You Were My Sl*ve - Chapter 84

‘I’ll have to kill them all if I want to be king.’

Naser, Shattiv, Rak… all six of his brothers were still alive. As long as they lived, the throne would never be his.

‘First, cross the border. I’ll figure it out from there. At least I still have a chance.’

He smirked bitterly at the thought. There was a time when throwing himself into a civil war wouldn’t have seemed like an opportunity, let alone a stroke of luck.

Just as he resumed his steps, a vicious barking echoed through the dark forest.

Kang! Kang!

Kazan froze and glanced over his shoulder. In the distance, flickering torchlights bobbed through the trees—pursuers. He immediately turned and ran.

For a split second, he considered veering west. But no, the barking came from the west too.

‘Did they already surround me? Where do I go?’

The east? No, there was the wide lake he and Elona used to visit. There was no good place to hide there. He had no choice but to keep running north.

And then he reached the edge.

“Ah…”

His heart sank as he found himself staring down the sheer face of a cliff. It was far too steep, with no ledges to climb down, just a jagged abyss yawning beneath him.

He turned back, but it was too late. A black hound sprang from the undergrowth, snarling as it lunged at him.

Kazan instinctively tried to flee, but the beast clamped down on his forearm, teeth sinking deep into his flesh.

“Argh…!”

He gritted his teeth, stifling the scream threatening to escape his throat. But it was pointless. The sound of footsteps grew closer. Moments later, four or five knights emerged from the shadows, their armor gleaming in the torchlight.

Kazan lay on the ground, struggling with the hound as the knights surrounded him. He looked up at them, his breathing ragged and his left arm drenched in blood.

“Ah, the northern woods? Not bad, for a filthy slave,” one of the knights chuckled as he stepped forward.

Kazan’s jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Antonio…”

“Enough. Come here, Reaper.”

Antonio whistled sharply, and the hound released Kazan’s arm, trotting obediently back to its master. Kazan clutched his bleeding arm as he rose to his feet, his back to the cliff’s edge. His red eyes glared at the crown prince with a feral intensity, but Antonio only laughed.

“Look at you. What a scene! Anyone would think you were the tragic hero of some grand tale. But no, you’re just a slave—a worthless insect pretending to be something more.”

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“I checked every corner on my way from the west,” Antonio said, grinning maliciously. “The prison was empty. It wasn’t hard to guess where you’d run off to, was it?”

Was Kazan always destined to be caught like this? He let out a dry, almost bitter laugh. Antonio’s expression darkened, irritated by Kazan’s calm demeanor.

“What’s so funny, dead man?” Antonio hissed, unsheathing his sword. His green eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure.

“Come on, fight me!”

Antonio thrust his blade lazily toward Kazan, taunting him. He didn’t plan to kill him right away; no, that would be too easy. He wanted to play with him first. Kazan sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blade. They were near the cliff’s edge, but not close enough to fall—not yet. And Kazan had no weapon.

Antonio’s confidence grew. He saw no threat.

“Coward! Fight me, slave!”

The moment Antonio lunged forward to stab Kazan’s shoulder, Kazan twisted his body at the last second. Antonio’s sword missed its mark and plunged into the air, leaving him wide open.

Kazan seized the opportunity and delivered a powerful punch to Antonio’s face.

“Ugh!”

Antonio’s head snapped to the side, and he stumbled, his body dangerously close to the cliff’s edge. Panicked, he tried to regain his balance, but Kazan was already on top of him. Kazan raised his fist again, his crimson eyes blazing with fury.

Antonio stared up at him, momentarily frozen in fear. His breath caught in his throat.

“Stop!”

“Get off him!”

The knights rushed forward, yanking Kazan off Antonio just in time. They looked bewildered, struggling to hide their shock. How had the unarmed slave managed to overpower the armed prince?

“Dammit!”

Antonio scrambled to his feet, grabbing his sword with a snarl. His face was swollen and dirty, his rage barely contained. He spat a curse and gestured for the knights to drag Kazan toward the edge of the cliff.

“Bring him here!”

They forced Kazan to his knees at the cliff’s edge. He didn’t resist, glaring up at Antonio with a smoldering intensity. Kazan cursed himself silently for not hitting harder—he should have thrown him off the cliff when he had the chance.

