Chapter 155
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 155
“Shut up, you viper.”
First Prince Claude seethed, glaring at Cedric like a wild beast.
If not for the shackles on his hands and feet, he looked ready to pounce and tear Cedric’s throat out at any moment.
“As the master of this Empire, I command you. Unshackle me this instant and kneel. This is your final chance to be forgiven.”
“You certainly have a lot of ‘final’ chances. Is this the seventh one now?”
“Stop twisting my words and show some gratitude! It is only because I have had a change of heart that your opportunities have increased!”
“And once again, I must kick that opportunity away. I decline. Please, continue to rot in here.”
At Cedric’s sarcasm, Claude ground his teeth so hard they creaked.
It had been over half a year since he was first shackled, yet his fury showed no sign of subsiding.
Some might admire it as a display of indomitable will, but to Cedric, it was nothing of the sort.
It’s arrogance. The sheer arrogance that no one should ever dare to cross him.
Even though the tide had turned and hope had vanished, that look in Claude's eyes—believing himself to be the one and only master of the throne—was exhausting to behold.
Talking to a wall would be less frustrating than dealing with Claude.
Whether he sensed Cedric’s inner thoughts or not, Claude repeated the same dialogue as always.
“Do not forget. I have given you many chances. The moment your head is severed and hung upon the castle walls, you will regret today.”
“...Brother, I’m asking this in all sincerity: where does that confidence come from? It’s already over. There isn’t the slightest possibility of you making a comeback.”
“Possibility? Ridiculous. I am the eldest son of the Great Late Emperor and the rightful heir to the Empire. There was never any other choice but me, so what is this talk of ‘possibility’?”
Cedric pressed his fingers against his forehead to soothe a throbbing headache.
He could tell this wasn't just empty bravado; Claude truly believed what he was saying.
“So, you’re saying that if the current situation were known outside, the ministers would immediately drive me out and place you on the throne?”
“This Empire has endured for a thousand years. Even if the corrupt nobles supported you out of a desire for power, how could there not be ministers who still understand the path of righteousness?”
“Get a grip. Even Marquis Bernhardt supports me now. Who exactly are these ‘righteous’ ministers you speak of?”
“What!? Why would the Marquis...!”
The once-confident Claude widened his eyes at the news.
He looked as if he couldn't comprehend why the man would turn his back on him.
“What kind of trickery did you use this time, you viper!”
“It wasn’t trickery. The Marquis is simply fed up with you. If you had shown him even a shred of consideration, this wouldn't have happened.”
“Stop talking in circles and speak plainly!”
“...The fact that you cannot understand something so simple is exactly why you are unfit for the throne.”
Did the Marquis support Claude out of genuine loyalty? No. He supported him because Claude was stupider than Cedric and seemed easier to control.
But after nearly getting everyone killed by ignoring the Marquis’s advice during the rebellion suppression, the man had clearly had enough.
If you’re going to be stupid, you should at least be easy to manipulate. But you dance with your sword without knowing friend from foe, so of course the Marquis gave up on you.
Cedric decided to stop; talking further would only spike his irritation.
He hadn't come here for small talk, anyway.
“Forget it. Let’s get to the point. Do you intend to cooperate with me?”
“Cooperate? What kind of cooperation?”
“Duke Lucian is curious about whether you are alive or dead. He says he will dispatch a messenger, so you just need to step forward and say a few words about how well I am treating you.”
“Hilarious. Do you really think I would do that?”
“If you cooperate, I will remove the shackles. If you wish, I can even provide a few women to attend to you...”
Before he could finish, a glob of phlegm flew toward him with a disgusting sound.
Startled by the sudden action, Cedric narrowly managed to dodge it.
Claude clicked his tongue in disappointment, and Cedric’s face contorted in rage.
“...Fine. If you love the feel of those shackles so much, have it your way. I won’t be asking for your cooperation again.”
“And I won’t be giving you another chance to atone, either.”
Slam!
With Claude’s grating voice echoing behind him, Cedric slammed the door shut and stormed out.
At that moment, he vowed to himself: one day, he would make that face stain with terror and tears.
When the promised date arrived, Lucian did not hesitate to send the messenger.
Considering the turbulent times, the escort force was minimal, yet there was no risk of an ambush.
The entire Empire was watching the messenger’s route.
Is he insane? Once the messenger reaches the capital, there’s no turning back.
Why is the Second Prince so quiet? He should at least make a plausible excuse!
It seems neither side is willing to back down. At this rate, a Great War is truly going to break out.
The nobles whose territories lay between the Imperial Family and the North swallowed hard.
This wasn't just any conflict; the opponents were the Imperial Family and the Conqueror of the North.
If war broke out, they would surely be the shrimp whose backs broke in a fight between whales.
With the very survival of their families on the line, they couldn't help but be anxious.
However, there was one person far more nervous than any of those nobles.
“Whew.”
Fritz, Lucian’s messenger, let out a long sigh and repeatedly wiped his brow.
Every time his fingers brushed his skin, he felt the cold sweat seeping into his wrinkles.
Watching him, Marius, who was accompanying him as an escort, spoke up.
“Are you nervous?”
“...I’ve shown a pathetic side of myself. A messenger should never reveal his emotions, regardless of the situation.”
“It can’t be helped. You are on your way to dismantle an Empire that has lasted a thousand years. Anyone who understands the weight of that would be nervous.”
Fritz nodded silently.
Risking his own life was nothing new, but this time, it wasn't just his head on the line.
