* * *

Ben Neubra, representative of the anti-monarchist faction and Duke of the Neubra Kingdom, cautiously voiced his concern. Yet, he couldn’t entirely mask the irritation mingling with his tone.

The proposal presented by Ketlan was far too risky.

Given the current tensions between the monarchists and the anti-monarchists, even the smallest spark could ignite a raging fire.

“Indeed,” Ketlan replied, sipping his tea leisurely. “While you may be sharpening your own sword, who do you think is already the sharpest?”

Ketlan was well aware that the Hand of the Void had been utterly destroyed, but he didn’t see the need to disclose this information just yet.

Thanks to Hamel’s advice, Ketlan had the means to manipulate Ben Neubra, and he intended to use it to his advantage.

‘This is quite amusing,’ Ketlan thought, suppressing a chuckle.

Hamel’s words echoed in his mind.

Who would dare to walk into the kingdom alone to negotiate?

Ben, who was speaking with him now, would probably find it an unimaginable approach.

Ben asked, his tone betraying discomfort.

“To me, it doesn’t seem like a bad strategy,” Ketlan said smoothly. “The Neubra Kingdom’s external image is already tarnished, but reputations can be rebuilt. The goal you must achieve, however, is an opportunity that may never come again.”

Ketlan skillfully preyed on Ben’s sense of urgency.

Ben Neubra was the perfect ally–obedient, useful, and loyal. He was a man who listened well, spoke carefully, and acted decisively.

Most importantly, he was ambitious–a trait Ketlan could easily manipulate.

“Even if the counterfeit is exposed, it could still work in your favor.”

Ben asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Ben’s intellect, while not extraordinary, was sharp enough to anticipate potential pitfalls.

“You’ll have more than enough means to deflect any blame,” Ketlan reassured him. “Instead, that person will be filled with deeper fears. Fear is a powerful force. It blinds people, even to their own allies.”

This was indeed a fact.

Ketlan distracted Ben with mixed words of truth and lies.

Pleased with the words, Ketlan smiled.

“Have we not already formed an alliance? For the sake of peace, after all.”

Their goals were aligned, and Ketlan was determined to keep Ben firmly in his grasp.

Once their conversation ended, Ketlan disconnected the communication device and turned to the Fifth Prince, Cetyl, with an apologetic look.

“My apologies, my son. An urgent matter demanded my attention.”

“Your Majesty, do you truly trust that man?” Cetyl asked cautiously.

“Cetyl.”

“Yes, Father?”

“The scope of trust must exist solely among those within the empire and for the benefit of the empire. Therefore, I do not regard that relationship as deeply meaningful.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, where were we?”

“We were discussing the mansion where Hamel will stay. I’ve prepared several options since I wasn’t sure of his preferences.”

“Oh, let’s see them, then.”

Ketlan was already amused, imagining how Hamel would react upon seeing the mansion that would suddenly appear.

“However, Father. Just one mansion…”

“Do you think my reach is so limited?” Ketlan replied, smiling. “The land is already secured. With eastern nobles being arrested one after another, there will be plenty of vacant land available.”

The chosen land, located near the sea and close to the eastern center, was already promised to Hamel.

* * *

“Damn it!”

The man tore at his hair in frustration before sweeping everything off his desk in a fit of rage.

“Y-Your Majesty?” came a hesitant voice from outside.

“Do not let anyone in! No one! I’ll punish anyone who disturbs me!”

Cough cough.

After shouting, the man let out a rough cough.

Everything had fallen apart.

He had been so close–just a little further, and the empire would have been his.

‘Curse you, Nevast. I won’t die alone!’

The destruction began with Nevast’s sudden strike.

No.

It had started with the warlock who appeared at the frontier. That damned warlock had ruined everything.

Yet, the warlock’s identity remained a mystery.

‘If it weren’t for him… If it weren’t for him!’

Distorting his face in anger, the man twisted and crumpled the paper in his hand as if he were taking out his frustration on the warlock.