Antonio approached him, his footsteps slow and deliberate. For the first time, their eyes were level. Antonio smirked in satisfaction.

“You should’ve been at the trial today. It was quite the spectacle. After all, I’m the one who reported you.”

“Elona… what did she say?”

“That little princess?” Antonio chuckled, savoring Kazan’s anguish. “She said you seduced her, the foolish slave that you are. Claimed you got too close. Honestly, it’s her fault for getting involved with someone like you. But don’t worry, I took it upon myself to protect the royal family’s dignity.”

Kazan’s heart sank. He wanted to deny it, to convince himself that Antonio was lying. Even after hearing Zerox’s warning, he had clung to the hope that Elona would never betray him. But deep down, he knew the truth.

Antonio was telling the truth.

Kazan exhaled slowly, lowering his head. The weight of her betrayal crashed down on him, filling the hollow space in his chest with cold, bitter disappointment.

“Normally, we allow a condemned man to say his last words,” Antonio sneered, his face twisted in a cruel grin. “But we’re not in an execution hall, are we? So we’ll skip the formalities.”

Antonio raised his sword, his swollen face breaking into a wicked smile.

“Goodbye, slave.”

The sword plunged into Kazan’s chest, slicing through flesh and muscle until it reached his heart. The searing pain spread like wildfire. The blade pulled free, leaving a gaping wound that spilled blood onto the cold earth.

Kazan’s vision blurred as darkness crept into the edges of his consciousness. He barely registered Antonio’s boot pressing against his shoulder.

“Enjoy the fall,” Antonio whispered as he shoved him over the edge.

The knights released Kazan’s arms, and his body tumbled into the abyss.

For a brief moment, there was only the sound of the wind rushing past him. Then, a sickening thud echoed through the night as his body hit the rocks below.

Antonio sheathed his sword and dusted off his clothes, smiling in satisfaction. His midnight hunt had come to an end.

*

“And that was how his second heart was broken,” the god of Lu said with a calm detachment.

Elona, however, couldn’t breathe, her mind spinning in shock. The god’s tale wasn’t just a story—it was a glimpse into Kazan’s memories. Every vivid image, every sharp pang of pain, felt as if it were her own heart being pierced.

‘My brother… did that to Kazan?’

“Your brother was certain that Kazan had died. Of course, he would be—Kazan truly did die that day.”

That explained why Antonio had been so stunned when he saw King Sindar. He had driven a sword through Kazan’s heart, yet here Kazan stood, alive and well.

“Child, this is hurting you too much. Shall I stop here?” The god’s voice grew gentle with concern.

Elona shook her head fiercely.

‘No! Please… I need to know everything. I’ve lived all this time knowing nothing.’

The god waited for her to calm down before continuing.

“The reason his third heart was broken…”

*

Three days into his search for Elona, deep in the endless desert…

Kazan trudged forward, leading his exhausted horse through the sand. The once-proud desert steed was spent, having carried him across the dunes without rest. Kazan himself was no better off—his body heavy with fatigue, his lips parched, his vision blurring in the blinding sun.

“Haaah…”

He uncapped his waterskin and drank the last drop. Judging by the length of the shadows, it was nearing midday. The sand hadn’t yet reached its most unbearable heat, but in an hour or two, the scorching ground would be impossible to cross.

The shifting dunes made it futile to seek permanent shade. The only thing he could do was find a temporary reprieve and force himself to rest.

But Elona… Elona was somewhere out there, dying in this very desert.

“Elona…”

His voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible. He had long since lost the strength to shout her name. Tilting his head back, Kazan stared at the merciless sun.

He had no intention of surviving without her. There were only a few months left of his life anyway—a single year granted by the last remnants of his shattered hearts. If Elona wasn’t in that time, those remaining days were meaningless.

I can hold on… I won’t die from something like this.

His hand rested on his chest—the same chest that had been pierced and broken so many times before. Now, there were no hearts from Lu left inside him. Only the last, fragile heart that was entirely his own.

Suddenly, the wind shifted. Kazan turned, watching the tracks he had left behind vanish beneath the sand as the wind erased them in a swirl of golden grains.

He recalled what Tortan had once said to him.