Chapter 28
Chapter: 28
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 028
>Chapter Title: The Black Prophets (3)
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>Count Masaine returned to the Pearl Palace late at night, long after the sun had set and darkness had blanketed the grounds.
Seongjin happened to have just finished dinner and was flipping through a picture book he had borrowed from Princess Amelia.
The Pearl Palace library contained an enormous collection of specialized texts, but when he actually went looking for something to learn to read with, he found not a single simple book for children.
It was clear that when Empress Consort Elizabeth had first established the library, she hadn’t given a single thought to Mores’s level of education.
In his dilemma over how to even begin studying letters, an angel in the form of Princess Amelia had extended a helping hand.
She had kept all the picture books from her own childhood safely stored away and gladly lent them to Seongjin when he confessed that he barely remembered how to read.
On days when they shared lunch together, she would open one up and read it to him slowly. She would listen patiently as he stumbled through the words.
“Reading books with my family has always been a dream of mine.”
When Seongjin apologized for making her waste her time, she smiled back happily instead.
Thanks to her, Seongjin had now reached the point where he could read simple fairy tales on his own, albeit slowly.
Of course, considering he had once claimed to the Holy Emperor that he wanted to read philosophy and religious texts, he still had a long way to go.
And so, today as well, he was skimming through a children’s book illustrated with cute animals while enjoying dessert when a knock sounded at the door. Count Masaine entered the room with an utterly exhausted look on his face.
“I apologize for being later than expected, Your Highness.”
Seongjin quietly closed the book and looked at him.
Today, Seongjin had made considerable progress in his training. He desperately wanted Masaine’s advice on it, but seeing the man shuffle in with such a haggard expression, he couldn’t bring himself to blame him.
“So, you said you were looking into something. Did everything go well?”
From the atmosphere, it didn’t seem like there had been much success.
Sure enough, Masaine shook his head with a gloomy expression.
The Golden Truth Society, the Adelheit Plague Society, the Blue Republican Revolutionary Front.
Suspicious organizations that Mores was said to have sponsored.
“I’ve investigated all the Pearl Palace ledgers recording Your Highness’s personal expenditures, but there are no records of contributions to any of those groups.”
From morning onward, he had hounded the Pearl Palace administrative officers to comb through every sponsorship and donation within the past five years.
However, the only regular sponsorships were to a single orphanage and a small theater on Bertrand Street, with only a few irregular donations to poverty relief organizations.
From this, he had considered two possibilities.
First, that Empress Consort Elizabeth might have sponsored those groups in Mores’s name.
Second, that a faction within the imperial palace seeking to slander Mores might have sent funds in his name.
From that point, he had rushed to the main palace and scoured years’ worth of inner court financial records. The responsible officers and administrative priests had panicked, thinking an unannounced audit had begun.
And the results were clean. Mostly donations to orphanages and poverty relief groups. Occasional sponsorships to arts organizations.
At the very least, no palace funds had flowed directly into those suspicious groups.
“Wow…”
Seongjin looked queasy. Just hearing about it made him feel how much pointless legwork Masaine had done that day.
“Of course, it’s still possible that some of the organizations listed in the sponsorship records are ghost entities that exist only on paper, or that funds were laundered through several steps…”
Masaine trailed off. From the mood, it seemed he was ready to go around tomorrow personally verifying each sponsorship—whether the groups actually existed and if the money had truly gone to them.
No, stop! That’s enough, you stubborn old man!
How do you plan to investigate all that by yourself?
Seongjin waved his hands dismissively.
“Count Masaine, that’ll never end. You’ve only checked donations and sponsorships, but what about the possibility that I fabricated purchases of expensive items like artwork and siphoned off funds that way? Are you going to investigate every palace purchase from the past few years?”
“…”
“What if there are no items? What if they were damaged or gifted away, leaving no evidence? Or maybe I just handed over the goods directly. Or the artwork in the palace warehouse is a forgery and the real ones are at auction houses.”
Masaine’s face turned deathly pale. He clearly hadn’t considered any of that.
“Or how about this? What if I accepted a request from someone and they demanded sponsorship as payment?”
“…Did they demand payment?!”
Count Masaine looked like he might faint.
No, you fool. I’m not saying I did it—I’m talking possibilities.
Well, whether the real Mores actually did or not, I wouldn’t know.
For now, Seongjin decided to calm Masaine down.
He patted the sofa. Masaine staggered over and sat down. When Seongjin offered him the cookies Edwina had left for dessert, the man finally seemed to regain some composure. He really should eat properly while he’s out and about.
“Come on, Count Masaine. Everything I said is just hypothetical. The chances of any of it actually happening are extremely low. Embezzling palace funds without a trace isn’t something just anyone can pull off.”
Light slowly returned to Masaine’s dazed eyes.
“Besides, realizing any of those possibilities I mentioned would require one essential thing: accomplices outside the palace.”
“You mean…”
“It’s time to stop chasing financial trails and start tracking my past social connections instead.”
Seongjin flashed a bright smile and held out a large tray to Masaine. It was piled high with invitations to social gatherings addressed to the Third Prince.
“Now that you’re back, why don’t we go through these invitations together? You can explain who these people are while we read.”
And I can study spelling on the side.
Masaine’s complexion darkened ominously, but Seongjin didn’t mind.
Preventing another round of pointless legwork starting tomorrow was thanks enough.
And so they threw themselves into sorting invitations late into the night.
First, they set aside anything that wasn’t a recurring event—anything one-off like birthdays or engagement parties got tossed.
