Turning Chapter 977
Imperial Guard Commander’s Office, within the Seventh Wall of the Capital.
The office, known to belong to the current Commander Theorado van Ta-in—infamous for his obsession with swords—was filled with glass cases housing a vast collection of blades. It looked less like a space for a man and more like a sanctuary built for the swords themselves.
Sitting among them, Theorado read a freshly arrived letter. It was a report from the Imperial Guardsmen he had dispatched to Sharloin.
“—We have arrived in Sharloin. To our shock, a massive disaster struck the Southern seas just two days before our arrival. However, the Cavalry led the recovery effort and successfully brought the situation under control...”
It was truly astonishing news.
No word of such an event had reached the capital yet—not even a whisper. The subtle expression on Theorado’s face wavered for the first time in a long while.
The letter described in detail the newly emerged disaster in the South and the almost mythical feats performed by those who faced it. Just reading it was enough to provoke disbelief. If the writer weren’t a serious, grounded knight known for being impartial toward the Cavalry, Theorado would have dismissed the report as exaggeration or even fiction.
Even the handwriting betrayed the writer’s shock. Normally refined and elegant as befit a noble, the script had become a frantic scrawl that scraped across the page.
“—Regardless, we have accepted the request from Sharloin’s lord and the First Princess of Hern to assist with the aftermath. Though the damage is surprisingly minor given the disaster’s scale—some might call it a miracle—there appears to be a severe shortage of personnel in charge of security and medical care. All members of the Guard are in awe at the Commander’s insight in sending us here at such a timely moment. We will send further reports as our work progresses.”
Three pages later, the report ended. Theorado folded the letter and stared at it for a long while before finally exhaling a deep sigh.
“...Truly unbelievable.”
Though the guards in Sharloin credited Theorado’s foresight, the decision to send them had not been entirely his own.
In his mind, he recalled the person who had first proposed the idea.
A few nights earlier—Kiole di Diarca, who had the gall to sneak over the walls and enter this very place.
“We need to send reinforcements to the South!”
That night, Theorado had returned to his office after sword training, only to find Kiole sitting there looking thoroughly disheveled. Of course, this was no proper visit. Kiole wore not his uniform but casual clothes, complete with absurdly soft indoor slippers. His hair—normally swept back—was a mess, and the proud posture of “Lord Diarca” was nowhere to be seen.
Theorado had simply glanced at the young man, who began babbling his ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) demand without so much as a greeting, and turned away with a sighless indifference.
“I heard you were recovering at home due to poor health, but I didn’t know the injury was to your head. For the sake of our past acquaintance, I won’t call the guards right now. Leave quietly.”
It was less the tone of a commanding officer and more the way one might address a bothersome child. In truth, that was how Theorado had always viewed Kiole—someone from the House of Diarca, not a true member of the Imperial Guard.
Then again, Theorado van Ta-in was only half part of the Guard himself.
“Did you not hear me? I said we must send support to the South!”
Kiole flailed his arms, his voice urgent and unsteady. He tried to explain, but his words came out so jumbled he seemed no better than a toddler just learning to speak. Yet, once stripped of the chaos, his core message was surprisingly simple:
“...You believe another disaster is likely to strike the South soon, and the Imperial Guard should urgently dispatch aid, is that it?”
“Yes! That’s exactly it.”
Kiole's face lit up with relief. Theorado tilted his head.
“Why should we?”
“Pardon?”
“The Imperial Guard exists to protect the Imperial Palace and the Capital above all else. That means we have no reason to intervene in the South. His Majesty hasn’t given such an order either, and as I’ve heard, the previous disaster in the South is already being resolved. So where did you even hear this talk of another coming disaster? Did House Diarca send you to dump this on us?”
Kiole turned pale. But to Theorado’s surprise, he did not stammer or lash out. He merely pressed his lips together, then calmly spoke.
“...No. I obtained this information personally... from the Cavalry. The Duke of Diarca—my father—was also informed, but he decided not to send reinforcements.”
Kiole closed his eyes tightly and took several steadying breaths before murmuring:
“I believe you understand why. And that... that is why I’ve come here.”
“...You got this directly from the Cavalry? And what exactly is your connection to them?”
There had been no known relationship between Kiole di Diarca and the Cavalry. Theorado, suspicious, watched as Kiole flared up like a guilty man.
“Does that even matter right now?! What’s important is that the Duke of Diarca decided support wasn’t necessary!”
“...”
“You asked why the Imperial Guard should act. Have you forgotten the oath we took when we joined? We are not ordinary knights!”
The Imperial Guard primarily protected the Emperor and the capital. But they were, in fact, a special unit authorized to act anywhere in the Empire.
They were once the Emperor’s personal guard, before being reorganized into the Imperial Guard. Though not directly under the Emperor anymore, they retained the right to dispatch aid across the Empire without explicit orders.
However, that right had grown dusty. The current Guard had become more distant from the Emperor, often wary or critical of his rule.
Theorado himself had almost never used that authority—only three times had he dispatched the Guard beyond the capital, and those were for training purposes.
So when Kiole spoke of the Guard’s oath, it dug up something long buried in Theorado’s mind.
As Theorado furrowed his brow and went silent, Kiole seized the moment to press on.
“I’ve been in the South this entire time. I was there—on the day they now call the ‘Hailstorm Day.’ The Cavalry was convinced that what happened then wasn’t the end. If that’s true, of course more help should be sent! My personal thoughts about the Cavalry don’t matter... The South is still part of the Empire, isn’t it?!”
It was unclear how much Kiole truly knew. On the surface, he still looked like a hot-blooded youth, filled with nothing more than a naive sense of chivalry.
But that couldn’t have been all. For the first time, Theorado van Ta-in looked at Kiole di Diarca in a new light.
His claim that the Duke of Diarca refused to send help rang with truth. Judging by his clearly escapee-like state, it was likely that his father, thinking the upcoming disaster not worth the trouble, had confined him to prevent him from interfering.
But Kiole had rebelled. He had come this far, likely realizing that the Guard had nothing to lose by aiding the South.
The heir of House Ta-in supported the Emperor. The First Princess of House Ta-in had even joined the Cavalry. Theorado himself no longer had any reason to stand firmly with the noble faction, and had started to feel the need to extend a hand toward the Emperor’s side.
It was troublesome, yes—but it was something that needed to be done if he was to stay in this position.
“You figured all this out, even without anyone openly saying it... and came here on your own? That fool Kiole?”
What could drive someone like him to go that far?
The first thought that sprang to Theorado’s mind was naturally...
The Crown Prince, and the looming fight for the Diarca succession.
“...No way.”