate. So that’s the reason.”

Still gripping Iris’s shoulder firmly, Volcas hung his head. For a moment, Iris was astonished, then realized he was bowing, and she was left even more flabbergasted.

Volcas, bowing to apologize to her—what a turn of events.

“What? Why do you look so shocked?”

“Uh, I’m just surprised. A lot has happened while I was in the dark, hasn’t it?”

“Things weren’t complicated! The biggest was between you and the lord.”

“Volcas, it’s not your fault.”

“———”

“I understand. Perhaps it was just that things shifted due to time, either a bit early or a bit late.”

Yugaldo’s thorns and Iris’s ‘Mad Warrior Disease.’

It was simply a connection driven by the encounters and words they exchanged, which had ultimately become the cause; Volcas bore no fault in it.

“Volcas, why are you here? You are the Empire’s best warrior, right?”

“……There are no enemies of that lord left. There’s no reason for me to be with him, anyway. Plus—”

“Plus?”

“I was worried about how you were doing. You’ve got a huge debt in my realm.”

“That’s already been settled long ago…”

Iris lowered her eyes at Volcas, who spoke in a hurried mumble.

The debt he spoke of—though it was challenging to label it as paid in full. It was the debt of her parents’ deaths. The way to reciprocate was lost on her.

But Volcas had accompanied her lord into battle, risking his life and committing himself entirely until Yugaldo became Emperor.

Surely, that could suffice, couldn’t it? Would it be unwise to forgive Volcas when he had done this?

“I’ll say it again, you haven’t paid back anything.”

“———”

This thought that Iris had now found herself contemplating was boldly dismissed by none other than Volcas.

Baring his sharp fangs, Volcas continued, still gripping Iris’s shoulder.

“I told you, I owe you a debt. A huge, enormous one. So…”

“Volcas…”

“Therefore, you can take advantage of me however you want for the rest of your life. You can use me for whatever you want, Iris…!”

Clenching his teeth, he pleaded in a trance-like urgency.

Listening to Volcas’s desperate words, Iris was struck by a jolt of lightning blazing through her.

She finally recognized the true calling behind all those exchanges they had made regarding their debts.

Volcas had been pleading far more than she believed him to be.

“I am strong. But I don’t have much head. But if I want things to be as they were between you and Yugaldo, I don’t know how to do it. I need you and Sensei to think about it. Whatever answer you come up with, I’ll do anything for it.”

With all his courage, Volcas proclaimed himself as “not very bright.”

Still, Iris couldn’t help thinking that Volcas was mistaken.

It wasn’t Volcas who lacked intelligence—it was herself. She had been spinning her wheels in a labyrinth of reasons while he clearly discerned what lay before him.

Unlike Volcas, able to seek reasons not to give up, she only scoured for justifications not to pull through.

Now that she had convinced herself that she could no longer see Yugaldo, she was willing to accept it.

Iris was prepared to leave that gentle “Thorned King” all alone.

“Ugh…”

With a soft sound, a tear slipped from Iris’s eyes, trickling down her cheek.

As she realized her unconscious tears, Iris took a gulp—yet, just then…

Stretching his neck, Volcas licked the tear gliding down Iris’s cheek.

“———”

With an unexpected touch, the sensation of a wolf-like tongue against her cheek made her gasp in astonishment.

Caught off guard, she nearly felt as if she were being ripped apart.

“Y-you just…!”

“Eh? Because you were crying. It’s normal for the adults to soothe the younger ones in the pack.”

“Who is the adult here and who is the child?! You—truly, what kind of person are you…?!”

While Volcas acted nonchalantly, Iris felt her face flush red. She wiped her cheek where he had licked and slowly calmed down.

After confirming this, Volcas also released his grip on Iris’s shoulder.

Honestly, this wolfman…

“Will you truly help me with anything?”

“I’ve said it, for you—”

“A huge debt, right?”

“Hmph.”

