By Zephyria 
Summer.
The sound of ice clinking echoed inside a crystal glass. Even though eight glasses of whiskey had already passed, the ice still held its shape.
Lately, I didn’t keep anyone by my side when I drank. Instead, when the silence became too hard to bear, I put two pieces of ice in the glass.
Two.
Must be nice. Being two.
I recalled the night sky we used to look up at, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Michael.
I leaned my body over. Because I was tipsy, I couldn’t quite smell the silver lace scent I had sprayed on the sofa. I took a deeper breath and filled the glass once more. And I drank again.
“…Haha.”
My miserable state was truly laughable.
Ah. I feel good. The clinking sound continued inside the glass. I felt warm from my fingertips to my toes.
Michael used to worry so much that my hands and feet were cold. Like a fool. Not knowing that I wasn’t cold, but that he was just hot…
As long as I held Michael’s hand, I wasn’t cold in the slightest, no matter how freezing the winter was.
Just like now.
‘Ruben.’
“…Yeah.”
‘Are you not tired?’
“No, I’m fine.”
‘And the pain.’
“I’m serious. I don’t hurt at all.”
‘You promised not to lie.’
“…It hurts a little. Just a little… I think I’d be all better if you gave me a massage.”
‘….’
“Not this time either?”
Michael didn’t answer.
My modest lover, as expected, always runs away the moment I say something slightly naughty.
Giggling, I filled the glass again. The ice, its edges slightly worn, looked exceptionally clear and transparent under the light of the small magic lamp. So I drank again. It tasted good.
A melody naturally began to hum from my lips.
“Shan-hang-sin-hin, so u-i-en….”
Michael had said that in his previous life, he had rarely encountered anything that could be called proper music. Instead, in his youth, he enjoyed the pleasure of reciting poetic verses while tapping the railing of a boat beside friends who loved elegant sijo. Among them, this was the sijo Michael liked the most.
In the silent night of a mountain temple, I sit alone and speechless.
All things have fallen asleep, and the world is as it once was.
For what reason does that wind awaken the sleeping forest,
And make a single cold wild goose cry across the vast sky?
I didn’t know if it was a song or a poem. The melody was simple and the rhythm was fluid. Humming, I connected syllable after syllable according to the tune Michael had taught me. Doing so made me feel unexpectedly excited.
Ah, right. I should hold my sword.
A human soul was essentially no different from mana. The mind method Michael had engraved into my body was no different from him sharing his own soul. That was why, at some point, I felt the urge to swing my sword whenever I drank. Because every time internal energy circulated through the acupoints of my body, I was with Michael.
I took the sword, still in its scabbard, which I had hung on the study wall to be easily seen, and stepped out into the hallway.
As usual, two knights followed me.
I wanted to be alone—no, I wanted to be just the two of us, Michael and I—but I often injured myself when swinging a sword while this drunk. Since I wanted to see Michael and not die, I let them protect me.
The hallway wavered. My steps were light. I was excited.
I arrived at the martial arts training ground. I habitually took a position in the center and gripped the sword with one hand.
‘Hmm.’
“What. Is this not it?”
‘Yes. You must straighten your waist more and lift your chin higher. You must hold the tip of the sword in a straight line so it does not shake.’
“Like this?”
‘That is a bit better.’
I reread the sword art manual Michael had written for me a while ago. The Azure Sky Unfettered Sword Art.
Even after ascending the Unique Mountain Range, I occasionally had opportunities for posture correction, but it was only recently that I became accustomed to executing everything from the first form to the final chapter in a single breath.
It was a demanding sword art where the mind method, footwork, and sword art all contained a single intent, yet each part of the body had to move as if divided into pieces, each possessing its own life.
Particularly in the middle and latter halves, the consumption of internal energy for a single swordplay was enormous. Every phrase had to be memorized, considering even the position and sequence of the acupoints, but simply memorizing it was not enough to perform it properly.
Fortunately, the Hip-Circle Light Cultivation Method was a technique where mana accumulated in the dantian (energy center) even while walking or sleeping. Thanks to that, my current mana quantity was very high.
Movements that were difficult before could now be cleared easily with the help of internal energy. Stepping with the left foot first, bending the right knee to turn the body halfway, then drawing a large arc with the sword…
Ah.
“Your Majesty!”
“No, I’m fine. Stay there.”
“….”
“I’m really fine.”
Whether I had tripped or just collapsed.
I just blinked, and I found myself sitting on the floor, having lost my balance. Is my clothing a bit stifling? I fiddled with my cravat but didn’t undo it. Because Michael would hate it.
I looked down at my hands. I hadn’t cut myself today. Then I could do a bit more.
Since I’m very drunk, instead of the Changcheon Sword…
Right, shall I do the Three Calamities?
Horizontal slash, vertical slash, and thrust. Michael called these three the Three Calamities Sword Technique.
I staggered up and gripped the sword with both hands. The hesitating knights retreated to the same distance as before. I stood with my back to the knights so that no accident would occur where they might be injured by my sword.
I slowly raised the sword. And then I slashed downward.
A blue aura, resembling Michael, drew a vivid straight line.
Meanwhile, I spoke to Michael again.
Look, Mika. I’m a Sword Master now. It’s thanks to your help. Thanks to our adventure, I’ve learned and mastered so many things. This is just a tiny part of it…
Now I understand why you only slashed your sword with such perfect posture.
I guess what you wanted to cut down was longing. I’m the same. I want to break everything too. Haha. Of course, you weren’t like me. Because you were an unnecessarily kind, tender, and gentle person.
Sometimes, you know, I understand the Ninth God.
