The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth-Chapter 418: Olivurn Shutean

“I’ve done my part,” Kay Rothschild said in a low voice, her gaze fixed on the corpse that had just awakened.

“If your aim is to interrogate him, then I won’t be much help. I only forced him awake with puppetry, but we didn’t form a contract. That means I can’t give him any commands.”

She shrugged with indifference. Watching the dead return to life no longer seemed to shake her in the slightest.

“If I stop channeling mana into him, he’ll fall back into his eternal slumber. But if he still has even the faintest will to live, you could use that as leverage. Whether that would actually mean anything to your conversation with him is another matter entirely. Anyway, that’s all I can offer.”

Karyl nodded.

“I suppose I better be taking my leave, yes?”

Karyl hadn’t really told her anything, but she was sure he had his reasons for doing this. After all, he had chosen to revive the emperor’s corpse right when the Pharel raid team was being assembled.

“Yes, I’d appreciate some privacy.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone what happened here. But you know that necromancy leaves traces of mana. The Great Sorcerers will have sensed it already. That old sorcerer from the empire is probably banging at the door, demanding to be let in.”

“Kadin Luer...”

At that moment, Olivurn slowly sat up in his coffin. His countenance was ashen and lifeless, his eyes blank and hollow. One could tell from a glance that he was dead.

Yet even so, Karyl struggled to suppress the emotion rising within himself.

“Karyl,” Allen Javius called out in a whisper.

“Don’t worry,” Karyl said with a sigh, as though he knew exactly what Allen was worried about.

“You... You must be the one who woke me. This place... I’m in the royal tomb. So I suppose that last scene... wasn’t a dream,” Olivurn remarked in a calm voice, facing Karyl.

“Has the empire pledged itself to you?”

“Really? You came back from the dead, and that’s the first thing you ask? You never change,” Karyl sighed. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily use pledge, but Kadin Luer is working with me now, thanks to your corpse. And the knight orders aren’t causing any trouble either.”

“I see...” Olivurn closed his eyes for a moment, as if to process Karyl’s answer. “So the empire really did fall.”

“Yes.”

“What about the Platinum Dragon?”

“He’s dead. I killed him myself. I have his heart. The other three dragons have returned to their lairs under my command.”

Olivurn looked surprised, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard—though he had no saliva to swallow, being dead. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave a bitter smile.

“That’s certainly surprising... but I suppose that’s the best outcome in a string of terrible ones.”

“Did you want the Platinum Dragon dead?”

“I only wanted the empire to be free from him.”

“Why?” Karyl narrowed his eyes and pressed the question.

But Olivurn just lifted his chin slightly, smirking the way he always did. “I don’t see why I need to tell you that.”

“You really are insufferable,” Karyl muttered. “Scheming even in death. What do you think you’re going to gain from it?”

“I don’t seek to gain anything, just to make things difficult for you. It’s the least bit of payback I can offer after you killed me. What, you thought I’d just help you like nothing happened?”

Olivurn’s grin grew wider as he went on, “And since you went through the trouble of waking me, I assume there’s something you need from me, even if I don’t stand to gain anything myself. If that’s the case, then I might as well start thinking about what I can get out of this.”

Olivurn Shutean wasn’t some pawn. Most would freeze when confronted with their killer, let alone speak to them, but Olivurn had quickly accepted the reality of his death, now taking the chance to negotiate on behalf of those who were left behind.

“Haha...” Karyl snorted.

“Let’s hear it then. What is it you seek from me?”

“Royal blood.”

Olivurn furrowed his brow. “You could just take it from my corpse, couldn’t you?”

“It’s not that simple. If your blood were all I needed, rest assured I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble. What I need is to break the oath the Platinum Dragon made with the Shutean family.”

“Ah...” Olivurn’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “Then I suppose we should thank our ancestors. The weak ones of our generation got swept away and died without doing a thing, but the pacts they left behind are still doing just enough to prop up what little worth we have.”

His tone was bitter and self-deprecating.

“Don’t act like that’s noble. What value? Things have changed. The world’s shifting in ways you couldn’t even imagine back when you were alive. That little war you started, those games you tried to play... That’s nothing compared to what’s looming ahead.”

Karyl looked him in the eye, his tone cold. “The Oracle has been prophesied, and the gods have summoned the Nephilim to this world.”

Olivurn’s eyes widened slightly. He remained silent.

“And now, monsters known as Tarak will begin pouring out of a tower summoned by the gods. We call it Pharel.”

With that, Karyl lifted his hand, and the tomb reacted to his mana. The blank walls shimmered like glass, and magical projections appeared, showing the outside world. The dark crypt was now lit up.

Olivurn’s expression hardened as he looked at the snow-laden landscape beyond the tomb.

Of course, how could he forget the capital?

“Feels like it’s been ages since I last saw this view.”

“If you don’t help me, that view will be engulfed in flames. Do you see that tower in the distance? It’s still dormant now, but soon it will begin to release the monsters.”

Karyl pointed to one of the projections.

“We don’t know why the gods placed Pharel here. They didn’t tell us why that cursed tower spews out monsters. They only told us to stop it.”

He took a step closer to Olivurn. “And with no explanation, our land will be trampled and destroyed for the gods’ amusement. The people of the empire you once loved will die in ways you can’t even imagine.”

