The Holy Son

"You heard me right. I was worried your brother would kill Edward, so I came back." Raven shrugged, delivering earth-shattering words to Alexander. "...Edward truly is that kind of man. He always knows how to lead his men out of desperate situations... But while he possesses that talent and acts on it, he's always hated himself for it."

As his closest friend, and now facing the brother of Edward’s beloved, Raven dared not let Alexander misunderstand. He poured out his heart: "After each killing, Edward would lock himself in a pitch-black room—curtains drawn, never stepping outside. Once, unable to bear it, I climbed through the window to see what had happened. When I entered... I saw Edward cutting into his own skin and flesh with a dagger... He hadn't suffered that many wounds on the battlefield, yet his body was covered in scars—every inch below his neck marked by all kinds of wounds... It was incredibly dangerous; if not treated properly, the wounds could fester and kill him. But he did it so calmly, harming himself as if he felt no pain at all..."

Lavin, wrapped in silk, had never met such a silent, enigmatic peer before. He desperately wanted to befriend this mysterious boy, but the sight left him speechless for ages. By the time he snapped out of it and moved to stop him, the dark-haired beast snarled a furious "Get out!" that scared the living daylights out of him... Of course, Raven wouldn't recount such an embarrassing first encounter in full. He merely said with pity, "Edward... he loved your brother deeply. If he ever harmed your brother, he would have died before your brother did. So, don't worry."

Raven spoke calmly, yet Alexander remained speechless for a long time.

After a long moment, he wiped his face and muttered weakly, self-mockingly, "...I can't stop it anyway. But if it ever comes to that, I'll go down with him first."

Alexander spat out the words with venom, then defeatedly ran his fingers through his hair and bowed his head.

He had once believed he possessed the strength to stand against this arrogant duke, willing to stake his own life if necessary. Yet only now did Alexander truly grasp the vast chasm between his own power and that of the duke.

This kind of defeat was the most unbearable for a man, especially for him as an older brother who had always tried so hard to protect his younger sibling. This feeling of helplessness nearly drove Alexander mad. He didn't want Raven to see him break down, so he lowered his head, tears falling one by one onto the floor.

Having finished telling Edward's story, Raven's melancholy had lifted. To him, Alexander was worrying needlessly; the very thing he feared would never come to pass.

Thus, when he saw Alexander's bowed head, Raven failed to notice his anguish. Smiling, he firmly lifted Alexander's chin, forcing him to look up. "Enough of that gloomy talk," he said. "Quickly, change my bandages, Headmaster..."

But the words stuck in his throat.

What met his eyes were wet, emerald-green eyes.

This man—elegant, scholarly, and carrying a quiet strength—was now tear-streaked, his face suddenly exposed before Raven's eyes as he was abruptly jerked upward.

Raven was utterly flustered. Seeing Alexander's vulnerable, agonized expression, his heart seemed to stop.

Alexander hastily wiped his eyes. He knew he'd lost control. The recent situation, the impending departure for the New World—the pressure had been building endlessly for Alexander. Today, he'd finally cracked for a moment. Alexander refused to allow himself to remain vulnerable. He quickly composed his expression, cleared his throat, and said hoarsely, "My apologies for losing my composure. I'll change your dressing right now... What's wrong?"

Lavin snapped out of his daze, leaping abruptly from the table. "Nothing! Nothing at all! Hahaha, hurry up and change my dressing!"

"Keep your voice down, you're being noisy!" Alexander resumed his usual demeanor, gave the instructions, and proceeded to change the bandage. After finishing, he ran a hand over his own gleaming bald head and remarked with a faint smile, "It's growing back, your hair."

"Really? That's great!" Raven replied with a beaming smile.

With that, Raven stood up abruptly. Unlike his usual habit of muttering about the court quarrels, he sprang to his feet and strode out as if chased by a vicious dog.

Meanwhile, Tang Feiliu watched the supply team load the cart.