“Norvion Neubra.”

Norvion flinched as he heard a voice behind him. His hand stopped in mid-stride. Then he let out a long sigh. He had been hearing voices lately.

They said it was due to accumulated fatigue, but Norvion knew better–it was because of that wretched Ben Neubra.

That traitor had shaken his legitimacy, clung to his throne, and undermined him at every turn.

‘None of them are worth trusting. Not a single one.’

Norvion felt as though he wanted to kill them all.

He needed to uncover the traces of the expelled Hand of the Void, deal with Nevast, and confront Ben Neubra from within.

The headaches and hallucinations were relentless.

Crack.

Norvion froze as he bit into the pill lying on his desk.

“A guest has arrived, and you’re not even going to greet them? Where are your manners?”

Lucion chuckled, casually flicking Norvion’s cheek through the darkness.

“These meds aren’t working. I’ll need to change these meds to something else.”

Norvion dismissed it as another hallucination, clutching his head as he staggered toward his bed.

“More boring than I expected. I thought there’d be more tears and whining.”

Lucion raised his hand and struck Norvion on the back of the head.

Thwack!

Before Norvion could collapse, the darkness caught him.

Lucion’s mask turned a shade of blue as he looked down at Norvion’s puzzled expression.

The earlier commotion had ensured no one would come to check on them.

‘I’ve always wanted to hit that guy on the back of the head. Today’s the day,’ Lucion thought smugly.

[Why not hit him again?]

[No.]

Bethel immediately refuted Russell’s suggestion.

[Just hit him enough to avoid killing him. Or better yet, how about cutting off his wrists? Isn’t he the one responsible for all this mess?]

Bethel’s voice seethed with anger.

Norvion was the one responsible for the incident that had ruined Lucion’s body.

Despite seeing that man, Lucion maintained his composure. How much pain had he endured to get to this point?

–That’s right! Ratta should be saying not to hit him, but I hate that man! Hmph, hmph!

Even Ratta, huffing and snorting, turned her back on Norvion entirely.

Lucion was relieved he hadn’t brought Hume along. If Hume were here, Norvion would’ve already lost his head.

“It’s fine,” Lucion said calmly.

[It’s not fine!] Russell snapped, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t want it to end here.”

Norvion needed to lose more than Lucion had. He needed to suffer more. To live the rest of his life in agony, writhing in pain.

“W-wait…”

Norvion tried to speak, but Lucion didn’t allow it.

Darkness surged forward, silencing him completely.

“I’ll deal with your wrists later. For now, your limbs will remain intact–until the picture is complete.”

Fear flashed in Norvion’s eyes, and Lucion almost wanted to laugh at him, taking off his mask.

But instead, he made sure to show Norvion who he should fear the most.

“Right. I am a warlock.”

Swish!

The darkness pierced through Norvion’s head effortlessly.

“Now, shall we begin?”

Seeing the darkness flicker in Norvion’s eyes, Lucion felt excited as if he were witnessing a firework display heading towards its finale.

* * *

“Brother.”

As soon as Lucion returned, he called for Heint, who had been waiting under the pretense of guarding against any intrusions.

Startled by Lucion’s sudden appearance, Heint missed his chance to respond.

Though he had seen others travel long distances in short moments, watching Lucion teleport like that still left him momentarily dazed.

“I have a request,” Lucion said.

“A… a request?”

Heint unconsciously swallowed a dry gulp.

“First, how about changing your clothes and lying down before you talk, young master?”

Hume extended both hands toward Lucion.

Lucion still needed some time to stabilize.

[Let’s visit the pilgrimage route before heading to the Sea of Death. It’ll be better that way.]

Russell mentioned what Lucion had been thinking all along.

[I completely agree,] Bethel added.

–Ratta agrees too!

Bethel nodded, while Ratta raised her paw.

