When the elden's father collapse
That same day, a royal physician arrived and examined Elden's father. He gently held the old man's wrist, fingers pressing against the pulse, eyes narrowed in concentration as he checked his nerves and breathing.
Elden stood nearby, restless.
"He is my father," Elden said firmly. "He collapsed while we were discussing something important. Tell me honestly— is there something wrong with his health?"
The physician straightened and gave a calm nod.
"I have checked his pulse. He is stable, though slightly irregular. Most likely the result of extreme mental strain and prolonged workload. Nothing permanent. He only needs rest."
The physician reached into his pouch and produced a small vial.
"I will prescribe some herbs. They will help him sleep and ease his stress."
Relief washed over Elden's face, though unease still lingered in his eyes.
After seeing the physician off, Elden returned to his private chamber. Time passed slowly as he waited for his father to awaken. Evening descended upon the land, bathing the empire in a golden stillness.
Elden stood by the window, gazing out over his territory. The land was peaceful— almost deceptively so. Fields stretched endlessly, villages resting quietly beneath the sky. Watching it stirred memories of his childhood: days untouched by responsibility, laughter echoing through palace halls, a time when the future did not weigh so heavily on his shoulders.
Yet worry tightened his chest.
This peace will not last, he thought.
The image of those blue flames— the same flames Rudra bore— resurfaced in his mind. Just a mere glance at that portrait had nearly crushed his father. Such fear did not come from imagination.
Something enormous is buried in the past, Elden realized.
And that buried past is trying to claw its way back into the world— strong enough to shake the foundations of every empire.
A sudden knock echoed through the chamber.
"Yes," Elden replied. "You may enter."
A maid stepped inside and bowed.
"My lord, His Grace has awakened. He wishes to see you immediately."
Elden nodded.
"Tell him I will be there shortly."
Moments later, Elden entered his father's chamber, his heart heavy with questions. The old man lay resting, his eyes now sharp despite the weakness in his body.
"Father," Elden said softly. "Are you feeling better? You collapsed so suddenly— I was deeply worried."
His father smirked faintly.
"Before asking about the future of the kingdom, you should at least ask about my health, brat. Have you forgotten basic courtesy?"
Elden lowered his head.
"I apologize, Father. But seeing you in that condition frightened me. I know this is not something simple. Please— tell me. Who was the man in that portrait? And why were you so terrified? I have never seen fear in your eyes like that before."
He took a step closer, his voice firm yet respectful.
"You know something. You know what those flames are. You know who that man was."
Elden's father exhaled deeply, his expression darkening.
"In truth," he said in a heavy voice, "I wish I had never witnessed those flames in reality. Those flames are not power— they are a curse. A curse that devours everything until only ash remains."
Elden's eyes widened.
"So you do know about those mysterious flames. Then we should act now. If they are that dangerous, the future of the empire is at stake."
His father shook his head slowly.
"I wish we could do something. But if the flames you described are truly the same as the ones in that image, then action itself means death. The best we can do is stand still. If we move, we die. There is no escape from them."
Elden clenched his fists.
"If you are this certain, then there is something you know. Tell me, Father. We must find a way to protect our kingdom."
The old man's gaze hardened.
"First," he said, "answer me this— what do you know about the war that occurred two hundred years ago?"
Elden paused, recalling fragmented tales.
"The Great War. I know little. That war led to the birth of all sixteen great empires. No one knows why it began. The strangest part is that there are no records of the world before it. It's as if a storm erased everything, and what remained formed the new world."
His father nodded grimly.
"And what if I told you that the storm you speak of was not a force of nature— but a single man? The previous wielder of those blue flames."
Elden stiffened.
"When I was a child," his father continued, "my grandfather used to tell me stories of that war. He— and your great-great-grandfather— were among the rare survivors."
Elden swallowed.
"What did he tell you that relates to what's happening now?"
The old man's voice dropped, heavy with memory.
"He said that before the war, many races lived alongside humans. But endless conflict turned that era into lawlessness. No one was safe. That chaos became the catalyst for the war— a war not between nations, but between all races."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"One day, on the battlefield, a man appeared. Out of nowhere. His entire body was engulfed in blue flames. No one knew where he came from. No one understood the nature of his power."
Elden listened, frozen.
"That man drew his sword," his father continued, "and declared war on everything. Those flames turned the battlefield upside down in a single day. The war between races became a war of all races against one man."
His voice trembled.
"He killed everyone. Soldiers, kings, monsters— no exceptions. Mountains of corpses covered the land. And still, he did not falter. There was no sorrow in his eyes, no hesitation. After the massacre, the flames vanished as if they had never existed."
The room fell silent.
"The survivors," his father whispered, "named him the Emperor of Death."
Elden stood speechless.
"That has to be a myth," he finally said. "No one can be that strong. No one can fight the world itself."
His father looked at him calmly.
"That is the only thing that makes it unbelievable. But if it is true, then we are doomed. All we can do now is ensure that the boy does not choose the same path."
Elden frowned.
"If someone like that existed, why is he forgotten?"
"Because no one wants to remember the face of their death," his father replied. "The survivors erased him from history out of fear. Even if records existed, no one would believe them. Today's truth becomes tomorrow's myth."
Elden nodded slowly.
"I understand. It does sound like a horror story."
"I thought so too," his father admitted. "Until you told me about a boy who bears the same flames."
A dangerous thought crossed Elden's mind.
"Then why don't we kill Rudra now? For the sake of the empire."
His father's eyes sharpened.
"No. If he truly wields those flames, then fate itself will decide his end. Such power cannot be stopped by us."
Elden sighed.
"Then what choice do we have?"
His father looked at him carefully.
"You mentioned something earlier— you called him a vessel of the void. Where did you hear that?"
Elden explained everything: Rudra's foster father Richerd told him about , the blue flames, the journey, and Rudra's search for a companion.
After listening, his father nodded.
"The boy does not understand his own power. He needs guidance. Send your younger brother with him."
Elden blinked.
"Kael? Father, he barely follows your orders, let alone someone else's."
His father smiled faintly.
"That is precisely why he is suited for this."
Before Elden could respond, a voice echoed from the shadows.
"My, my," it said mockingly. "Aren't you two overthinking things? Believing fairy tales now?"
A boy stepped forward— around sixteen, long white hair cascading over his shoulders, dressed in black with a long robe and a standing collar. His eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Kael," Elden sighed. "You're as irritating as ever."" it's a Serious Matter Belief is irrelevant, brother. If that story is true, then the only choice left to us… is to count the dead."
Kael smirked.
"If the story is true, I'll go with him. But I won't babysit some third-rate merchant's son. I'll test him. And if he's unworthy— I'll eliminate him."
Their father burst into laughter.
"You truly never change. And how long have you been eavesdropping, brat?"
"Since you collapsed," Kael replied casually. "Your story was boring— until it wasn't."
The old man nodded.
"Then it's settled. Tomorrow, both of you will go to the capital. Investigate the boy. If he poses a threat— resolve it by any means necessary."
That night, Elden sent a letter to Alex by pigeon, informing him that a companion had been chosen for Rudra and that they would arrive the next afternoon.
Thus, a new chapter in Rudra's life began.
Each of them carried their own motives.
None of them understood the true gravity of what was about to awaken.
And beneath the calm surface of the world—
the last flame stirred once more.