Chapter 24
Chapter: 24
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 024
>Chapter Title: Outing with the Twins (2)
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>Golden Truth Society.
A scholarly gathering that explores the truths of this world with pure academic curiosity, free from prejudice.
The young man who introduced himself as the head of the society's capital branch, Adrian Davis, was a noble of fairly high standing. His lean, scrawny build was the epitome of a reclusive scholar type, though the tight line of his downturned mouth gave him a somewhat stubborn air.
"Cardinal Kafuran is my uncle."
Seongjin didn't miss the faint flicker of contempt that crossed the young man's face as he said it.
"Our society, once on the brink of dissolution, was able to turn a corner thanks to Your Highness. For the sake of the Empire's distant future, we members are always moved by Your Highness's generous and unwavering support over these many years."
"Oh, come on, moved is a bit much."
"No! Whenever we hear ignorant fools slandering Your Highness, we feel a rage in our hearts that words cannot express."
Of course, Seongjin had no memory of sponsoring them.
But now wasn't the time to bring up his amnesia after the illness. He had a feeling this society the young man spoke of wasn't exactly operating in the light of day.
In the Holy Empire, where the authority of the Lord God pierced the heavens, any group prattling on about "truth" was primed to be branded heretical. It wasn't just something that happened on Earth.
As proof, Sir Massain's face, listening silently beside him, was growing stiffer by the second.
"When we heard you'd suffered a severe fever, we worried endlessly that something untoward might befall Your Highness. By chance, we're graced with this opportunity to express our gratitude in person—it's a tremendous honor."
"Hm, is that so?"
"Yes. In truth, I hesitated, fearing it might bring disrepute to Your Highness, but with you rarely leaving the palace, who knows when we'd have another chance to pay our respects..."
He'd stopped by the tailor shop, overheard that Moress was there, and come on impulse. A favorite spot for the capital's priests, apparently—and it showed.
Sir Massain stepped forward as if to speak, but Seongjin quickly raised a hand to stop him. He was certain the young man would bolt at the first sign of trouble.
He needed to figure out just how deep Moress was tangled in whatever mess this was—to grasp as much of the situation as possible.
"I've always believed your pursuits would one day greatly benefit Delcross. I had nothing else to offer, so I wanted to provide that modest support at least."
"Ah, as expected of Your Highness..."
The young man looked deeply moved. The faint doubt and unease in his eyes from moments ago had vanished completely.
"In truth, there were some murmurs within the society. Base individuals twisted Your Highness's intentions, using your absence and the mere flow of funds as pretext. But hearing your will directly today, I see how foolish those suspicions were. I am overcome with emotion."
"Hmm. I see."
No direct contact with the society's members, then. But was Moress truly the sponsor?
His mind was growing complicated when the young man bowed his head and hurriedly continued.
"With my ignorant companions waiting, lingering longer would invite needless suspicion. I'll take my leave, so please preserve your precious health. In Delcross, you alone, Prince Moress, are the one we can truly rely on."
He glanced at Sir Massain's rigidly hardened face, then scurried away.
Whoa.
It felt like a sudden blow to the back of the head.
"...Do you know anything about this, Sir Massain?"
"With all due respect, it's news to me, Your Highness."
Sir Massain's expression was fierce. He approached Seongjin as if ready to bellow at any moment when a timid knock sounded again: knock knock.
The two men exchanged glances, a foreboding premonition passing between them.
"Delcross's unparalleled blessing! On behalf of the Adelheit Plague Society, sponsors of our cause, we offer our heartfelt gratitude to Prince Moress..."
Outside the door stood a lanky figure with a bowl-cut hairstyle, bowing politely.
* * *
By the time the twins returned to Salon de Mersy, Seongjin had crossed paths with representatives from three organizations.
Golden Truth Society.
Adelheit Plague Society.
Blue Republican Revolution Front.
Not one of them would look out of place being branded traitorous and wiped out on the spot.
You mad bastard, Moress! What the hell has the prince of the Holy Empire been up to?!
-Stay quietly and train while I'm gone. No causing trouble.
The Holy Emperor's last words before entering secluded prayer now carried an ominous weight in this mess.
"Our Salon de Mersy also serves as a gathering spot for refined young nobles of culture," said Madam Justina, waving her fan languidly as she saw him off.
Seongjin shot her a glare without responding.
You're the most suspicious one here, you bastard.
Those people wouldn't have come up to the private rooms without the shop's tacit approval.
Above all, no matter how boisterously they'd arrived, the word of Moress's visit spreading to multiple groups in that short time smelled of the madam pulling strings. He couldn't shake the suspicion.
Regardless, Madam Justina merely stroked her signature pink fur and smiled faintly.
As Seongjin boarded the carriage with the twins, she raised her long arm in a deep bow toward it.
"I eagerly await the day we meet again, Prince Moress."
A weighty tone, without the usual drawl.
The true voice of Madam Justina for the first time.
Startled, Seongjin looked back out the window, but the carriage was already moving. Salon de Mersy receded in an instant.
Clop clop.
Herne and Gades sat side by side across from him, staring intently at his face.
