"Kael, tell me." Reinhardt's voice was steady, but beneath the calm tone lay urgency, even desperation. His emerald eyes fixed on Kael, searching for cracks in his silence. "I will use anything—do anything—to help you, if you only tell me the truth."
Kael's fingers curled around the hilt of the sword resting across his lap. His grip trembled. The weight of it wasn't only physical—it carried memories, voices, and shadows he had yet to understand. He shut his eyes, as if the darkness behind his lids could give him strength.
Finally, his lips parted. His voice was faint, barely louder than a whisper.
"I met the dragon… a long time ago. When I was a child."
Reinhardt's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" His tone sharpened, disbelief written all over his face. "I knew you since we were children—long before the prophecy named you Hero at ten. You never set foot in Delcra before that and—" His words halted. His brows furrowed as something surfaced in his memory.
Kael opened his eyes, quietly watching Reinhardt's reaction. The tension between them was palpable.
Reinhardt's expression darkened, unreadable. He pressed further, his voice lower. "Can you be clear—where did you meet the dragon?"
Kael's answer was slow, cautious, as if testing the weight of each word.
"I don't remember where… but in the dream it was in a forest. And… I remember the dragon's side was injured at that time."
Reinhardt froze. His gaze turned inward, rummaging through the past. Then, after several long seconds, his shoulders loosened with realization. "…I see."
Kael tilted his head slightly, silently questioning him with his eyes. What had Reinhardt understood?
Reinhardt let out a slow breath and leaned closer. "Your orphanage was at the border between the East and West gates. When I think about it, you could have set foot on Delcra's land even before you knew me." His words were calm, calculated, as though piecing together a puzzle only he understood. Then he straightened, fixing Kael with a steady gaze. "Is that all?"
Kael's fingers tightened on the hilt. His next words slipped out almost like a confession.
"Did I ever hesitate to kill the dragon?"
Reinhardt's brows drew together. He tapped his chin, recalling. "…No. You never hesitated. But you did say we needed to hurry—to save the people in the city. You didn't say anything else."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as if the memory sharpened. "But I do remember this—you insisted that you would finish the dragon alone. You told us to step back. So we let you deal the final blow." Reinhardt's voice grew heavier, lined with suspicion. "At that time, I didn't sense hesitation in your words or your movements."
Silence filled the room, thick and stifling.
Reinhardt leaned back, his eyes never leaving Kael. Then, after a beat, he chuckled bitterly. "It seems you've always had a talent for hiding things from me, Kael. Even before you lost your memory." He smiled, but the smile was thin, strained—an echo of something wounded.
Kael lowered his gaze to the sword across his lap. He placed his hand firmly on the hilt, as though trying to anchor himself. Slowly, he spoke again.
"And one more… The dragon said, this is his gift to me."
He extended the blade to Reinhardt.
Reinhardt's lips parted in surprise. He stared at the sword before taking it carefully into his hands. His fingers traced the metal, his expression shifting. "…Yes. You once told us it was a gift. But you never said who gave it to you. I assumed it was the previous king."
The word king left his mouth like poison. His voice laced with hatred, his eyes glinting with something Kael could not place. Kael sensed it immediately but chose silence, letting Reinhardt continue.
"That's why," Reinhardt went on, his voice quieter now, "I could never understand why you destroyed your sword and shattered it into fragments after you defeated the Demon King." He exhaled, his shoulders heavy with memory. "You had so much use for this sword. It helped you more than we realized—except for the curse it left in your body."
His mask cracked, just for a moment. The sharp emperor melted into something more human, something vulnerable. Reinhardt's voice trembled as he went on. "When you collapsed and fell into that long coma, I thought—if you only touched the fragments, if you only got near them—you would wake. That they would save you. But they didn't."
His eyes darkened. Pain flickered across his face, the memory of helplessness still raw. Kael recognized it—the guilt, the sorrow that Reinhardt tried so hard to bury. He had seen it once before in his dreams.
The silence between them shifted, no longer suffocating but heavy with unspoken truth.
"For now," Reinhardt said at last, his voice quieter, almost pleading, "you need to rest. Properly. I sent you here to heal, not to collapse again." His hands gripped the sword tightly before setting it back on Kael's lap. "I know something changes in you each time you touch the fragments. But I can't… I won't let anything happen to you again."
He leaned closer, his eyes locking with Kael's. For the first time, his words carried no authority, no imperial weight—only sincerity. "And I cannot stay here for long. Duties call me back. But before I leave… I will help you find the last fragment. That much, I swear."
Kael studied him quietly. He didn't need words—he could read the truth in Reinhardt's eyes.
And for the first time since waking, Kael allowed himself to breathe easier.
