Chapter 320: To the Abyss, with You (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 320: To the Abyss, with You (4)
Lemain could not even allow himself a careless cough.
It wasn't a matter of royal authority, but of the sheer weight his position carried. A couple of coughs within the palace walls would become a severe hacking fit by the time the rumor left the gates. By the time it crossed Astrisha Street, it would be a cold, and once it passed the outer ramparts, it would have somehow transformed into full-blown pneumonia.
This wasn't just a simple case of wild speculation. A single cough could escalate into accusations of tax evasion or even ignite territorial wars. Ambitious lords might assume an ailing king could no longer audit their taxes properly, or conflicts might erupt between nobles backing different princes for the succession. It was an unavoidable problem, born from the fact that not every noble in the vast kingdom was intelligent, and not all of them had access to accurate information.
"I believe I heard mention of someone returning alone, and something about a tower. Was that about my sons?"
At his question, a profound silence fell.
It was so quiet that you could pinpoint the exact person who had just swallowed nervously. Dozens of pairs of eyes locked onto Lemain, who sat before a crystal plate unlike anything they had ever seen. With every subtle shift of their gazes, it felt as though one could hear the groaning of an old wooden door.
"I can send an army to your country."
He was a man who couldn't even cough freely. A man whose every gesture and glance was exaggerated and twisted into a rumor that eventually returned as undeniable fact. The nobles fell silent because they knew he understood this. They fell silent because the words of a King—who had never once acted on a whim precisely because he could never afford to—carried an immense, terrifying weight.
An army?
Where is he sending an army?
They exchanged frantic, bewildered glances. They were hearing things they could never have imagined before entering this chamber.
To the Secritia Royal Palace.
To be precise, that day had been utterly ordinary. The weather was bone-chillingly cold, but the sky was clear. The Noble Council was in session, and Lemain was conducting the meeting just as he always did. Randel stood by his side with his usual expressionless face, and Marquis Gray Brissen, who had yet to solidify his position, sat quietly, not uttering a word.
There was a crystal plate of unknown purpose on the table before Lemain, but no one had paid it any mind. Aside from that one detail, it was a perfectly normal day.
But then…
– Tell me what you want, and I will listen.
A voice suddenly cut through the council chamber. That low tone undoubtedly belonged to the Second Prince—no, the Crown Prince—who was on a grand journey to celebrate his birthday.
– Do you know what I want?
– War.
Just as the nobles’ jaws began to drop, Lemain raised a hand, pressing a single finger to his lips in a command for silence. Amidst the forced quiet, the conversation between the unknown speaker and Franz continued.
– I shall help you return safely on your own. The Third Prince will hardly enter the tower quietly.
When those words were spoken, Lemain had to bring his hand to his lips once more as the nobles threatened to break out into murmurs again.
– What I mean is, I never had any intention of betraying my brother from the very beginning.
There was no need to demand silence after the next line. The nobles, their faces drained of all color, turned as one to stare at Gray, as if to ask if he had just heard what they had.
Of course, even if they had caused a commotion, Lemain would no longer have been able to stop them.
Crack.
The sharp, far-from-quiet sound of knuckles cracking from the fist resting on the table spoke volumes about his state of mind.
Having received no explanation other than that Franz would contact him, Lemain had proceeded with the meeting, the crystal plate sitting inertly before him. He had been completely in the dark, and now, this disaster had unfolded.
Fortunately, he did not have to endure the suspense for long. Soon, Franz’s voice was heard again, and the screen on the plate lit up. It was then that Lemain delivered the answer he had been holding back.
Regardless of what a few coughs might imply.
Regardless of how a king's words, spoken before the entire Central Noble Council, might spread.
"...Solely for the sake of your single life."
It was a miracle he hadn't spat out worse curses. It was pure luck that he hadn't declared war on the spot, just as they wished.
Unaware of this, or perhaps not caring, dozens of pairs of eyes turned back to Lemain. More precisely, they stared at the crystal plate. The nobles couldn't see the screen from their angle, but judging by the circumstances, the person on the other side was undoubtedly Devlan.
"Lemain. It has been a while. Since this is such a sudden encounter, shouldn't a warm greeting come first?"
Devlan's leisurely voice drifted through the council chamber. In place of the nobles, who were left speechless by his unperturbed response, Lemain spoke.
