Chapter 50

Kaiyan arched a brow.

The animal habitually maintained several paces of distance from everyone save its master. To see it lower its guard, moving within reach of a stranger as if the man were merely a part of the scenery, was unprecedented. Kaiyan had only ever witnessed such behavior in the presence of the veteran stablemaster. Yet the bodyguard appeared no more interested in the horse now that it stood beside him than he had from afar. Most would have reached out to touch the magnificent creature, but the bodyguard simply watched. He made no attempt to restrain himself or offer a wary, trembling hand. He simply sat there, existing in a silent, seamless harmony with a living, breathing entity.

Then a stray cat trotted over, a sparrow clamped in its jaws, and moved proudly toward the guard. The horse wandered off, annoyed, but in the final moment, Kaiyan saw it bump the back of the bodyguard’s hand with its muzzle, a silent, impatient command to move so it could reach the grass beneath.

It had been a fleeting gesture, but it remained seared into Kaiyan’s memory. It was yet another piece of the puzzle that refused to fit.

Kaiyan prided himself on his razor-sharp instincts. He had danced with death for years, and his intuition had never faltered. It was the compass that guided his every move: Dangerous. Safe. Possible. Impossible. Act. Restrain.

He usually required hard evidence before taking action, but when the truth remained veiled, he trusted his gut. The result always mirrored his premonitions.

But this man—

“Goat meat, my ass… do you have any idea how expensive that is? You demand it every single day for an entire week. You might as well just eat me instead,” the bodyguard muttered to himself, clearly under the impression that he was entirely unheard.

Kaiyan watched him, though he could not read the man. Something persistently scraped at the back of his mind, a riddle he could not solve. Was the man a threat, or a shield? Should he be purged, or kept?

At times, he even doubted the man was human at all, yet he had no evidence to support such a theory. The guard knew he was being watched, and occasionally, Kaiyan would test him, half in jest, half in earnest. He had ordered him to move a silver guillotine blade once used to behead witches, and on another day, he had forced him to carry objects blessed with holy water.

The guard was no fool. He understood the implication of such tasks, realizing that Kaiyan suspected him of practicing the dark arts. He would grow visibly dispirited, yet he obeyed without a word of protest. Kaiyan watched with a mask of indifference as the man handled items that should have burned him to ash if he were indeed a creature of magic.

He must think I am utterly paranoid… Good grief.

Once, Kaiyan had handed him a silver dagger with a curt order to stow it away. Moments later, during the man’s break, Kaiyan heard him grumbling in the rear garden. Looking down, he saw the guard crouched beneath a tree, sighing gloomily as he allowed the local strays to lick his hands. “That is enough, you bunch. Stop licking now.” He petted them, distributing pieces of his own dried jerky. He knew he was under the microscope, yet he never once acted to prove the suspicion true.

The vague, nagging disquiet simply lingered. Perhaps I should just finish him.

Nothing had ever bothered Kaiyan for this long. He had never hesitated to discard what irritated him, yet this feeling remained, a dry rustle of leaves at the edge of his perception. He had considered slaughtering the man out of pure, reflexive annoyance, but a deep, irrational instinct warned him to stay his hand and watch. So, he kept him alive.

Yet the irritation swelled, tightening his nerves with each passing day. 

Perhaps it is time to just cut him down. Still, it is quite fortunate this happened before the new moon itself.

With the path finally cleared of debris, Kaiyan found his stride, his gaze drifting upward toward the sprawling night sky. The moon had all but vanished, surrendering the heavens to the shroud of a new moon, which allowed the stars to pierce the darkness with an almost frantic brilliance.

Below that celestial glow, the guard’s features appeared drained of color, his skin taking on an unnatural, waxen pallor that verged on the inhuman. That profound, unsettling stillness triggered a sharp memory for Kaiyan, transporting him back to a Sunday Mass.

Attendance at the palace chapel was a requirement for the royal family, a ritual performed every Sunday morning under the watchful eyes of the guard detail. It was there, amidst the solemn atmosphere, that Kaiyan had first noticed him. The prince had turned his head, his gaze settling on a guard stationed by a support pillar, whose eyes remained locked onto the holy icon at the altar. His expression had been exactly as it was now.

