Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Imperial Capital
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***
“Was the drink not to your liking?”
Marquis Yuriseu asked, sipping from a glass filled with blood.
“L-Lord Yuriseu? What in the world is this…”
“What is it that you fear so?”
Elizabeth’s face turned deathly pale.
“Are you afraid of death?”
“P-please…!”
“Ah, please do not be too afraid.”
Lord Crimson leaned in for a kiss, aiming for the nape of the struggling Elizabeth’s neck.
*CRUNCH!*
Lord Crimson’s fangs, now sharp and protruding, sank into Elizabeth’s neck.
“Death is a blessing.”
After the kiss, Marquis Yuriseu pulled away.
“It is like a flower petal, blooming brilliantly and withering beautifully.”
Before Lord Crimson no longer stood a beautiful noble lady. In her place was a shriveled corpse, like a mummy.
“In comparison, a deathless, immortal life…”
Turning his back on Elizabeth’s corpse, Lord Crimson continued.
“is truly transient, empty, and filled with meaninglessness.”
He spoke in a state of indescribable emptiness and twisted pleasure.
“Like a weed that will never bloom.”
He murmured softly to himself, his voice utterly hollow.
***
Sometime later, in Duke Sachsen’s office.
“Please send me to the Imperial Capital.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
At Dale’s audacious request, Lord Black quietly shook his head.
It was a message from the Imperial family, inviting Dale to the Red Magic Tower’s academy to praise the achievements of House Sachsen and the “Black Prince” against the Great Demonic Migration, and to foster exchange between the two towers.
Without a doubt, the influence of the Master of the Red Magic Tower, Marquis Yuriseu, was at play.
“Are you saying you wish to walk willingly into the jaws of death?”
“Marquis Yuriseu's son has also agreed to stay at the Black Magic Tower for the exchange.”
After all, the Red Magic Tower's proposal was for a mutual exchange.
“As long as we hold the heir to the Red Magic Tower’s Master hostage…”
Dale continued.
“They won't be able to make a rash move.”
“Have you already forgotten the Purifiers’ attack?”
“In the Imperial Capital, at the ‘Red Magic Tower's academy’ no less, if they were to lay a hand on the heir of Lord Black… Lord Crimson is not unaware of the repercussions such an act would bring.”
It would make enemies of all four magic towers and become a catalyst for a war that would engulf the entire Empire.
It would not end with the death of the Black Magic Tower's heir; it would mean that the other magic towers could no longer be free from the threat of the Red Magic Tower.
“Besides, from the Empire's perspective, the one they fear most is not me, but you, Father.”
At least, for now.
“…”
Dale’s words were not without reason. In fact, they were a flawless answer.
Even the Empire did not have the capacity to eliminate Dale and wage a total war against House Sachsen. Moreover, if such a situation were to unfold, House Sachsen would hardly be the only vassal to turn its back on the Empire.
“Then how do you explain the Purifiers' attack?”
“Perhaps…”
Dale began to speak.
“If they were truly determined to eliminate me, they wouldn't have sent a mere ‘twelve Purifiers’.”
“Hmm.”
“The Red Magic Tower is simply testing you and me, Father.”
“A test, you say.”
Lord Black burst out laughing, as if in disbelief.
It was just as he said. It was Dale who had remained cool-headed and assessed the situation from the start. As a father worried for his son, maintaining composure was another matter entirely.
“Then do you have another objective you wish to achieve in the Imperial Capital?”
“I want to see the Empire for myself, with my own eyes.”
Not some northern fiefdom or the Papal States.
“And since the Red Magic Tower has thrown down the gauntlet, it's only right that I respond in kind.”
In the Imperial Capital, the heart of the Empire. Against the Red Magic Tower, known as the “Executors of the Empire's Zeitgeist.”
“…I truly cannot fathom your thoughts.”
At Dale’s words, Duke Sachsen gave a low, bitter smile.
“I am simply thinking of you, Father, myself, and House Sachsen.”
Facing that bitter smile, Dale spoke.
It was, in every way, a typical conversation between the father and son.
***
The Imperial Capital, and the Red Magic Tower.
The Imperial Academy, affiliated with the Red Magic Tower, was more than just a magic tower's academy.
Its scale and curriculum were incomparable to those of other towers. It was a place that nurtured the Empire’s finest elites, a stage for socializing among noble children and for fierce, under-the-surface power struggles.
Graduating from the Imperial Academy and becoming a mage of the Red Magic Tower was a guaranteed ticket to success for the Empire's nobility.
The promising elites of the Empire.
Thus, the most talented children of the Empire's nobility flocked to the Imperial Academy, where the heat of competition was beyond intense. The graduation process itself was incomparable to that of other towers. Even if one reached the 3rd Circle, they could not graduate without passing the Red Magic Tower's “graduation exam.”
And it was just a few weeks before that very graduation exam.
That was when the greatest genius of the Empire, the young heir of House Sachsen, arrived.
