Chapter 195
Chapter 195
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 195
Chapter Title: Tutor
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In fact, from the Emperor's perspective, it had been a rather enjoyable social gathering.
Due to her chronic illness, the Dragon Blood Curse that gnawed at her body, the Emperor's public appearances were quite limited.
Her recent attendance at the Hero Selection Trials had been a rare exception, driven by the event's importance—normally, she was confined to the Imperial Palace, moving only as her personal physician advised.
In that sense, no matter how packed the place was with black-hearted schemers, just showing up here was a thrilling experience for her.
The orchestra's performance, the strong liquor, the greasy food, and the buzz of conversation.
For someone deprived of all kinds of stimulation, these were always novel pleasures she couldn't get enough of.
***
"So, did you enjoy the party, Your Majesty?"
That's why.
The faint smile on Cecilia XI's face vanished completely at the voice coming from beside her.
"Bogart."
"I'm sorry for borrowing your new friend without asking."
His tone was casual, treating her like an old friend, ignoring all etiquette.
The way he plopped down into the seat right in front of the Emperor without a second thought made his disregard for formality impossible to miss.
She could have him punished for lèse-majesté, but neither the Emperor nor Bogart cared about that.
He was the core of the Elder Council.
The leader of the Empire's faction that encompassed 'everyone' outside the Prime Minister's faction and the Imperial faction.
Both he and the Emperor knew he held enough power that clashing openly could tear the Empire apart.
"Here's a gift for you, Your Majesty. It must have been tough coming all this way."
As the Emperor stared at Bogart in silence, those words dropped casually.
"Mistletoe's Breath. The liquor known as the Empire's eastern treasure. It should at least ease your pain sufficiently."
...
It looked no different from regular wine on the outside, but it clearly had a mystical blue hue unlike ordinary alcohol.
The liquid trickled from the uncorked bottle, slowly filling the glass in front of the Emperor.
"So."
Bogart said in a flat voice.
"When do you plan to fight?"
...
"I'm talking about the civil war. I'm planning to start one soon."
The Emperor's expression twisted.
'...What a madman.'
She already knew the Elder Council's movements, centered around this man, were far from normal.
But she hadn't expected him to state his intentions so bluntly and calmly.
"Oh? Why the surprised look?"
Bogart Marquis tilted his head.
"You already knew, didn't you?"
Cecilia XI's face twitched.
"...I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You must have sent Dawood Campbell with some listening device or whatever. You planned to use him as a pawn from the start."
...
"And you didn't approach him with pure intentions either, did you, Your Majesty?"
More words followed in the silence.
"You set up the perfect narrative. The pitiful Emperor. The vicious Elder Council leader plotting to devour the nation. Anyone unaware would fall for it hook, line, and sinker."
...
"That man is especially weak to people who show him kindness first. Once he sees someone as 'one of his own,' he can't help but protect them. That's what you targeted, wasn't it? Slyly. Probing at his weaknesses like a predator."
All while wearing that infuriating grin.
It was a barrage of insults.
Statements that went beyond lèse-majesté, enough to warrant hanging.
"...You're no different. A monster moving for your 'goals,' just like me."
Cecilia XI offered no real response.
Instead, she simply picked up the glass Bogart had brought and drained it to the bottom.
Seeing that, Bogart spoke again.
"How courageous, Your Majesty! A true Emperor of the Empire!"
...
What kind of reaction was that? As the Emperor narrowed her eyes at him, another sentence followed.
"Drinking something from your enemy without a second thought—what if it had been laced with deadly poison!"
"...Who knows."
Cecilia XI let out a deep sigh in reply.
"Even you wouldn't stoop to something that heinous—"
"Liar."
The word cut her off before she finished.
Bogart's smile was gone.
His face was blank.
Except for the glint in his eyes, a gaze that made the air around them feel heavier just by meeting it.
That gaze swept over the sliver of bare skin peeking from the Emperor's clothing.
More precisely, the faint view beneath it.
The veins darkened and corrupted by the curse.
"You drank it because it could lift that curse. You'd do anything for that."
...
Cecilia XI said nothing.
"Honestly, you didn't care if it was poisoned or not, did you? This body's got maybe a month left anyway."
...
To the end, the Emperor remained silent.
As if she didn't even feel the need to deny it.
"...Thanks for the gift, Bogart."
Instead, she rose from her seat, leaving those words behind.
"And allow me one piece of advice for our Emperor, so concerned with her own survival."
As she turned to leave, more words followed.
"Do you know the biggest reason the Elder Council grew this powerful, Your Majesty?"
"...Have a good evening."