Quiet. Still. Utterly unreadable.

The bodyguard had not broken his vigil once throughout the entire service.

“You seem deeply devout,” Kaiyan had remarked as they exited the sanctuary. “You never took your eyes off the holy image once.”

The bodyguard blinked, his head tilting with an air of vague ambiguity. “Not particularly, sir. I simply found myself wondering something.” He hesitated, his voice dropping. “Where will I go when I die?”

Though the man seemed hesitant to continue, Kaiyan remained still, his silence an invitation. After a long beat, the guard repeated the question, his tone softening until it was barely a whisper to himself. “Where will I go when I die?”

“They say those with deep faith are promised heaven,” Kaiyan replied.

The guard turned, offering only a faint, enigmatic smile. It was a lingering curvature of the lips that had haunted Kaiyan’s memory ever since.

“When I was young, a friend of mine nearby passed away from an illness,” the guard said, his speech fragmented as if he were picking through the wreckage of the past. “We were just children. Seven or eight, perhaps. The priest who came to pray for him saw me weeping and tried to offer comfort. He promised that, in time, we would meet again in the kingdom of heaven.” He fell silent, the weight of the memory hanging in the air. Finally, he exhaled a sound like a broken sigh. “I wish I had treated my friend better.”

“I suppose all one can do is give their best in each moment, while doing what they truly desire,” Kaiyan had answered.

The guard had frowned, seemingly displeased by the conventional nature of the advice, and rubbed at his temple. That had been the end of their conversation.

Now, the very same man walked alongside him, his body lacerated and scorched, staring listlessly at the star-studded void above.

“Why did you come here?”

The question slipped from Kaiyan’s lips before he could stop it. He realized belatedly that he had asked the same thing earlier, yet the essence of the inquiry felt entirely transformed. He was no longer fishing for an explanation of some clandestine scheme. This was something far simpler, a spark of genuine curiosity.

The guard turned, his expression pained. He blinked, looking for a moment like a child confronted with an impossible question, and returned to his previous answer. “Because I am Lord Kaiyan’s bodyguard.”

Because he is my bodyguard.

It was a technically accurate answer.

The bodyguard’s duty was to shield his master and ensure his survival. But it was the dead of night, and Kaiyan had issued no summons. The man in question could have easily feigned ignorance and stayed away. Yet, here he was.

“When a man takes the oath of a royal bodyguard, does the chief chamberlain make him swear upon the River of the Moon that he will fulfill his duty even at the cost of his life?” Kaiyan asked, his tone balancing on the edge of irony and genuine inquiry. Without some mystical binding, there seemed no logical reason for the man to act with such persistent loyalty.

The bodyguard stared at him, looking utterly confounded.

“How could they possibly administer that sort of oath to every single guard individually? Unless it is a formal contract sealed by a witch or a high-ranking magician, the binding force of a Blood Oath on the River of the Moon is not something one applies to a common soldier. It is, after all, an arduous, complex ritual that no one would waste on a standard guard.” He paused, his voice quieting. “I came because I wanted to. Although, I admit I wasn’t much help.”

“No,” Kaiyan agreed with chilling indifference. “You were not.”

The guard’s shoulders sagged. Watching that sudden deflation of spirit, for reasons Kaiyan could not quite articulate, felt satisfying. That was the crux of the matter. Why had he come?

The bodyguard shuffled along, eyes fixed on the ground in a fit of dejection, seemingly lost in dark contemplation. “But that sigil from earlier…” He started, his voice heavy, before shaking his head. “Never mind.”

Kaiyan understood the implication immediately. The sigil that had burned through the magical corpse as it crumbled was the mark of the Guildmaster. The king’s own contracted magician. The head of the court magicians. A man of immense, terrifying arcane power and even greater political reach. He was a recluse who had not stepped into the public eye for over a decade, a man even Kaiyan had seen only a handful of times in his life. Now, just as Kaiyan had identified his enemy, the Guildmaster knew exactly who was hunting him.