At the very moment when the fiercest competition within the academy was unfolding.
***
Several years had already passed since the Emperor had secluded himself, making no public appearances.
Therefore, when the young heir of House Sachsen arrived in the capital, his procession, led by the Night Raven riders of his house, cut through the city streets, and he was greeted only by the Emperor's proxies.
“Ah, welcome. We have been waiting.”
The pro-Emperor nobles, led by Marquis Yuriseu. Each and every one of them had a repulsive appearance, as if they reeked of pig lard.
“Young Lord of Sachsen, you have made such a difficult journey!”
Nauseatingly slick smiles and flattery.
Among the serpents' tongues, a red-haired, handsome man was looking this way. How could he ever forget that face?
“…Marquis Yuriseu.”
“I have been waiting, Young Lord of Sachsen.”
The man who reigned at the pinnacle of the Red Magic Tower, who had earned the moniker Lord Crimson.
The greatest red mage on the continent, capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with Dale's father, Lord Black.
“It is an honor to meet you.”
“An honor, you say! I am the one who should be grateful that you accepted my unreasonable proposal.”
“I am deeply grateful for the invitation from the Master of the Red Magic Tower.”
“I have heard much about your exploits against the Great Demonic Migration, Young Lord.”
Dale bowed his head impassively in a show of respect, and Marquis Yuriseu smiled once more.
“That valor, to not limit yourself to scholarly pursuits but to volunteer as a warrior on the battlefield! It is a truly glorious tale of heroism that echoes ceaselessly throughout the Empire.”
“…”
But Dale did not answer immediately, merely maintaining his silence. He recalled the twelve Purifiers who had ambushed his cavalry on the upper Sachsen River that day.
This was the man.
This man had joined hands with the demons, sent in the Red Magic Tower's Purifiers… and led Dale and the Night Raven Knights of House Sachsen right into those flames.
He remembered his knights, who had been reduced to ash in the inferno that day.
Lightly biting his lip, Dale struggled to maintain his composure, concealing the hatred in his heart beneath a frigid calm.
“Every time the tales of the ‘Black Prince's’ valor ride the winds of gossip, I cannot help but be amazed.”
“People's stories are always prone to exaggeration.”
“Ah, surely not.”
Marquis Yuriseu laughed as if the thought was preposterous, revealing a glimpse of his white, slender teeth.
“That talent, hailed as the greatest in the Empire…! I am already looking forward to the skills you will display at the academy, Young Lord.”
“Dale of Sachsen, I humbly greet the representatives of the Imperial family.”
With Lord Badel and the elven mage Sephia flanking him as usual, Dale bowed his head respectfully.
Feigning the innocence of an eleven-year-old boy, in the very depths of a malice that seemed ready to devour him whole.
***
The young heir of House Sachsen was invited to the Red Magic Tower's Imperial Academy for an “exchange between Red and Black.”
The shock among the noble scions of the Imperial Academy was indescribable when they learned he would be joining the “highest 3rd-Circle curriculum” just weeks before the graduation exams.
Dale, the young heir of House Sachsen.
At the mere age of eleven, he had reached the 3rd Circle and broken through the 20th floor of the Tower's Trial. Moreover, the “Black Prince's” talents were not limited to magic alone. He was the greatest genius in the Empire, possessing the strategic mind and martial prowess to lead the Black-Red Brigade to victory, halt the Great Demonic Migration, and defeat an orc warboss.
They were not unaware of the Black Prince's fame, which gossips chattered about ad nauseam.
No, that was precisely why they could not stand it.
The highest curriculum of the Imperial Academy. A place where the most talented children of the Empire's nobility gathered, the starting point of their path to success as elite mages.
For that reason, the pride held by the students of the Imperial Academy was immense.
And from their perspective, Dale's fame was nothing more than an empty falsehood, bloated by exaggeration.
No matter if he was the heir to the Master of the Black Magic Tower, he was just an eleven-year-old brat. Someone from a backwater northern magic tower—had he truly even reached the 3rd Circle? And even if he had, was it a “Circle built up steadily through training”? What was his circle rotation speed? It probably couldn't even reach 100 RPM.
The Tower's Trial was surely the same. He must have received special treatment simply for being the son of the Black Magic Tower's Master. Furthermore, the victory in the Black-Red Brigade and the halting of the Great Demonic Migration were likely victories achieved by House Sachsen's knights.
It had to be a false reputation, forcibly inflated to boast and show off the “fame of House Sachsen.”
That was what the majority of the academy's students thought. No, it was the only way they could think.
Because to their arrogant eyes, Dale's talent was a truth they desperately did not want to accept.
Conversely, if they were to assume that the “Black Prince's” talent, as touted by the gossips, was true… then their entire lives would be negated by the talent of a mere eleven-year-old child.
The pride they held as the Empire's greatest elites.
Therefore, to acknowledge the “Black Prince's” talent was tantamount to denying their own worth, and it would not take long for their pride to shatter.