TEWRIT 28

Episode 28

Heraith was furious. “Why didn’t you tell Bianteca about something so important? If you had, I wouldn’t have brought the delegation with me!”

That was the first time he saw Flint truly enraged.

— “Has my homeland ever, even once, cared about Howard, a hostage tied to Zacador?”

Because of a tragedy in the previous generation, Heraith and Flint were never meant to get along. As if to prove that, Flint’s subordinates were treated Heraith disrespectfully. Being the Crown Prince of Bianteca was more a curse than an honor among them. Heraith felt like his world was breaking apart.

If Flint’s men hadn’t been so loyal to their lord, Heraith might not have died at Zakador’s hands—but at theirs. He didn’t know it, but some of them had even suggested to Flint, “If the Crown Prince shows up, let’s kill him ourselves.”

— “Emperor Alexander surely remembers the great Maximilian’s reputation. That’s why he welcomed Flint, his only son, when he turned his back on Bianteca. Why else would the treasury of Zacador suddenly send funds to Lynxgen? The payments had stopped ever since Maximilian and Lady Agnes passed away.”

Flint’s men were once knights who had served Maximilian and Agnes, or were their children. Living as a hostage, abandoned by his homeland in enemy territory, Flint’s loyalty to Bianteca had long been worn away.

— “Let’s face the truth. Bianteca abandoned us. They sent Lord Maximilian as a hostage to start with, and left Flint—his only heir—behind as well.”

Some wondered about Flint’s true thoughts.

Why did you train so harshly with the sword? Why did you read so many books? Was it really just to survive?

His men wanted to understand him, and constantly pushed him forward.

— “Lord Flint, this is a test from Emperor Alexander. Why else would he call the Crown Prince to Lynxgen? It’s a chance to get revenge on your enemies. Just give the order—we’ll follow anything you say.”

Some even begged him to order the Crown Prince’s death, mentioning his dead parents. Maximilian Howard and Agnes had died without ever returning home. The Biantecan Emperor who sent them to their deaths was no better than an enemy. And now, that man’s son was in Lynxgen. It was the perfect chance sent from heaven!

— “Remember, our real enemy is not Bianteca, but Zacador. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear what you just said.”

By declaring Zacador the true enemy, Flint protected the Crown Prince. Though unhappy, his subordinates respected his loyalty and guarded the prince. But when danger came, they always protected Flint first. Heraith had to learn how to protect himself.

In the struggle to survive, the Crown Prince’s political instincts began to awaken. Less than a year later, he realized the truth when he heard that Bianteca had held a state funeral for a “dead” prince and already chosen a new heir.

— “Listen carefully, my friends. I’m going to drag this war out for a long time. If I go back now, I’ll die. I have to return in triumph. In return, I promise you and Flint the title and honor of being the Crown Prince’s saviors. I swear it on my blood—I’ll give back everything you lost.”

Then, masked warriors in black robes began interfering in the war between Bianteca and Zacador. Their identities completely hidden, they only attacked Zacador forces.

At first, no one noticed them. But as the war dragged on, they proved their strength. When Bianteca was on the verge of collapse, they would appear and turn the tide.

Sometimes, they wore white masks and robes, helping Zacador instead. Other times, they split into two groups and showed up on both sides at once.

People began calling them the Black Sword Corps and the White Sword Corps. No one knew they were actually the same group.

— “We have to stall this war. Who’s winning right now? Good. Adele, rescue the prisoners. Flint and I will burn the enemy’s food supplies. The rest of you—save our citizens. If Zacador soldiers go too far, don’t even spare the Biantecans helping them.”

The Black Sword Corps became heroes through stories of saving civilians. They showed up out of nowhere, east and west, like ghosts.

But no matter how hard they tried, the difference in military power couldn’t be closed.

As the war tipped in Zacador’s favor, they even sent their Minister of War—Restyl Balthheim, a legendary general across the continent.

Flint Howard killed Restyl Balthheim.

At that moment, Heraith Bianteca threw off his mask, revealing the bright blonde hair and vivid blue eyes of royalty. Holding up the enemy’s severed head instead of Flint, he announced his survival to the world.

The Crown Prince, thought to be dead, had returned—and it turned the war around. Bianteca’s morale soared. Emperor Leopold gave command of the army to his son.Heraith led a great victory against Zacador and returned home a war hero, finally welcomed in glory. Stories of the Black Sword Corps’ bravery spread through the empire, and people cheered their name to the sky.

Flint Howard quietly stood beside him, saying everything was thanks to the Crown Prince’s insight.

— “Father, Duke Howard is the one who saved my life. It was Flint who actually killed Restyl Balthheim. …We’ve gone through life and death together. He’s my closest friend, and I’d like him at the victory parade. I ask you to officially recognize him as Duke Howard. I want him by my side forever, helping shape the future. Please grant this.”

