CHAPTER 421: CH 421: A SECOND CHANCE - PART 2

In the middle of his overflowing duties and mounting pressure, Kyle made his way to the imperial palace.

His expression was calm as always, but his mind was already far ahead—calculating, planning, and preparing.

The palace guards saluted as he passed, and soon he was ushered into the grand study where Crown Prince Mikalius awaited him.

The moment Kyle stepped through the doors, Mikalius threw his head back and let out a booming laugh, rising from his chair.

"Kyle Armstrong! You sly bastard. You’ve turned the world upside down while I was still sipping wine and watching nobles bicker."

He said, clapping his hands with genuine delight.

Kyle gave a nod, though his face remained unreadable.

Mikalius grinned wider.

"Do you even know what you’ve done? The Grand Temple can barely crawl now. All their prayers, their threats, their divine speeches—useless. The people are turning their backs on the gods, and toward the throne. Toward me. With your help, this empire could finally control the entire world."

"I’m not interested in that. This empire, or the world—rule them if you must. I won’t stop you. But I have other things I must attend to."

Kyle said curtly.

The prince’s grin faded, replaced by a raised brow.

"What do you mean?"

"I’ll be leaving for a time. There’s a journey I must take. Something... personal. I’ll be leaving Bruce and Melissa with you, and you’ll have a way to contact me if an emergency arises. But unless it’s urgent, I won’t return for a while."

Kyle said.

Mikalius narrowed his eyes.

"That sounds too much like goodbye."

"It’s not. But it’s not negotiable, either. I always settle my debts, and now is the time."

Kyle replied.

The crown prince sighed heavily, but after a long pause, he leaned back in his chair.

"Then go. Do what you must. Just don’t take too long. I may be sitting on a throne, but I’m not so naive as to think I can keep this nation afloat without your hand steadying the foundation."

Kyle gave a small nod of gratitude and turned to leave.

Before heading out, however, he made one more stop—one he had been putting off for too long. The medical tent.

Inside, the scent of herbs and mana-soaked bandages hung thick in the air.

Rows of injured soldiers lay quietly under the care of healers, but Kyle’s eyes were locked on the far corner where Silvy lay—still and pale, her chest rising only slightly with every breath.

The healer attending her bowed when Kyle approached.

"She’s worsening. We’ve tried every known healing technique, even elven mana attunement... but nothing works. Her soul is unraveling, and her body won’t hold much longer. I’m sorry, my lord, but this is beyond us."

The doctor said in a hushed tone.

Kyle looked at Silvy’s fragile form, a shadow of the firebrand girl who once stood beside him so fearlessly. His jaw clenched, and he turned to the doctor with a cold edge in his voice.

"Step back."

The healer froze.

"But—"

"I said step back. I’ll handle this now."

Understanding that he could not argue, the healer retreated without another word.

Kyle walked to Silvy’s side and knelt beside her. He rested a hand gently on her chest, eyes glowing faintly with mana.

Her condition was worse than he expected. The damage done wasn’t just physical—it had reached into the metaphysical, disrupting the divine core of her existence.

Her essence had been touched by something not of this world.

But Kyle didn’t flinch. He took a deep breath, and in the next moment, space around him warped slightly. A sudden burst of mana surged, and then—

He vanished, taking Silvy with him.

The inside of the medical tent went quiet, with only the startled gasps of nearby healers left behind.

Where Kyle had stood was now empty air, and the faint echo of a pulse—something ancient, something alien—lingered behind for just a second longer.

Wherever he had gone, it was not anywhere nearby.

Not the empire.

Not even this realm.

A heartbeat later, Kyle reappeared deep within a cavern bathed in an eerie blue glow.

This was a place known to none alive—a hidden fragment of the world tucked between realms, where time moved sluggishly and mana flowed undisturbed.

The air thrummed with energy, and the very ground resonated beneath his feet.

He stepped forward, Silvy still in his arms, her body limp and cold against his chest. Before him stood a monolith—ancient, cracked, and etched with runes lost to history.

It pulsed faintly as if recognizing his presence.

"This place...You should never have needed to come here, Silvy."

Kyle whispered, kneeling before the monolith.

He laid her down on the soft stone floor and placed both hands beside her temples.

The flow of mana from the monolith began to respond, swirling around them in slow, deliberate spirals. Silvy’s hair lifted in the breeze of raw magic.

Kyle closed his eyes and focused.

"I’m not asking for salvation. Just a chance."

He said softly to the runes.

The mana spiraled faster, pulling threads of divine power, dark remnants of the god of justice’s curse, from her body.

Each thread resisted, screaming soundlessly as it was forced to retreat. Silvy’s back arched as if in pain, but Kyle pressed a hand to her forehead and whispered.

"Hold on."

Bit by bit, the black tendrils were drawn out. Kyle’s own mana bled into the process, acting as both shield and conduit.

His veins burned, his breathing grew heavy, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

The monolith cracked further with a thunderous rumble, and Kyle’s vision blurred. The entire cavern shook—but the worst of the corruption had now been severed.

When it finally calmed, Kyle collapsed beside her, drenched in sweat.

Silvy was still pale—but her breathing was stronger, her pulse steadier. Her body was no longer rejecting mana. She had a chance now.

Kyle lay on his back beside her, staring up at the cavern ceiling.

"That’s your second life, Silvy. I won’t be able to give you a third."

He murmured.

And then, for the first time in many years, Kyle closed his eyes—not to meditate, not to calculate—but simply to rest.

______

When the news of Kyle’s sudden disappearance reached the camp, Bruce was the first to storm into the command tent, fists clenched. Melissa was already there, staring at the map with a quiet intensity.

"He’s really gone?"

Bruce asked, his voice low.

Melissa didn’t turn.

"Yes. He took Silvy and left without a word."

Bruce exhaled sharply.

"How are you holding up?"

Melissa’s grip on the table tightened, but her voice was steady.

"I trust him. Our young master isn’t reckless. If he left, it means he had a plan."

Bruce studied her for a moment.

"Even so, doesn’t it bother you?"

She finally turned to face him, her eyes clear.

"Of course it does. I want to be at his side, like always. But more than that, I want to protect what he left behind. If he entrusted us with this camp, these people... then we’ll make sure they’re safe. That’s our job now."

Bruce nodded, his expression relaxing.

"You’re right. He always picks the hardest road. Least we can do is keep things steady until he gets back."

Melissa smiled faintly.

"And he will come back. I believe in him more than anything."