Ch#164
164.
Act 3. The Tomb Has No Name
“A terrible monster lurks inside my son’s body.”
His father spoke in a mournful tone.
Eyes stained with fear and agony glanced briefly over his face before returning to the elderly priest dressed in liturgical robes.
“You know it well, do you not? The curse that flows through the Sheikan bloodline…”
A thick sense of loathing suddenly seeped into his father’s voice.
“My grandfather possessed the ‘Demon’s Eye.’ He could see through not only the hearts of men but their very destinies. Everyone revered and feared him for it, but I knew the true nature of that power. It is nothing more than an ominous, wicked force that deviates from divine providence.”
His father’s glinting eyes turned toward the altar of the prayer room.
Carved into the white marble dais were the heroes who had contributed to the founding of the Roem Empire and the pagans who fought against them.
Staring intently at the carvings, his father continued as if making a confession.
“In the past, our ancestors sought to conquer the nations using that power. Through the strength of wicked sorcery, they trampled other races and scattered their blood to offer the essence of life to the spirits of the earth. They believed that the land stained with blood would remain our clan’s territory for eternity.”
Pausing for a moment, his father lifted his gaze.
The light piercing through the glass window added a strange luster to his father’s eyes. He looked like a man possessed.
“But the ambitions of our ancestors were ruthlessly crushed before the apostles of God. Considering the sins committed by the Khan people, we rightfully should have become slaves to the victors. However, the merciful Creator embraced our sinful race as His people. In return for that mercy, the Sheikan family swore to fulfill their duties as loyal members of the Empire.”
His father’s gaze settled back on him. He could tell that this entire story was directed at him, not the priest.
After staring at him for a long time with eyes full of anguish, his father continued his lament.
“Until now, we have kept that oath, fulfilling our duties as followers of the Imperial Orthodox Church and loyal subjects of the Imperial Family. However, the heretical energy flowing in the Sheikan blood has not been perfectly severed even to this day. It appeared in my grandfather, and now, in my son…”
His father’s thin lips twitched minutely. It was the face of a man desperately suppressing something rising from within.
He wondered about the true nature of the emotion his father had swallowed.
Was it disgust? Or was it sorrow?
After a long silence, as if gathering the swirling emotions in his chest, his father finally brought up the main point with a determined face.
“I wish to excise the savage temperament this child possesses and reshape him into a perfect successor. To that end, I hope the Holy See will provide assistance.”
The elderly priest, who had been listening in silence, spoke up with a look of hesitation.
“The young master is still too young. Perhaps it would be better to wait until he grows a bit more before beginning his education, as you have done until now…”
“That is not enough.”
His father irritably cut the priest off.
“Many Easterners still haven’t perfectly abandoned their past beliefs. If left to grow among them, my son will completely lose his identity as a citizen of the Empire. He must be separated from this land as soon as possible.”
The priest looked down at him with an inquisitive gaze.
He seemed to wonder what it was about this young child, barely reaching his waist, that caused the ruler of the East to be overwhelmed by such anxiety.
He was curious as well. What exactly had his father seen in him to reach such a conviction?
As he looked up blankly, his father’s eyes turned dark as an abyss.
“I can sense it. Something that once resided within the bodies of my ancestors resides within this child as well… If my son grows up according to his true nature, this land will be plunged into great chaos.”
With those words, which sounded like a prophecy, his father’s form melted away grotesquely like candle wax.
The brilliant light surrounding the prayer room instantly faded to gray. The world flipped upside down along with a ringing tinnitus.
From somewhere, the heavy thud of an iron door closing echoed.
In the next moment, he found himself locked in a solitary cell so cold it chilled his bones.
He was brought here frequently. It was because he ignored all the rules of the monastery and questioned the teachings of the priests.
He didn’t know why he repeated such futile acts of defiance. The only thing gained from his foolish resistance was harsh corporal punishment.
His head knew it was wiser to at least pretend to obey. However, something in his heart refused to yield.
Perhaps the violent ‘something’ his father mentioned was urging him to repeat this self-torture.
Because of it, he had to suffer endless pain. Unless he corrected the thing inside him, he would never be able to leave this place.
He resisted himself, the part of him that refused to be broken. He fought against the self that wanted to fight fiercely. He vowed that if a terrible monster lurked within him, he would remove it with his own hands.
That intense desire unfurled a strange hallucination before his eyes.
One day, within a frozen moment of time, he faced a giant beast. This monster was the source of his pain.
He approached the beast to carry out the resolution he had made every time he was locked in the narrow, dark room, every time he suffered under the lash.
Before he knew it, a white blade was gripped in his hand. He plunged it into the chest of the beast looking down at him.
The massive, hotly pulsating body writhed violently. He swung his blade repeatedly into the heavy, thrashing frame. Eventually, the giant body covered in black fur collapsed powerlessly.
However, the six red eyes were still watching him. He reached out a trembling hand and touched the blood-soaked body. The heart, frozen cold, no longer beat.
Would this finally free him from the pain?
Suddenly, he felt something trickling down his cheek. When he touched his face, it was soaked with tears.
He didn’t even know why he was crying. With eyes full of confusion, he looked down again.
The six-eyed monster was gone, and a blonde boy lay there instead.
He turned over the fallen corpse. He saw his own face, frozen white. Cold droplets dripped down onto it. However, the tears of mourning dried up in an instant. The hallucination soon scattered.
When he opened his eyes again, he realized that something within him had died forever.
The scent of blood wafted from somewhere.
Waking from a light sleep, Barkas cast a dry gaze beyond the entrance of the tent. The pale morning sun, just beginning to rise, scattered a chilling light.
He gauged the time while watching it, then stood up, took his scabbard, and went outside. Military tents lined up in orderly rows and a makeshift military base filled his vision.
He cut through the bustling soldiers and approached the defensive line.
The heads of the traitors he had personally executed a few days ago were hung atop the wooden palisades erected by the soldiers. He stared briefly at the empty eye sockets, perhaps pecked away by flocks of birds, before climbing the ladder to survey the occupied territory.
The ramparts of Beldis, one of the northern military strongholds, and the plains stretching out to the west lay before his eyes.
Given the terrain of this land, filled with rugged mountains and canyons, Beldis was one of the few open areas where large-scale forces could gather for a proper pitched battle.
Most large-scale supplies and troops heading to the southeastern region of Balto had to pass through this area. In other words, by occupying this place, they were now able to effectively isolate Balto.
‘I should be able to push for peace talks soon.’
Leaning against the railing, he opened the canteen at his waist and moistened his throat.
The nobles of the Northern Federation, realizing they were cornered, would soon turn their backs on the faction that led the rebellion.
They would try to settle the situation by electing a new ruler with pro-imperial tendencies.
If he could persuade the Imperial Family to sign a peace treaty then, he would be able to end this tedious war of attrition.
‘Two months at the earliest, three at the latest, and I’ll be able to return to Kalmor.’
He let out a long breath and roughly brushed back his disheveled hair.
It had already been over two years since the civil war broke out. During that time, he visited Raedgo Castle whenever the opportunity arose, but after entering full-scale combat, he had no choice but to monitor the situation within his territory through messengers.
The last time he saw her was half a year ago.
Even then, he had only observed her condition from afar. This was the first time he had left the castle for such a long period, and he was extremely anxious.
Though he received regular reports on her well-being through the head maid and his subordinates, mere sentences written on paper were not enough to put his mind at ease.
