Chapter 170
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 170
Gulp, gulp.
Below the Emperor’s jade throne, from the seat of the regent, Second Prince Cedric was chugging wine straight from the bottle.
After emptying the entire bottle without pausing for breath, Cedric promptly hurled the empty vessel to the side.
Crash!
The bottle shattered with a loud, discordant noise, yet no one came running. He had issued a strict command that no one was to approach the audience chamber for at least an hour.
In the silence of the chamber, Cedric stared up at the ceiling for a moment before muttering, “I can’t even get drunk.”
Muttering to himself, Cedric reached for another bottle. But before his hand could grasp it, a thin, dark line shot out from the shadows. The line nudged the bottle slightly to the side, causing Cedric’s hand to grasp at empty air.
“…What do you think you’re doing?”
—Consuming such a large amount at once is not good for your health. I understand your feelings, but please, look after yourself.
“Ha, you understand?”
Cedric let out a hollow laugh at the voice coming from the shadows. He bowed his head and laughed as if he couldn't contain the absurdity of it all, then glared into the darkness.
“Fine. If you understand so well, then tell me. How do you think I feel right now?”
—…
“The Empire, which was finally within my grasp, is slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. The court nobles, who acted as if they’d give me their very souls, now avoid being associated with me. And from all directions, ambitious fools are running wild as if the world is theirs.”
—It is not over yet.
“Yes, you’re right. It’s not over.”
Of course, Cedric still had a chance. No matter how much the subversives acted out, he already had control over Tivron. If he gathered his supporters at the capital and pacified the Empire once more, no one would dare voice their complaints…
“But why on earth should I have to do that?!”
Smash!
His face contorted like a demon's, Cedric hurled the wine bottle toward the jade throne. The throne, where generations of emperors had sat, was stained a dark, bloody red by the exploding wine.
Panting heavily, Cedric flipped over a nearby table and screamed.
“It was originally mine! I was the master of this Empire! And yet, I—the Emperor—am expected to sit at the same table as those unqualified bastards and play at power struggles?!”
—…
“Even if I win, I’m only getting back what was already mine! But those thieves, whether they win or lose, get to carve up the Empire as if it were their own! What kind of rigged gamble is this?!”
Clatter, crash, shatter.
After overturning, breaking, and smashing everything in sight, Cedric breathed in ragged gasps. He knew his behavior wasn't rational, but he simply couldn't endure it.
He had occupied the throne long ago; all he had to do was sit down. But now, he didn't know if he could ever truly reclaim it, even if he spent the rest of his life trying.
All of this had happened because of a single herald from the North.
“Lucian! Bernhardt! You bastards! Even tearing your limbs apart and feeding them to dogs wouldn't be enough…!”
Cedric’s face was flushed crimson with excessive rage as his body trembled. While Lucian was the one who had sparked the crisis by questioning his bloodline, Bernhardt was more to blame for the uncontrollable spread of the fallout.
Bernhardt had taken the controversy Lucian threw out, attached all sorts of theories to it, organized it in detail, and then spread it throughout the Empire. The nobles, who were already half-doubting, completely turned their backs on Cedric because of the documents Bernhardt circulated.
To Cedric, Bernhardt was just as much a sworn enemy as Lucian.
“What is all this fuss over some magical artifact?! It’s a thousand-year-old relic! It wouldn't be strange at all if something went wrong with it!”
—The documents circulating among the public are nothing more than logic forced together by rebels. If the theories on magic were as robust as they were in the old days, they wouldn't have been able to pull off such a stunt.
“Exactly! I never imagined those bastards would so cunningly exploit the lack of information!”
Cedric rationalized his situation, desperately clinging to those words. He told himself that everything was just a plausible rumor spread by exploiting a gap in knowledge. He told himself he was undoubtedly the biological son of the former Emperor and the rightful heir.
After huffing for a long while, a sigh escaped Cedric’s lips.
“…Where did it all go wrong?”
