Chapter 7
Dawn of the day before his coming-of-age ceremony.
Ordinarily, Yuwon would have been sweating in the training grounds by now, but this morning he still remained in his bedchamber.
Unlike his usual light and casual attire, his neatly dressed appearance felt strangely out of place.
‘It should be about time now….’
Knock, knock, knock—
As though he had been waiting for it, the sound of knocking came.
“Your Highness….”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
Marcellus blinked, his narrow eyes going wide.
“Eh? But I haven’t even finished speaking yet—how did you know where you were going?”
“Isn’t His Majesty looking for me?”
Correct. Marcellus went speechless as if he had swallowed honey.
Early that morning, Yuwon visited the main palace to pay an audience to the Emperor.
Today’s meeting place was not the grand audience hall, but the Emperor’s private office.
No lavish guards were in sight.
“Has Your Majesty been in good health?”
“How long has it even been since we last met that you ask such a thing… Well, what brings you to me this time?”
“How could one who lives by Your Majesty’s grace need a reason to behold your august face? If I must find a reason, then my very life itself is reason enough.”
Yuwon greeted him with a bright smile as shameless as the words that came from his mouth.
“You said you’d live like a snake, and you certainly know how to pick words that sound good. But surely you didn’t come to your father just to say such things? If so, I’m afraid I no longer have time to spare.”
‘Impatient old man.’
Receiving such a cold reception, Yuwon skipped the preamble and went straight to the point.
“I beg your pardon. As Your Majesty said, there is indeed another reason I came today.”
“Another reason, is there? Well, that’s a relief. And what reason is that?”
Only then did the Emperor’s indifferent expression shift to one of mild curiosity.
“Tomorrow evening, on the last day of the lunar month of March, I wish to hold my coming-of-age ceremony.”
“You? Hold a coming-of-age ceremony?”
The Emperor’s face showed a flicker of surprise.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I humbly beg your permission.”
“…That is a right naturally granted to those born of imperial blood. It is a law established not by me, but by the founding Emperor himself. It is not something that requires my permission.”
Yuwon smiled faintly and bowed his head.
“Then I shall take that as consent and proceed as planned…”
“However, I do not permit it.”
The answer cut coldly through his words.
“The disgrace you’ve brought upon the imperial name is already more than enough. And yet you claim to hold your coming-of-age ceremony without proper qualification? I will no longer stand idly by while you trample upon the name of the royal house.”
‘As expected, it won’t be so easy.’
Yuwon had already experienced the Emperor’s fickle temper during their first meeting. He remained composed and replied calmly.
“May I ask, what is this ‘qualification’ Your Majesty speaks of?”
At that, the Emperor frowned in silence.
The air in the office seemed to freeze under his sharp, chilling presence.
“There is nowhere written that one must awaken magical power to undergo the imperial coming-of-age ceremony. All that is required is the bloodline of the royal house. Moreover, Your Majesty yourself has just said, ‘It is a right naturally granted to those of imperial blood.’ Have I spoken falsely?”
Had it been written, the words would have flown from the brush in one stroke. Yuwon’s words and logic were perfectly steady. He stood unflinching before the Emperor.
“…So what is it that you are trying to say?”
As Yuwon expected, the Emperor’s anger eased somewhat. Indeed, before the Emperor, it was always best to speak one’s mind, even at the risk of one’s life.
“I am saying that I have already fulfilled the qualification.”
“Indeed, if the blood flowing through your veins counts as qualification, then you have it in abundance. Even when you spent your days as a scoundrel, they honored the blood of the White Lion House enough to call you the ‘White Dog’. Quite fitting, isn’t it?”
Yuwon kept a silence as heavy as gold.
‘That wasn’t a question.’
He could tell the Emperor still had more to say. After a brief pause, the Emperor continued.
“…And are you truly confident enough to raise your head before me and speak so boldly? It’s one thing to wag that serpent’s tongue of yours, but you won’t be able to handle the coming-of-age ceremony with words alone.”
‘To his own son, he first called me a White Dog, and now a serpent-tongued wretch… there’s nothing this old man won’t say.’
Yuwon clicked his tongue inwardly, though his expression and words outwardly remained completely different.
“The affairs of the world are such that no one can know the result before trying, are they not?”
“Hm….”
Yuwon’s confident reply gave the Emperor pause. Seeing his hesitation, Yuwon pressed further.