"I politely requested that you host him well and return him safely. Yet you gave him flowers. To my son."
If Alan had heard this, he would have scoffed at the irony of who was lecturing whom, but that was the least of Lemain's worries right now.
"I have only now realized he dislikes them."
"Furthermore, you even uttered such disastrous words."
"Disastrous, you say."
"I heard you were ill. Did they mean you were sick in the head?"
Another silence fell. Not only the nobles of Kairis, who had just heard their king's blunt insult, but even Devlan paused for a moment.
"Ah, dear me."
Laughter burst from Devlan as he stared at Lemain. The chuckle, soft at first, soon grew into a hearty laugh, as if he had heard the most amusing thing in the world.
"I heard those exact words from someone not too long ago. To think I would hear them again so soon. You and that child truly resemble—"
Suddenly, Devlan’s smooth voice cut off. The screen went black.
His face grim, Lemain turned his head. The mage monitoring the device stepped closer to explain.
"Prince Franz has cut off the mana supply. Shall I reconnect?"
The receiving end didn’t need to expend mana, but the one speaking was Needlen, who was present to assist Lemain with the unfamiliar crystal plate.
Lemain stared at the dark plate for a moment before shaking his head. "No need."
"Understood. Then, how many people shall we dispatch to Secritia, Your Highness?"
Needlen’s calm expression and clear voice made it sound as if he were asking about a quick trip to the bookstore across from the palace. At his words, the nobles hastily turned away as if suddenly choking, hiding their faces from the King’s gaze.
Paying them no heed, Lemain closed his eyes for a moment to organize his thoughts. "We shall adjourn the meeting."
The words were for the nobles, not Needlen.
The dumbfounded nobles; Gray, who had been staring at Randel ever since Franz’s voice was first heard; and Randel, who felt nothing but a fervent wish for Franz to discard his ridiculous title so he wouldn't have to bow to him upon his return—all of them rose and filed out of the council chamber.
Even after they left, Lemain remained silent for a long while. Worried he might seem to be rushing the king, Needlen took a step back. He then exchanged a silent nod with Sword Master Siona, who stood quietly behind Lemain alongside the escort knight, Ren.
"Sir Jeia," Lemain finally said.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"How many will it take?"
"...Would it really take two mages to deal with one person?"
A cornered mage was a terrifying thing.
Smiling faintly, Needlen pointed a finger at the crystal plate and concluded, "Any single one of us will suffice."
One person. It wasn't that they couldn't, but that they simply hadn't. Just one person was enough to end the life of a nation's king. That was the power of Valkan.
"I like that answer."
Any single one. There was no need to ponder who that one person would be.
Soon, Lemain rose from his seat. "If he contacts us again, tell him to reinstate Sir Manasil."
"Understood, Your Highness," Needlen said with a bow.
As he was about to straighten up, Lemain’s voice echoed through the chamber once more.
"...And tell him to be careful. Pass that along as well."
A smile played on Needlen’s lips, his head still bowed. "Yes, Your Highness. I will be sure to deliver the message."
Without a trace of hesitation, Lemain swept out of the council chamber.
*
Franz had caught a glimpse of Randel standing beside Lemain. He found himself thinking it might be better to delay stepping down as Crown Prince just a little longer. He seriously contemplated praying to Serenti to ensure his abdication only happened after they arrived back in Kairis. When else would he get to see Randel bow his head and speak to him with formal honorifics?
While he was pondering this even more deeply than he had when choosing a name for Anne, Devlan, who had taken his eyes off the blackened crystal plate, spoke with a smile.
"I had no intention of telling the King of Kairis what the Third Prince is hiding. Seeing you cut the connection so hastily, it seems you aren't always so composed."
"I am never composed. Not always," Franz replied dryly, still not having touched a single thing on the table.
Devlan nodded, then looked back at the crystal plate. "You possess a truly marvelous object. Is hiding things a specialty of the Kairis Royal Family?"
"Not as impressive as Your Highness's eloquence."
"I shall take that as a compliment."
"Do as you wish."
"By the way, it would have been nice if I had known you better. I was so busy doubting everything that I missed the chance to appreciate your true worth."
"I recall asking you not to place any more expectations on me. Are you not the one who couldn't even believe what you had already experienced?"
Devlan nodded with a gentle smile. He took another sip of water and was about to reply when Franz spoke first.
"What will you do?"
"About what?"