Was it the mistake of not killing First Prince Claude sooner and trying to use him more? Or was it the mistake of provoking a tiger like Lucian? Or was it, from the very beginning, the act of defying his father’s will and coveting the throne…
Bang, bang, bang!
“Y-Your Highness! Prince Cedric! Something terrible has happened!”
Lost in thought, Cedric furrowed his brows at the loud pounding on the audience chamber doors. He had clearly stated several times that he would kill anyone who approached, yet they had already forgotten and were making such a racket.
Feeling no need to respond, Cedric signaled the shadow with his eyes to execute the intruder.
“The rebels have kidnapped First Prince Claude and are fleeing! You must come out immediately!”
“Tsk, finally.”
At the voice from outside, Cedric rescinded the execution order. It was a matter important enough to warrant breaking his command. However, Cedric, who had anticipated Claude’s escape, shouted back without any change in expression.
“Leave them be!”
“Wh-What?!”
“I’ve already made preparations. Even if they flee beyond the White Walls, they won't get far before they’re captured.”
Among those who doubted Cedric’s bloodline, how could there not be those looking to switch sides to Claude? There would be all sorts, from those leading the charge openly to those who would quietly turn a blind eye and claim credit later.
After much deliberation, Cedric had decided he couldn't completely prevent the escape itself, so he had secretly spread a dragnet around the White Walls.
“They will surely move in a small group. They’ll be caught in no time.”
“Y-Your Highness… I beg your pardon, but the rebels are not heading outside the White Walls.”
“What? If they aren't going outside the city, where on earth are they going?”
Whether they sank into the ground or flew into the sky, they would have to go outside the walls to escape. Just as Cedric was wondering what this nonsense was, he froze at the servant’s next words.
“I do not know the reason, but the rebels are heading toward First Prince Claude’s old quarters!”
“…!”
If those fleeing were heading inward rather than outward, there was only one reason. It was because a means of escape—be it a secret passage or something else—that was even faster existed there.
Realizing the situation, Cedric’s face turned pale as he screamed.
“Stop them at once! They intend to escape using a hidden magical artifact!”
Slash!
“Huff, huff!”
Richard, having cut down the entire guard detail and reached Claude’s room, breathed heavily. Most of the knights who had participated in the coup were long dead, and those remaining were on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. It was the natural result of entering the heart of the Imperial Palace, which was crawling with guards, instead of using a pre-arranged escape route.
“Tsk, tsk. This is all you’ve got after that little skirmish? I followed you thinking you were worth something, but your skills are pathetic.”
Richard, who had been swallowing his bitterness, felt a surge of anger at Claude’s voice from behind him. He didn't expect Claude to step forward and intimidate the attackers or make them hesitate with his dignity. But surely, he could at least mourn those who had died fighting for him.
To be treated as pathetic so openly, without even a word of hollow gratitude.
A protest rose to his throat, but he couldn't afford to sour Claude’s mood at the very moment he was needed most.
“…My apologies, Your Highness.”
“Forget it. I didn't have high expectations for you lot anyway.”
Click.
Claude didn't even listen to the end of the apology before entering his old room. A moment later, Claude tapped a section of the wall, and a small, hidden compartment revealed itself. In the space, which was barely large enough for a few ornaments, lay a ring and a necklace.
“Hmph, it seems that fellow didn't manage to find this place. He really thinks he’s the only one who matters. Did he think no one else lived their lives prepared?”
“Your Highness, you must hurry. Reinforcements are swarming in.”
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
At the sound of approaching footsteps from outside, Richard urged Claude. Claude furrowed his brows in annoyance for a moment before sliding the ring onto his finger.
Immediately, a red light flashed from the ring, and the air began to ripple.
Whoosh!
“Oh, so this is the Imperial…!”
Richard watched in awe as a Dimensional Gate opened in the empty air. The moment they stepped through that door, they would be safe from Cedric’s grasp.
It was the moment Richard and the knights took a step toward the Dimensional Gate.
Thud!
“Gah?!”
