Chapter 104: Candlelight and Cages
The stairs were long, likely stretching all the way to the underground.
At the bottom was a dark, cave-like space. Tenby gave a strange knock—an irregular rhythm—and it must have been some kind of code.
The door opened from the inside, and the soft orange glow of candlelight spilled into the darkness.
The room beyond wasn’t very big. Around a long wooden table were several chairs, and in the back, there was a cushioned bench.
Three men were already inside and they all turned to glare sharply at Dominic and the others.
Sensing danger, Dominic instinctively stepped in front of Shiao Yi to shield him and reached for his sword.
Tenby raised a hand and gave the men a smile.
The tense mood in the room eased, but the men’s eyes now examined Dominic with a cold, blunt curiosity, as if trying to figure out what kind of man he was.
When Dominic, almost automatically, picked Shiao Yi up again, the men’s tension visibly dropped even further.
Tenby sighed heavily and covered his face with one hand, clearly embarrassed.
"What’s this? Are they father and son? Or brothers? Overprotective big brother, maybe?"
"Tenby, who is this weirdo you brought in?"
"He had this sharp, powerful aura at first, like someone dangerous... but now? Kinda disappointing, isn’t he?"
Tenby, looking tired, so he motioned for everyone to sit down.
They all took seats around the table.
The three men sat across from Dominic, keeping a bit of distance.
Tenby sat between them.
Naturally, Dominic had Shiao Yi sitting on his lap.
As Dominic held Shiao Yi tightly in his arms, he silently glared at the three men across from him.
Their expressions quickly turned pale.
"Captain Dominic, please stop staring like that. It’s scary," Tenby said, trying to lighten the mood. "These three men are on our side. They’re supporters of the Royal Restoration."
Tenby introduced them and the three men let out surprised gasps.
"Captain Dominic? Don’t tell me—the one from Rosaria?"
"You mean that Iron Knight?"
Dominic nodded silently. He hadn’t expected his name to be known even here in Dalmasca.
"You’re pretty famous, Dominic," Shiao Yi whispered softly from his arms.
"Hmph, it’s probably just a bunch of nasty rumors," Dominic replied. "To Dalmasca, I’m an enemy."
The three men from Dalmasca kept glancing at him and whispering among themselves.
"This is the first time I’ve seen him in person. He’s just as handsome as the rumors say."
"They say he’s the best knight in all of Rosaria."
"I heard his magical power is unmatched across the continent."
"They say he can kill instantly with a touch—strongest knight ever."
"Tenby, why is he here? How do you even know him?"
"I always admired him! Do you think he’d shake my hand?"
"Who’s the kid? Why is he holding him like that?"
"If Tenby brought him here... then maybe he’s joining us?"
"That would be incredible. With him, we’re a thousand times stronger!"
"They’re saying a lot of things about you, Dominic," Shiao Yi whispered again.
"..."
Dominic cleared his throat and looked toward Tenby. "Can we move on? I need to know exactly what’s going on before I can decide what to do next."
"Y-yes! Sorry about that!" Tenby jumped a little, clearly flustered.
"Let me reintroduce everyone properly. This is Dominic de Beaumont, captain of the Rosaria Kingdom’s knights, and his aide, Shiao Yi. And over here—"
"I’m Gordon!"
"I’m Campbell!"
"I’m Murray!"
The three men stood up quickly and placed their hands over their chests in a formal knight’s salute.
Their eyes were shining—though it was probably just the candlelight reflecting in them.
"Ah, yes. I’m Dominic de Beaumont. Nice to meet you," Dominic replied, a little awkwardly.
"Yes, sir!" the three men responded in perfect unison.
Dominic thought to himself, Is this really okay? These are the Royal Restoration supporters? Are they seriously the ones we’re supposed to rely on?
...
A room surrounded by white walls with only a single iron bars window exist.
The only comfort was the blue sky seen through the slats of the wooden shutters and the gaps between the bars. Far off in the distance, a bird flew by.
Jircniv wondered why he had no wings.
He brought his gaze back inside the room.
There was a wooden table and just one chair.
On the desk by the window, the books were stacked.
They had been read so many times that even the parchment covers were worn thin.
At the far end of the room, away from the window, was a hard bed.
On the opposite side, behind a door, there was a bathroom with a bathtub and a wash area.
That was the entire world Jircniv was allowed to have.
He wasn’t exactly living in hardship. Meals were provided. The room was cleaned every two days. He had clean clothes, fresh sheets—there was nothing inconvenient about simply living here.
But still, he had been trapped in this closed-off world for fifteen years. Fifteen long years without ever stepping under the sun.
When Jircniv was five years old, a notice arrived at the estate of his grandfather, Count Dunrossil. It was four years after the new government had taken power. The notice hadn’t gone just to his grandfather—every influential noble family received the same message all at once.
The government demanded that all sons between the ages of five and twenty be sent to the capital to serve as officers.
However, everyone knew what that really meant—they were hostages. The government locked them up as a way to control and silence the powerful nobles.
Any noble who refused to send their child was arrested on the spot, stripped of their status, and destroyed without question.
The republic led by a military faction, began to show its true face—a government built on fear and oppression.
In the beginning, there had been twenty-two children held like Jircniv.
They lived on the same floor in similar rooms and the wide common area was used as a salon where they could meet and talk.
But slowly, the others were taken away—some returned to their homes, others assigned to roles as soldiers or knights.