Chapter 164
Chapter: 164
-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 164
>Chapter Title: Storm (5)
>-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Logan was currently engulfed in a profound sense of disconnection.
The stormy vista of the greenhouse garden receded into the distance, while the face of the man who had removed his mask filled his entire field of vision.
“…Benicio?”
Slowly lowering the tip of his sword aimed at the assassin, Logan unwittingly called out the name of his old friend.
Was this truly a dream?
—I believe that by realizing the future dreamed of by the republicans, Ortona will move in a better direction.
A cadet at the academy, his eyes sparkling intelligently as he envisioned the glorious future of his homeland.
—Do you see me as a traitor to the royal family just because I’m the Second Prince who couldn’t seize the throne? Do you not believe in my steadfast conviction to support a republican government for the future of our nation?
A friend who, deeply despondent over an insurmountable reality, clung to a bottle of liquor and poured out his woes.
“Why on earth are you here…?”
After parting ways on the Andros Plains, he had been left in a state of uncertainty, not knowing if he was dead or alive.
Rumble, crash!
Lightning struck once more. In that fleeting instant, a torrent of thoughts flooded Logan’s mind.
Even after reviving, I kept searching for you. I tracked down the whereabouts of your republican comrades. It was never my intention to betray our homeland. It’s just that if I abandoned everything and left for Ortona like this, it would amount to betraying my current family as well…
“Prince Logan.”
Startled by the cold voice calling him, Logan flinched.
His reason slowly returned as cold raindrops soaked his head. He was Logan Delcros now. Not Gael Bertrand.
“Benicio. How do you know his name?”
At that question, Logan took a fresh look at the assassin’s face.
At first glance, he seemed identical to Benicio, but upon closer inspection with a clear mind, the contours of his face were subtly different. The long scar running from the corner of his mouth to his chin was something his friend had never had.
Above all, if his friend were still alive, he would be over sixty by now. Yet the man before him was far too young.
Logan asked in a hoarse voice.
“…Do you know him?”
In response, the assassin glanced down at Arjuna, pointed at him.
“I’ve always wanted to ask Your Highness. Why does the Empire’s prince possess General Gael’s sword?”
“…….”
“Is this how the Empire boasts of the power that so easily brought down the unparalleled Sword Master? Was killing him not enough? Did you want to mock the fallen Ortona to the very end?”
Logan felt a chill creeping up his spine from the ominous premonition rising within.
He had recognized Arjuna at once, knew of Gael Bertrand, and bore an uncanny resemblance to Benicio in his youth.
Could it be…?
‘…Kike?’
The arm holding Arjuna fell limply to his side. The young man stared at Logan’s pallid face for a moment before frowning sharply, as if displeased by something.
“Please forgive my rudeness toward Your Highness.”
“…….”
“I was a bit flustered since you suddenly chased me so urgently. It seems there’s some misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding….”
“Yes. I am an informant directly dispatched by His Majesty from the Guild.”
Logan blinked slowly, gauging the storm-tossed air around him.
This is truth.
“I entered the palace with no disloyal intentions whatsoever. So please, just let me go.”
This… is a lie.
When no reply came, the young man backed away a couple of steps, wary of Arjuna.
Seeing Logan still frozen in place, he promptly turned and leaped over the wall, vanishing.
“…….”
Logan had mountains of questions he wanted to ask, but he could not bring himself to pursue him further.
His hand gripped Arjuna so tightly he had forgotten to circulate his aura, growing icy cold in the rain.
* * *
“The Lord has prepared much for you, and your cup will overflow with grace.”
As a clear voice recited the scripture, holy white light poured down over his head. The Duke of Carthage, blessed, bowed deeply in.
This petite saintess in her white veil moved with such sanctity in every gesture, as if sculpted by the Lord’s own hands.
It was no wonder that merely seeing her worked a miracle, healing the stiff necks of the distinguished guests.