I would have been the same. I’ve only lived a year in a world without you, and yet it’s this overwhelming and difficult. When I see happy people, rage boils up inside me. When I see a bastard smiling, I want to rip their mouth open. It’s a world you protected, yet it feels like no one is grateful to you. How did that bastard endure a thousand years like this?
Still, I’m okay. There’s not much time left. Right. You’re on your way to me even now…
‘Yes.’
Do you miss me too?
‘Of course.’
How much?
Michael’s answer did not return. Sweat broke out all over my body.
I stopped, panting. Ah. This is unbelievable. I’ve sobered up again. Again… A laugh escaped me. Giggling, I threw the sword away. Fuck, seriously.
I should go back in. I’ll drink just a bit more… then wash up and sleep.
For some reason, I had a good feeling today. Michael might appear in my dreams today. If possible, I hope he smiles instead of cries today… I simply couldn’t understand why, even though it’s my dream, it doesn’t go my way.
* * *
Michael sent a strange telegram.
That he was going to hold a funeral. That Michael Ernhardt’s funeral would be held soon. That he knew I had his brother’s will. That if it were alright, he wanted me to send it via a messenger…
Startled, I fumbled at my chest. The sound of paper rustling echoed. I had Michael’s will. It was still safe. Yes, Michael is still alive… But why?
After Count Ernhardt passed away, Michael took a leave of absence. I knew that everyone in the Ernhardt family had been wearing mourning clothes.
But Michael’s funeral? This was the first I’d heard of it. It made no sense. It had only been a year. How could they give up on Michael already?
By the time I came to my senses, I was already riding a horse.
At some point, the exhausted horse stopped galloping and began to walk. After whipping it several times, the horse finally burst into a cry. Then, the horse began to gallop again.
I couldn’t remember if I had thanked it. I just looked ahead.
I brushed past vineyards that were cruelly pitch-black. The black darkness kept trying to swallow me. Beyond the sound of the panting horse with its tongue hanging out, I heard a scream. No, it wasn’t. It was the sound of a bird crying. The sound was so loud that my temples throbbed as if they were being punished.
When Michael was here, I felt like I could achieve anything even if I were stuck in the middle of a high cliff, but now that I am left alone, even running on flat ground is breathlessly terrifying. I felt as if something I absolutely did not want to see was waiting at the end of this road. I, I…
I finally arrived.
I was out of breath. I tumbled off the horse and abruptly hugged a strange object. The coffin I lifted was very light. It was empty.
The strength left my legs. I… I was terrified that Michael might be inside… I was scared…
I raised my voice in anger.
“What… what is the meaning of this?”
I couldn’t bring myself to curse. It was because Seiren Ernhardt’s blue eyes were vivid even beyond the pitch-black veil.
Resembling Michael greatly, she was looking at me with eyes drenched in red. Besides her, people who each resembled a piece of Mika looked at me with very unfamiliar expressions. I stepped back, unwilling to let the object I was hugging be taken away.
This must not be buried. If it were, it would feel like everything is over. I.
Not yet. I am not ready yet.
“What do you mean, ‘what is the meaning’? And what about Your Majesty’s actions?”
“No, it’s not. I… didn’t I, didn’t I guarantee it? Mika, Mika hasn’t left yet. Soon… he will really return soon. No matter what his father says.”
My lower jaw trembled. It felt as if all time was flowing according to nature, leaving only me behind. It felt as if everyone had already forgotten Michael.
I cannot be the only bastard wishing and pleading for him to return. I had to leave a place for Michael.
Family, family… even if Michael forgot me, even if he no longer loved me, they were absolutely necessary for him to return to this world. So it cannot be. I cannot allow it. Even if I have to borrow the authority of the Emperor, I will absolutely…
William Ernhardt, who had been watching me quietly, slowly curled the corners of his mouth upward.
“I believe so as well.”
….
Then why?
Among the people who were snickering one by one, I stood alone, looking bewildered. They didn’t try to take this terrible thing I was holding, and they didn’t shout at me that, fuck, Michael is dead and gone; they just kept smiling, making me feel like I had been the victim of a very grotesque prank.
William continued.
“I told you that I also believe Michael will return alive, Your Majesty.”
“Then… then why this.”
“There was a will from the previous Count Ernhardt. I hesitated until now because it felt awkward to follow the instruction to hold a funeral for a living grandson… but I couldn’t just pretend I hadn’t heard it.”
“….”
“Since you have come, it would be good if you could observe the order of the service with us. If Your Majesty misses him, Michael might return a bit faster. As you know… our son liked Your Majesty very much, didn’t he?”
…The strength left my hands.
The coffin was empty. No clinking sound came from inside.
Normally, a coffin without a body is filled with the clothes the deceased enjoyed wearing or a few cherished belongings, but even so, it was too light. It was either completely empty… or it contained only a few useless items.
William Ernhardt continued to persuade me in a calm voice.
“Still, let us bury it today. We have also agonized over this for a long time.”
….
I hated it so much that my jaw trembled. My insides were boiling.
I don’t know why they are having a fake funeral. I couldn’t understand why they put Michael’s name on an empty coffin knowing it wasn’t him. What if Michael really turns his back without any lingering attachment because of this?
The reason I couldn’t scream, wail, or smash the coffin in rage… was because the person saying this was Ernhardt.
I quietly put down what I was holding.
I endured and endured, but I couldn’t withstand the final part of the service. I didn’t have the luxury to be ashamed of my tears, and the strength left my limbs.
I collapsed and sobbed. The scent of freshly dug earth touching the tip of my nose was so sorrowful and heartbreaking that I could not bear it.