“Please take good care of Dami.”
In a small whisper, he pulled the end of the scroll and tore it with all his might.
Sizzle-
As the activated scroll began to shine, Akkard retreated. Soon after, Owen and the Saint in his arms were enveloped in a bright light.
No one remained where the explosive light faded away. After confirming they had safely teleported to the palace, Akkard smiled softly.
‘I’m sorry, your Highness, Heinrich.’
His sister Sienna offered her allegiance to Queen Marguerite with all her heart. But this was not the case with Akkard.
He and the Crown Prince had a more mutually beneficial relationship, a cooperative relationship, and more like a companion. So Akkard could close his eyes at the last minute and choose Damia over the Crown Prince.
Only if the Saint was with him that it would have been problematic for him to have been caught by the Great Temple. However, the Saint moved to the palace with Owen, and instead, the temple would no longer be able to accuse Akkard of the murder of the Saint.
She will now be safe in Heinrich’s hands.
‘But in this case, I will die because I am useless.’
Yet, strangely, my mind was at ease. After all, he was not chosen by Damia, and what was left was having to miss her for the rest of his life, drowning in alcohol and regret.
Rather, it was a much more valuable use of his remaining life to do something for Damia and die. He always made her cry, so he wanted to make her laugh at least once.
Even in exchange for this life.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get you out.”
Akkard looked back at Calix and apologized briefly. Then he shook his head and smiled faintly.
“No, you have saved my sister, so I have no regrets.”
It may be empty words, but because of Calix’s words, Akkard’s heart became lighter. Pulling out his sword, he looked back at his men and spoke briefly.
“Let’s go, for His Highness Heinrich.”
“For His Highness!!”
The minions who chanted together followed Akkard. As if burning the last of their lives, they flashed their swords and rushed at the paladins in unison.
* * *
After a month, Damia returned to the royal palace after receiving a short telegram and opened the door. And he ran towards the welcomed and familiar face she spotted
“Father!!”
Owen got up from his seat and hugged the shuddering Damia. Damia was out of breath, held in her arms, wept, and sobbed.
She felt so very fortunate that her father was safe and unharmed. Although she received a telegram that he had returned, the content was so short that she had been unsure.
He was alive, but she ran, anxious to see if he was injured and what happened to her father. But her father really came back intact and unscathed.
Damia shed tears of relief. Heinrich’s voice suddenly came from beside her.
“Oh my, Lady Damia. You must be quite pleased.”
He sounded strangely bitter. Damia promptly corrected her posture, and she belatedly respectfully greeted Heinrich.
“… … I apologize for my rudeness, Your Highness. I am sorry for displaying my lack of manners.”
“No, I understand. The bond of blood and love is the deepest of all things.”
With his arms crossed, Heinrich replied with a face full of anguish. Damia saw this and wondered if something was wrong, so she asked worriedly,
“What happened to the saint?”
In this battle, the one who recaptured. The Saint wins. When Damia, who had remembered this, asked, Heinrich gestured her chin to the bedroom inside her parlor.
“Her condition is a bit dire, but since she’s a saint, it doesn’t seem like she’s going to die. After treatment, she felt much better. After she came to her senses for a brief moment, she promised me that she would take my side and accuse the temple.”
“That’s a relief.”
“No, Damia. It is not so.”
Heinrich finally lost his composure and held his forehead. Seeing that shadow-filled face, Damia felt the blood all over her body drain and go cold.
‘Why is his Highness making such a face?’
Damia, who managed to turn her stiff neck, scanned the inside of the parlor and realized immediately. The fact that there was one face missing that should have been here.
“Where is Sir Akkard?”
Her anxiety slowly seeped into her veins like cold poison, numbing her fingertips and hardening her lungs. Because of this her voice asking was struggling with a shortness of breath.
Unexpectedly, it was Owen who answered her question instead.
“He was left behind. Instead, he had me leave first.”
Owen added, with a face that looked like he was about to cry.
“In order to save me… … .”