“The Lord responds to your upright faith…”
Sisle spoke as she bestowed another blessing upon a guest’s head.
The young saintess, tempered by years of service and visitations, knew all too well how to act to inspire greater reverence in people.
Thanks to her, the guests were lining up to receive blessings from this little saintess.
Receiving a blessing from a saintess at a birthday banquet was exceedingly rare. Normally, saintesses tended to the lowliest, rarely meeting royalty or nobles.
The other saintess, Seoi-seo, stood silently beside Sisle doing nothing, yet the guests were content with that. Seoi-seo in her Cardmos mode exuded majesty just by standing there with her golden eyes gleaming.
“The atmosphere in the banquet hall has stabilized.”
Empress Tatiana whispered to Empress Consort Melody while elegantly fanning herself.
She had been anxious about the Holy Emperor’s delay, yet she maintained her composure, mindful of her position. Her mere presence at the head seat helped calm the unrest.
“Yes. This is all thanks to Princess Amelia.”
Empress Consort Melody replied with a warm smile.
As she said, it was Amelia who now dominated the mood of the hall.
The princess keenly grasped the flow of the entire banquet hall, approaching agitated guests and skillfully drawing them back into the festivities.
Even she, seasoned by palace life, could not help but admire the timeliness of Amelia’s responses.
“I can’t fathom how dependable she is. I thought her merely a delicate girl, but she’s grown so mature already. Truly befitting the Empire’s great princess, isn’t she?”
“Indeed…”
Empress Tatiana trailed off. Deep down, she had hoped Logan would fill that role.
Her eyes then caught sight of the 1st Imperial Consort, surrounded by people and smiling radiantly. Her overly extravagant attire was practically plastered with gold jewelry.
She neither guarded the head seat nor showed the slightest intent to tend to the banquet’s atmosphere.
‘Lizaveta…’
Tatiana had known of her ambitions from the start. Had the Holy Emperor not curbed the factional strife and intrigues, she would have caused endless troubles by now.
Yet it was strange. When her son was infamous as a wastrel, she had desperately pushed for him to be named crown prince. Now that he had reformed splendidly, she barely spared him a proper glance.
What on earth was that arrogant woman thinking?
“Oh my! How doll-like Princess Herena and Prince Gades are! Look at them sitting there, hands clasped tightly!”
Just then, Empress Consort Melody exclaimed beside her.
‘This one is too innocent for her own good.’
Had it not been for the Holy Emperor, she would have become fodder for inner palace intrigues in an instant. The fact that such purity had endured for over a decade attested to the palace’s stability thus far.
But.
‘In the end, a succession struggle will erupt someday. It’s an inevitable truth, not something that can be avoided forever. Yet with such grown children, why has His Majesty still not named a crown prince? What on earth does he intend…?’
Empress Tatiana raised her fan to deftly conceal the sigh escaping her lips.
Meanwhile, deeming the banquet hall sufficiently settled, Amelia looked around with relief.
Her gaze suddenly fixed on a terrace in the corner. More precisely, on the twins sitting before the closed terrace doors, their backs to her.
Herena and Gades sat side by side like dolls perched neatly on a display shelf, staring out the window without stirring.
“Are you enjoying the banquet?”
As Amelia approached, the two turned to her in unison. They made surprisingly adult expressions and praised her solemnly.
“You’ve worked hard, big sister Amelia.”
“You’ve done well, big sis Amelia.”
“Hehe. Looks like you’ve finally stopped swapping clothes.”
Amelia smiled faintly and patted their shoulders. Noticing the faint shadow on her face, the twins nodded.
“Don’t worry about Holy Emperor Dad. Moreth went, so he’ll be back soon.”
“Dad His Holiness is fine. Moreth always sorts things out when he gets involved.”
Amelia looked at them alternately in surprise. Sitting quietly here, they seemed already aware of the disturbance on the second floor.
‘Well, these kids sometimes act like they know everything.’