-----------------------------------------
The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the fireplace and the gentle flicker of candles. After Robert carefully handed Kael a potion and ensured he had eaten a proper meal, his body—still fragile after sleeping for two weeks—succumbed quickly to slumber. His breathing became calm, his pale face softened, and soon he drifted into peaceful rest.
The three of them—Reinhardt, Elric, and Robert—moved away from the bedside and settled near the fireplace, their voices kept low so as not to disturb him. The warmth of the fire contrasted with the heavy tension that clung to their gathering.
Robert broke the silence first. "The doctor said he must not be pushed. His body needs time to recover. For now, rest is the best cure." He glanced at Kael, concern still carved into his young face.
Reinhardt leaned against the armrest of his chair, his golden hair catching faint glimmers of firelight. His gaze never strayed from Kael's sleeping figure.
Then Elric's sharp voice cut through the quiet. "What did he say to you?" Her eyes narrowed at Reinhardt, her posture stiff and guarded.
Reinhardt finally turned to her, the corner of his lips curling upward into a sly smile. He tilted his head, crossing his arms casually. "Of how you tried to seduce him in his dream," he teased, his tone deliberately light.
Elric's expression darkened instantly, her sapphire eyes flashing. She glared at him with enough venom to kill. Robert, caught between them, swallowed hard.
Reinhardt chuckled softly, the sound echoing with mischief. But the laughter did not last long. His face grew serious, and his voice dropped into gravity. "As I predicted, the sword truly helped him. He regained a fragment of his memory."
Elric and Robert's eyes widened at his words, their faces brightening with sudden hope.
"Then… he remembers—" Elric began, her voice trembling with restrained excitement.
But Reinhardt cut her off sharply. "It's not as simple as you think." He shook his head. "He remembers only parts of it. Fragments. Not the whole picture."
Both Elric and Robert fell silent, their anticipation fading into unease.
Reinhardt's gaze softened slightly as he looked back at Kael, who lay peacefully beneath the blankets. His words came heavy, tinged with something like regret. "One of the reasons his body weakened was because those memories returned. But they came at a cost—his well-being. Perhaps it's the Demon King's lingering curse that prevents him from regaining them peacefully. That is the only conclusion I can draw for now."
The room fell into silence for a moment, the fire crackling faintly. Reinhardt's eyes glimmered with something unsaid—guilt, sorrow, or perhaps both.
"That's why I sent him here," Reinhardt continued at last, his tone firm, carrying the authority of an emperor. "To gather the sword fragments. They are the key to stabilizing him, to protecting him from further decline."
Robert leaned forward, listening intently.
Reinhardt turned to him, his expression grave. "Keep a close watch over his condition as always. But more than that—keep him out of danger. The Demon Cult is still hunting him. They will not stop until he is broken."
Robert nodded firmly. "I understand. I won't fail him."
Then Reinhardt's sharp emerald eyes shifted to Elric. "And you. Did you receive a letter from Teodore?"
Elric blinked, then straightened. "You mean Lord Valdran? Yes. He intends to pay a visit to my mansion," she answered cautiously.
Reinhardt's lips tightened, his tone carrying the weight of command. "You cannot return to Vaelthorn yet. Not until Kael retrieves all of the fragments. The Demon Cult is relentless, and I do not trust the Delcra guards alone to protect him. Even with Robert here, it won't be enough." His voice dropped, softer but laced with worry. "If they find him again, if they sense weakness, they will strike."
Elric frowned, her brows knitting together. "And what of you? You speak as if you'll leave us behind."
Reinhardt exhaled, the firelight dancing in his emerald eyes. "I cannot stay here for long. My presence in Delcra is in secret. If the court discovers I left the capital without word, it will raise questions. Dangerous ones."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the armrest, though his eyes never strayed from Kael's still form. His thoughts lingered on what Kael had told him—the dragon, the fragments, the strange words Kael could no longer explain.
He hid something from me, Reinhardt mused silently, his jaw tightening. Even before his memories vanished, he kept secrets. Why?
He closed his eyes briefly, suppressing the storm within him. He could not push Kael now—not when his body was still fragile, not when the curse still gnawed at him from within.
Reinhardt's voice, when it came again, was low, almost to himself. "I will remain until the final fragment is found. After that…" He trailed off, leaving the words unfinished.
Robert and Elric exchanged glances but said nothing.
The fire crackled on, casting long shadows across the chamber. Reinhardt's thoughts circled endlessly around Kael—his silence, his dreams, the fragments of memory that bled into his present. The dragon. The gift. The sword that consumed the curse.
And most of all, the gnawing truth Reinhardt could no longer deny.
Kael was changing. And whether it would save him—or destroy him—remained uncertain.