With a small huff, Volcas smirked, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. Iris weakly reciprocated that smile, albeit frailly.

The situation hadn’t changed by any means. Iris’s ‘Mad Warrior Disease’ had been healed, but she remained bound by the thorns of Yugaldo.

Still, she could not lose herself entirely to despair; that was—

“I have something I want to convey to my lord…”

She would convey this message with all of her being, getting close to his side.

—That was the determination Iris had made at that moment.

“—Lady Iris! This is bad!”

“Sensei?”

Having forgotten knocking, Rinek burst into the room, his expression pale with alarm as he eyed Iris and then Volcas, exclaiming, “Volcas?!”

However, he quickly shook his head vigorously.

“Right now, that’s not important… Lady Iris, I need you to calm down and listen!”

“Calm down?! You’re the one not calm at all!”

“Volcas, it’s fine. …Sensei, what happened?”

Seeing Rinek’s unusual demeanor, Iris held Volcas back and inquired.

Before hearing Rinek’s answer, an unwelcome premonition nagged at Iris’s chest. After resolving to move forward just moments ago, a sense of dread crept in.

That feeling, unfortunately, was not mistaken.

“—Whitaker Goldario has stirred a rebellion. He set fire to the palace where the lord is and plotted to assassinate him!”

△▼△▼△▼△

The Crystal Palace in the Imperial Capital Rupugana is a castle crafted from the acme of Volakia’s technology and artistry, praised as the most beautiful castle not just in the Empire, but in the world.

Constructed with precious magical crystal stones, the knowledge required to build it has been lost, meaning nothing like it can ever be created again.

Thus—

“At the palace where he was temporarily moved during the preparations for the coronation, he intended to target the lord. That Crystal Palace is an irreplaceable treasure of Volakia.”

“—Indeed. Lord Yugaldo is irreplaceable, too.”

“Sure, maybe to you, since you’re in love with him. He’s the only one in the world who seems completely unique. But if that were the case, why was the ‘Selection Ceremony’ even held?”

“—”

“There is no such thing as an irreplaceable person. Even Yugaldo Elcantti is no exception. As a member of my house, I thought you understood that.”

So spoke Whitaker through the iron bars, prompting Teriola, locked away, to cast her gaze down.

Having been forced into the cell, Teriola had lost the usual grace of her attire. Her dress was torn, her proud red hair was a mess, and her makeup had smeared.

With an icy expression, Whitaker looked down at Teriola.

That was only natural.

After all, Teriola had disrupted Whitaker’s one-time monumental gamble.

“There is nothing more painful than being betrayed by blood. You are a sinful woman, Teriola.”

“Then, I’m feeling the same way as you, brother. Lord Yugaldo, too, must be suffering greatly after being betrayed by someone he trusted completely.”

“Is the lord suffering? You’re kidding, right? Since he was of sound mind, crushed by thorns since he was a child, he would never feel the pain of betrayal from his vassals.”

“Brother…!”

Clutching the iron bars, Teriola’s slender nails broke, but she paid no heed, glaring coldly at the callous Whitaker.

Noting Teriola’s fierce glare, Whitaker shrugged lightly.

“Face reality, Teriola. The lord’s ‘Curse of Thorns’ has expanded. It’s impossible to leave him unattended as the Emperor of the Volakia Empire. Then we need an alternative.”

“Does that mean you becoming the Emperor is your plan?! A treacherous minister who snatched the throne will only be talked about forever!”

“I have no choice. The ‘Selection Ceremony’ has concluded, and there are no alternative princes left. If this were before the death of Prince Gildeo, he could have been put forward, but that is unattainable. Thus, per Volakia’s customs, it will be the one who seized the imperial position by force who becomes the next Emperor.”

“You intended it from the start, didn’t you?!”

“———”

Though he claimed it was an unavoidable circumstance, Teriola refused to believe him.