He had taken everything he could carry—clean new bandages and hemostatic herbs, disinfectant alcohol, and vital food and medicine. After the great retreat, everyone had begun fighting with their backs against the wall. Rumor had it that for the first time in the war, victory seemed within reach.

The imposing Templar Alliance, which had consistently dominated the coalition, suffered its first defeat—reportedly an ambush. Only upon receiving news of Edward's safety did Tang Feiliu's anxious heart finally relax completely.

He desperately wanted to rush to the front lines, but he understood that staying put and waiting quietly for Edward's return was the wisest course. Moreover, Tang Feiliu had a more pressing task: arranging for someone to notify Grandfather Dave to gather the essentials Edward must take with him. They would likely set out on their journey soon after Edward's return.

Tang Feiliu began arranging for letters to be written and instructed his brother to hasten packing their hometown belongings. After the brothers dispatched the correspondence, Tang Feiliu himself started sorting and packing items.

Purchasing a ship was something Tang Feiliu truly knew nothing about. He discussed it with Alexander and consulted Raven, but ultimately, only through Mr. Johnson's introduction could they begin inquiring with maritime merchants who had ships available for transfer.

Throughout this process, Ivans remained by his side.

After learning of Ivan's true identity, Tang Feiliu naturally felt less at ease than before, even developing a hint of wariness—after all, his mother was Her Majesty Josephine, who had evidently summoned Ivan multiple times since his return to the imperial city. Though Tang Feiliu cherished Ivan as a friend, he had never revealed his plans to leave in front of him.

Yet the act of packing his belongings was impossible to conceal from Ivans, who was constantly coming and going in the house. Even though he could assign Ivans countless tasks daily, over time, Ivans sensed something was amiss. He asked Tang Feiliu, "You're packing? Why?"

Tang Feiliu felt a slight flicker of nervousness. Before he could answer, Ivans smiled and said, "Don't worry. Good news has arrived from the front. Under Lord Edward's unified command, our forces have gained the initiative."

Indeed, several victories had been reported from the front lines, and the advance was steady. While Retal's style had allowed him to forge ahead relentlessly in the early stages, rapidly consolidating power, once his unbroken streak of victories was shattered, his overly stubborn and self-willed nature began to grate on others. Gradually, consumed by rage, he was losing his rationality, making him far more susceptible to manipulation.

Now that the crisis had passed, Ivans assumed Tang Feiliu was packing to heed Edward's call and return to York. Tang Feiliu observed Ivans, noting her remarkably relaxed expression. The thought struck him: that a man like Edward could keep Ivans by his side, openly acknowledging their relationship—this proved Edward trusted her implicitly.

For reasons unknown, but evident nonetheless, Edward placed his trust in Ivans.

Tang Feiliu hesitated briefly before asking softly, "Ivance... have you been seeing His Majesty often lately?"

"Yes," Ivans replied after a moment's pause.

"...Will you agree to her request?" Clearly, Her Majesty now had no other heir. Given the Empress's age, health, and the absence of a consort at her side, it signified one thing: Ivans was her sole heir.

Having fought so hard to kill the Emperor, Josephine certainly wouldn't want to pass the throne to any of his relatives. But to Fran's brother? Or her brother's children? Josephine wouldn't want that either.

After all, Josephine and her brother had never been particularly close. Following the incident involving Ivan, they had scarcely interacted at all. It was only natural, then, that Josephine summoned the reluctant Ivan so frequently. She had clearly resolved to cultivate this sole remaining son—one who, while not outstanding, at least hadn't turned out badly.

Tang Feiliu observed that while Ivan’s enthusiasm wasn’t particularly fervent, he always attended Empress Josephine’s summons without fail. She found herself increasingly perplexed by his attitude.

Until he understood Ivan's true feelings, Tang Feiliu had no intention of revealing his overseas plans. It was for the best for everyone involved.

