Chapter 52
Duchess Winter and the Young Lord have gone missing. On the final day of the hunting tournant, a grand event that had already captivated the empire, an extraordinary series of incidents unfolded.
First, Sergei Bled ascended to the Marquisate of Bled and was appointed Chancellor at the sa ti. Second, the Imperial Princess was poisoned. And yet, what overshadowed even these shocking events was the disappearance of Duchess Winter and the Young Lord, who were said to have fallen off a cliff in the Black Forest.
The last person to see them was none other than Duke Winter himself. When he erged before the people in a state of unprecedented disarray and reported the incident to the Emperor, news of their disappearance spread like wildfire. It was such a montous event that even the Imperial Princess vomiting blood after being poisoned was pushed into the background.
Duke Winter, after informing the Emperor of his intent to search the Black Forest, ford a search party using his own knights. That day, for the first ti, people laid eyes on the infamous Black Knights.
Upon seeing the Duke, dark shadows cast under his eyes, so murmured among themselves.
Could it be that the Duke himself…?
But others quickly dismissed the notion as absurd.
Isn’t the Young Lord missing as well? If only the Duchess were gone, he would have conducted a cursory search and withdrawn.
Hearing this, the skeptics nodded in agreent.
Yes, that makes sense. There's no reason for the Duke to be so desperate to find her otherwise.
— — —
The rusted door groaned open, releasing a long, chilling screech. The basent was oppressively damp, likely due to the continuous rainfall of the past few days. As they stepped across a puddle of stagnant rainwater mixed with blood, thick and sticky droplets splattered in all directions.
“You’ve arrived.”
Johann, sleeves rolled up and wiping sweat from his brow, instinctively took a step back at Edmund’s arrival. With a heavy sigh, Edmund slumped into the chair Johann had prepared.
Click. Ssshh—
Apart from the distant screams echoing from sowhere beyond, the basent was silent. The sharp sound of a cigarette being lit rang out starkly in the still air.
Johann closed his eyes for a brief mont, feeling montarily dizzy from the thick scent of tobacco that accompanied Edmund’s every movent. When he reopened them, he saw Edmund taking a long drag before exhaling a slow stream of smoke.
It had been days since they last t. Edmund, injured and worn, looked eerily similar to how he had when Daphne disappeared a month ago. Dark circles heavily shadowed his eyes, his lips were parched and cracked, his exhaustion so deep that his face had grown gaunter, his features sharper.
If Johann’s suspicions were correct, Edmund hadn’t slept for days. And he was certain, this sleeplessness had begun right after Daphne and Damian went missing. The deeper reason for this was clear…
“What have you found?”
Johann was wrenched from his thoughts by Edmund’s question. Through the hazy smoke, Edmund’s face ca into view, his gaze sharp. Johann lowered his eyes slightly.
“We’re still working on it… but it’s no different from yesterday.”
The two individuals Edmund had handed over to Johann had already been rendered useless long ago – their tongues and teeth removed. Even if they were given sothing to write with, they couldn’t form words, let alone letters. Ti was slipping away with nothing to show for it.
It was a difficult task from the start, which was why Edmund had entrusted it to Johann, who was still recovering from his own injuries. But there had been no progress. Perhaps Edmund hadn’t expected much. His expression remained unchanged at Johann’s report.
After a brief hesitation, Johann spoke again.
“I heard that the Madam stopped the Young Lord from losing control.”
Edmund, who had been staring into space, shifted his gaze to Johann.
“I also heard… that the Young Lord’s aura is the sa as Your Excellency’s.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
“The likelihood of the Madam surviving is low.”
Johann wasted no ti in getting to the point.
“Even if both of them miraculously survived the fall… the Madam…”
“Johann.”
Edmund’s voice was dangerously low. His words, thick with restrained emotion, barely pushed through clenched teeth.
“Shut your mouth.”
“...”
Johann, sensing the instability in Edmund’s deanor, imdiately fell silent.
“…Forgive . I spoke out of turn.”
“What about Nick?”
“He has yet to regain consciousness.”
Nick, who had been fighting Alec, collapsed as if on cue the mont Daphne and Damian fell off the cliff. Since then, he has remained unconscious. Johann rapped his knuckles lightly against the wall.
At that mont, as Edmund was about to rise from his seat—
“Cough…!”
One of the prisoners, previously limp, suddenly convulsed and spat out blood. Ergency aid was administered imdiately, but the amount of blood loss was severe. The man’s body trembled in sporadic seizures before turning eerily still.
“… He died from excessive bleeding.”
Just like that, another one slipped away, without revealing a single piece of information. Johann clenched his eyes shut. Edmund parted his lips as if to say sothing when—
“Ugh… Urgh…”
A weak groan broke the silence. Johann turned his head toward the sound. Beyond the open wall, Nick, still bound to a chair, had begun to stir. For the first ti in days, his eyes fluttered open.
“…Your Excellency?”