For Whitaker had declared, “It backfired.” He must have had a specific intent in treating Iris’s ‘Mad Warrior Disease’ and orchestrating the current situation.

When it began was unknown. Nonetheless, Whitaker had wished for the current situation.

“Why…?”

“That’s my line, Teriola. You assisted in the assassination plan’s execution, creating unnecessary trouble. However, wherever he goes, he scatters thorns, so finding him won’t be so difficult.”

“—”

Teriola realized that Whitaker had dismissed her resistance as a trivial annoyance.

She couldn’t find the words to change Whitaker’s resolve; all she could do was voice her sorrow.

“I despise you, brother…!”

“———”

Whitaker left without replying to her.

△▼△▼△▼△

—Yugaldo did not notice the premonition of Whitaker Goldario’s rebellion at all.

This was a testimony to Whitaker’s meticulousness, guile, and overall high competence, but Yugaldo’s own helplessness played a huge factor in this.

No matter the excuses made, Yugaldo had been careless.

On the verge of his coronation as Emperor of Volakia, his heart wavered and lacked calmness. The pressure of taking on immense responsibilities combined with a sense of loss over the support he should have had.

No matter how he forged his spirit into iron, the gap could not be deceived.

“If it were not for Teriola’s hand…”

Just before the palace was set ablaze, Teriola, suffering in the bonds of thorns, had rushed to aid Yugaldo’s escape from the capital.

The pain and heartache behind that decision were unimaginable for Yugaldo, but he could only guess and could never truly understand.

Both the pain of having his heart crushed and the pain of betraying a cherished family member were burdens he would never grasp.

“That was quite clever…”

Having escaped the palace, Yugaldo was continually evading those sent after him under Whitaker’s orders, opting to escape to a place filled with people.

Eventually, he found himself within the woods beyond the walls of the capital.

Among the trees, traversing the treacherous paths on foot, Yugaldo sensed the presence of those still pursuing him.

Disconnecting themselves from his thorns, the pursuers likely amounted to none other than the Empire’s most elite—those nine warriors known as the ‘Nine Divine Generals,’ appointed by the late Emperor Radkain Volakia.

According to custom, the ‘Nine Divine Generals’ were to be relieved of duty following the passing of the previous Emperor, yet they had returned to the Imperial City just before the new Emperor’s coronation.

It seemed Whitaker had recruited them as assassins to dispose of Yugaldo.

“Such cunning. That ability has saved me repeatedly, but now it becomes a hindrance.”

In order to succeed in the ‘Selection Ceremony,’ he had to ally with them. If they turned into enemies, there would be no battle, only defeat. The awareness surrounding House Goldario only served to accentuate the hassle incurred by them turning against him.

What truly surprised Yugaldo was that this rebellion seemed not to be meticulously premeditated.

“Given the dedication you have shown thus far, I thought it impossible there was ever deception behind it.”

“`

**The rebellion caused by an inability to tolerate it any longer.**

Reflecting on Whitaker’s previous actions alongside the current situation, Yugaldo surmises this. Perhaps this too is a misjudgment on Yugaldo’s part, and Whitaker might have been biding his time for this very moment.

“Is that your idea of ‘dramatic’ for sure?”

Yugaldo struggles to comprehend the values that Whitaker holds dear.

Is this also an action in accordance with that value? As a result, a difference of opinion arose between him and his sister Teriola.

“I hope Teriola is safe.”

Given his cooperation with Yugaldo, it is clear that Teriola is now an enemy of Whitaker.

As she helped Yugaldo escape from the palace, Teriola bore sweat from pain yet bravely saw him off. No doubt she fell into Whitaker’s hands after that, but would Whitaker’s coldness also be directed toward his sister?

He couldn’t tell. It might be futile to even think about it.

After all, why is Yugaldo fleeing? —Isn’t Whitaker’s judgment a rational one for the sake of protecting the Volakia Empire?

