Extra 10 - In the Sky I Observed

"This mansion is haunted."

It was early morning, a time when the sun had not yet risen and everything was shrouded in a dim twilight. 

Vlad, barely able to keep his eyes open, was awakened by Zemina's voice from beside him.

"What?"

"I'm telling you, this place has ghosts. I saw them last night."

As his vision gradually came into focus, Zemina appeared in front of him, hands clawed like a cat, trying to convey something eerie. 

To Vlad, who didn't understand the context, it was just another of her peculiar antics.

"What on earth did you eat?"

"I knew you'd say that."

Breaking into his room so early in the morning to talk about ghosts seemed absurd to Vlad, who sighed and laid back down. 

But Zemina pulled the blankets away with determination.

"…What's wrong with you this early?"

"Look at this! I have proof!"

While Vlad, still groggy, tried to ignore her, Zemina waved a piece of paper in front of his face. 

It was the drawing the World Tree Priestess had handed her the night before.

"The ghost I saw left me this drawing. What do you think? Don't you feel a chill just looking at it?"

"…"

"Look at this messy stroke! It's obviously cursed."

As Zemina claimed, the drawing was utterly chaotic. 

However, its vibrant colors made it hard to determine the artist's age or intent.

"A ghost gave you this?"

"I swear it did."

"…Did this ghost have platinum blonde hair and wear a white dress?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"

Hearing Vlad describe the supposed ghost exactly, Zemina gasped, covering her mouth in astonishment. Her wide eyes grew even rounder as she stared at Vlad.

"I've got goosebumps!"

Her large eyes, now even more rounded, seemed to confirm Vlad's accuracy. 

Vlad scratched his head as he began to study the drawing she had given him.

"…Hmm?"

As dawn broke over Sturma, the faint light filtering through the windows slowly illuminated the room. 

Vlad furrowed his brows as he tried to decipher the drawing's message.

***

At the same time, the Bayezid mansion was bustling with guests, transformed into a social hub.

Nobles and envoys from across the continent had gathered. 

For many, this rare chance to mingle was the perfect opportunity to form new connections.

"Oh, Lord Vlad Aureo…"

Among all the guests, the one they most sought to meet was Vlad, the new Swordmaster. 

However, Vlad paid no attention to the countless individuals approaching him and instead strode confidently up the stairs.

'You should visit our mother. I'm sure it would make her happy to see you.'

"…"

He passed the noise of the first and second floors, heading to the third—a quieter area closed to guests.

Reaching the hushed hallway, Vlad paused and glanced around.

"The sun shines just as brightly as ever."

When he had been a squire, this hallway was always alive with the bustle of servants and activity. 

Now, the stillness was so profound that he could hear the birds singing outside.

Sniff, sniff.

Before stepping further, Vlad sniffed at his clothes discreetly, checking if he smelled unpleasant. 

It was an old habit from his days in the slums, one he still hadn't shaken.

But even in winter, when he wore heavy layers, the lady of this house had always greeted him with a warm smile.

"…Lord Vlad?"

"It's a pleasure to see you again after so long."

Outside Oksana's room, Vlad greeted the maid stationed there with a polite nod. She was a middle-aged woman who had come to the household from Oksana's family.

"I've come to visit Lady Oksana."

"Oh, of course."

The maid immediately recognized Vlad and smiled warmly.

"It's hard to believe how elegant you've become!"

"Thank you."

Though her smile was bright, the somber atmosphere of the room seemed to weigh even on the maid, whose tone was more subdued than usual. 

Perhaps, after so long without laughter, she had forgotten how to truly smile.

"Please wait a moment. I'll let her know you're here."

Even though Vlad had announced his visit beforehand, he understood that ladies always needed time to prepare. 

Waiting in the reception room, he sat quietly, taking in his surroundings.

"…"

They say a room reflects its owner.

Although the room was spacious, the furnishings and decorations were modest. 

It didn't feel empty, though, as warm orange sunlight filled the space.

"Vlad?"

"Ah… yes."

In that sunlight was someone who had always smiled at him. Seeing that smile made the damp, moldy corners of his heart feel just a little warmer.

"You must be tired from your journey, Vlad."

"…"

But today, the smile Oksana offered him was heavy with sorrow, like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"…Forgive me. I should have come sooner."

"It's alright, don't worry. Come closer."

Sitting on the bed, Oksana gestured for him to approach. 

Her outstretched hands were dry and frail, like brittle twigs.

She hadn't been eating well; she was ill, worn down… Like the last time Vlad had seen his own birth mother. Seeing her state, Vlad couldn't help but nervously wet his lips.

"I know how busy you've been."

"…"

"I know you've worked hard to accomplish what my son could not."