“So what? I don’t rule them anymore.”

“Is that really how you feel?” Karyl stared at him in silence for a long moment. “The throne you clawed your way up to by stepping over your younger brother and toppling your older brother surely wasn’t just for greed, right?”

“Karyl. Listen closely.”

It had been a year since the Oracle had been prophesied. Olivurn and Karyl were atop the outer walls of the imperial palace.

“Do you see those three poles at the edge over there? Most people think they’re just decorative symbols of the empire, but that’s not the case. They’re enchanted. They signal a barrage when a national treasure is housed within the palace.”

Karyl followed his finger and looked where Olivurn pointed.

“The projectiles launched from them are also magical flares. They’ll be visible all across the continent.” freēwēbηovel.c૦m

“So what?”

“If those flares ever rise into the sky, I want you to return here and protect the empire in my stead. It will mean I’m dead.”

Now, standing in silence, Karyl felt the memory rise up like a mouthful of sand, leaving his mouth dry and heavy.

You wanted to protect the empire so badly that you would entrust it to me, an immigrant, if you were gone. Even if your own family meant nothing to you, the empire clearly did. That much was clear.

In his previous life, Karyl had once assumed that Olivurn’s devotion to the empire stemmed simply from his benevolent nature, but he quickly discarded that notion after learning about his bloody path to ascending the throne.

After all, how much kindness could there be in the heart of a man who had trodden over the corpses of his family to rise to power?

There had to be another reason Olivurn clung so desperately to the empire, something Karyl had yet to understand.

In his past life, Karyl had cruelly used the third flare, a secret signal that meant assassination, to corner Olivurn. And in this life, he had used it to understand his heart.

“Was it because of your mother?”

Hearing that, Olivurn’s expression hardened.

“Everyone in the empire knows you were born out of wedlock. If that alone shook you, then you’re weaker than I thought. No wonder the Platinum Dragon had you in the palm of his hand.”

“You’re as insufferable as ever. I knew from the moment I saw you in Heim that you and I would never be allies.”

Karyl gave a bitter smile. Olivurn’s gaze seemed to pierce straight through Karyl, even though his eyes were dead, lacking light.

“Or maybe you were the only one I could trust to take care of my land.”

“...”

Karyl was taken aback, momentarily lost for words. His expression froze as a flood of emotions surged within him. He swallowed back the words rising in his throat.

He had been entrusted with the empire once before, but the circumstances of this life were entirely different.

“You madman... Your land? You’re lucky if they’ll even leave you one square meter of dirt to rot in.”

“Hah, this is great. You know, now that I’m dead, talking with you feels way easier. Before, we used to speak through a veneer of formality, ready to cross swords over every word. Now, I can just tell you to go to hell, and it just feels... so natural. Not that we were ever friends.”

At that, Karyl pursed his lips, remembering how in his previous life Olivurn had called him his friend in his dying moments.

“Forget the small talk and break the Platinum Dragon’s vow already,” Karyl demanded.

“I’ll ask you for one thing.”

“What is it?”

“When everything you set out to do is over, wake me up once again.”

“So you’re still clinging to life?”

“There’s something I want to see.”

“...”

“That’s our deal. But no soul-binding contracts, please. Only after I died did I finally see what you’ve been carrying with you. You’re stuffing all those spirits into that one fragile body, and somehow your mind hasn’t shattered. That alone is impressive.” Olivurn looked past Karyl as he spoke.

He could see them—the looming Spirit Kings, Allen’s shadowy form, and Mael’s constricting shadow, all bound around Karyl like chains.

“What do you plan to do once you can properly wield the Platinum Dragon’s power?”

“I’ll take the tower.”

“Challenging the gods now, are you? Those with power always end up doing something reckless. But in the end, they always lose to something greater. Just like the Platinum Dragon lost to you.”

“Humans are stronger than gods,” Karyl argued. He then shook his head. “Well, maybe it’s just me who’s stronger.”

Olivurn let out a dry chuckle. “If you survive the gods... will the empire thrive under your name?”

“That’s impossible. The empire is already gone,” Karyl answered without flinching. “But the Free Nation will flourish. From the north to the south, from the eastern shores to the western horizon, people will live not under my name but under the banner of freedom. That is, if you help me.”

“Yes, I myself chased after that dream once,” Olivurn muttered, almost to himself. “And maybe, just maybe... it’s something I’d like to see.”

He lifted his wrist, drew the sword from Karyl’s side, and made a clean cut. The flesh parted easily, like there was no feeling left in it. Blood slowly dripped down, and though his skin was deathly pale, the blood still looked faintly warm.

“I’ll undo the vow.”

“What about a contract? There should still be a binding agreement in the royal archives. Even the dead should be able to invoke it.”

“No need. Whether it’s an oath or a soul pact, none of that matters to me anymore. I’d prefer a promise. That’s the most human thing,” Olivurn whispered. “And if you do keep that promise and wake me again one day, then I’ll tell you the story I’ve kept sealed in my heart.”

“What story?”

A soft humming echoed just as Karyl asked that question.

“My heart may have died...”

In that moment, Olivurn’s body began to dissolve into shimmering light, fading away like dust.

“...But you’re still alive, Karyl MacGovern.”

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