“——”

Stopping in his tracks on the overgrown grass, Yugaldo glanced down at his own hands.

——The throne of the Empire is unworthy of the “Thorned King.”

This was a conclusion Yugaldo himself had arrived at long ago, after gaining an understanding of his own position and circumstances.

For Iris’s sake, for the tranquility of her future, Yugaldo overturned that conclusion.

However, now that the danger of the “Thorned King” has expanded and its threat has grown far more powerful than before, can Yugaldo stand tall and provide the same answer to the same question?

“Or should I lower myself to Whitaker and express my true intentions?”

What he seeks from Whitaker is stability for the Empire and assurance for Iris’s life. Granting amnesty to the punishment squad that had greatly assisted in “The Selection Ceremony” and providing adequate rewards and positions to Volcas, who led it. Also, forgiving Teriola, who had aided Yugaldo in his flight, without taking away her spirit.

As for dismantling the Elcanti household, it is unavoidable for Yugaldo’s existence to end in total defeat, so there is no option but to turn a blind eye.

If those demands are to be met—

“——”

It would not be so bad to surrender here and lower himself to Whitaker.

Or he could find some way to have Whitaker promise, and then it would be either Yugaldo’s own death or a resolution.

That seemed like the most rational and correct judgment.

“No matter what measures are devised, I cannot believe that my sitting on the throne is the best option right now.”

An answer that perhaps no one except Yugaldo had perceived as completely natural.

Finally arriving at this conclusion, Yugaldo let out a small sigh. Needlessly disrupting the governance of the Empire, Yugaldo will end up relinquishing everything just before the coronation.

While it follows the Volakia way, it feels akin to struggling to end the bloodline of the royal family here, which is far too pitiful.

Yet still—

“—As long as there’s happiness for you, my star.”

If that can come to pass, then Yugaldo Elcanti’s actions would hold meaning.

Behind his closed eyelids, Iris’s smiling face, angry face, and shy face appeared. He could hear her voice, feel her scent, and recall her warmth.

Vividly, distinctly remembered.

Since the “Selection Ceremony” began, they had been separated, and he lost the chance for contact after the “Selection Ceremony” was over; he hadn’t even been able to meet Iris once again, yet she was remembered with such vividness.

“No, this is far too—”

He could feel it too clearly.

Yes, it was when Yugaldo opened his closed eyelids and recognized reality.

“—Your Excellency.”

“—Foolishness.”

A voice that should not be heard, a warmth that should not be felt, a face that shouldn’t exist in sight.

All that Yugaldo’s soul thirsted for stood before him.

Iris, who should not have been there, took Yugaldo’s hand and smiled.

“Why… are you here?”

“Don’t say silly things. My duty is to support you at your side, Your Excellency.”

“But… but!”

She is neither a fake nor an illusion.

The real Iris pouted like that right in front of Yugaldo. Yet, within Yugaldo’s mind, alarm bells rang.

A reunion that must not happen. An encounter that cannot be.

“What reckless… my thorns…”

Bind, torment, distance him.

Could it be that, like Teriola, Iris came rushing here with a prepared mindset? Enduring the pain desperately, making a brave smile for the unworthy Yugaldo.

Yes, as Yugaldo’s trembling blue eyes focused on Iris—

“Do I seem like I’m pushing myself?”

Thus spoke Iris, softly lowering the corners of her eyes, but he could find no trace of pain etched in her face.

Stunned, Yugaldo observed Iris minutely while searching for even the slightest hint of injury hidden beneath her fingers. —But nothing.

Iris had escaped the thorns once more while reaching out to Yugaldo.

“Why are you…?”

“It’s the power of love.”

“Love, you say…?”

“Can’t you believe it? Or do you truly not understand how I feel about you, Your Excellency?”

“——”

Firmly stated and questioned, Yugaldo remained silent.

He had never clearly heard from Iris what she thought of him. There was hope in Yugaldo’s heart. Yet, it wasn’t a certainty.