Heraith kept his promise to Flint and rewarded his loyalty and friendship.

Emperor Leopold warmly welcomed the new Duke Howard. He officially announced that Flint would inherit control of the north and granted him more land and wealth.

He even hinted at honoring Flint’s grandfather, who had died before the Emperor’s coronation, saying, “Let’s do it properly at the right time.” Everyone understood what he meant.

— “Duke Howard, your loyalty in protecting the Crown Prince and your martial skill from your late father—use them to protect the Empire. I trust you.”

The new Duke Howard became a hero in his own right, fighting in many wars across the continent under imperial command. Emperor Leopold had found a useful role for the potentially dangerous young Duke.

Even though he rose to power, Flint often ended up stuck in the northern region. The Emperor would laugh, “You’re just like Maximilian,” and it was usually the Crown Prince who brought Flint back to the capital.

One day, as they drank together, Heraith asked:

“Flint, are you heading back north again?”

“That’s where I belong.”

“My father’s a bit sad about it. Stay a little longer. I’ve got no one else I trust as much. I’m lonely.”

Flint let out a small laugh.

“The ladies in the capital can’t compare to those in the north, huh? Be honest—do you have someone hidden up there? If her status is a problem, I can…”

“Status doesn’t matter to me.”

Flint’s blunt answer made Hereis groan.

“The ladies can’t even touch your heart. How sad.”

Heraith had tried setting him up with women multiple times—always pretending it was a coincidence. But none of them even caught Flint’s interest for a second.

“You’re the one who should marry soon, Your Highness. It’s not right to keep a lady waiting.”

Just then, a voice came from behind.

“Count Evans! It’s been too long!”

It was Count Adele Evans, who came in with a knock, placing a stack of papers on Flint’s desk. She had short, damp brown hair and had earned her noble title through heroic deeds in the Black Sword Corps.

“Lord Flint, the Sharai are oddly quiet. Have they given up on the north and turned their attention to Zacador or somewhere else? Still, it might be good to reinforce the borders, just in case.”

The nomadic Sharai were always looking for land, and Bianteca’s north was a frequent target. But Flint Howard had never lost to them.

“That silence… is strange,” Flint murmured.

“Thanks to that, the north is peaceful—except the weather’s gotten much colder.”

As Adele continued reporting, she suddenly turned to Hereis.

“Stop teasing our lord and get yourself married, Your Highness.”

Heraith chuckled. “Adele, why don’t you marry Flint yourself?”

“You’ve finally lost it.”

Adele shook her head firmly. Heraith seemed to have forgotten how she once almost kicked him for joking about Black Sword Corps women becoming duchesses.

“You’re ambitious. Being a duchess should be a great honor, right? Better than being a countess…”

“Your Highness, my ambition is to elope with a young, innocent pretty boy.”

“…That’s a shallow ambition. You should dream bigger.”

He clicked his tongue as she shrugged.

“Any cute boys in the north? I’d treat them so well.”

“What about the one you’re dating now? He’ll cry.”

Heraith remembered a pretty boy with light green hair Adele had clung to. He’d even wondered if she was dating a minor, until the boy yelled, “I’m an adult!” and he had to call him a young man instead.

“I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“What? What about that guy who shouted he was of age?”

“Oh, you mean the boy Veronica introduced me to? That’s old news. Gossip moves slow around here. You’re out of touch, Your Highness.”

Adele was quietly known for going through men fast. She winked and said she dumped him because he wasn’t impressive. Heraith wisely didn’t ask what she meant—but Adele licked her lips and said:

“He was taking pills for impotence. I got scammed.”

“Please, Adele. That’s too much information. I don’t need to know about your… situations.”

“That wasn’t my situation. That was Alex’s.”

Heraith looked horrified. Flint, meanwhile, clearly pretended not to hear, eyes locked on the paperwork.

“Some boys are asking where to get those pills. You don’t need any, right, Your Highness? For the future of the Empire, that’s a relief…”

“Adele, what do you think about the rumor that the Sharai found a new place to settle?” Flint asked.

Adele quickly straightened up and answered seriously. Seeing her switch tones, Heraith quietly slipped out of the office. If he stayed, he’d be dragged into more of Adele’s love stories—and he really didn’t want that.

Once he was gone, Adele sat on the sofa.

“Lord Flint, what if His Majesty starts matchmaking personally?”

“If you’re here to talk about marriage, leave. Don’t make me kick you out.”

Adele giggled and kept going.

“Just get engaged to some noble lady. All you need is the family seal in your hands. After you get what you want, break off the engagement.”

It wasn’t just nagging—more of a practical suggestion.

She was the same woman who once advised Flint to kill the Crown Prince. She had the courage to say what no one else could.

“What about the lady I break off the engagement with?”

Adele’s voice turned cold.

“That’s for her to deal with. If she ends up as the almost-duchess, she should’ve expected that much. Do you know how much she’d still gain?”