Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended

CHAPTER 193: Two Roads, One Heartbreak

***

The wind carried a biting chill, yet the first whispers of spring stirred in the air, rustling the stubborn leaves of the great tree overlooking a spring. North of Lunarel, where the land remained untouched by the chaos of the city, two knights knelt before three freshly laid graves.

Leopold’s plated gauntlets clenched into fists against his thighs. His head was bowed, but his sharp eyes lingered on the tombstones, each name carved with care.

Beside Leopold, Blazin also knelt, his heavy armor groaning with every movement. Then silence blanketed them. The stillness was suffocating. The former lieutenant was the first to break it. His voice was hoarse and thick with restrained emotion.

“This isn’t right, Commander.” He swallowed hard, staring at the freshly turned earth. “Lord Alaric deserved better than this. Hell, they all did.”

Leopold exhaled sharply through his nose. His fingers twitched, aching to reach for his sword, though there was no enemy to cut down.

“You’re right,” he admitted dejectedly. “We failed them.” The words burned as they left his lips. “We were supposed to protect him… and yet, here we are… burying him instead. There is no greater failure to a knight than the murder of their lord.”

Blazin let out a bitter chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “I keep telling myself there was nothing we could’ve done. That it was out of our hands. But deep down, I know that’s a damn lie.” His jaw tightened. “I know this wasn’t some indiscriminate act of violence. I know some noble bastard had his hands in this.”

Leopold’s grip on his gauntlets tightened. “And I’ll find out who,” he muttered sternly, even as the image of Ignatius Pembroke manifested at the forefront of his mind.

Suddenly, the image started smoldering at the edges until it was completely incinerated. Then his mind reeled back to a memory—one that had remained untouched until now.

The memory faded, leaving a hollow ache in Leopold’s chest. His lord had been right. In the end, all that remained was the memory of the life lived.

He took a slow breath, his eyes burning as he looked at the tombstone once more. “I will not let your name be forgotten, my lord. Nor yours, Lady Rosalind. Nor yours, little Elias.”

Blazin placed a hand on the grave, bowing his head. “We’ll keep your memory alive, Lord Alaric. We swear it.”

***

When they both returned to the city gates, a heavy silence followed before Blazin let out a sigh. He hesitated before turning to Leopold. “Commander… this is where we part ways.”

The man looked up, his brows furrowing.

Blazin rubbed the back of his neck, a weary smile tugging at his lips. “As I’ve mentioned before, without Lord Alaric, there isn’t much left for me in knighthood. I’ve spent years swinging a sword, but…” His smile faltered, and he exhaled softly. “I’ve got siblings, y’know? I want to be there for them. I want to build a home for them. To be more than just a man with a blade.”

Leopold felt a pang in his chest. The man had fought beside him through countless battles, had been a steadfast brother-in-arms. But he understood.

Leopold extended a gauntleted hand with a faint smile. “Then go. Build that home. Pursue your dream as a craftsman. Be happy, Blazin.”

The former lieutenant grasped his hand firmly, his grip strong and unwavering. “You too, Commander. I hope… I hope you find the bastard who did this. And I hope you find peace too.”

Leopold gave a small nod. “Farewell, old friend.”

Blazin lingered for a moment before stepping away, his armored boots clinking against the cobblestone streets. He didn’t look back.

Leopold remained, his gaze drifting off into the cityscape. “Rest easy, my lord. I’ll carry your memory with me. Always.”

And with that, he turned, stepping into the city’s embrace—one step closer to vengeance.