All he could be sure of is that he was not despised—

“I love you, Your Excellency.”

With a sense of urgency, unable to endure any longer, Iris declared this, wrapping her arms around Yugaldo’s neck, pulling him closer, and stealing his lips.

“——”

Yugaldo’s and Iris’s lips met, intertwining their existence.

In words, actions, and very being, Iris expressed her feelings for Yugaldo.

Then, what should Yugaldo do?

“—My star.”

As their lips parted, Yugaldo, finding himself inches away from Iris, clearly called her by that name.

Iris looked back at him. In her eyes, Yugaldo’s face reflected—a face of a man who regained his vigor.

And then—

“—I shall become Emperor.”

With that proclamation, Yugaldo drew the crimson “Sun Sword” from its empty sheath.

—

“—That was a noble cause.”

The brilliant crimson sword flashed as a diagonal slash ignited the body it struck with a surge of flames.

While engulfed in flames, the dual-wielding warrior still attempted to launch a counterattack, but the scorching fire consumed his twin swords before it could even take his life.

In that state, the man’s body turned to blackened ash, vanishing into dust.

That was the end of the last man and the chief of the “Nine Divine Generals,” the empire’s top swordsman.

“Good grief… what a remarkable person you are.”

Having witnessed such a grand demise, Whitaker, now breathless from losing all his allies, turned to see Yugaldo holding the “Sun Sword.”

The rebellion initiated by Whitaker Goldario, who was dubbed “The Thief Emperor,” concluded with this counterattack from Yugaldo.

Escaping the imperial capital once, Yugaldo had returned, cutting through Whitaker’s supporters one by one with the “Sun Sword,” reclaiming the throne.

“I never imagined that even the ‘Nine Divine Generals’ would be wiped out. That’s out of the ordinary.”

“If we’re getting into it, then I believe I should be the one praised for my persuading every last one of the ‘Nine Divine Generals’ to side with me.”

“It’s not a tough task either. Everyone simply voiced their dissent against you becoming emperor, the ‘Thorned King,’ you see.”

“—So it seems. Your reasoning is correct.”

“No? The winning Your Excellency is right, while we who lost are wrong. That is the ironclad rule of this empire.”

Placing a hand on his chest, Whitaker, squinting slightly, smirked ironically.

At these words, Yugaldo closed his eyes, accepting that it was indeed this empire’s unshakeable value, nodding along that Whitaker fought to prove correctness, embracing both defeat and mistakes.

“It’s a shame to lose you. Do you have any final words?”

“What if I were to clumsily plead that I’d reform and wish to serve you again, how would you respond?”

“While I sincerely regret it, that is impossible.”

“Haha, that’s right. That’s how you are.”

Chuckling, Whitaker took a deep breath and exhaled.

In less than a few seconds of that breath, this wise man worked his head in various ways.

“First off, the Goldario household will be crushed. Though my family’s long-standing business will cease to exist, there’s bound to be new promises as long as the ‘Selection Ceremony’ continues. Those soldiers who followed me will probably comply if I call for their surrender. Also, while it may not help in your current dialogue, I have enough reserves of ‘Dialogue Mirrors’ to leave you to use at your discretion. Oh, and after you have taken the throne, I wanted to suggest that the management of the northern water supplies in the imperial capital should be thorough. It may soon risk flooding the city.”

“Stop coming up with all your final thoughts. But fine, I’ll consider all of them.”

“Good. Oh, and about Teriola…”

“Teriola saved me. If there is anything I could give to her, it would be gratitude, not a blade.”

“—One last thing, could you convey something for me?”

Upon hearing that he had no intention of punishing Teriola, Whitaker sighed in relief. Yugaldo narrowed his eyes, suspecting that this final addition was indeed his true aim.

That man, who hastily wanted to keep his true heart hidden until the very end, opened his mouth.

“I didn’t intend to go this far from the start.”

