CHAPTER 20: The One Who Is Red
Cinderfall.
Somewhere near the territory of Nysia.
Zalchys had just arrived.
“Hmm?”
As he walked through the streets, something felt… off. There were people around but far fewer than there should have been.
He wore a red cloak, borrowed from Elestria.
Originally, Elestria had intended to roam the entire land in search of him. Prepared to enter any kingdom regardless of cost, she had left Nyx with nearly everything ready. When Zalchys announced his intention to head for Cinderfall, she gave him an adjustable red cloak and some money.
‘Is it just my imagination, or are there fewer people here—’
Before he could finish the thought, his vision flashed gold.
And then.
‘Huh? Why does it feel like everyone is staring straight at me?
My appearance isn’t even that out of place. Then why?
When I look into their eyes… do they seem… golden? And why is it the same for everyone?’
He frowned.
“Maybe it’s just the side effects of my… of my…”
His voice faltered.
“Of my… what?”
He paused.
“Why am I here again?”
The answer slipped away before it could take shape.
“Ouh right… I came to meet someone… But who? And why?”
He hesitated.
The questions unraveled in his mouth.
Zalchys stopped in the middle of the street, standing motionless—lost.
The few people nearby didn’t spare him a glance.
Time passed. How much? It wasn’t that he couldn’t tell, but he felt it was useless to ponder about that.
At one point, a man walked straight along the path Zalchys stood on and passed right through him.
Later, a child ran over to retrieve a ball that rolled through his body as though he weren’t there.
Then a crawling child wandered toward Nysia, only for the mother to rush over—passing through Zalchys as she scooped the child into her arms.
Zalchys felt nothing.
He didn’t react.
He simply watched.
His stillness carried an eerie calm, as if he had accepted this state long ago. As though this, whatever it was, felt normal to him.
At some point, thought returned.
‘That’s right… I… I—what?
Am I… real?
Is this place real?
My imprisonment… Why was I imprisoned? How did I achieve my powers in the first place?’
The questions piled up, collapsing into one another.
In the end, he couldn't find the answer to any of them.
Unbeknownst to him, one person had been watching Zalchys since the moment he arrived in Cinderfall.
The man hadn’t moved even once.
He, too, wore a red cloak but unlike Zalchys’s, his was finely made, expensive, and conspicuously out of place in this rural border town.
He sat inside a roadside restaurant. From his seat, Zalchys was clearly visible. A wistful expression rested on the man’s face. The hot dish before him had long gone cold, yet neither he nor the waitress nor the owner seemed to care.
As the sun began to sink.
“I sometimes wonder…”
The man murmured.
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“What exactly counts as real in this place?”
He rose.
Several gold coins landed on the table.
He stretched his arms and legs lazily, as though easing stiffness that had settled in long ago—the kind that came from waiting, rather than moving.
“Maybe I've been waiting for you… or not? Anyways, since I’m already here… I might as well play my role.”
He smiled faintly.
“Though I can’t untangle my own confusion… I can at least help you ask the right question.”
He left the restaurant and walked toward Zalchys.
For the first time in a long while, Zalchys heard footsteps.
A man in a red cloak approached him.
He stopped directly in front of him.
Then—
The man vanished into Zalchys.
To any observer, it would have looked as though one man simply walked into another—like a soul entering a statue.
Zalchys felt nothing.
Yet something shifted.
When he had arrived, the sun had been high overhead. Now, it hovered near the horizon.
Hours had passed.
Zalchys looked around.
No one stared at him anymore.
When his eyes met a man’s, the man smiled and nodded.
When his gaze met a kid’s, the kid smiled innocently.
Behind him, a crying child in its mother’s arms suddenly fell silent, looking toward him with a brilliant smile.
Yet still, at times… the world around him shimmered in a golden hue.
Zalchys exhaled slowly and asked himself—
“Am I… dreaming?”
…
Aethelgard.
Aetherwood.
Somewhere near the Redwood Tree.
The three corpses of Aveon’s minions were gone.
In their place lay a single body.
It was strangely intact with no wounds, no visible injuries. A corpse untouched by violence.
Suddenly, the body’s mouth stretched open unnaturally wide.
And then.
In the very next moment, it stopped. Black smoke seeped from its surface.
The heart dissolved into a dark mist, which slowly gathered, shaping itself into a humanoid silhouette.
Beside it, the corpse crumbled into ash without so much as a sound.
The soil beneath the ashes darkened slightly, as if something unseen had seeped into it.
“Tsk. Tsk. What a pain,” the figure muttered, its voice neither feminine nor masculine.
“Still… from the looks of it, things might finally come to an end this time.”
“I had to borrow those trash bodies for the mission. Though…”
It tilted its head slightly.
“What a pitiful group of brothers they were.”
A faint chuckle escaped it.
“I wonder why Lord Zalchys bothered killing them back in his early days.”
The dark figure drifted beneath the towering Redwood Tree, gazing toward the place where the once-young Zalchys had vanished not long ago.
“It’s about time I return. Hahaha! No doubt those two buffoons have missed me dearly.”
The figure began sinking into the ground.
Then it paused.
“…Did I really finish everything in Aethelgard?”
It hesitated.
“I think so… didn’t I?”
A shadowy hand rose, rubbing the space where its head should have been, like someone scratching absentmindedly, trying to recall a forgotten task.
“Ah—right. Yes, yes! There’s still that guy from back then.”
