Chapter 35.2 (1/2)

Damian suddenly raised his head.

The first thing he noticed was a thick herbal scent that brushed the tip of his nose.

However, not even the strong smell could mask the distinctive body odor of a dying person.

Damian clenched his teeth.

A censer for burning herbs, as well as a dimly lit room with drawn curtains.

And a slender figure lying before him on a large bed.

This entire scenery was familiar.

…… I was so used to it that I felt like throwing up.

“Father.”

The young Damian was in tears as he opened his mouth.

Damian took a step back and looked at himself from five years ago with a fed-up look.

At that call, the emperor’s eyelids trembled.

After a while, the emperor struggled to keep his eyes open.

Damian was the focus of his turbid sight.

“… Dian.”

Dian.

It was Damian’s nickname, which no one ever called him anymore and could only be heard in his nightmares.

My son…

The emperor stretched out his hand towards his son.

Damian, who was still young, cried as he held his father’s hand.

Looking from behind, older Damian quietly grabbed his hand still.

What was the feeling I felt as I held my father’s hand at the time?

Those hands that were terribly cold, as dry as straw, and as hard as tree stumps.

Oh, I see.

That hand was like…… It was like a dead body.

The emperor cried out to Damian in a fading voice.

“I’m leaving you alone when you’re still young… … I’m so sorry.”

It was a complicated voice.

Three years old.

It was the age when Damian would lose his father and be left alone.

The empress lost her life early while giving birth to Damian, so his only relative is his father, the emperor.

“It will be very difficult in the future. “

“But don’t forget. You inherited the power of the divine beast and the name of the founding emperor, Carpel…”

The emperor‘s hands were folded with only a sliver of strength left.

He gave all of his strength in continuing his speech one syllable after the other.

The only crown prince of the Winsor empire.

Damian, who was pondering those words, lowered his head with a weary face.

If I hadn’t inherited that name, would I not have to suffer this painful existence?

“……And, be wary of your uncle, Marquis Mod. Cough, cough!”

After the deafening voice, a sharp coughing sound erupted.