"I don't know." To Tang Feiliu's surprise, genuine bewilderment flickered across Ivan's face. He looked at Tang Feiliu and said, "...At first, I truly believed I felt nothing for her. I didn't care about her thoughts or her status..."

The ecstasy of seeing his mother after childhood abuse and the despair of abandonment had haunted him like shadows. That bone-deep pain and loneliness had entangled Ivaness for half his life. He had never opened the letters Her Majesty Josephine had begun sending him after he became an adult.

Ivans knew clearly that the woman might still harbor some maternal affection for him, but it would never outweigh the scheming and plots. Had he not been the only child to survive, he might have spent his entire life as a country-raised bastard.

Yet Ivan was not without pride. After the one time in his life when he wept uncontrollably and was dragged away, he gradually suppressed his longing for maternal affection.

Had Josephine suddenly relented back then, he might have thrown himself into her arms, sobbing. But once he had grown up and could fend for himself, those longings vanished entirely.

In their place, Ivanas developed new interests and ambitions—especially after meeting Lance.

Unlike His Lordship Edward's predatory fascination with Lance, Ivaness cherished this innocent blond boy. They shared a common passion—tending fields, learning to cultivate crops, mastering the art of growing more sustenance.

Having endured hunger during her childhood in the countryside, Ivans felt that all sentimental musings and emotions were empty talk until one's belly was full.

Having been consumed by hunger, Ivans was fascinated by everything Lance spoke of. Following him, he felt like a knight defending the Holy Child.

The Holy Child brought light and sustenance, cleanliness and medicine, irrigation and transportation... He transformed everything, and Ivan's ambition ignited. He realized what his most important dream truly was.

Ivans wanted... to accompany the Holy Son and witness this new era.

His words were disjointed and fragmented, yet Tang Feiliu understood.

Tang Feiliu looked at him and suddenly said, "...Ivans, my friend, perhaps you could do more than just watch all this unfold."

Ivans didn't grasp the meaning.

A surge of boldness and tenderness welled up in Tang Feiliu's chest. He smiled and said, "Nate is a remarkable nation. If you could attain greater authority... you could accelerate the transformation of all this."

The war had halted everything Tang Feiliu had envisioned. Deep down, he kept wondering: After he left, would anyone persist in transforming this nation? Would anyone continue spreading the seeds of civilization across the continent?

Tang Feiliu wanted more people to experience the dignity and decency civilization brought, to live warmly and safely.

But all this depended on his own survival. If he truly couldn't survive, Tang Feiliu would have no choice but to abandon his efforts midway. For he had a beloved, a family—he wasn't a solitary traveler, but the youngest son of the Doton family, the beloved of His Grace the Black Duke.

Yet, once he understood where Ivans' gaze was fixed, once he grasped the burning ambition within Ivans, Tang Feiliu was more than willing to offer him all his knowledge.

And Ivan looked upon his Holy Son, smiling amidst the radiant glow.

That was the last time Ivanes would see this wise, delicate figure—a man who would remain etched in his memory for the rest of his life.

Half a month after that conversation, the Dark Duke lay gravely wounded and near death. The ducal residence closed its doors to visitors. Three months later, the Dark Duke, now able to walk, met with the Queen. After their private talks, he received the Queen's handwritten decree, commanding him to establish Nart's territory overseas.

The next day, the fleet set sail. From a distant pier, Ivans watched that golden figure vanish aboard the largest ship.

The Black Duke took most of his trusted advisors with him, and he never saw his aunt again for the rest of his life.

Perhaps from the very moment they first met, it was destined that in this realm of two lions, only one could remain.

And this outcome, everyone knew, was already the best possible ending.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Tangyuan Nuonuo for the support.

I have work commitments this week and may not be able to update, but I'll make up for it over the weekend.

Though it may seem like the conclusion, there's still a bit of new territory plot to come, along with an extra chapter featuring the older brother.

That's all for now.