Little Pink Starfish

Then why hadn’t that child returned?

How had he survived all this time alone?

Maybe three years ago, when Veloan fell into the Abyss, he’d managed to barely cling to the edge of a cliff and survived, waiting to be rescued.

Maybe he waited and waited desperately for Ishar, and eventually, disappointed by not being found, trembling in fear that he had been abandoned again, he had painstakingly climbed up the cliff on his own.

If he believed he had nowhere to return to—if he truly thought he’d been utterly discarded—he might have wandered that place, wounded and alone.

This isn’t the time for this.

Snapping back to his senses, Ishar raised his head, which had been bowed deeply, and walked out of the audience chamber.

“Your Majesty…?”

Shuzel, who had been waiting outside, reached out toward Ishar’s pale face but paused when he saw the purple eyes burning with emotion for the first time in a long while.

Without even glancing at Shuzel, Ishar began to move. His stride was so swift it was practically a run. Following him, Shuzel spoke up.

“Your Majesty, your next appointment is not in that direction. It’s the opposite way.”

“Cancel all remaining appointments.”

“Are you unwell, Your Majesty?”

“No. I have somewhere I must go.”

“You mean… right now? You’ve only just returned to the palace.”

When Ishar didn’t reply, Shuzel began to feel a creeping unease.

He had watched over Ishar his whole life. He knew what it meant when his lord wore that expression—how deeply it meant his heart had been shaken.

That’s why, even without knowing where Ishar was headed, Shuzel felt the urge to grab his ankle and stop him, no matter what.

Shuzel bit his lip, opened his mouth, closed it again, repeating the motions. The question was caught at the tip of his tongue.

“Your Majesty…”

There was only one person now who could stir such emotional turmoil in Ishar.

Over the past three years, Shuzel had seen how Ishar had tried so hard to erase that name from his life, which made it all the more difficult to say it aloud himself.

While he hesitated, Ishar arrived at his destination—the emperor’s bedchamber. It was unexpected, but Shuzel’s pale yellow eyes began to regain some brightness, filled with hope.

He thought maybe, at long last, his master was going to take a proper rest after three years. Maybe he had finally reached a place of emotional closure.

But that relief was short-lived. The moment Ishar came out holding his sword, Shuzel realized he had misunderstood everything.

“I’m going to the Abyss. Sir Quiste, you are to guard the capital. If I do not return within two days, contact Rekayan or Sir Nikid. If you cannot reach either, mobilize Esche and the Imperial Guard immediately.”

“Your Majesty. Wait a moment. Did you just say… the Abyss?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Why are you going there?”

“I wonder since when you’ve thought yourself entitled to question what I do.”

Ishar’s voice was like ice. That cold dismissal restored Shuzel’s composure, which had been teetering on the edge of fear.

“If it weren’t related to Lord Veloan, I wouldn’t dare to question you.”

“…You knew?”

The words were low and biting.

“I don’t know the details. But whenever you wear that expression, it has always been because of Lord Veloan. So yes, I’m certain.”

“…”

“You said you were going to the Abyss alone. That must mean you’ve received a report that someone resembling Lord Veloan was spotted, haven’t you? Then all the more reason to calm yourself. Your Majesty, what if this is a trap set by those who seek to harm you?”

“In the Abyss?”

Ishar laughed bitterly.

No matter how skilled an assassin might be, in the Abyss they’re just a mere human.

They might fare better than regular knights, but luring Ishar to such a chaotic place to assassinate him was highly improbable.

Even Ishar would not have gone himself if Veloan had been sighted in some inland village or city.

“I’ll tell you—since it’s information you’ll learn soon enough anyway. Someone believed to be Veloan was seen heading into the Void zone. You know better than anyone what that place is like right now.”

At this time of year, the Abyss’s Void zone was crawling with juvenile monsters.

Everywhere the ground was covered in eggs laid by beasts or strange cocoon-like structures that jutted up like trees, making it hard to even find a place to step.

Because of that, the stationed battalions remained between the Great Walls, dealing only with monsters that got too close.