“In the White Lion House of Aphahiel, there was once a young prince born with black hair, mocked for being unlike his lineage. Even his mother, the daughter of a fallen noble house, could offer him no protection.”
A glint flashed in the Emperor’s eyes. He knew well who the protagonist of this story was.
“At that time, no one believed that the powerless young prince with black hair would ever become the next Emperor. Yet… the result was different.”
Yuwon lifted his head and met the Emperor’s gaze.
The Emperor’s eyes, deep blue like the abyss, clashed midair with Yuwon’s cold, sea-blue ones.
“The Seventh Emperor of the Empire. The Iron-Blooded Monarch, the Black Lion—Yulaios Aphahiel.”
His voice was calm, yet filled with strength.
“You, of all people, understand better than anyone that one cannot know the result until they try. Do you not, Father?”
Yuwon’s decisive move.
An awkward silence filled the Emperor’s study.
The Emperor broke it at last.
“…This will be the last. The very last. Since you seem to have felt something and wish to show a different side of yourself, I shall grant you one final chance. However.”
‘However?’
“If you fail to be chosen by the Guardian Sword, you are to marry early and establish a household. It would be ideal if your bride were a daughter of the Valaris family, though given what you’ve done, that may prove difficult.”
That condition was hardly a burden.
Yuwon readily accepted it.
“Understood. If I fail to receive the sword’s recognition, I shall accept a betrothal with a house of Your Majesty’s choosing. However.”
Of course, if one gives, one must also take.
“If I win this ‘wager,’ then please grant me one wish. You may hear it and refuse if you deem it unreasonable. Since Your Majesty always stands firm like a mountain, there will surely be another time.”
Originally, the Emperor’s approval would have come only after imposing strict conditions—but with Yuwon’s reply, the situation shifted into an equal wager between the two.
Moreover, Yuwon made it clear that even if the Emperor refused the wish, it would not count as fulfilled.
There was a blade hidden within his words.
“Ha, you dare make a wager with me?”
The Emperor laughed, amused by Yuwon’s boldness.
“Since Your Majesty set the terms, I thought I might as well place a small stake of my own. Please regard it as a trivial diversion, nothing more than a bit of amusement.”
Audacious, even insolent—but rather than being offended, the Emperor found himself oddly pleased by Yuwon’s shrewdness, his instinct to seize benefit without loss.
‘Now you finally seem like my son.’
The smile the Emperor wore then was not one of disdain.
“Very well. If I lose this wager, I shall grant you one wish.”
It was the Emperor’s own pride—the belief that no one knew his son better than himself—that led him straight onto Yuwon’s game board.
If the Emperor had insisted here, Yuwon would have pretended to yield and taken a step back.
After all, the condition the Emperor had set wasn’t particularly unfair, and Yuwon himself was confident that he could complete the coming-of-age ceremony successfully.
It was a wager he had made on impulse, unwilling to take a loss, and the Emperor, pleased by the suggestion, had accepted it—without realizing it was a wager he could never win.
It was a clear mistake on the Emperor’s part.
‘A blessing in disguise, they say. Things are turning out better than I thought. To think I’ve managed to make the Emperor owe me a debt.’
Rejoicing inwardly, Yuwon bowed once again.
“Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty.”
As he lowered his head, a crescent smile curved on Yuwon’s lips.
Thud—
Terrien closed the thick book he had been reading.
Within the Fifth Prince’s palace, inside the prince’s personal training hall.
He had been letting Yuwon repeat the basic three-sword forms on his own while attending to other matters, but now his brow furrowed in faint displeasure.
‘…Only a single day left until the coming-of-age ceremony.’
The ceremony was now almost upon them, arriving sooner than he’d realized—and because of that, Terrien’s mind was restless.
His head was so cluttered that he couldn’t even focus on the words in his book. Abandoning the attempt, he shook off his distractions and turned his gaze to the prince in training.
‘It’s strange that he’s been keeping up this well since the very first day… swinging that heavy iron club with such thin arms. Even knight apprentices complain about the drills with practice swords….’
At first, since it was a bothersome duty forced upon him, he’d intended to only pretend to teach properly.
But seeing the prince’s earnest dedication in training, he couldn’t bring himself to treat it lightly.
Over the past few days, watching Yuwon closely, Terrien had no choice but to admit—the prince had changed. He had become someone far better.