They excluded gatherings too far from the capital as well. Mores, the palace shut-in, rarely left for extended periods.
They also discarded invitations to ladies-only events or theological academic conferences—anything Seongjin was certain Mores had no connection to.
What remained after filtering: just three invitations.
The first sender was Orden Sigismund. A clean, white letter with an antique border.
“It’s Archduke Sigismund. Son of the current Northern Frontier Count and grandson of Sir Vincent Sigismund, the famed general of old. He’s also renowned as the direct disciple of Baltazar, the continent’s greatest knight.”
House Sigismund wasn’t central nobility, but their influence was so immense that no one dared ignore them.
The archduke himself was famed across the continent for his martial prowess—sweeping martial tournaments in several countries with ease and idolized by the young lords of Delcross.
He came to the capital every year before his birthday and held gatherings with the young scions who admired him.
“Less a personal invitation to Your Highness and more one sent to all the highborn youths in the capital, I’d say.”
Masaine added.
Since it was right before the birthday banquet and the deadline was still far off, they set this one aside.
The second was from Ricardo Scarfapino. A noble from Ortona and the second son of a great merchant house.
Wait, Scarfapino?
The Scarfapinos whose marriage talks with Mores were reportedly in the works?
“Likely the wealthiest house in Delcross. Young Lord Ricardo is quite the social butterfly, famous for holding regular gatherings with heirs of prominent families.”
The letter itself was resplendent in gold, reeking of money.
Discussions on continental politics, economic shifts, trends in the arts—it was probably one of Delcross’s most mainstream social events.
He doubted such a person had any real connection to the utter failure Mores, but…
Oh, right.
“Even so, once every two months or so, you would head to the townhouse to meet with friends.”
Edwina’s offhand comment came to mind. Mores’s only known social contact had been the younger Scarfapino son. Could that be this guy?
Seongjin took another look at the invitation.
Gathering in ten days. Worth checking out.
The third sender was Kenneth Digory. Fourth son of the second son of Archbishop Digory, head of the administrative bureau.
What? A bit ambiguous position for anything important?
Even Masaine tilted his head.
“He’s not well-known in society, and I had no idea he hosted regular gatherings like this. I heard he entered the theological academy, but he hasn’t appeared much at official events since.”
In other words, even Masaine didn’t know much about him. Seongjin pondered as he stroked the sleek black envelope.
It seemed a bit low-class for inviting a prince, but considering the ruined prince’s reputation, this level might be the minimum to treat Mores like a person.
More than anything, the closing line caught his eye.
“Your old friend, Jonathan McAlpin, also eagerly awaits seeing Your Highness once more.”
Besides the Scarfapino son, did Mores have anyone else you could call a friend?
“Do you know this Jonathan fellow?”
At Seongjin’s question, Masaine shook his head.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know Your Highness’s personal connections in detail. At least he’s not someone known in society.”
“Hmm, I see…”
The gathering was in three days, conveniently the soonest. Maybe go just to get some air?
At that point, Seongjin still thought of it so lightly.
Time passed smoothly after that.
Having quit his ill-suited detective work, Masaine returned to the training grounds the next day. He stared in disbelief at his disciple, who had reached the fourth layer of aura in his absence, then sighed.
“How could someone with such talent have wasted so much time until now…?”
Count Masaine, didn’t you say something like that before?
Well, his feelings were understandable. Hunter Seongjin was pretty impressive, after all.
At long last, the long-awaited aura circulation training began.
Seongjin assumed he’d be freely circulating aura and swinging a sword by the end of the first lesson.
He quickly revised that notion, however. Count Masaine taught each movement slowly and meticulously, step by step.
Even once Seongjin thought he had mastered a form, Masaine wouldn’t move on. He drilled it relentlessly until it was ingrained in his body.
Whether he was a good teacher or not was debatable, but he pursued perfection in form so thoroughly that no bad habits could form.
As expected of introductory training—it was tediously slow, even for Seongjin, who was used to repetitive drills. He had cut back on meditation over two days to focus, but he still hadn’t moved past the first form!
The resident knights sharing the training grounds had different opinions, though.
“Your Highness, your progress is incredibly fast.”
As Seongjin was about to vent his frustration, Sir Kurt soothed him.
“At this rate, you’ll finish the first and second forms within a week? That means you’ll have graduated the basics.”
Is that so?
Sir Kurt was one of the few senior knights and had a serious personality that didn’t mince words. His assessment was trustworthy.
“For me, Your Highness? When I started as a squire, it took a whole four months just on the first form! And that wasn’t even slow compared to the knight order average!”
Count Masaine had ridden me so hard back then, I nearly deserted.
Lady Claudia, whose round face and freckles were her charm points, pouted.
Over time, Seongjin had grown acquainted with other knights besides Mariana and Haven. More than half were volunteers dispatched from elsewhere hoping to earn some drinking money, so they were generally approachable and cheerful.
There were still occasional stares of contempt like in the beginning, but considering Mores’s old reputation, it was practically an improvement. Seongjin decided to overlook minor rudeness.
Time flew by as he trained at the grounds and occasionally read children’s books until the day of the gathering arrived.
With just Count Masaine and Sir Kurt as his modest escort, Seongjin set off for a quiet residential area on the capital’s outskirts. Even then, he regarded it as little more than a casual outing.
Until the six or seven young men cloaked in dark robes welcomed him in unison.
“Welcome to the gathering of the Black Prophets.”
Seongjin unwittingly held his breath.
Another outrageously suspicious secret society, right here!