The Emperor tried to ignore him and keep walking, but he showed no sign of stopping.
"The Red Night Incident."
...
"The Imperial Family's response back then was the worst. If the Tristan Ducal House hadn't bowed to the Guardians and begged for help, who knows how much of the Empire the Red Devil would have burned."
...
"Thanks to that lack of leadership, plenty of nobles lost faith in the Imperial Family. And they all flocked to the Elder Council."
It seemed he wasn't going to let her go easily.
The Emperor sighed inwardly once more.
"What are you trying to say, Bogart?"
"No, I'm just curious how it'll be different this time."
Bogart grinned as he continued.
"The Red Night is coming again soon. Much more... spectacular than before."
"...What?"
"If I start the civil war, it'll be around then. Just like last time."
...
The bold declaration of rebellion left the Emperor stunned.
...
A madman.
There was no other way to put it.
As the Emperor stood there dumbfounded, Bogart winked at her.
"Please handle it well."
Bogart downed his wine with those words.
Elegant poise.
Unmistakably.
A gesture only a madman with clear eyes could make.
***
[...So, why are you sneaking out alone like you're running away?]
Inside the carriage slipping out of the Imperial Palace, Caliban whispered that.
Right after the social ended, I'd hopped into a carriage and bolted—it wasn't wrong.
"I've got all sorts of preparations to make... and not much time left before it starts."
[Even so, you dragged people all the way to the palace because of you.]
He meant Elnor and Eliya.
Sure, ditching them without a word and going solo would probably get me an earful later.
But I had my reasons.
"Things are just too hectic right now. Asking them to tag along for all that is too much..."
I had to hit Elpante in two days, then head straight to the Holy Kingdom.
First, one favor to ask of Walter, dean of the Holy Faculty.
Second, business with Archbishop Luminol in the Holy Kingdom.
But even more pressing than that schedule.
"...Eliya's been weirdly avoiding me."
She was the star of this Main Quest, so I'd planned to prep her properly.
But she was outright refusing to meet.
I didn't think I'd done anything wrong. Why?
'...Probably not a big deal.'
The third trial was barely a trial at all.
Unlike the previous ones with dungeons or monster-infested forests, this was just an 'inspection.'
Could this human touch the holy sword without dying? A thorough check.
I didn't need to help with that.
[...Well, after seeing what she did, it's no wonder.]
"Pardon?"
[She saw two things at once: something heartwarming... and something heartbreaking. She's probably not in her right mind. Leave her be.]
...
No clue what he meant.
As I tilted my head, Caliban chuckled, brushing it off.
[So, what are you prepping this time?]
"...Well, a few things."
Archbishop Luminol had pulled all sorts of pranks on me during this trial.
This was payback... and prepping a 'stage' for the final trial.
I fiddled with the lion-head breastplate in my pocket as I thought that.
Without his help, jamming this into the Red Devil would be tough.
[...]
"...What?"
I asked at the sullen silence, despite my honest answers.
Caliban replied in a voice thick with dissatisfaction.
[You answered the second question first, which means you don't want to talk about the first one either, right?]
...
[You're probably planning something with the breastplate I brought from the palace. If you're going to that weirdo Walter, you're enchanting it or something.]
...
[Spill it. What are you doing to my relic? What's the scheme you're hiding from me?]
...
'A dog from the schoolyard recites poetry after three years.'
He was glued to me closer than anyone, so he had my habits pegged.
Scary. So scary.
...
Truth be told, I was hesitant to say it.
It felt like asking him to do something pretty awful.
Like how I'd slotted Valkasus and Caliban into the Soul Linker, this breastplate needed a 'catalyst' too. Only then could I use it as planned.
The problem was the prerequisite for that.
[Item Info]
[ ▲ Tatiana Grachel ] [ Fabricated ]
[ Specialty: Curse ]
[ Form: Wraith ]
[ Fabrication Options ]
▶ Subordinate as Familiar
▶ Bestow as Enhanced Material on Item
▶ Full Resummon (Dissipates after 1 use)
...
I sighed at the window floating before me.
"Uh, Caliban."
[Yeah?]
"...Ever trained a woman before?"
A terrifying silence echoed through the Soul Linker.
I pressed on regardless.
"...I need to, uh, 'educate' her to make use of her?"
[...]
"You have to help me."
[...I'm realizing this now more than ever.]
Caliban replied in a low voice.
[You're drifting further from being human.]
"...I'm always wary of the Heavenly Seal's influence—"
[No, that's not the issue.]
...
[Even without it, you're just not human.]
Ouch. Cut me some slack.
***