A low laugh followed.
“I should return to Aernight City and take that newbie with me. Right. Let’s do that.”
The figure vanished.
Minutes passed.
As the sun prepared to set.
A horse carriage arrived, stopping before the Redwood Tree.
A man in a silver robe stepped out. One eye was visible, the other lay hidden beneath an eyepatch.
“I don’t know if is still here…” Aveon muttered.
“But there should at least be some traces.”
He searched the area thoroughly but found no clues or whatsoever.
The darkened soil caught his attention but only for the briefest moment. He dismissed it without a second thought.
Disappointment crossed his face.
“Looks like I’ll have to waste some resources finding him before the upcoming event.”
He turned to leave.
But then he froze.
His visible eye widened.
He spun back toward the Redwood Tree and hurried forward, inspecting it more carefully this time.
Only after a long moment did he finally exhale.
“There was no Redwood Tree here that day. I’m certain of it.
But now… here it stands.”
His brow furrowed.
“And that lightning strike from nowhere… This is where he was sent flying.”
He paused.
“I don’t recall anything notable about this tree in all my time here…”
“…Wait. What am I saying? What did I mean by that just now?”
Confusion clouded his expression.
“Damn it! Something is definitely wrong with this part of the forest.
I should leave right now.”
With that, Aveon turned away from the Redwood Tree and left Aetherwood behind, unease lingering on his face.
Almost instantly after he was gone, the black figure re-emerged from nearby shadows.
It shook its indistinct head and spoke in a strange tone—
“This man, Aveon… he’s always like this. No matter where he is, or how things change.”
“He ignores the only detail that truly matters and obsesses over the unnecessary ones.”
A faint scoff followed.
“I can’t help but wonder… was he always like this? Even before I arrived? Tsk! Tsk!”
This time, the figure truly left Aetherwood, heading toward Aernight City in search of that
…
Cinderfall.
Cenking City.
Zalchys had been walking since he left the border area.
The sun had long since set.
Darkness quietly re-announced its reign across the seemingly borderless sky.
At this moment, the heart of Cinderfall was bustling with a low, humming sound.
Or at least, it appeared so to Zalchys.
‘The people are returning home after a long day… answering a call… the call of their hearts.
Their hearts seek warmth… the warmth of family… perhaps a fundamental necessity for a peaceful life…’
As he walked, Zalchys found himself standing before—
“Fiamma… Ceniza… Carine… Cinderfall…”
He murmured softly.
“Who is Carine? Who was Fiamma? I should ask Ceniza.”
He reminded himself.
He glanced around.
Almost half the people had already left, while the other half remained.
“These are nighttime workers… They just arrived after saying goodnight to their families.”
He muttered.
He closed his eyes.
‘I can hear them.
Those who left… and those who arrived.
All of them carry complaints in their hearts.
Hatred, perhaps…’
He opened his eyes.
“But… even a crawling child is brimming with an aura of hatred…”
His gaze fell to his hands.
He raised them slowly.
“This hatred… buried deep within them.
Hatred directed toward someone…
How can a single person gather so much hatred?
How can even a child feel this way toward someone?”
His hands began to blur, turning illusory.
“Why do they hate me?”
His eyes reddened.
“Why did I do that?”
Moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes.
“How can I atone for the sins I’ve committed?”
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
Then, lifting his head skyward, he shouted—
“Why are you doing this to me?
Who are you?
What is this place?
Am I dead?
Or am I alive?”
But…
Who was he asking?
Different voices. Different judgments.
Zalchys heard none of them.
Because once again, he chose not to.
This time, he treated everyone around him as though they didn’t truly exist.
An illusion.
One made solely for him.
But…
By whom?
And…
For what?
That was what he was asking.
Yet even he didn’t know to whom.
Still…
He asked.
Because he believed he had the right to know.
Because he had begun to doubt his own existence.
Because he was standing on the verge of—
…
The unknown battlefield.
At its very center.
Within an isolated domain.
The older Zalchys—who had stood atop the gargantuan seven-headed black dragon ever since the young Zalchys’s image appeared in the sky, let out a low laugh.
“The right time is just around the corner. Am I to give up now?
Heh.
Not even in my worst nightmare!”
He lifted his left hand in the air and—
Drew a golden pattern in the invisible canvas before him with his left index.
…
Before the
Zalchys only felt his heart becoming warmer for a moment.
He waited still.
Yet no answer came.
He shut his eyes.
He gave up.
Yes.
He gave up.
He gave up—
on forcing the truth.
When he opened his eyes again, they were sharper and clearer.
His ember eyes shone in a strange light as resolve settled into his gaze.
“No matter the cause… I have nothing to fear.”
He smiled mysteriously.
“Since I’m already here…
why don’t I visit my dear?”
His eyes drifted toward the distant Cinnabar Palace.
He purchased a bouquet of Blood Lilies from a nearby florist and continued walking.
But this time, something was different.
His whole demeanor had changed.
This time, Zalchys heard them all and couldn't help but smile wryly inside.
…
At the border of Cinderfall and Nysia.
Inside the roadside restaurant.
The cashier was tallying the day’s earnings when,
“…Huh? These are gold coins!”
He laughed.
“Looks like some rich fool was showing off!”
Then he paused.
Taking a closer look at the coins, he noticed a single word carved into each one.
Frowning, he arranged them instinctively and read aloud—