Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Verdi Siblings
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“Haam.”
Past noon.
After pausing their busy footsteps for a moment and settling at the dining table, Deia, curled up in bed, stretched languidly.
Having slept in after quite a while, her body felt light and refreshed.
A soft smile formed naturally. She brewed coffee in her pajamas, with no need to mind the servants or furrow her brow over estate affairs, rushing into work as if chased by something.
“I was so tense when I first entered Graypond.”
When she heard Deus had surrendered, she thought another massive incident was about to erupt.
But upon arriving and checking, it turned out he was receiving the king’s favor instead.
Moreover, hearing that he had resolved Princess Elenoa’s chronic illness put Deia’s mind at ease.
“They say he has to resolve some ordeal or whatever, but he’ll manage just fine.”
She took a sip.
Deia moistened her throat with coffee and subtly turned her gaze to the window.
In the guest room at the palace, an utterly satisfied smile graced her lips.
She’d heard meals would be brought separately—what might they serve?
Anticipation swelled, bringing a quick smile.
“Vacations are wonderful.”
She’d left the estate affairs to her eldest brother, Darius, but he’d handle it well enough.
She took another sip of coffee.
Curious about the beans for such a fine taste, she was about to check the packaging with quick steps when—
Clunk!
The door burst open, and knights in armor poured in. Startled, Deia recoiled, wondering what was happening.
Shing!
A chilling sound of a sword being drawn, aimed straight at her throat. The knights’ movements were precise, efficient, impeccably trained.
Among them, a captain with a red plume spoke.
“Deia Verdi! You are under arrest for high treason!”
“W-what?”
What nonsense is this?
Just yesterday, she’d knelt before the king, building a favorable image.
‘Deus?’
But Deia’s mind raced swiftly.
Something was wrong with the ordeal Deus was facing. The thought made her flare up instantly.
“De-Deus! What about him?!”
“Silence, traitor!”
“You can at least tell me that much! He’s my brother! What happened to Deus?!”
She knew she was throwing a fit, but she couldn’t back down.
Anxiety thudded dully in her chest, impossible to ignore.
But one knight behind her struck the back of her head precisely.
She lost consciousness like a light going out and collapsed to the floor.
That was the end of Deia’s vacation.
* * *
“Ugh.”
Hearing Deia’s groan, I subtly turned my gaze to the side.
When she was thrown unconscious into the cell, I was a bit flustered, but for now, I sat her beside me, lending my shoulder.
To anyone watching, it might look like she was just sleeping.
“Ow, my head.”
Awakening, Deia scowled, shaking her head side to side.
Her eyes met mine exactly, realizing she’d been leaning on me. She flapped away like a startled chicken.
“Whoa, damn! What the hell?!”
Then, her sudden vigorous movement brought on a headache; she clutched her head, grimacing fiercely.
After a brief moment for her wits to return, she noticed my jacket draped over her shoulder.
In the chilly dungeon, her pajamas alone wouldn’t suffice against the cold, so I’d covered her.
“Ugh, it’s cold.”
She glanced at me, then naturally slipped into my jacket, clearing her throat before asking.
“I get the gist of the situation, right? This is because of that ordeal or whatever?”
As expected of Deia.
I nodded in affirmation, and she let out a deep sigh.
“What the hell happened? The king seemed to think highly of you. How does treatment change like this overnight?”
“……I cannot say.”
She couldn’t know about this recklessly. One misstep could uproot the entire Griffin royal line.
“I got dragged into this too, and you can’t say?”
She reached out slightly, gesturing at the situation in protest, but I still couldn’t answer.
“Sigh, fine. No point shaking someone who won’t talk.”
Pouting, she sidled up beside me again, leaning on my shoulder like before.
“It’s cold, okay?”
She spat the sullen remark and turned her gaze outside the bars.
Not the Magic Inquisitors’ prison, but the palace-managed underground dungeon.
It held many inmates, and a considerable number of wandering evil spirits from the dead.
I could escape using them easily enough.
‘The problem is the archmage’s disciples.’
They glared murderously, ready to incinerate me the instant I showed any sign of using mana.
Plus, a manacle on my wrist sealed part of my mana, so even in a speed contest, I’d lose for sure.
“So. Are we getting executed together now?”
“……It’s possible.”
