"I've come this far on the Commander's orders to find our missing team member. I'm close to fulfilling that duty as the Commander's assistant. But what about you?"
"…"
"You failed to protect your subordinate. You recklessly put your own life at risk, and now, blinded by personal rage, you're attacking me without thinking. Is that your role? You call yourself a noble, yet you're not thinking beyond your own pride. Is knocking me down more important than figuring out what really matters? What to do next? What use is your head if you can't think clearly?"
"What... what are you saying...?"
Kiolle's eyes and lips trembled.
"Whether you're a noble or a commoner, death comes the same for both. Stab either, and the same red blood spills. How much do you think your lineage matters here?"
"You…"
Finally, something seemed to click in Kiolle's mind. He swallowed his words and closed his mouth.
"So... you never intended to save me. That's why you left me till the end… to take revenge on me…"
'What would I gain from taking revenge on you?'
Yuder didn't bother to correct him. He kept his expression cold, his gaze steady. His frightened look wasn't bad.
"Convince me why I should save you. If you can't, you'll die here, Kiolle."
"Me? Convince you?" Kiolle's eyes widened in disbelief. His face twisted with confusion.
"Yes."
"So… you won't kill me? Seriously?"
"Not if you can convince me."
"Ha… Haha."
Kiolle's eyes implied he thought it was some kind of joke. But as the seconds passed and Yuder remained silent, patiently waiting, Kiolle's expression began to crumble.
'He's never had to consider life or death like this before.'
Yuder could tell that Kiolle wasn't foolish enough to choose death over trying to talk his way out of this. At least, Yuder hoped so.
He studied Kiolle's face, watching the subtle shifts in emotion: doubt, confusion, a flicker of hope. Pride and stubborn self-esteem fought to hold on, but anger and fear bled through, and slowly, all of it crumbled until only one feeling remained.
"...If you let me out of here... my father… will reward you."
Just as Yuder had expected.
"Rejected."
"Why?!"
As soon as Yuder shook his head, Kiolle shouted, face flushing with anger.
"Why? Because it's unnecessary. Next."
"Unnecessary? This is the Diarca family! We're talking about the reward of Diarca! Commoners like you die for money! What else do you need? Treasure? Jewelry? Or maybe a fine sword? A horse?"
"I don't care about money, jewelry, or treasure. I don't need any material things. Convince me with something else."
"Damn it! Then... a position! I'll give you a position. How about a regular knight's rank in the Imperial Knights?"
"Rejected."
Why would Yuder care about the Imperial Knights, a group that would become insignificant within a few years? He frowned, dismissing the offer without a second thought. Kiolle's face rippled with a mixture of anger and worry.
"Fine. I'll speak to my father and have you promoted to Cavalry Commander. It won't happen right away, but it should satisfy you."
Cavalry Commander? Yuder almost laughed out loud. Not only was it the most ridiculous offer so far, but the idea that a mere son of the Diarca family—one who wasn't even the heir—could lightly suggest such a thing was absurd.
'It shows how little the Diarca family values the Cavalry.'
Thankful that Kishiar wasn't around to hear this, Yuder responded coldly.
"How many times do I have to say I'm not interested in power or status?"
"Damn you, then what do you want?!"
"Is that all you know? Offering things to persuade people? And you don't even have the power to grant what you're offering. That's not persuasion."
Kiolle's face froze as if he'd heard something he'd never considered before in his life.
"What I asked for was a reason for your survival. Not wealth or status. Can't you even offer that? Do you really think you're superior to the dead when you can't?"
At least Kiolle's dead subordinate had understood the need to kneel before enemies to survive. It wasn't a good method—he'd died in the end—but he was still better off than Kiolle at this moment.
"…"
"The reason you're still alive is because everyone here was curious about your lineage. Beyond that, there's no reason to keep you alive. Why should I bother saving you, someone destined to die? Would you save someone who insults and annoys you?"
Yuder watched as Kiolle, pale as if struck, struggled to breathe. His mouth opened, but no words came. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. He'd always been treated with deference simply because of his family name.
'But I'll make him understand that nothing is taken for granted.'
After all, Yuder needed to save Kiolle and get him out of this place. If that was the case, then at least this much should be corrected to make his life worth saving. It was worth the effort for future matters.
"Ha, But... the other prisoners. They were saved. Why not me...?"
Whether he was finally convinced within Yuder's cold gaze that his status and abilities held no weight here, Kiolle's voice faded. For the first time, he was experiencing the feeling of being fundamentally denied.
Many had criticized or looked down on him before, but no one had ever ignored his noble status or the name Diarca.
His status and power had always been his strongest armor. Now, with that armor stripped away, Kiolle was left with nothing but fear and emptiness.
"They were innocent imperial citizens imprisoned just for awakening powers. Of course they deserved to be saved."
"So, you're saying I'm worse than those commoners?"
"Worse."
Yuder's reply was firm.
"Even after being defeated twice, you refuse to acknowledge your weakness and keep brandishing your sword aimlessly. How could you compare yourself to those who understand gratitude? Even a beast knows to lower its tail before a stronger foe. Unlike you."
"You… dare… compare me to a beast…?"
Kiolle stammered, his face white as a sheet. He looked as if he were on the verge of fainting from shock.
"Fine, fine! It doesn't matter if you won't save me. They can't kill me anyway! If I just wait, my father will come for me. He will rescue me!"
"Really? Will he?"
At Yuder's soft question, Kiolle's expression twisted in confusion.
"No one even knows you're missing. The knights who came with you for training aren't looking for you, so how would your father know? There's more than enough time for these people to kill you and bury your body."
"What...?"
"Your death wouldn't change anything, Kiolle. A non-heir dying in a training accident? That wouldn't surprise anyone. Even if the culprit is found, the noble families won't start a feud over it. It's that simple."
'You are, simply, that insignificant.'
"Ah..."
At Yuder's cold words, Kiolle's ragged breathing halted. As foolish as he was, he was still a noble, and he understood the weight of what Yuder said. The truth was undeniable, and Kiolle had no rebuttal.
Reality was finally sinking in. His anger seemed to fade as he processed the gravity of the situation. Sensing that he'd finally broken through Kiolle's stubbornness, Yuder watched him closely.
"Well, if you're so eager to die, I won't stop you. Are we done talking?"
"…"
"Alright then. It seems there's nothing more to say—"
"…Wait! Wait."
Kiolle urgently called out, stopping Yuder in his tracks.
"I... I get it. You're stronger than me. I admit it… I'll admit it. I'll… I'll apologize too."
Yuder, who had been ready to leave, paused. Kiolle, trembling, struggled to lift his head, using every ounce of strength to hold onto Yuder.
"If calling you a commoner made you angry, I take it back. If you let me out of here… I promise I'll never challenge you to a duel again. I'll do anything you ask!"
His bound hands gripped Yuder's robe tightly.
"Just… please save me. I don't want to die here..."
Finally, the words Yuder had been waiting for.
But Yuder didn't show any satisfaction. Instead, he slowly sat down, his expression as cold as ever.
"You'll do anything?"
"Yes, anything."
"Even if I ask you to betray your family? Or the Imperial Knights?"
"…"
Kiolle froze, his eyes widening in horror.
'Ah, he's scared. Still just a child.'
Yuder looked down at him and shook his head.
"Relax. I don't intend to ask you that. You're not competent enough for such a task."
"You... You bastard… You're making a fool of me!"