Heint, puzzled by Ratta’s strange behavior, rolled his eyes briefly but remained patient, petting the adorably cute Ratta while Lucion changed his clothes.

Before being nudged toward the bed, Lucion handed Heint a document–Norvion’s confession.

“You actually brought it?”

“Would I dare lie to His Majesty? Or are you going to accuse me of being dangerous again, brother?” Lucion teased.

The playful remark turned Heint’s face pale.

“No! I said I wouldn’t doubt you again!”

“It’s just a joke,” Lucion replied with a faint smile.

“Ha… Seriously, though, this is nerve-wracking. If this keeps up, I’ll start having nightmares about this,” Heint muttered, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

“Anyway, I have a request. Feel free to listen while you look that over.”

Lucion paused, waiting patiently as Heint sat down to review the document.

With Ratta’s remarkable ability to sniff out treasure, along with the help of Russell and Bethel, who could move freely anywhere, Lucion had uncovered a secret vault while searching Norvion’s room.

He took everything, knowing that leaving it behind would only benefit others.

As he regretted not bringing along the nimble-fingered Hume, Lucion stumbled upon several classified documents.

“These are secret records about my past.”

“…”

Heint was so stunned that he couldn’t even take the documents Lucion handed him.

Although they already had some idea, both Russell and Bethel’s expressions darkened further.

“I assume Carson has told you that I was taken to the Neubra Kingdom and left… broken.”

Bethel’s concern deepened at those words. How could Lucion speak so casually about such a traumatic event?

In truth, Lucion wasn’t softening the blow at all.

“…”

Heint remained silent, his heart heavy. Even Carson had avoided discussing this matter in detail.

“You can present this as a gesture of goodwill toward Cronia or frame it as a gift to His Majesty, who may already be watching how my father approaches this issue. Personally, I’d suggest the latter.”

“Lucion…”

“There’s still one of those bastards alive, evading my father’s blade. They’ve hidden themselves in Neubra.”

Lucion struggled to keep his emotions in check, feeling the searing flames of hatred reignite in his heart–flames he thought had long since died out.

Since the kidnapping, Lucion had never truly been happy.

He hadn’t even been able to smile.

He often wondered why he had to breathe, why he had to eat. He envied the falling petals and broken leaves that seemed so free.

He had longed to escape from his tormenting body.

‘Endure it. Just hold on.’

Lucion clenched his eyes shut for a moment.

His negative energy had already grown, rising dangerously close to the 2 o’clock position because of Hotram.

— Lu… Lucion! Don’t hold it in! Shout as loud as you need to! Ratta will shout with you!

Ratta gripped Lucion’s trembling hand tightly.

Ha.

Lucion let out a deep exhale.

“Brother.”

His voice, heavy with emotion, called out to Heint.

“This was planned from the very beginning.”

Hume’s eyes widened at those words.

“The knight who betrayed me was from the East. From the start, he had been working with Twilo Sprikado–who is already dead. It was all premeditated.”

Lucion felt a burning desire to reveal this truth to everyone.

To his brother, who had once taken him to the fortress wall on the frontier–a place every Cronian visited.

To his father, who had been away at the time.

Even his sister, who was ensnared by magic, couldn’t visit the fortress.

None of them deserved to carry guilt.

Everything that had happened to him as a child was the fault of those bastards who had dared to covet the Empire and sought to control the frontier.

“These scum must meet their end by my father’s hand. No… it doesn’t matter who does it. I just want this incident buried in the past, once and for all. Please, help me put it to rest.”

Lucion’s face contorted as he clutched the documents tightly.

And then, a realization struck him. He had never been at fault for his mother’s death.

Why had he forgotten that?

Perhaps he had erased the memory. But seeing his mother’s name, Renia, and the words carriage accident written in the documents brought the memory flooding back.

“The carriage accident that happened when I was little…”

At Lucion’s words, Heint flinched.

“Brother, did you not know about it? You and my brother, Carson, were Knight Academy classmates, right?