The few words he would utter at the Imperial Palace would collapse the Empire and plunge the entire continent into war.
The weight of overturning an era with his own tongue was a burden even Fritz found difficult to bear.
“In a way, it’s quite funny. Here I am worrying about the world when I don’t even know if I’ll keep my own life.”
“Don’t worry about that. You will make it out without a single scratch. That is why I and my disciples are accompanying you.”
“Yes. It is a treatment far too generous for an old man like me.”
To keep Fritz alive, Lucian had mobilized Marius, Colin, and Helen.
Considering the 300-year history of mage persecution, they were rare talents.
Losing even one of them would be a massive blow, yet Lucian hadn't hesitated for a second.
—No matter what happens, you must bring Fritz back alive. If it looks like you can’t save him, die in his place. That is the first command I give you.
Recalling Lucian as he gave that order made Fritz’s heart swell again.
While it might have been partly to keep Marius in line, Fritz knew those words were Lucian’s sincere truth.
“Since I have received treatment far beyond my abilities, I must meet the Duke’s expectations even if it costs me my life. Being this nervous is a luxury I cannot afford.”
“The same goes for me. If I fail to save you, I have no more chances. As His Grace commanded, I will save you even if I have to die in your stead.”
“That is very reassuring.”
Fritz smiled as he replied, but he felt a strange curiosity.
What on earth had this mage done to incur Lucian’s wrath?
He possessed enough skill that most minor flaws would usually be overlooked.
Fritz had no way of guessing the reason, but one thing was certain.
If Marius couldn't save him, no one else could.
Fritz’s party left the North and eventually entered the Imperial Family’s sphere of influence.
The Imperial Family immediately dispatched a knight order to escort them to Tivron.
On the surface, the reason was to protect the Imperial guest and show that they held no grudge against Lucian, but in reality, it was for surveillance.
They want to block any factions dissatisfied with the Second Prince from contacting us.
Fritz understood the Second Prince’s concern but found it pitiful.
The Prince was focusing on the wrong things when there were far more pressing matters to worry about.
Regardless, Fritz had no intention of contacting anyone else, so he quietly accepted the escort.
Upon arriving safely in Tivron, the group was immediately granted an audience with Second Prince Cedric.
Sitting on the Regent’s chair below the Jade Throne, Cedric welcomed Fritz with a smile.
He acted as if he had long forgotten that Fritz’s master had thrown his inspector into a dungeon.
“Welcome to Tivron, the jewel of the Empire, Messenger. You have worked hard on your long journey.”
“I thank Your Highness the Second Prince for the warm welcome. I am Fritz, a messenger from Asagrim.”
“If you are the Duke’s messenger, you must have brought good news. His loyalty is known to everyone in the Empire.”
Despite the barb in Cedric’s words, Fritz calmly bowed his head.
He had far too much experience to be rattled by such minor sarcasm.
“If you expected that, then it is truly a pity. What I have brought is the Duke’s question.”
“A question? The Duke has a question for the Imperial Family?”
“It has been a long time since we have seen His Highness the First Prince, the heir to the throne. As a subject, how could he not wonder about his lord’s whereabouts?”
“A trivial question. My brother is simply bedridden. It must be due to the great shock he suffered after the Late Emperor passed away.”
“Is he in such a state that he cannot even be seen?”
“Indeed. I am told that if he does not have absolute rest, the situation could become irreversible.”
Using a severe illness as an excuse to prevent a meeting.
It was a classic tactic, but an effective one.
Insisting on meeting a patient who required rest would be a grave insult.
An ordinary person would have no choice but to turn back, even while knowing the other party’s intent.
But Fritz possessed a weapon that could overturn any intent.
Taking a deep breath, Fritz pulled that weapon from his robe.
“If he is gravely ill, then it cannot be helped. Instead, please deliver this to His Highness the First Prince.”
“What is that?”
“It is a magical artifact that the Late Emperor gifted to the Duke. It allows for two-way communication, but only His Majesty the Emperor could initiate the connection.”
“So you are saying that since it is useless for the Duke to keep it, he is returning it to the Imperial Family now.”
“Precisely. It now belongs to the First Prince, who will ascend the throne, so it is only right that it goes to him.”
Cedric narrowed his eyes slightly and gestured to an attendant.
The attendant approached Fritz, carefully took the red stone, and handed it to Cedric.
Fiddling with the stone with an intrigued expression, Cedric clicked his tongue.
“I have no idea how to use this. It is truly a shame. If only the Late Emperor had left proper instructions, we could have put it to good use.”
Fritz’s eyes flashed.
Cedric likely intended to explain in advance why he couldn't use the artifact.
Otherwise, people would keep asking him about it.
But that political calculation had just become a dagger pointed at Cedric’s own throat.
Seizing the perfect moment, Fritz immediately carried out Lucian’s command.
“That is very strange. Are not Imperial magical artifacts designed so that even an infant of the direct bloodline can use them? If one carries the blood of the Late Emperor, the artifact should react immediately.”
“...What?”
“Why does Your Highness require instructions for the artifact? And why, even though Your Highness has touched it directly, does the artifact show no reaction at all?”
Cedric blinked blankly, as if he didn't understand what was being said.
He seemed unable to connect Fritz’s question to the lineage he had never doubted even in his dreams.
Toward that Cedric, Fritz uttered the single sentence that would tear the Empire apart.
“Your Highness the Second Prince... are you truly of the Late Emperor’s blood?”