Our relations with the magicians were already precarious. Of all people, why did it have to be him? A bitter taste rose in Kaiyan’s throat.

Had he been any lesser a noble than a prince, he would have been long since banished to the frontier or executed. But this was the leader of the magicians. Whether this was an operation sanctioned by the magical guild or the Guildmaster’s own private vendetta remained unclear, but the situation had just become exponentially more dangerous.

Yet, one truth eclipsed all others. What they had confronted tonight transcended the reach of any conventional magician.

Animating a corpse from such a vast distance and forcing that hollow vessel to wield magic shattered the known laws of power. It meant he was drawing closer, finally closing the distance on the mystery he had pursued for so long.

The sensation, bordering on pure exhilaration, felt like a hunter finally glimpsing the shadow of his prey after an eternity of wandering through a dense, unforgiving forest. Yet, even as that adrenaline spiked, his focus was violently pulled elsewhere.

“Still, court magicians are required to swear loyalty to the royal family when they enter service, so they shouldn’t be able to harm you directly, but—ow!”

The guard had been muttering to himself when the cat perched on his shoulder suddenly sank its teeth into his cheek. He yelped, jolting in surprise, reaching up with one hand to pry the aggressive animal away while wiping a stinging tear from his eye with the other.

“Do you have any idea how much it hurts when you lick a burn? What do you mean I should worry about myself? I am already a lost cau—ow! Don’t lick my arm either!”

The bodyguard struggled to fend off the cats, who seemed intent on disciplining him for his lack of self-preservation.

Kaiyan watched this scene in silence. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white, before he forced his grip to loosen. A clue he had chased for years had finally materialized. Even the ominous sigil of the Guildmaster suddenly felt less pressing than the inexplicable irritation boiling in his chest.

If I drew my blade and cut him down, this crushing discomfort would vanish. If I don’t—is there any actual reason to stay my hand?

His inability to identify the source of his own agitation was the only thing keeping him from swinging the sword. Even if the man intended him no harm, that did not mean Kaiyan was obligated to let him live.

Then, breaking the silence, the bodyguard called out from a few paces ahead. “Ah. You waited so nicely. Good horse.”

Kaiyan’s horse recognized its rider, approaching with a soft, measured gait. Only when the stallion pulled up alongside the prince did the bodyguard visibly exhale, his rigid posture finally softening.

“I will notify the sentries on my way back,” the guard murmured. “Lord Kaiyan, you should return and rest immediately.” His voice was laced with an anxiety that Kaiyan found perplexing. “Will you be all right?”

It was a ridiculous question.

The guard had clearly trekked from beyond the city gate on foot and now faced a grueling half-hour walk back to the capital. Despite his own state, he scrutinized the prince as if fearful that Kaiyan might collapse mid-stride.

In truth, the man looked closer to death than the prince did. He seemed as though he might simply keel over and expire from exhaustion before ever reaching the city walls. Kaiyan would hardly need to draw his blade; the man’s own constitution might finish the job first.

“…”

Kaiyan reached out to pat the horse’s neck before vaulting into the saddle. He kept his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his gaze locked onto the bodyguard below. The man met his eyes without flinching, though his gaze flicked momentarily to the prince’s weapon. He had clearly deduced what Kaiyan was contemplating; a faint stiffness settled over his features. When their eyes locked again, Kaiyan narrowed his own, a surge of irritation pricking at his conscience.

It was a bizarre dynamic. He had never before seen prey stand before a predator capable of certain execution and meet that stare without resignation, submission, or a desperate fight for survival. What manner of thing was this?

They remained deadlocked. The bodyguard did not blink. Fear radiated from every line of his battered frame, yet he refused to look away. Finally, Kaiyan slowly released his grip on the hilt. A visible wave of relief washed over the guard’s face.

There is no need to do it now, Kaiyan thought, gathering the reins. I can cut him down whenever the whim strikes.

“Tomorrow—”

He began to speak, but the words died on his tongue.

What had he been about to say?