Nick’s unfocused gaze blinked sluggishly. He took in his surroundings before murmuring,
“What… happened…?”
Then, his voice abruptly cut off. A murky glow flickered in his chest. Suddenly, he let out a strangled scream, his body writhing in agony.
At the sa mont, Edmund felt a scorching heat against his palm. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a ring, one connected to Nick’s cursed black stone. The ring vibrated violently, growing hotter by the second.
At once, Edmund realized – the curse of the black stone was activating. If this continued, Nick’s heart would overheat and rupture.
“…Stop.”
Edmund whispered as he slipped the ring onto his finger. Imdiately, the dark energy swirling in Nick’s chest dissipated. Gasping for breath, Nick’s convulsions gradually subsided.
Edmund’s gaze shifted between Nick, who lay collapsed on the floor, and the man who had just bled out monts ago. Then, as if recalling sothing, he murmured to himself.
“…A ‘sorcerer.’”
“A sorcerer…”
Johann echoed the words in a hushed breath.
A practitioner of black magic – a bringer of curses. A sorcerer’s curse would only dissipate upon their death, just as Nick had regained clarity the mont the other prisoner perished.
Edmund knew of only one person who commanded a sorcerer. The one who set this entire series of events into motion.
“Sergei Bled…”
What exactly was his goal?
* * *
“Hmm.”
Sergei propped his chin on his hand as he gazed at the now-dark crystal orb.
[“Sergei Bled.”]
Perhaps because he had just been locking eyes with the deceased sorcerer, it almost felt as if he were facing Edmund himself. Sergei quietly observed the goosebumps rising on his forearm before leaning back against his chair.
It seed I had been discovered sooner than expected.
Even knowing this, Sergei’s expression remained unchanged. The only difference was the icy chill that now dominated his deanor. The ever-present smile that usually played at his lips had vanished without a trace, leaving his once-gentle features to turn cold in an instant.
‘Daphne…’
Divine power could suppress aura. However, for those with even the slightest divine power, aura was nothing short of poison. Daphne had endured the nauseating discomfort for a full five years. Though she carried the blood of the Bled family, she was a failure, born with only the barest speck of divine power, yet she suffered from aura sickness all the sa.
‘She doesn’t even realize it.’
That young beast had no clue. No idea that Daphne had been shielding his unstable existence with the ager divine power she could scrape together from her nearly empty reserves.
Knock, knock.
A light tapping at the door pulled Sergei from his thoughts.
“Lord Sergei. It’s Noah.”
“Co in.”
As he straightened his posture and slipped back into his usual, familiar smile, the door opened.
Noah was not alone.
“…Lord Sergei.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Sergei’s smile deepened as he looked at the person standing before him.
“Marinda. Ah, or should I call you Linda now?”
Even Sergei had been caught off guard by the sheer absurdity of this coincidence at first.
A few weeks ago, a blonde concubine had suddenly appeared, swiftly capturing the Emperor’s favor. Who would have thought that she was the very sa maid who had once worked in his household years ago?
Had Marinda not been one of the attendants who followed Daphne to the North, Sergei would never have rembered her at all.
The reason he had not recognized her imdiately was simple – her hair color was different. Once a re light brown, it now appeared much closer to true blonde than he had expected.
“Don’t think you’ve cornered just because of sothing as trivial as my past.”
If she truly didn’t believe she was in a precarious position, she wouldn’t have rushed here in a panic over a single note.
“It doesn’t matter what you say, Lord Sergei. His Majesty will listen to regardless.”
“I thought you were in love with Duke Winter.”
At Sergei’s question, Marinda’s shoulders flinched ever so slightly. It was a minuscule reaction, but there was no way Sergei would have missed it.
“I have no idea what you an. Is this why you summoned ? This is hardly the ti for you to be acting so carefree. His Majesty calls for every day. It’s only a matter of ti before I conceive the next Emperor, his heir after the firstborn.”
Even though the Crown Prince was still alive and well, Marinda spoke without hesitation. She ran a hand over her stomach, as if she were already carrying a child.
Sergei, watching her carefully, let out a soft chuckle.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of harming you.”
Then, he stood up.
“I just have sothing to confirm.”
For a fleeting mont, a crimson glint flickered in his light brown eyes. Before Marinda could react, Sergei reached out and seized her by the head. In that instant, both their eyes turned red.
Monts later, the eerie glow faded, and Sergei found himself staring blankly at Marinda, now unconscious and collapsed at his feet. Aside from the very last part, her mories from the past five years were intact. Even the spell was still in effect, keeping her madly in love with Edmund.
However—
Sergei, having discovered sothing, muttered in disbelief.
“…It doesn’t work?”
The spell had no effect on Edmund.
T/N: Marinda’s not dead? Why, author? Why?! What is actually Sergei’s problem? Daphne’s ager divine power or Edmund's strong aura or the possibility that Damian will be as strong as Edmund? Everyone’s just more evil than the other.
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