An Old Man Facing Death

The problem seemed to have once again reached a dead end. Perhaps they could launch a war of extermination against the Elf race to change the outcome of the future, but His Majesty did not have enough time left to sustain such a war. His Highness might not be as resolute as His Majesty.

Both sides fell silent. No one spoke again.

Azuk had only wanted to save his lover from this disaster. He no longer had the courage to face ten thousand years of loneliness again.

Once he returned to the Empire, he would take his lover straight into seclusion somewhere and never appear in the world again.

The Masked Man hurried to Carlos's palace. Carlos was already a dying old man. He had almost stopped concerning himself with state affairs. Sitting on his bed and leaning against it, he gazed out the window. Even the winter sunlight seemed to signify death.

"Your Majesty."

"What is it, Sword?"

"Your Majesty, would you consider becoming a lich? As long as enough people can be provided, you can prolong your life for a while longer."

"No need, Sword. I have lived long enough. I have no regrets left in this life, and I can calmly accept my death. There is nothing worth struggling over." Carlos gently shook his head.

"But the Empire needs you."

"This world has never stopped turning just because someone was gone. It will be the same without me. If young lives must be used to sustain an old man like me who is about to die, would that not make me into the sort of person I despise most? I do not want that! Sword, do you remember when we first met?"

"I do. You were helping people you did not know at all."

"Then do you