It had been two years since Joseph's death, but Oksana spoke of him as if it had happened just yesterday.

"Have you taken care of the rogue dark mages?"

"…In the north, most of them."

"And those who sowed discord under the Blood Dragon?"

"There's a meeting in Brigantes. I plan to close the divisions there."

Every era bears its burdens, and the living must endure them.

A man had once said that this generation must drink the poison that had seeped across the world to cleanse it.

"You've done so much, Vlad."

Joseph, who had sacrificed the last of his days trying to burn away that poison, had left the task to Vlad. 

And as Oksana watched his efforts, she gave him a faint, weary smile.

"It's a relief. Maybe the next generation won't have to endure what you have."

Though Vlad didn't physically resemble Joseph, Oksana looked at him with the same warmth she had shown her own son.

"As expected, it's good to see you well-fed. Those broad shoulders… you're every bit a man now."

"…Thank you."

But Vlad, sitting beside the bed, couldn't meet her gaze.

Because he knew that while she might have been like a mother to him, he could never truly be her son.

The only one who could comfort this woman, fading a little more each day, was Joseph, who now lay beneath the gravestone visible through the window. And Vlad was all too aware of that fact.

***

"…At times like this, it feels so unfair."

Beneath a sky blanketed in clouds, Vlad quietly uncorked a bottle of whiskey.

Behind him, the mansion bustled with the sounds of celebration, but in the small garden, it seemed like another world—serene and removed from the commotion.

Standing before Joseph's gravestone, Vlad poured out a portion of the liquor in silence, sighing as his gaze drifted toward the commemorative tower for fallen knights visible in the distance.

"It seems like those who left first have it easy. The ones left behind are the ones still carrying the weight of it all."

Gregory, Ragmus, Agge… and many others, knights whose names he hadn't even known, who had fought alongside him against Sarnus on that day.

Vlad raised his glass of whiskey in tribute to the freshly engraved names on the tower. But then he felt the presence of someone behind him and turned his head.

"Still, finishing what they couldn't is the duty of those who remain."

"Marcus."

From a spot that had seemed empty a moment ago, a man stepped forward. 

His face was marred with deep scars, a testament to the trials he must have endured in the past.

"At least the knights who rest here are fortunate. There are those in this world who vanish without even leaving their name behind."

Vlad nodded silently in agreement with Marcus's words.

No one is born without purpose, but that doesn't guarantee their purpose will endure to the end.

"The Pope, Andreas, wanted me to relay his gratitude. It seems the ones you dealt with this time caused him quite a bit of trouble."

"Did they?"

Over the past two years, Vlad had traversed the continent, stamping out the remnants of lingering threats. 

Sometimes, he faced dark mages who manipulated others; other times, he hunted down the last of Dragulia's followers.

His relentless pursuit was his way of ensuring that the names now etched before him had not been sacrificed in vain.

"Is there anyone else left? Once this ceremony is over, I could head out again."

"…"

But Marcus didn't answer Vlad's question about his next target. 

Instead, he uncorked a bottle of liquor and poured it silently onto the grass nearby.

"You're still young, and I think you've done more than enough."

"Marcus?"

Marcus, who had been pouring out the liquor for the nameless dead like himself, raised his head and nodded toward Vlad, who now wore a puzzled expression.

"By the last order of Count Peter, the Ravens will no longer provide you with information."

"…"

"The Count wanted you to stop living for others and start living for yourself. That was his final request."

There are stars that shine brightly because they have a dream, a goal they wish to achieve.

But now, that star was losing its light, unable to release the bonds it should have left behind. It was time to raise its gaze to a new sky.

"It seems we won't see each other for a while."

"It appears so."

"Then let me ask you just one thing."

As Marcus turned to leave after delivering his message, Vlad stopped him with a single question.

"What is your real name?"

"…"

The nameless Raven, the man who introduced himself differently each time they met. 

Vlad had always been curious about the true identity of this enigmatic figure.

But Marcus, without looking back, simply gestured toward the commemorative tower.

"I don't know. I buried my old name there."

A man who had laid to rest the name that defined him, to meld seamlessly into the shadows.

And with that, Marcus disappeared without a trace, just as he had when Vlad first met him.

"…Looks like I'm unemployed now."

Standing alone in the garden, Vlad muttered a dry reflection after Marcus's departure.

Adrift and unsure of what path to follow, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and stared at it intently.

"What am I supposed to do now, Joseph?"

It was the drawing the World Tree Priestess had given Zemina.

Vlad studied the drawing for a long time. But beside him, Joseph remained silent, unable to respond.

Swaaahhhh—

From the overcast sky, rain finally began to fall.

Looking up toward the heavens, Vlad felt the rain drench him, as if it were urging him forward, leaving a bitter weight in his heart.