Emperor Assassination (4)
“...Mm.”
With a flash, the emperor's eyes snapped open on the sickbed. Taking in Ambrosia's relieved smile, he quickly grasped the situation. His body was a wreck after teetering on the brink of death, but his ghostly willpower clung fiercely to the thread of life.
The emperor slowly pieced together his memories. He'd been poisoned by Kunter's drink. He'd barely managed to summon Gotberg, and he vaguely recalled the sounds from right when he arrived. Had Gotberg been the one to anchor his body to the living world? If he'd passed on like that, the empire would have plunged into chaos without its emperor, leaving nothing but regrets in his wake.
“Gotberg.”
“He treated Your Majesty and then headed to the culprit.”
The emperor pushed himself up, yanking out the IV line stuck in his arm. Ambrosia gasped in horror and tried to stop him.
“Your Majesty, you must rest!”
“An attack on me is an attack on the empire. I will respond immediately.”
Pain from the surgical site or nausea couldn't shatter his iron will. Ambrosia knew well that when the emperor got like this, he always saw his intentions through. She obeyed and prepared for his departure. Dressed in his imperial robes, he had already reverted to his usual charismatic self.
“We shall escort you to the Moonlight Palace.”
He boarded the carriage with his guards. At the Moonlight Palace, Asella, having heard the news, was already prepared and offering her respects.
“We rejoice in the restoration of Your Majesty's sacred body.”
“Asella, give me your report.”
At the emperor's command, Asella lifted her head, her eyes sharpening resolutely.
“The perpetrator who attempted Your Majesty's assassination has been captured and detained. Your Majesty's enemies are the empire's enemies. We stand ready not only for fitting punishment but to hold them to even greater account.”
Her anger was restrained, her hatred icy cold.
“Issue your imperial decree.”
Asella's resolute demeanor left a deep impression on the emperor. Having broken free from Camilla and entered the succession struggle, she had grown remarkably stronger with each passing day. In his daughter, who had shed even her girlish innocence, the emperor glimpsed qualities befitting an empress of the empire.
“You responded swiftly from the Moonlight Palace. I commend you.”
“I am deeply honored.”
“And Gotberg?”
“He was interrogating the perpetrator. I shall summon him at once.”
“I shall wait.”
As Asella turned to leave, the emperor called out as if something had just occurred to him.
“Asella.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“How are things between you and Gotberg?”
Caught off guard by the question, Asella pursed her lips tightly. Watching her struggle for a response, the emperor let out a light scoff and waved her off.
“That's answer enough. Go.”
“Yes.”
“How's the status?”
I descended to the Moonlight Palace's underground dungeon and met Tanya, who was on guard duty.
“No matter what we ask, he stays silent. We've got him in mana-sealing cuffs, so he can't pull any tricks.”
They were enchanted handcuffs that nullified spells—pretty expensive stuff, but the Moonlight Palace dungeon was equipped with them. The atmosphere was brutal, though. Solid stone walls with no gaps for even an ant, packed with all sorts of torture devices. Did the Moonlight Palace have torturers? Surely not Lucy, the head maid sis.
As I entered the cell, Libio looked up at me listlessly.
“How's the bed? Former priest Libio.”
With his limbs restrained, his body was covered in wounds—he looked like he could pass out any second.
“Oof, that's rough. You guys beat him too hard.”
“That wasn't me—it was the princess.”
“For real? Whoa...”
The holes in his limbs must've been from Asella's ice spears. Those hurt like hell. Still, no sympathy from me. I grabbed a wooden chair, flipped it backward, and sat in front of him.
“Let's talk. Got some good news.”
“......”
“I saved the emperor. Guy's got such strong willpower, he might wake up by tomorrow.”
Hearing that, Libio seemed genuinely thrilled—his shoulders twitched, teeth clacking together. Tanya must've knocked a few out, so it wasn't too loud.
“Gotberg...!”
“Yeah, me. No time, so let's cut to the chase.”
I got straight to the point.
“The curses you used this time—did you get them from Third Empress Camilla?”
Libio's rage boiled over, furrowing his brow.
“...I have nothing to say.”
“Better to admit it. For you, the empire getting even stronger would suck, right?”
“Stronger... than now? Perfectly complete?”
“Yeah. You're a healer dispatched from the Theocracy, so the empire gets perfect pretext to declare war. We're allies now, but sending an assassin after the emperor? That's grounds to mobilize the full army.”
Libio got it. The continent had dozens of nations, mostly small ones, with the big three being the empire, the Theocracy, and the kingdom. The empire, having conquered a third of the continent's land, was the superpower. The ceasefire on conquests for the past dozen years was just the emperor's whim—they had the military might to invade anyone anytime.
“If the empire swallows the Theocracy, continental unification wouldn't be far off. Completing the perfect map of the continent. An achievement for the history books, no?”
“...Ugh.”
Libio wasn't an ideologue or even pragmatic about interests. He was a hedonist. A psychopath who got his kicks from ruining things on the verge of perfection. Like a brat stomping on someone else's sandcastle. He couldn't stand watching the empire's golden age—supposed to end here due to his failure—reach even greater heights.
“Admit it, and this stays an internal empire matter. What do you say?”