"Had a fun time, Moress?"
"Was it an enlightening time, Moress?"
"......"
Seongjin had no idea what to say.
What did these kids know? Had they anticipated who would approach him?
If word got out that he sponsored such seditious groups, the prince's position in the Holy Empire would be as good as doomed. Were they planning to blackmail him with Moress's weakness?
Even considering the slim chance it was coincidence, he had no intention of blurting out details about those shady groups in front of the twins. But there was one thing he had to ask.
"You two knew, didn't you? What's the scheme here?"
"Hmm, that's hurtful. Everything's for Moress's sake."
"Yeah, kinda upsetting? We think about Moress a lot."
"......"
They weren't denying some special intent, then.
Whether they sensed his tangled thoughts or not, the twins added in composed, chiding tones.
"You need to start attending social gatherings on your own soon, Moress."
"You can't stay under Daddy's protection forever, Moress."
Seongjin sighed.
Sharpening his nerves against these kids would just get him the same evasive answers as always. Even without that, the information available to him now was severely limited. Pushing too hard might make him miss what little he could learn.
Might as well play along for now.
"...Where to next? The puppet show, right?"
At his words, the twins flashed bright smiles in unison. Innocent smiles on faces as clear as porcelain.
* * *
Bertrand Street.
Just a few decades ago, this was a shabby row of logistics warehouses next to the market, nothing to write home about.
Then one day, a troupe from Brittany rented an old warehouse and started performing, gradually transforming it into a theater district.
Named after the troupe's most famous actor, Bertrand Street now boasted three grand opera houses, three massive ballet theaters, and dozens of playhouses and small venues hosting various performances—a true hub of culture.
Performances weren't limited to theaters; street shows abounded too: one-act plays for promotion, exotic acts from foreign lands, and little puppet shows for children.
These usually took place on modest portable stages in the plazas.
The spot the twins led Seongjin to was one such humble stage, just starting its show.
A single small window in a large plank—that was the entire stage. No proper seats, so kids clustered in front, waiting.
Most of the gathered children looked around five or six, leaving Seongjin a bit flustered. Isn't this a bit young for the twins...?
Anyway, the show began. Flickering candlelight from a large oak barrel beside the stage illuminated as the red curtain parted, revealing two tiny puppets.
'The puppets look kinda... rough.'
They weren't even proper marionettes—barely qualifying as stuffed dolls, crudely sewn with fabric eyes and mouths.
As the rickety puppets shuffled onstage, a few children let out disappointed sighs.
But that faded with the narration. A voice with strange magnetism captivated the kids instantly.
[This is the tale of two demon kings from another world. The Dream Demon King and the Fire Demon King, who made a pact and betrayed each other. A story of a battle that still rages on.]
The yellow and red fluff balls—like leftover poop lumps—were apparently the demon kings.
'...Wasn't it supposed to be hero versus demon king?'
Seongjin puzzled briefly but soon focused on the show.
The husky voice, murmuring low and resonant, had a hypnotic pull. Impossible to tell if man or woman, old or young—an alluring enigma.
[The Dream Demon King bore a grave mission. He had sworn to protect precious dreams from a terrifying calamity threatening the world. Thus, he resolved to one day become the mighty Story Demon King.]
The red lump exited the stage.
Now alone in the center, the yellow lump struck a dramatic pose of resolve. The tongue-stuck-out expression mattered little.
[He knew he must battle a hero to grow stronger. So he found a suitable one and fought. Sadly, the foe proved exceedingly cruel.]
A dingy gray lump appeared beside the yellow. Yellow and gray tussled in clumsy headbutts.
That grubby lump's the hero?
They call that a fight?
Dumbfounded, Seongjin glanced at the twins gripping his arms, but they watched stone-faced. He shrugged and looked ahead.
[The Dream Demon King realized he couldn't win with his own power. So he trapped the hero in a dream and fled. His dream of becoming the Story Demon King was shattered by the hero.]
Sighs rose from the children. They genuinely pitied the demon king's escape.
Kids? Aren't you supposed to root for the hero?
[Then the Fire Demon King appeared. He offered to aid the beleaguered Dream Demon King.]
The red lump returned.
From there, the story unfolded swiftly. More narration than puppetry, really.
The Fire Demon King promised to enter the dream and eliminate the hero—but plotted to devour the Dream Demon King's dreams instead.
Conversely, the Dream Demon King planned to bury both in the dream once the Fire Demon King disposed of the hero.
Under the swaying candlelight, shadows of the scheming puppets danced eerily.
Far too dark for kids, rife with petty betrayals. The gloom peaked with the hero's return.
The brutal hero beat the Fire Demon King soundly—over three days and nights, plus half a day. The last half-day? Just the face.
Kids began sniffling, pitying the demon king. Even Seongjin found it vicious.
"Wow... what kind of bastard is that? That cruel jerk..."
No wonder they call him the brutal hero. Hell, I'd side with the demon king too.
Clicking his tongue, Seongjin felt an odd gaze and looked down. Herne and Gades had been staring up at his face for who knows how long.
What? Why? What?