“Please take good care of Dami.”
In a small whisper, he pulled the end of the scroll and tore it with all his might.
Sizzle-
As the activated scroll began to shine, Akkard retreated. Soon after, Owen and the Saint in his arms were enveloped in a bright light.
No one remained where the explosive light faded away. After confirming they had safely teleported to the palace, Akkard smiled softly.
‘I’m sorry, your Highness, Heinrich.’
His sister Sienna offered her allegiance to Queen Marguerite with all her heart. But this was not the case with Akkard.
He and the Crown Prince had a more mutually beneficial relationship, a cooperative relationship, and more like a companion. So Akkard could close his eyes at the last minute and choose Damia over the Crown Prince.
Only if the Saint was with him that it would have been problematic for him to have been caught by the Great Temple. However, the Saint moved to the palace with Owen, and instead, the temple would no longer be able to accuse Akkard of the murder of the Saint.
She will now be safe in Heinrich’s hands.
‘But in this case, I will die because I am useless.’
Yet, strangely, my mind was at ease. After all, he was not chosen by Damia, and what was left was having to miss her for the rest of his life, drowning in alcohol and regret.
Rather, it was a much more valuable use of his remaining life to do something for Damia and die. He always made her cry, so he wanted to make her laugh at least once.
Even in exchange for this life.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get you out.”
Akkard looked back at Calix and apologized briefly. Then he shook his head and smiled faintly.
“No, you have saved my sister, so I have no regrets.”
It may be empty words, but because of Calix’s words, Akkard’s heart became lighter. Pulling out his sword, he looked back at his men and spoke briefly.
“Let’s go, for His Highness Heinrich.”
“For His Highness!!”
The minions who chanted together followed Akkard. As if burning the last of their lives, they flashed their swords and rushed at the paladins in unison.
* * *
After a month, Damia returned to the royal palace after receiving a short telegram and opened the door. And he ran towards the welcomed and familiar face she spotted
“Father!!”
Owen got up from his seat and hugged the shuddering Damia. Damia was out of breath, held in her arms, wept, and sobbed.
She felt so very fortunate that her father was safe and unharmed. Although she received a telegram that he had returned, the content was so short that she had been unsure.
He was alive, but she ran, anxious to see if he was injured and what happened to her father. But her father really came back intact and unscathed.
Damia shed tears of relief. Heinrich’s voice suddenly came from beside her.
“Oh my, Lady Damia. You must be quite pleased.”
He sounded strangely bitter. Damia promptly corrected her posture, and she belatedly respectfully greeted Heinrich.
“… … I apologize for my rudeness, Your Highness. I am sorry for displaying my lack of manners.”
“No, I understand. The bond of blood and love is the deepest of all things.”
With his arms crossed, Heinrich replied with a face full of anguish. Damia saw this and wondered if something was wrong, so she asked worriedly,
“What happened to the saint?”
In this battle, the one who recaptured. The Saint wins. When Damia, who had remembered this, asked, Heinrich gestured her chin to the bedroom inside her parlor.
“Her condition is a bit dire, but since she’s a saint, it doesn’t seem like she’s going to die. After treatment, she felt much better. After she came to her senses for a brief moment, she promised me that she would take my side and accuse the temple.”
“That’s a relief.”
“No, Damia. It is not so.”
Heinrich finally lost his composure and held his forehead. Seeing that shadow-filled face, Damia felt the blood all over her body drain and go cold.
‘Why is his Highness making such a face?’
Damia, who managed to turn her stiff neck, scanned the inside of the parlor and realized immediately. The fact that there was one face missing that should have been here.
“Where is Sir Akkard?”
Her anxiety slowly seeped into her veins like cold poison, numbing her fingertips and hardening her lungs. Because of this her voice asking was struggling with a shortness of breath.
Unexpectedly, it was Owen who answered her question instead.
“He was left behind. Instead, he had me leave first.”
Owen added, with a face that looked like he was about to cry.
“In order to save me… … .”
