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Urich spent his time lying in bed. The fight in the banquet hall was dismissed as a simple misunderstanding and was passed without much consequence, thanks to Varca's overwhelming authority that no noble dared to protest.
"Trying to cover it up was quite a headache for me, too," Varca grumbled. He visited Urich almost daily.
‘Urich’s condition isn’t good.’
Three days had passed since the incident, but Urich's complexion had only darkened.
‘In terms of treatment, we’ve done everything we could. Now, his fate is in Lou’s hands.’
Varca smiled, hiding his gloom.
“I'm sorry. I thought that with me gone, Samikan’s son would try to harm Louyan instead.”
“You dumbass, how would he even know that Louyan is your son?”
If Louyan’s birth had spread to the west, countless warriors would have come looking for him by now. If Urich had been a bit more cautious and thoughtful, none of this would have happened.
‘I've lost my touch.’
Urich, feeling he wasn’t the same as before in many ways, looked at his hands. Meeting a spirited young man like Karcha made him feel even more deflated.
‘Ferzen and Sven were active warriors until they were nothing but wrinkles…’
Urich’s prime had burned more fiercely than anyone else's, and perhaps that’s why his firewood had burned out just as quickly.
‘Am I already washed up? Hah…’
A hollow laugh escaped him. He no longer had the sharpness and wit he once possessed.
‘How depressing.’
Urich sat up, clutching his side.
“I heard your wounds won’t heal very easily this time. Even the invincible Urich is just a human after all, huh?”
“Of course, I’m human. What else could I be?”
“You didn’t seem very human in the past.”
Urich and Varca reminisced about various past events, and time flew by as they talked about old times. However, Varca soon got up to leave.
“I have to get going. Duke Lungell...
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