"I believe I have given you what you need. Have I not?"
Hearing this, Devlan looked at Franz. He stared deeply, very deeply, into his eyes.
"...Indeed."
Alan Manasil. A preemptive strike by Alan Manasil.
Devlan had deemed it necessary. Although Franz had been the first to voice it, Devlan had undoubtedly been thinking the same thing. And Franz had just made it happen. Lemain, sick with worry for his son, would surely mobilize Alan Manasil—and Franz had managed it by deceiving them both.
"And here you said you had no intention of betraying your brother."
"Did you not say so yourself, Your Highness? That I am good at hiding things."
Devlan's snake-like eyes flicked toward the crystal plate before settling back on Franz's light green ones. The suspicious man pondered his choice: risk his life and take Franz's hand, or not.
"Very well. I shall place my expectations on you once more."
Franz blinked slowly. Then, without another word, he rose from his seat, offered a polite bow, and turned to leave.
"However," Devlan's voice stopped him. "Wouldn't it be better for you to remain in the Main Palace? Until this matter is resolved."
"Is this detention?"
"That depends on how you look at it."
It was a demand for him to act as a hostage. Devlan intended to isolate him from Calian, ensuring his own survival even if he were attacked by Alan Manasil.
Stopping in his tracks, Franz blinked slowly again. With his back still turned to Devlan, he spoke.
"I believe if you wish to gain a life, Your Highness, you must be willing to wager your own."
To mobilize Alan Manasil, start a war, suppress Chase, eliminate Calian, clear away every obstacle, and receive treatment—to gain that much, shouldn't Devlan have to wager his own life?
"Let's call it a precaution against any unforeseen events."
He had played the hostage at Demirea's mansion, and now he was being asked to play the same role here. The only similarity was that both instances were caused by a certain black-and-red, barking cat. The difference was that the first time had been voluntary. This time, it was not.
"I understand what you mean. However, aren't there things you can only obtain when you wager your own life, without any safety nets?"
Saying this, Franz turned around. Facing Devlan, who remained seated, he looked him straight in the eye and continued, "And... my life is far too expensive to serve as Your Highness's safety net. So, I must decline."
It was a life saved by treatment costs that even the astronomical salary of a Valkan healer couldn't cover. If he threw it away carelessly again, he couldn't begin to imagine how he would ever pay it back. It was time he started using it a bit more sparingly.
"I thought you threw your life away without any concern for your own safety. Did I misjudge you?"
"I do not throw it away carelessly." Franz tapped his toe against the floor once, twice. He debated whether to reveal one more thing Devlan didn't know, then spoke again. "I simply do not worry because there is no reason to."
After all, if he just lingered here like this…
...Brother.
He had a little brother who would surely come to save him. So why would he ever need to worry?
"What are you still doing in a place like this?"
Franz bowed slightly to Devlan. Then, he turned and walked away.
"Did you have a good meal?"
"I'm hungry."
"Perfect. I'm hungry too. Let's eat together."
"No."
"Alright."
Franz, who was excellent at hiding things but hadn't hidden anything from Devlan, and Calian, who had come to pull him out before he could be pickled, walked out of Devlan's office together.
– Have you decided on your wish?
– Not yet.
– Why?
– Because I don't know.
– It won't be valid after today. Hurry up and decide.
– ...Fine.
– Brother, you didn't sell me out to Devlan again, did you?
– I did, though.
– I see.
Two distinct sets of footsteps echoed down the hallway before fading away.
– You didn't really need to come.
– I was hungry. Wanted to eat quickly.
– Honorifics.
– I wanted to eat quickly, sir.
They left behind Devlan, who still couldn't believe a single thing, even after witnessing their completely genuine, unvarnished interaction—left to wonder whether those brothers actually got along or not.
– Did you put everyone here to sleep?
– Actually, I'm not very good at sleep magic.
Franz laughed silently. The knights had been beaten to the ground, and the chief chamberlain had been put to sleep with magic. Since no one was dead, they would all wake up soon, and Devlan wouldn't be able to say much about it.
– You must have been quite worried. My dear little brother.
– Yes.
What was there to worry about? The doorknob Calian had brutally smashed to get in was a bit of a nuisance, but it was just a doorknob. How expensive could it be?
They could just pay for the damages.
To Chase, who would soon become the master of this palace.
So, what was there to worry about?