Trying to draw Ishar into the Abyss’s Void zone was a waste of manpower and time. Not even a fool would set a trap there.

Perhaps there was a monster capable of killing Ishar waiting there—but beasts were no threat to Ishar.

“That’s all the more reason I can’t let you go alone.”

But Shuzel stood firm.

“I don’t know when you went deaf.”

“Then take me with you.”

“I refuse. Have you forgotten your duty to protect the capital in my absence?”

“Please, Your Majesty. Regain your reason.”

“That again? Don’t make me repeat what’s already over. Move aside, Sir Quiste.”

He needed to stop by the mana stone reserve due to the depletion he suffered at Mount Batern. Time was short, and yet Shuzel showed no signs of yielding.

“At least let me go in your stead. I can go with Aster.”

“That’s not possible.”

He hadn’t been there when Veloan fell into the Abyss that day.

How long had he regretted it since? Every night, every hour, reliving that day with bitter remorse—wishing he hadn’t sent him, or at least, that he had gone with him.

Ishar didn’t want to regret again.

More than anything, if he sent Shuzel instead, even with Aster accompanying him, he would kill Veloan this time—for the sake of his master. Ishar knew it. Over the past three years, he had watched from Ishar’s side. This time, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Do you truly not see your own condition?”

His face contorted with pain. Ishar knew that Shuzel was standing firm out of genuine concern.

“If you had taken even one day to rest, I wouldn’t stop you. But you haven’t been sleeping, haven’t been eating, haven’t taken a single break—you’ve just worked endlessly. You’re already at your limit. Even your aura flow is unstable. You could collapse at any moment. Please, look in the mirror and see how pale you are.”

“…Haah.”

This was going nowhere. Ishar sighed long and deep, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his purple eyes shone with lifeless clarity as he gazed calmly at Shuzel.

“This is the last time I’ll say it. Move aside.”

“I refuse.”

“Then I’ll make you.”

Without a sound, he drew his sword from its sheath and pointed it at Shuzel. He knew that if two Swordmasters clashed in this narrow corridor, the imperial palace might collapse—but his urgency overpowered caution.

“I permit you to attack your emperor. Draw your sword.”

But instead of drawing, Shuzel knelt.

He undid the sword from his waist and offered it to Ishar with both hands, his voice calm and composed.

“Kill me and go.”

“…”

“My life has belonged to you for a long time, Your Majesty. I have already failed in my duty to protect you, and it is fitting for that failure to be paid with my death. As your servant and the emperor of this empire, please deliver punishment to me before you descend into the Abyss.”

His sincerity was undeniable. He would rather die himself than see Ishar get hurt—too stubborn to simply draw his sword.

Maybe it was the mana depletion—or this very situation—but a sharp headache began to consume Ishar.

Time continued to slip away, even now. Veloan might leave that place. The urgency gnawed at his chest.

“Damn it.”

Ishar muttered as he returned the sword to its sheath. Shuzel, still kneeling, held out the sword with his head bowed.

“Shuzel-hyung.”

At the sound of that long-unused honorific, Shuzel flinched and raised his head. He saw those gentle purple eyes—like the surface of a tranquil lake.

“I don’t want to regret anymore. I regretted enough when Marriad died. When I learned the truth about Karsha. When I lost Veloan.”

Eyes deep and still as night, without a ripple, rested on Shuzel.

“This is the last time. I just want to see it with my own eyes. After that, I’ll return—fully—as the emperor.”

Shuzel had thought he had lost his reason. But seeing his eyes, he realized Ishar was more rational now than he had ever been.

“So when I come back, I want you to be there to welcome me—just like when we were young. You can scold me if you want. I’ll return unharmed. Even if I’m late, don’t blame yourself. Just you—please don’t let me regret you too.”

And so—

Faced with this cruelest of pleas—not a command—Shuzel could do nothing but lower his head in silence.

“I’ll be back.”

A faint breeze brushed past. The strands of blue-white hair tied back swayed like an afterimage before his eyes. Just like that, Ishar passed Shuzel’s side.

Shuzel could not stop him.

Just like that day, when Ishar had left the palace alone, sword in hand, to avenge Marriad.