IOWYC Chapter 102

Chapter 102

I stared in shock at the hand gripping my wrist.

He’s asking me… for help?

Kallian’s blurred gaze looked as if he didn’t recognize me at all.

Narrowing my eyes, I examined him closely. Blood was trickling from the side of his head.

His once-clear eyes were dull and unfocused—he truly might not know who I was.

Just as I was studying him in disbelief, Kallian forced out a cracked, trembling voice.

“P… please… help… me…”

His fingers tightened around my wrist, refusing to let go.

His hand was ice-cold to the touch. His pale face and faint, fading breaths made it clear he was at death’s door.

Snapping back to my senses, I shook my head.

No matter how pitiful he looked, this wasn’t the time to hesitate.

If he really didn’t remember me, it might only be temporary—so I had to leave this place immediately, taking Denian with me.

Then I heard Denian’s small voice.

“Mommy?”

Startled, I quickly pulled my hand from Kallian’s grip and stood up.

I opened my mouth quickly to stop Denian from coming any closer.

“Denian! Stay right there!”

At the sound of that name, Kallian’s eyebrows twitched faintly.

I turned my back to him, pretending not to notice.

His pale face and shallow breathing bothered me, but I forced myself to ignore them.

It’s better to bring someone else here to help him.

There was no reason for me to do it myself—especially not with Denian nearby.

I hurriedly stepped away as if to flee, but his weak, breaking voice stopped me in my tracks.

“I… want to live…”

My steps froze.

Slowly, I turned back toward him.

He was on the brink of death—his life flickering like a candle about to go out.

His eyes, unfocused and lost, searched the air blankly.

He wants to live?

It was hard to believe that such words had come from this man—the same man who had once seemed unshakable, powerful enough to devour the world itself.

Now, he looked so small. So fragile.

Before I realized it, my hands had curled into fists.

After a long hesitation, I turned back and walked toward him.

Sliding my arm beneath his shoulders as he swayed, I spoke firmly.

“If you really want to live, then stay conscious.”

Maybe he understood me, because somehow, through sheer willpower, Kallian forced himself to rise with my help.

He was heavier than I remembered—his full weight pressed against me as I slowly carried him step by step toward the cottage.

Behind us, Denian followed nervously, fidgeting and glancing at us.

Inside the Imperial Palace of Pavelup — Audience Hall

Emperor Alexandro de Pavelup, the sixteenth emperor of the Pavelup Empire, regarded Lloyd with a leisurely smile.

“You’ve worked hard, Sir Lloyd.”

Lloyd bowed deeply.

“I’m honored to be of service to Your Majesty.”

Using the knowledge of his past life, Lloyd had skillfully built the emperor’s trust.

The royal family of Pavelup—known as the bearers of the Holy Spirit—though not as powerful as Heister, was one of the few noble lines that deeply distrusted Valdormer’s dark power.

To protect Yuliana from Valdormer, Lloyd needed the royal family’s influence as a shield.

Even Valdormer wouldn’t dare act recklessly against the emperor.

And yet, deep in his chest, unease still lingered.

He could never erase the memory of Kallian and Yuliana’s previous life.

The image of Kallian, pierced through the heart by Lloyd’s sword yet still refusing to let go of Yuliana’s body, haunted him vividly.

Lloyd clenched his sweating fist.

It’s still not enough.

If he wanted to keep Yuliana from Valdormer forever, he needed even greater power.

While he was lost in thought, the emperor spoke casually.

“How is life in the manor I gifted you?”

Lloyd snapped back to attention and bowed his head again.

“I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s generosity.”

The emperor stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“I’ve heard that the daughter of Heister is living there with you.”

Lloyd had expected this topic would eventually reach the emperor’s ears—it was, after all, the manor the emperor himself had bestowed.

Keeping his expression calm, Lloyd replied smoothly, “That’s correct.”

The emperor mused aloud,

“Yuliana de Heister—the woman who was practically taken to Valdormer as a hostage bride.”

A knowing smile spread across the emperor’s lips.

“In a way, this current war between Valdormer and Heister might have started because of her. That marriage—the symbol of peace—fell apart, after all.”

Lloyd kept his voice polite and measured.

“It can’t be just because of one woman, Your Majesty. The rift between Valdormer and Heister has been deep for generations.”

“True,” the emperor said, stroking his chin. “But I also heard that woman brought a child with her to the manor…”

At that, tension flickered through Lloyd’s body. His fingertips curled slightly.

The emperor’s next question carried a subtle weight.

“I assumed the child was of Valdormer blood… but they say he looks quite a bit like you. Is he your son?”

Lloyd hesitated for a brief moment.

He decided there was no reason to tell the truth. Something instinctive warned him not to.

After gathering his thoughts, he answered evenly, “Yes. He’s my son.”

“I see…” The emperor stroked his chin again, lost in thought.

Then his face brightened with an amiable smile.

“I’d like to meet your wife someday. Perhaps invite her to the imperial palace.”

His tone was friendly, but Lloyd felt cornered.

“She… doesn’t like to attend public events,” he said carefully.

The emperor’s smile stiffened ever so slightly. Noticing it, Lloyd quickly added with a respectful bow,

“But… I’ll arrange it. If it’s Your Majesty’s invitation, I’m sure she’ll be honored to come.”

The emperor laughed heartily.

“Excellent! Then I’ll host a grand banquet soon. Make sure she attends.”

“…As you command.”

Satisfied, the emperor leaned back with a grin. Then, as if remembering something, he added,

“Oh, by the way—you might not have heard yet. There’s word of a temporary ceasefire between Valdormer and Heister.”

“A ceasefire…?” Lloyd repeated, surprised.

The emperor smirked and finished,

“Yes. It seems that the great Valdormer heir who led their army has gone missing.”

For two full days, Kallian had lain unconscious.

Now, his heavy eyelids fluttered open.

Through his blurred vision, he saw a small boy watching him curiously from a distance.

The child had delicate features, white hair like snow, and eyes the color of a burning sunset.

Kallian stared, dazed, unable to look away.

Then the boy suddenly turned his head and shouted,

“Mommy! The mister woke up!”

A woman hurried over and quickly pulled the boy—Denian—behind her.

Kallian followed her with his weak gaze.

Her face… the same red eyes, the same features. She was clearly the child’s mother.

He looked around in confusion.

The inside of the small, shabby cottage was completely unfamiliar.

In fact, when he tried to recall anything—his home, his name, his past—nothing came.

All he could faintly remember was endless battle—cutting and slashing, surrounded by hellish screams.

“Ugh…!”

The more he tried to think, the sharper the pain in his head grew. He clutched it, groaning.

The woman—Yuliana—watched him cautiously and spoke in a careful voice.

“Do you… recognize me?”

Still gasping for breath, Kallian frowned and struggled to meet her eyes.

He wasn’t sure whether she was asking because she was worried, or because they already knew each other.

“I… are you… the one who helped me?” he asked weakly.

“…”

Her expression turned complicated.

Seeing that, Kallian wondered if he’d said something wrong and quickly added,

“Do you… know me? I’m sorry… I can’t remember anything right now.”

Her confused gaze softened slightly. Then, after a brief pause, Yuliana spoke calmly.

“No. We don’t know each other.”

Her voice was steady, but something in her face looked both sorrowful and—perhaps—relieved.

Kallian could only stare quietly at her, unable to understand why.