“Possible? There are other futures too?”
I affirmed with silence, recalling King Orpheus’s final reaction in my mind.
He’d teared up, ordering my arrest laced with apology and lament.
‘It’s different from the crumbling King Orpheus I saw.’
Not the route where he evades all blame, descending into madness and escapism.
He was clearly shouldering his responsibility, hence arresting me to cover the truth.
‘No such case in the game routes.’
Upon learning the truth, he either demands silence from protagonist Aria for the kingdom’s sake or goes mad, ending ambiguously with amnesia.
No direct arrests like this.
That’s why I saw hope here.
He couldn’t bear the responsibility fully, nor kill me to bury it completely. My arrest meant that.
By now, King Orpheus was likely agonizing alone, racking his brains.
Drowning in drink, bashing his head against walls, or holing up in a secret passage poring over related records.
I didn’t know his choice yet.
‘If it goes to execution, I’ll have to break out, no matter what.’
Before the audience, I’d hidden Remegaton separately—a place only the Black Necromancer and I knew.
She was shadowing the king now, watching his decision.
So I could wait calmly in the cell. If he chose execution.
‘No choice then.’
I’d seize the leash myself.
Escape with Remegaton and necromancy, then use the royal secret to collar Orpheus.
‘Not the direction I wanted, damn.’
Ultimately, the story flows my way.
The king would officially acknowledge me.
But not through sordid mudslinging.
I’d hoped for it amid true blessings and the king’s smile.
“Hey.”
As I organized my thoughts, Deia nudged my shoulder and called. Meeting her eyes questioningly, she looked at me with a strange expression.
“Fix your hair. It’s too long.”
“……You’re remarkably calm in this situation.”
“Our heads are already rolling. The outcome isn’t up to me. No, seriously, it’s too long.”
Fair point.
My hair was poised to poke my eyes any second. The back reached my nape.
“I’ll cut it later. Bald would feel refreshing.”
Deia fiddled with my hair freely.
Her brushing strands tickled my face, so I warned her.
“Joke moderately.”
“……I’m bored.”
Her grumbling voice muffled the approaching footsteps and tapping staff.
The archmage’s disciples startled, bowing hastily— I knew who it was instantly.
Archmage Rockpellican Linus.
He stood outside the bars, gazing at me pensively.
I didn’t rise, just looked up at him from beside Deia.
Rockpellican sighed and bowed his head.
“I’m sorry.”
It was an apology laden with multiple meanings.
* * *
Verdi’s eldest son.
Guardian of the Northern Mountains.
Giant of the North, etc.
Darius Verdi, called by such grandiose titles, sat on the bed in a small Graypond hotel room, arms crossed.
Given his build, the room seemed tiny, but he waited silently, lips sealed.
Clunk.
Just then, his companions entered without knocking—the Scrap Merchants’ Three Musketeers from Clock Republic’s resistance.
Typical rude rebels, barging in. But Darius didn’t mind.
Training together, he’d surprisingly bonded well with the Scrap Merchants’ members.
They were more boisterous, no grudges, graciously admitting defeat—Darius liked that.
Except their leader, Pinden A.
Anyway.
A Scrap Merchant burst in urgently, making a fuss.
“It’s true! They’ve been arrested! The palace even seized the Verdi family carriage!”
“Hmm.”
Darius was here for one reason.
Following Deia to Graypond, he’d trailed her stealthily.
For Deia’s sake, he’d advised staying at the estate lest she get swept up with the traitor Deus and executed.
But the family black mage was exposed.
A crisis for the house.
As eldest, Darius couldn’t just wait—he’d followed secretly.
Things looked fine until yesterday.
No brutal arrests or army sieges; Deus and Deia enjoyed cozy time in the city.
The reports from Scrap Merchants had surprised Darius, yet warmed him.
But today.
Deia’s goods burned wholesale, carriage seized—Darius broke into cold sweat.
It meant one thing.
Deus and Deia arrested.
Black magic or other reasons, unknown.
“Whew.”
Darius gripped his sword tightly.
“Time to play the eldest son.”
Rash moves now could doom not just two lives, but the Verdi house.
Or was it already a matter of time?
Perhaps their long history ended already.
Setting details aside, Darius steeled himself, exhaled sharply, and declared.
“We break them out.”