That was the confession I wanted. The crystal orb footage wasn't ironclad proof. Hard to prove the vial he brought was the curse used on Kunter. Most crucially, we needed to link the emperor's assassination curse to Camilla for grounds to take her down.
“Will you execute me?”
At Libio's question, I grinned.
“Admit it, and yeah. Refuse, and I'll toss you in a torture chamber to squeeze out every last bit of info for life.”
He dropped his head at my answer. For him, living to see the empire's completion would be worse torture. Finally, Libio rasped out.
“...I'll confess. But execute me within a week.”
“Deal. Plea bargain accepted.”
After wrapping up the interrogation and heading up, Asella was looking for me.
“Young master, His Majesty wishes to see you.”
“Perfect timing. I've got something to report.”
As I headed to the reception room, she grabbed my arm.
“Nothing to say?”
“Hm, thanks are fine?”
Not satisfied, Asella frowned.
“That's not it. You ignored my orders again.”
“It worked out, didn't it? How many points do you think His Majesty will give the Moonlight Palace?”
“Well... but still.”
She bit her lip, unwilling to concede.
“Don't you value your life? How long are you gonna keep walking that tightrope?”
“No idea why you think it's a tightrope. I don't play games without a winning chance.”
“What if you fail? Lose a gamble where your life's on the line like this, and you won't even have excuses.”
“Pfft, treatment's not gambling.”
“So you'll keep ignoring my orders like this from now on?”
“Whoa, why blow it out of proportion?”
This was something I had to handle myself. Saving the family from extermination was obvious, and I'd dodged the hero party draft too. To Asella, without knowing my regression info or skills, it must've looked low-odds. But calling it gambling was harsh.
She wasn't backing down either, glaring at me with resentment.
“Young master, why won't you read my mood?”
“Huh... what?”
For a second, I doubted if I'd heard right. The Asella I knew was always haughty, never giving a damn about others' feelings—an untouchable lone wolf. If her mood soured, she'd punish them; if it improved, she'd drag them along. And I'd confirmed the past her wasn't much different, strutting around the marquessate or Moonlight Palace.
For thatAsella to say something like this meant she wanted something from me. Not just venting by punishing others, but fixing her mood with my reaction.
Asella's acting weird.
The unease I'd felt lately solidified into certainty. The Asella before me wasn't the worst tyrant or the golden witch.
“Princess, what do you want from me?”
At my clarifying question, she looked hurt and resentful.
“What else!”
“Tell me, or I can't know for sure. Why only with me?”
She let out an exasperated breath at my response. In a frail voice I'd never heard before, she let the words slip away like wind.
“You're my fiancé.”
Something she'd thrown at me countless times. What response did she want from that? As I hesitated, she shook her head sadly.
Midway, Asella blinked as if struck by lightning in her mind. Her expression shifted to one of doubt about a long-held belief—unbelievable.
“What do you think of me?”
Silence stretched as we stared each other down. After a moment, the emperor's secretary approached me.
“His Majesty summons you.”
Leaving Asella there, I headed to the emperor.
Entering the audience chamber, it was bustling.
“Daddy! You really okay? They said you nearly died—shouldn't you rest more?”
Rauga, having heard the news, clutched the emperor's hand, eyes welling up. He seemed pleased by her demeanor, his face gentle.
“Oh my god, Gotberg!”
She scampered over and hugged me without warning.
“You saved Father—thank you so much.”
“Just doing my jo—can't breathe.”
“Whoops, sorry. No Asella here, right?”
Rauga pulled away, sticking out her tongue and glancing around furtively.
“Nope. C'mere, one more hug.”
“Enough. How fares Your Majesty's health?”
I offered my greeting, and the emperor nodded.
“You've given me back my life, Gotberg. You saved not just me, but the empire.”
“Your words humble me. I couldn't have done it alone.”
“I heard from Ambrosia. You did well too.”
Ambrosia bowed to the emperor as well. Rewards could wait—there was still unfinished business, so I made my appeal.
“Your Majesty, the mastermind behind this is Priest Libio.”
“I heard. An assassin from the Theocracy?”
“Interrogation shows he's a lone hedonist acting for pleasure.”
“Thinking to plunge the empire into chaos single-handed. Bold fellow.”
The emperor, realizing how deranged Libio was, sounded impressed. Stroking his beard, he said,
“Once interrogation's done, set the execution date. Secretary, prepare a letter to the Theocracy.”
“Eek... Daddy, no war, right? I've been holding back on parties 'cause of the mood.”
“We'll respond based on the Theocracy's attitude.”
True to form for the emperor. Empire on his mind the moment he woke. But the Theocracy response could wait—something more urgent remained.
“Your Majesty, someone supplied curses to the culprit and collaborated.”
“A collaborator?”
Even fresh from his sickbed, the emperor's eyes blazed with vigor. His body wasn't fully recovered, but this spirit befitted an emperor.
“Someone inside the imperial palace.”
“Who?”
“Empress Camilla of the Earth Palace.”
At her name, the emperor understood instantly, wasting no time. Rising from his seat, he declared,
Third Empress Camilla of the Empire is hereby deposed effective immediately. Summon the knight orders. No mercy for black mages.