He had intended to order the man to stay away, to keep his distance. Kaiyan had never concerned himself with the welfare of subordinates, yet the man’s ravaged appearance offended him on a primal level. However, as the command formed, he faltered. If the guard does not come, if he is removed from my sight… The thought felt oddly more irritating than the man’s presence. It was safer, he reasoned, to keep this unidentified variable within his reach.

“Come in during the afternoon tomorrow.”

The instruction left him raw and strangely on edge. Irritation was a foreign, unwelcome sensation to the prince, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. The bodyguard blinked, appearing genuinely baffled by the command, before offering a low, stiff bow.

“Thank you.”

Kaiyan cast one final, piercing look at the man before driving his heels into the horse’s flanks. The animal lunged forward, galloping away from the desolate, filth-ridden factory grounds. While the city gate was only a short ride away, Kaiyan pushed the horse to a frantic pace, desperate to put distance between himself and that place.

Every vibration of the saddle sent a jolt of agony through his frame. The new moon was tomorrow, yet the anticipation of its arrival already felt like a suffocating shroud. His head throbbed with a rhythmic, splitting pain, and his stomach churned with sickening bile. Under normal circumstances, he might have tolerated the discomfort, but tonight, he craved oblivion.

The residual black smoke he had inhaled still scraped at his lungs, sapping his strength. He knew his own complexion likely mirrored that of a corpse, yet this man, beaten and burned within an inch of his life, had still prioritized the prince’s health over his own. Kaiyan clicked his tongue again, his frustration only mounting as he reached the city gate. A sentry bolted from the guard post, but upon spotting the royal crest, his demeanor shifted instantly to one of rigid deference.

“Torun, officer on duty at the First Capital—”

“There is a fire in an abandoned warehouse at the deserted factory grounds thirty draun northwest of here,” Kaiyan commanded, his voice cold. “Have it extinguished immediately.”

“Pardon? Yes, at once, Your Highness!”

“Before that, send someone to the site immediately. A man will be approaching from that direction. He is in his mid-twenties, average build, with a sword wound from his shoulder to his waist and severe burns. Bring him back.” Kaiyan fixed the sentry with a stare so sharp it seemed to pin the man to the ground. “Immediately.”

The sentry flinched as if struck. “Yes, Your Highness!”

The soldier turned and sprinted toward the post, and within moments, the previously silent barracks erupted into a frantic commotion. Soon, the signal fires began to glow along the length of the wall, one after another, illuminating the night.

The gatekeepers scrambled to heave the city gate open, yet the prince remained motionless. He lingered where he stood, an island of stillness amidst the sudden, frantic activity. Within the guardhouse, sentries were already signaling in every direction, executing their protocols with desperate efficiency. Yet, for Kaiyan, it was agonizingly slow.

Too slow.

He clicked his tongue, a soft sound of frustration in the quiet air. Only now did the obvious solution strike him. It would have been far simpler to collect him myself. The thought was alien. He had never in his life considered traveling with a companion or returning with someone in tow. The very concept had never crossed his mind. It was a realization that arrived far too late.

Meanwhile, the alarm had clearly rippled to the surrounding outposts. From a station tucked near the stables, a rider burst forth leading an empty mount, clearly intent on retrieval. Kaiyan watched the two horses vanish into the distance, tracing the path he had just traveled. He lingered in the silence for a moment before tightening his grip on the reins. As if discarding the final, fraying thread of his own hesitation, he pivoted his horse toward the city gate.

A faint, bruised light of dawn began to bleed into the eastern edge of the dark sky. Once he returned to the palace, his heavy, leaden limbs would surely surrender to a deathlike sleep. By the time he finally opened his eyes, the afternoon would be well advanced. The bodyguard would be there by then.

Yes.

For now, rest was his only objective.

He forcibly purged the image of the factory grounds from his mind, the site where his bodyguard might still be dragging a shattered body across the road, or perhaps huddled in some dark corner struggling to breathe. It was better to retreat to the palace.

Once he stirred from his slumber, the man would be standing at his side once more. Because he is my bodyguard. That singular fact was enough to guarantee his return.

***