Accepting that, Amelia asked.
“Do you know what happened on the second floor?”
“Yeah. It’s the aftermath of a rift suddenly opening. Normal people can’t endure it.”
“You feel the effects just getting close. Of course, a distance like the banquet hall is fine.”
At that answer, Amelia grew anxious. She now realized she had sent Logan and Moreth there without any countermeasures, and regret began to set in.
The banquet seemed sorted now, so maybe she should head to the office. As she turned to go, the twins grabbed her arms from both sides.
“It’s okay. Moreth needs to get used to rifts anyway.”
“Don’t worry. Moreth might already be used to them.”
“But…”
Just then, Masain approached them with a worried face.
“Your Highness. Have you seen Prince Moreth by any chance? I can’t find him anywhere since earlier.”
“Ah! Perfect timing, brother. I was just about to look for him. Will you come with me to the office?”
She glanced at the twins as she spoke, but they had already released her hands and were now completely absorbed in the view outside, ignoring them.
Feeling a twinge of unease, Amelia gave them one last look before leaving.
And shortly after, the twins.
“Hey, it’s Holy Emperor Dad!”
“Yeah, it’s Dad His Holiness.”
Spotted lightning leaping between clouds and cried out in excitement.
White bolts that danced and vanished amid the clouds without striking the ground.
“Suddenly feels full of energy, huh?”
“Yeah, he looks in a good mood.”
They then fell silent, gazing at the stormy scene outside.
“Hey. If we go through a rift like that someday, could we return there too?”
Herena eventually asked, tugging lightly at the gold necklace around her neck.
“Of course we will. The traces of the world pushing in are still here like this.”
Gades replied, fiddling with the gold cuff buttons adorning his sleeves.
“Now that I think about it, that place feels kinda nostalgic.”
“It’s just homesickness. Honestly, I don’t want to go back.”
They continued their cryptic conversation for a while.
Suddenly, the lightning tapered off as if by magic. The children, who had been staring up at the now-weaker rain, jolted.
“Ah…”
They faced each other and cried out simultaneously.
“He’s back!”
* * *
Blink, blink.
Seongjin awoke to find himself collapsed right under the sofa. He tried to rise.
Urk.
He staggered badly and slumped back to the floor, retching.
‘Why… why am I so dizzy?’
No, it wasn’t mere dizziness; it was extreme vertigo. As if the semicircular canals in his ear were spinning in three directions at once.
His senses of time and space twisted chaotically, like someone gleefully jumping rope with his nerves.
[Waaah! Seongjin! Seongjin! You bastard!]
The Demon King rampaged in his head, yelling.
[What the hell happened! Why’d you suddenly collapse and go silent?!]
The thing was practically sniffling.
The Demon King, who usually kept quiet around the Holy Emperor, was this frantic, so he must have been truly worried.
But I’m fine now, so shut up, will ya? It’s too noisy; my head’s ringing!
[Waaah! Hey! I thought your soul ditched me again and I was…]
Then a low voice came from above Seongjin’s head.
“Quiet…”
[Gulp!]
The Demon King snapped his mouth shut.
Suppressing nausea, Seongjin looked up to see the Holy Emperor on the sofa, eyes open, shakily rising.
“Worry not. This is purely sensory disruption. It’s not a physical issue… a…”
The Holy Emperor covered his mouth with his hand midway. Probably felt like vomiting just speaking.
And Seongjin was the same. The moment he lifted his head to look, dizziness hit with nausea.
He kept his head down, waiting to settle, when the Holy Emperor’s hand came over his head, pouring down radiant holy power.
Wait, you said it’s not a physical problem. What good is holy power?!
But Seongjin couldn’t voice it either. Truly. Holding back vomit was his limit.
Urk.
Every time Seongjin dry-heaved, holy power rained down from above. What a waste.
‘He’s probably doing this since there’s nothing else he can do…’
If it comforted him, fine.