Richard recoiled as if he had struck a wall. As he looked around, confused about what had happened, Claude burst into laughter.
“You idiot. You can’t come here.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ve cast a barrier with a magical artifact so you can’t cross over. How is it? You didn't even feel it activate, did you?”
“Your Highness, what is the meaning of this?!”
Richard was bewildered by Claude’s sudden, unexpected behavior. He couldn't understand why he was doing this after coming all this way.
Claude spoke to Richard in a mocking tone.
“You fool. Do you think I’m an idiot? You probably served Cedric until you found a reason to switch to me. And your goal was power.”
“Your Highness!”
“You intended to go to that Lucian fellow and act as my personal guard, didn't you? Acting as if anyone who wanted to speak to the Prince had to go through you. It’s as plain as day.”
“….”
Richard could say nothing to Claude, who spoke as if he had seen through everything. He certainly did have a desire for power. He also had the goal of jumping ship before he was branded a rebel for staying with the Second Prince. He had also thought that in Asagrim, the heart of Lucian’s territory, Claude would have no choice but to rely on them.
But even taking all that into account, Claude’s stupidity exceeded all imagination.
“…Your Highness, I will ask you one thing. Do you truly believe that if you go to Asagrim alone, Duke Lucian will serve you with loyalty and give you everything?”
Even if he crossed over to the North alone, what could Claude do? Loyalty? Loyalty in times of chaos was nothing more than a sandcastle built upon all sorts of filthy interests. Legitimacy? If one had only legitimacy without a single soldier or a crust of bread, they were destined to become nothing more than a rubber stamp for manufacturing justifications.
The countless kings in history weren't fools for tolerating the atrocities committed by their personal factions. It was because they could do nothing according to their own will if they didn't keep a force by their side that could amplify their voice.
However, Claude seemed not to know even such a simple fact as he smiled and shrugged.
“At least my voice will be heard directly. Not a distorted command through a sycophant like you, but a command truly given by me.”
“Haha.”
At Claude’s answer, which showed he completely failed to grasp the situation, Richard let out a hollow laugh. To think he still believed that, just like in the old days, everything would be resolved if he simply gave orders in front of others.
Dialogue and respect could only be shared when both parties possessed at least a minimum of power—at least some claws—but the moronic Claude had thrown everything away himself.
“You regarded everything in the world as your own, and now you’re in a position where you’ll need someone else’s permission just to drink a cup of water. Everything is the result of your own actions, so if you must resent someone, resent your own stupidity.”
“…What is this bastard saying? Has he gone mad?”
At the sudden drop of formal speech, Claude’s face contorted violently. He was livid at the unprecedented disrespect, but Richard, the party involved, merely waited for his impending death with lifeless eyes.
After glaring at Richard for a moment, Claude clicked his tongue.
‘I’d like to cut out that insolent tongue of his, but I don't need to lift a finger; Cedric will take care of it for me.’
Given Cedric’s sinister personality, he certainly wouldn't let him die peacefully once he learned the circumstances. Casting aside any lingering thoughts, Claude leaped through the Dimensional Gate.
Without feeling even a shred of guilt for the deaths of those who had saved him, regardless of their motives.
Boom!
The moment Claude crossed through the Dimensional Gate, the door to the room was smashed open, and knights came rushing in. Cedric, who was behind the knights, saw the back of Claude’s head disappearing through the gate and shouted.
“Stop!”
At Cedric’s voice, Claude glanced back. All that could be seen through the gate, which was now smaller than a palm, were Claude’s eyes, but Cedric could see it clearly.
The slight curve of his eyes, as if mocking Cedric as he watched blankly.
Flash.
“….”
“….”
A heavy silence descended as the Dimensional Gate closed completely. Although they hadn't grasped the exact details, everyone could tell without interrogation that Claude had escaped.
After trembling with rage for a long time, Cedric glared at Richard, who had led the escape, and spoke.
“…Don't think you’ll die easily, you rebels.”
At Cedric’s overflowing bloodlust, Richard and the knights trembled in silence.