The prince was neither as quick with his fists as the rumors claimed, nor did he ever use the vulgar curses said to be his signature.
‘And the way he treats his subordinates….’
His every action carried the dignity befitting a prince. His graceful demeanor, coupled with his consideration for those below him, made him seem like a completely different person.
‘They said he was lost in addiction, yet he burned every last bit of the drug away himself… and even now, he’s out there under the scorching sun, swinging a sword and drenched in sweat—without a single word of complaint….’
Once, this very Fifth Prince had called Terrien—a man who had done him no wrong—“a bastard half-breed.” After that experience, it had been impossible for Terrien to see him kindly.
So, when he was assigned to train the prince, he had pulled a few petty tricks to make him suffer—but no matter how obviously he tried to run him ragged, the prince showed no anger and focused solely on his training.
‘There’s no way he didn’t notice what I was doing….’
Even now, while Terrien wrestled with his thoughts, Yuwon continued swinging his sword. His movements were sharp, clean—without any excess. Terrien muttered in quiet amazement.
“To think that’s the sword form of someone who’s only trained for four days….”
The prince’s teeth were clenched, his eyes sharp as he swung his sword—like a man trying to make up for years of wasted time through effort alone.
Having watched such dedication these past few days, Terrien could no longer deny it. The prince’s supposed amnesia was no lie, and the debauched wastrel he had once been was gone.
He truly was reborn, just as the attendants whispered.
‘He’s got perseverance—and talent. The form of the basic three-sword style already looks proper.’
In truth, it was more than proper. The strength (強) was already perfected; now he was beginning to add fluidity (柔). Terrien simply hadn’t realized it yet.
‘If only there were a little more time….’
At first, Terrien had thought that if the Fifth Prince embarrassed himself at the coming-of-age ceremony, it would have nothing to do with him. But now—it wasn’t like that anymore.
The image of the prince training so earnestly weighed heavily on his mind.
‘He can’t even sense magic, and yet he plans to attend the ceremony… He’ll walk in empty-handed and walk out the same.’
Sensing and controlling magical power was no simple task. For the ordinary, it took years; even for geniuses, at least one or two.
‘His effort is admirable… but it’s impossible.’
That he had managed to master the basic three-sword forms in such a short time was already remarkable. But the awakening of mana was an entirely different matter.
‘If I were truly a teacher… what choice would I make?’
That question marked the end of his inner debate. After an entire day of deliberation, Terrien made his decision.
‘I must stop the prince—no, His Highness. With this kind of effort, he could certainly complete the ceremony next year. But tomorrow… is far too soon.’
After long hesitation, there was no longer any reason to waver. Terrien rose abruptly to his feet and strode toward Yuwon.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes? What is it?”
At his call, Yuwon halted his sword mid-swing.
“Tomorrow… the coming-of-age ceremony. Must it truly be held tomorrow?”
“Why? Are you worried your disciple will embarrass his master?”
“…And if I said yes, would you take pity on my pride and relent?”
“No. I can’t do that.”
A firm reply, given without even a pause.
“As your teacher in name, could you not spare me one favor—lose just this once for my sake?”
“That discussion is over, Master.”
Yuwon gripped his training sword again. It was a gentle but unmistakable statement that the matter of the ceremony was settled.
“Very well. Since more words won’t change your mind, do as you wish. However…”
Terrien had never expected persuasion to work. Instead, he played his own hand.
“Before that, please grant me one spar. Just once.”
To face the coming-of-age ceremony without even mastering magic—it was nothing short of political suicide.
‘He’s finally come to his senses. With his effort and talent, I can already look forward to what he’ll be in a year, or two. But this year—no.’
Despite his outstanding talent, Terrien had once thrown aside his sword, burdened by the limits of his birth as an illegitimate son. He had lived nearly two years idly since.
Even he himself didn’t fully understand why he cared so much about this matter now. But still—his heart couldn’t ignore it.
Terrien didn’t want this reformed prince, his pupil, to become the first in imperial history to walk away from the ceremony in disgrace.
“Please, grant my request.”
In that moment, the man who had once been consumed by inner demons and cast away his sword—Terrien Calmodet—was nowhere to be found.
Before Yuwon stood the illegitimate son of Marquis Bredman, the man praised as the Imperial Sword, and once the only rival of the Second Prince.
The Illegitimate Sword—Terrien Calmodet—gripped once more the blade he had broken with his own hands.