The next day, Mikhail walked through the palace corridors alone.
His eyes were cold, distant. His mind churned.
With all these deaths, regrets, this war... I keep forgetting I'm not the real person in this body.
Hilowat dying shouldn't have hurt this much. He wasn't MY friend. He was... his.
But these god-forsaken memories keep coming. In dreams. In flashes. I know they're not mine. But they feel so real.
Sometimes I think... Mikhail and I will merge into one.
He stopped walking, standing alone in the empty corridor.
I don't want to think about that anymore.
Let's meet the Emperor.
Two Imperial Knights stood guard at the throne room doors. They bowed as Mikhail approached and pulled the heavy doors open.
Mikhail stepped inside.
The throne room was vast, empty except for the man seated at its center.
The Emperor smiled as his son entered.
"Mikhail. You've finally decided to come see your old man." His tone was light, almost teasing. "Is there a reason you avoided me?"
Mikhail stopped before the throne.
He tilted his head slightly to the right and stared at his father with cold, empty eyes.
The Emperor's smile faded.
"Mikhail Evercross." His voice hardened. "I can see the hatred radiating through your eyes. But don't forget—I am your father. But I am also The Emperor."
Mikhail scoffed.
"You talk about not forgetting, Father." His voice was quiet, sharp. "Should I also not forget how we reached Eldrath with misinformation? The kingdom was already on the verge of collapse when we arrived."
The Emperor leaned back in his throne, unfazed.
"You can blame me all you want, Mikhail. But it was a test. To see what you're capable of." He paused. "Life is not always as it's written in the scrolls. Reality is always much worse. But you still won. That shows you are capable of greatness, my son."
Mikhail shook his head slowly.
"No. I don't blame you." His voice dropped. "Because it was I who sent Hilowat to charge to his death."
The Emperor's expression softened.
"Forgiveness is a great strength you have yet to learn."
Mikhail's jaw tightened.
"I seek forgiveness, yet I cannot forgive myself. I seek understanding, yet I cannot understand myself."
The Emperor rose slowly from his throne and descended the steps. He placed a hand on Mikhail's shoulder.
"It was not your fault, Mikhail. Hilowat had a duty—to go to any length if it meant keeping you safe, earning you victory."
Mikhail nodded stiffly.
"I see."
The Emperor withdrew his hand, studying his son's face.
"Well. Speaking of victory..." He smiled. "What do you wish to do with that Orc chieftain?"
Mikhail's eyes went cold.
"That beast is mine. I won it." His voice dropped to something dangerous. "If anyone dares look at it, I'll take their eyes out and wear them around my neck."
The Emperor's smile widened.
"Now that is the son I remember."
He turned toward the far door.
"Come in."
The door opened.
A Holy Knight stepped inside—armor pristine, a red cape flowing behind them. A mace hung at their waist. A longsword across their back.
The knight knelt before them, head bowed.
Mikhail reached out with his mind instinctively—
Nothing.
He frowned.
Oh, wonderful. Another strong character whose mind I can't read.
He turned to the Emperor.
"And this knight is?"
The Emperor smiled.
"This is Gwenllian. Though lacking Hilowat's experience, she is the top candidate to become the next Vice Commander." He gestured to the kneeling figure. "Naturally, she will be your personal bodyguard."
Mikhail blinked.
He pointed at the knight.
"So that's a woman under the armor?"
The Emperor laughed.
"Yes."