“—Is that suitable?”

“That will convey the message. Teriola is a wise sister, after all.”

With that mumble, for the first time, the genuine feelings of Whitaker seeped through.

Sensing this, Yugaldo lowered his chin. With a long exhale, Whitaker slowly knelt down in place, bowed his head, and offered his neck to Yugaldo.

“The Goldario family lies hidden in the shadows of history… how ironic it is that I will be remembered as a treacherous minister in the grand annals of the empire.”

“Whitaker Goldario, it was a noble cause. —For your dedication thus far, I commend you.”

Yugaldo brandished his treasured sword at the bowed Whitaker, though the expression on Whitaker’s face was hidden.

But Yugaldo was sure that he would have smiled.

—

The rebellion of “The Thief Emperor” Whitaker Goldario had thus reached its conclusion.

—

The ancient tale speaks.

It is the story of one lonely king and one solitary girl.

The lonely king met the girl and no longer walked alone.

And thus, the path of the “Thorned King” and the girl was separated.

The wolf, which consumed the girl’s life, and the ground mouse that forced the girl to drink poison were driven from the empire.

The bard who guided the king fell to flames, and the wise woman who wished to support the king bore the next emperor.

The history of the land of the Wolf-Lion continued on.

The king, who chose to continue, spent his life correctly in the palace.

The wolf waited for its beloved within the corridor, while the ground mouse continued to make poison and medicine on the Isle of the Sword.

The wise woman, influenced by the poison, fell ill early on and conveyed her feelings to the king for the first time before her death.

The “Thorned King” lived and died, without cursing anyone but himself.

And—

—

“I… am.”

A long, long time passed.

Enough time for the soul that should have ended to be cleansed and to sprout anew as a fresh life.

As soon as the girl recalled who she was, the body caught up with the shape of the soul.

Once upon a time, many decades ago, she had been called Iris in this land.

Why the Iris that was once called had resurrected, that reason was understood by the soul.

To maintain this soul as “Iris,” how many sacrifices had there been?

“Volcas, Sensei, Whitaker, Teriola…”

At the end of a long time, the names of those already lost surfaced.

The people who contributed to her being able to remain as “Iris.”

And—

“—Your Excellency Yugaldo.”

Atop the mountain, the girl who reminded herself of who she was, Iris, looked down below, covering her face, tears flowing endlessly.

How much blood flowed and lives were lost due to her selfishness back then?

After she died, how lonely had he spent his time?

Yet still, the proof that Yugaldo Velakia loved Iris lay right there.

—

“The star-shaped capital…”

The Volakia Empire, Imperial Capital Rupugana.

During the reign of the sixty-first emperor, Yugaldo Volakia, the city had been transformed, its walls now shaped like a star with five peaks.

The emperor called “The Thorned King,” who dedicated himself to the empire to the point of self-sacrifice.

That emperor had only once reshaped a star-shaped wall as his personal desire.

That was proof that Yugaldo had not forgotten his star.

“Things cannot stay like this.”

Wiping her tears, the girl who was once Iris stood up.

Within her chest, the soul that continued to assert itself was bound to the land, justifying its ongoing presence by the sacrifices that had already been offered, and would likely continue to remain.

But it does not need that permission. Here, he is not present.

Therefore—

“I must seek…”

A way to break the bindings that keep her attached to this land.

The sacrificial history that had persisted since that lamentation era to prevent Iris’s soul from flowing into the corridor.

As the last person of that age, it must come to an end.

“I am the star of that man.”

—

The ancient tale speaks.

It is the story of one lonely king and one girl.

The lonely king met the girl and no longer walked alone.

Everything is a cherished memory, flaring like a passionate flame, bright enough to exchange for everything, a tale leading to a future where everything is sacrificed.

For a long time, this story of the king and the girl has remained, a strong flame in the hearts of the people.

This is an ancient tale containing the unwritten truths of the story that unfolds.

 

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