Chapter 47: The Sole one 'Alive'
Ethan's gaze lingered on her trembling form, his voice low yet steady, carrying a weight that brooked no argument.
"You'll belong to me."
The words slipped out harsher than he intended, and he clicked his tongue softly. No, that sounded wrong. He leaned back slightly, exhaling.
"What I mean is… you'll be mine. Not as a thing, but as someone no one else can claim."
Lirael froze, her lashes fluttering as heat crawled up her neck. She buried her face deeper into his chest, but her muffled voice betrayed her fluster.
"Y-you mean… I will belong to you? Like… so no one else can take me?"
Ethan gave a small, almost awkward nod.
"Exactly. You understand what I mean… Please don't twist it the wrong way."
Her heartbeat quickened against him, a nervous rhythm that he could feel through the thin barrier of clothes.
"No… it's fine," she whispered, though her voice wavered. "B-but… doesn't that put you in danger?"
A faint smirk tugged at Ethan's lips. His eyes darkened, resolute.
"Heh… let them come. If they don't back down with words, then I'll force them to."
Lirael bit her lip, fidgeting as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Her body shifted restlessly atop his lap, the warmth between them thickening.
"But… how will you prove it?" she asked, cheeks tinted crimson. "That I… b-belong to you?"
Ethan blinked. "That's… the problem. I don't know how."
For a moment, silence stretched—only the sound of their mingled breaths filling the air. Then, almost too soft to hear, Lirael murmured:
"I… only know one way someone belongs to another person."
Ethan tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "And what is that?"
Her lips quivered as she forced the words out.
"A… s-slave."
Ethan's eyes widened in disbelief. "…What?"
Her face burned as she puffed her cheeks in defiance, though her voice was still meek.
"I-I'm fine with it… if it's you. I don't mind becoming your s-slave. B-but promise me you won't ever treat me like one."
For once, Ethan was struck speechless. His brows furrowed, caught between amusement and exasperation.
"…You can't be serious."
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair as if to ground himself.
"Well, it's obvious I won't treat you as one… but what about others—"
Lirael cut him off, her voice firmer than he expected though still trembling.
"Then it's done. I don't care what others think. B-but… we'll need to go to a slave trader, right? To make it official with a contract."
Her cheeks puffed up as if she were bracing for him to scold her.
Ethan stared at her for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle—half defeat, half admiration.
"Haah… you've really decided, haven't you? Well then, there's nothing I can do. Tomorrow, we'll check if we can find a legitimate trader. But…" His tone deepened, his hand gently brushing against her back. "…I promise you this: I'll do everything I can to help you. And if it's possible—" his eyes hardened, "—I'll rescue your mother."
Her body stiffened for a heartbeat before she leaned on his chest, her breath tickling against his collarbone.
"Mhmm…" she murmured softly, nestling closer as though his heartbeat itself was enough to calm her.
Then—
A sharp chime split the silence.
Ethan's vision blurred, pale-blue runes etching themselves across his sight like fire on parchment.
---
[New System Quest!]
A descendant of the fallen Empire lies in mortal danger.
With every knight slain, every soldier buried, and every vassal silenced, none remain to raise their blade in vengeance or deliver salvation.
You are the sole one alive who can act in their stead.
Mission: Rescue Seridien Vaerune from Frosthelm Citadel, Thorneveil Kingdom.
Reward: Black Dragon Egg
---
Ethan's eyes narrowed, a muscle twitching at his jaw. Seridien Vaerune… her mother. She's alive.
His gaze softened as it fell on Lirael, still pressed into him, unaware of the revelation hanging in glowing letters before his eyes. Her trust in him was absolute. If he told her now, she'd cling to that hope recklessly—and if things went wrong… it would break her beyond repair.
No. I can't give her false hope.
But the words carved into the notification refused to let him rest.
"Sole one alive who can act…"
Not heir. Not chosen. Just the last remnant left standing.
It was an epitaph disguised as a mission. A declaration that every knight, every soldier, every commander of that Empire was already gone. Their banners burned, their blades shattered, their loyalty reduced to dust.
The thought weighed heavy, a cold pressure in his chest.
If that's true… then I'm carrying the vengeance of an entire Empire on my shoulders. Alone.
His hand stilled on Lirael's back, fingers curling slightly as though to anchor himself.
And yet, beneath that grim certainty, a darker possibility stirred—what if not all of them had stayed buried? What if some remnants still lingered, neither alive nor truly dead, clinging to broken oaths and ruined halls?
Ethan exhaled slowly, forcing the thought aside. Speculation won't help. The task at hand is clear: rescue Seridien Vaerune. Whatever else waits, I'll face it head-on.
A dragon egg? That too… a black dragon? Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly at the glowing words still lingering in the corner of his vision. From what I know, they're among the most powerful breeds. A reward like this… it won't come easily. But it won't come anytime soon either, so there's no use obsessing over it now.
His gaze shifted back down to the girl curled against him. Lirael's silver lashes fluttered faintly as though she were fighting sleep, her warmth steady against his chest. A faint smile tugged at his lips before he reached out and flicked her forehead.
She blinked up at him in surprise. "Eh—?"
Then, before she could react further, Ethan's voice dropped, firm and unyielding.
"You know? I won't allow you to see me as some brotherly figure you can run to whenever you want to share your woes. I'm a man. And I'll make sure you see me as one. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
The words fell like a sudden thunderclap in the quiet room.
Lirael's eyes widened, her face blooming scarlet all the way to the tips of her ears. She looked at him, lips parting as though she wanted to argue—but no words came. Instead, she lowered her gaze, mumbling so softly it was almost lost to the silence.
"…I never said I didn't see you as a man."
Ethan leaned forward. "Hmm? Did you say something?"
Her head snapped up, hair swaying. "N-no! Nothing at all!"
Flustered, she scrambled off his lap, though her movements betrayed hesitation, almost reluctance. She tugged the blanket over herself in a rush, her back to him, her slender shoulders trembling faintly.
Ethan chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
"Well, as long as you understand. Sleep well, Lirael. Goodnight."
He rose, his footsteps steady but unhurried as he left the room, closing the door behind him.
For a while, only silence lingered. Then, beneath the blanket, Lirael clutched at the fabric, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
Strange… I feel so light, as if the burden I've carried all this time has eased. The memory of Ethan's arms and his unwavering words replayed in her mind, and her lips curled unconsciously into the faintest smile.
Her cheeks flared crimson as she buried her face into the pillow.
"…A s-slave… but if my master is him… then I don't mind."
The whisper was swallowed by the night, her heart pounding louder than the words themselves.