Chapter 14: A New Purpose

Juhtmed remained standing outside the inn, staring down the alley where Nerisa had vanished moments ago. He wanted to chase after her, to demand more answers, but something held him back. His mind was spinning.

What if she's telling the truth? What if I really am this so-called savior?

The thought unsettled him. He had spent his whole life as joon being treated as a mistake—and transmigrated as an extra in a noble house, that no one had ever looked at him as anything more than a mistake. But now, this woman claimed he was the key to something far greater.

It made no sense.

He clenched his fists, staring at the cobbled ground beneath his feet. And even if it is true… why should I care?

Kaitsja let out a low groan from where he lay against the wall. Juhtmed turned just as his companion stirred, shifting uncomfortably before his eyes fluttered open. A pained expression crossed Kaitsja's face as he pressed a hand to his temple.

"Damn…" Kaitsja muttered, his voice rough. "Feels like I got hit by a war-hammer…"

Lian was next. She exhaled sharply as she woke, blinking several times before her gaze found Juhtmed. Confusion flickered across her face, then alarm.

"What happened?" she asked, slowly pushing herself up.

Juhtmed hesitated. He could tell them everything. Tell them about Nerisa's claims, about the supposed prophecy, about the secret war that had been waged in the shadows for centuries. But something stopped him.

Instead, he exhaled through his nose. "She drugged us," he said simply. "Put you both to sleep."

Kaitsja's hand flew to his sword on instinct, but his movements were sluggish, his strength not fully returned. "That witch—! Where is she?"

"Gone," Juhtmed replied. "By the time I realized what had happened, she had already disappeared."

Kaitsja's brows furrowed. "And you didn't go after her?"

Juhtmed looked away. "There was no point."

It wasn't a complete lie. Chasing her blindly would have been reckless, especially when he didn't know if she had allies lurking in the shadows. But the real reason was something he couldn't explain. Would it really change anything if I caught her? What if she told me more? Would that make any of this easier to accept?

No. He wasn't ready for those answers. Not yet.

Kaitsja groaned again as he forced himself to his feet. "Damn it. I should've seen it coming. Never trust a beautiful woman in a shady tavern."

Lian gave him a dry look. "That's your lesson from all this?"

"It's a solid rule to live by," Kaitsja grumbled, stretching his limbs. "Where's the vanguard?"

"I sent them back to the estate with a report," Juhtmed answered. "We should leave, too. We've spent enough time here."

Kaitsja shot him a wary glance but nodded. Lian, however, didn't look convinced.

"There's more to this, isn't there?" she said, watching Juhtmed closely.

He met her gaze but didn't answer. She didn't press further. Not yet.

The three of them mounted their horses, setting off at a steady pace back toward the capital, Jumalanna. The journey would take time, giving Juhtmed plenty of opportunity to wrestle with the thoughts that refused to leave him.

As the road stretched before them, the night settled in fully. The sky was a sea of stars, the moon casting a silver glow over the landscape. The rhythmic sound of hooves against dirt was the only thing keeping Juhtmed grounded.

But his mind was elsewhere.

The Verevihm… who where wiped out by the first emperor.

Rovan… what did he try to achieve, I don't even know.

And a prophecy… that speaks of someone like me bringing vengeance and change.

Juhtmed exhaled sharply. He never believed in fate. He had spent his entire life fighting for his own. He wasn't some grand hero. He wasn't meant to lead anyone.

So why did Nerisa's words unsettle him so much?

Kaitsja rode up beside him, cutting through his thoughts. "You've been quiet."

Juhtmed glanced at him. "I'm always quiet."

Kaitsja smirked. "No, you're always brooding. There's a difference."

Juhtmed shook his head, looking ahead again. "Just thinking."

Kaitsja studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "You sure you're alright? That woman didn't do anything else, did she?"

"She didn't," Juhtmed said, though even he wasn't sure if that was true.

Kaitsja didn't seem convinced, but he didn't push further. Instead, he glanced at Lian, who rode a little ahead. "She's thinking the same thing, you know," he muttered. "That something's off about all this."

Juhtmed remained silent.

The journey continued in uneasy quiet.

By the time they reached Jumalanna's outskirts, the first hints of dawn were breaking across the sky. The capital city stood tall before them, its walls grand and imposing, its towers glimmering with the first rays of sunlight.

Jumalanna was the heart of the empire. To the outside world, it was untouchable. Power did not make a place invulnerable. It only made the betrayals more dangerous.

As they passed through the gates, the city was already beginning to stir. Merchants set up their stalls, guards patrolled the streets.

The three of them rode toward the palace, their pace slowing. The grand halls of the palace soon loomed ahead, and as they dismounted. A lone servant greeted them as they passed through the palace gates, bowing with practiced deference. The early morning light filtered through the towering stone archways, casting a golden hue over the grand entrance hall. The distant murmur of court attendants already busy with their daily routines.

Kaitsja stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders with a groan. "I'm heading to the knights' training grounds," he announced. "Need to work out the stiffness from that ride."

Juhtmed nodded absently, his thoughts elsewhere. He knew Kaitsja didn't go to the training ground just for stretching—he needed to release some of the frustration from their failed mission. Lian, however, remained by Juhtmed's side, watching him carefully as they climbed the palace steps.

The moment they crossed into the cool interior, servants hurried to take their cloaks and weapons. Juhtmed barely acknowledged them, his mind weighed down by the conversation he knew was coming.

The Emperor, would want answers.

As they made their way toward his quarters, he finally let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The palace halls stretched wide around them, their footsteps echoing against the stone. Lian remained quiet, her gaze steady on him.

Once they reached his room, Juhtmed pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, the familiar space feeling almost suffocating after everything that had happened. The large chamber was sparsely decorated—just a sturdy bed, a writing desk covered in scattered reports, and a bookshelf lined with tomes that he never read.

Lian closed the door behind them, arms crossed. "Are you going to tell me now?"

Juhtmed exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Tell you what?"

Lian gave him a flat look. "Don't do that."

Juhtmed sighed and leaned against the desk. He wanted to tell her everything. About the gnawing feeling that, for the first time in his life, someone had seen something in him beyond just a burden.

But saying it out loud would make it real.

And he wasn't ready for that.

"Something isn't right," he admitted finally. "Nerisa knew we were coming."

Lian didn't blink. "You already said that. But that's not what's really bothering you, is it?"

Juhtmed looked at her.

Did lian had always been this sharp?

He could lie to the council. He could lie to his father. But lying to her?

It was useless.

Still, he wasn't ready to say the words.

"I just need time to think," he muttered, pushing away from the desk and moving toward the window. The city stretched out before him, the streets already alive with movement.

Lian was quiet for a long moment before she finally said, "You don't have much time, your highness."

He turned back to her.

She held his gaze, unwavering. "The emperor will want answers. If you don't give him any, he'll decide things for you."

Juhtmed clenched his jaw. He knew that better than anyone.

But this time, he wasn't sure he could afford to play by his father's rules.