Chapter 41: Kindred Spirits
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 41: Kindred Spirits
Ferda dreamed.
It wasn’t a fragmented blur of images, but a vivid reminiscence born of memory. It was an event that had happened to him once upon a time—something so trivial he had simply relegated it to the dusty corners of his mind.
The scenery of that forgotten memory began on a balcony.
Beyond the railing, plumes of black smoke rose from various points within the Imperial walls. The powder keg the Empire had long harbored had finally detonated, and the fires of rebellion were erupting everywhere.
A woman stood there, watching it all. She leaned against the balcony, staring down as if in a trance, looking every bit the tragic heroine.
—The Empire is burning. It’s so bright...
Ferda watched her in silence.
—Are you happy now?
The question was directed at him, laced with a resentment that suggested all of this was his fault. Ferda let out a hollow laugh at her sheer audacity.
"They are dying because of you, Olivia Arken. If you hadn't stepped forward, they wouldn't have had to suffer like this."
Olivia Arken.
The Empire's greatest beauty and a devout believer in Alte. She, who was hailed as the essence of purity, was the very person who had turned her blade against the Empire. Had she not led the charge, screams would never have echoed within these great walls.
—I thought it would succeed, she said, her voice sounding distant. —If I could lure my second brother and incite the masses... yes, it was something that could have been achieved. If that had happened, the rebellion would have ended easily.
She turned her head. With her striking blue eyes and golden hair, Olivia Arken was smiling radiantly.
—But... an absurd man like you tipped the scales.
In stark contrast to that radiant smile, crimson stains began to spread across her face.
Blood.
It wasn't Olivia's. It belonged to the master of the room—the 1st Imperial Prince—who lay dead on the bed, slumped with his trousers half-down. He had met his end by the dagger she still clutched in her hand.
The 1st Imperial Prince was dead by her hand. The 2nd Imperial Prince had become a traitor; if his rebellion failed, he would face public execution.
And Olivia... she would not die.
—Instead, I'll become the Emperor's plaything. I'll be put up at some cheap auction house, and he'll use my body as a hostage to secure loyalty. Just like my lovely sister did.
Olivia muttered under her breath, then reached out a hand. Her tight-fitting silk gloves were more than just stained; they were dripping with fresh, red blood.
—Before I'm put up in such a filthy auction... would you like to hold me?
Ferda did not answer. It wasn't that he was conflicted; the proposal simply wasn't worth a response. After holding her hand out for a long time, Olivia finally gave up.
—As I thought... you hate me, don't you?
It was as she said. Ferda hated Olivia. He had felt it vividly the first time he saw her, and every time their paths crossed since.
—What is the reason?
That emotion wasn't something Ferda had forced out of spite, nor was it born of jealousy.
"You are just like me."
It was a loathing born from the recognition of a kindred spirit. Ferda hated the Rosnova family that had cast him out, and Olivia hated her own kin. Ferda felt a deep repulsion toward her life because it so closely mirrored his own. Perhaps even then, he had been subconsciously aware that something about him was fundamentally broken.
—I see. Because we are the same, we run on parallel lines forever?
Olivia resigned herself to the truth, yet the smile fixed on her face did not fade. That smile was her mask—a thick, impenetrable facade crafted over many more years than Ferda’s to hide her resentment and murderous intent. It was something that would never break until the moment she died.
—It's a shame. I thought you would be alright.
Her smile twisted sorrowfully.
—I mean it.
Then, Olivia’s body tilted backward. She threw herself down toward the burning Empire.
* * *
When Ferda opened his eyes again, an opulent, unfamiliar ceiling greeted him. Tilting his head, he realized he was within the Imperial Palace. Surrounding the walls were the Imperial Guard and even a commander-level knight.
"Oh, you're awake?"
A sweet voice welcomed him. A blonde woman closed the book she was reading and offered a gentle smile.
Olivia Arken.
True to her reputation as the Empire's greatest beauty, her smile alone made it seem as if the room were filled with bouquets of flowers.
Ferda sat up and asked, "How long was I unconscious?"
"Hmm, about three hours."
"Three hours..."
It was strange. Despite being out for three hours, his body felt incredibly refreshed. He had never felt this way, even when being treated by Ruri.
"Is this perhaps your first time receiving treatment from the Alte Order?"
"Yes."
"Hehe, I thought so. The priests within the Imperial Palace are all of bishop rank. When you are healed by His light, you feel as if you've gained a new body."
"I see."
Ferda was impressed because, in his past life, he had never once entrusted his treatment to another. He trusted no one; he would rather have died than let someone touch his body.
I think I understand why a priest's healing is considered the best. He wondered if he should bring a resident priest into his own castle.
"According to the reports from the rescue teams..." Olivia shifted the subject toward the Sealed Warehouse. "The magic investigator, Yuren, is dead, and you, Regent, were heavily injured."
"Yes."
"I don't know the exact details, but an Ice Possession Scroll was found on Yuren's body, along with the skin discoloration typical of Marbas's contractors. Did he fall to the devil's temptation?"
Ferda nodded. "That is correct."
"I see... To think an investigator would fall for a devil's lure... You were lucky to survive."
Olivia gave him a searching look and lightly rested her hand on his. Ferda looked down at her hand. His own hands were small for the son of a knightly family, but hers were even more slender and petite.
"As you said, the magic investigator, Yuren, was corrupted and attacked me." Ferda raised his eyes to meet hers. "However, the causality is wrong."
"What do you mean by that?"
"He didn't attack me because he was corrupted. He intended to kill me from the start. He didn't even hesitate to fall into corruption just to finish the job."
"Uh... you mean he intended to kill you, Regent, from the very beginning?"
Her eyes flickered with feigned confusion. But Ferda knew. She already understood the entire situation. Because Olivia was the only one who desired this outcome.
"Yes. He brought me into the Sealed Warehouse specifically to assassinate me."
"Why?"
"To kill me and create a pretext—that he had to execute me because I couldn't resist the temptation of the Sealed Warehouse."
At those words, Olivia's eyes widened. "To kill someone... to do something so cruel? What on earth could he gain by killing you, Regent?"
"I wonder." Ferda smiled softly and looked her in the eye. "Would you care to tell me?"
Olivia's face froze for a moment. Their blue eyes locked. Beyond a simple gaze, they were engaged in a silent battle of wits, probing for intentions. After a long silence, Olivia raised her hand.
"Knight Commander."
"Yes, Princess."
"May I speak privately for a moment? I wish to be alone with him."
"Alone... you say?"
"Yes. Just the two of us."
The Knight Commander looked troubled, but Olivia looked at him with moist, pleading eyes. "I'm asking you, please?"
Looking into those eyes, the Knight Commander blushed as if enchanted and nodded. "I understand. I shall do as the Princess wishes."
"Thank you, truly..."
The Imperial Guards filed out. The blue eyes that had been moist for the Knight Commander blinked once. In that instant, the 'Flower of the Empire' and the 'Essence of Purity' vanished completely.
"You think..." Olivia's airy voice plummeted to a chillingly low register. The change was so drastic that even Ferda felt a reflexive chill. "That I instigated Yuren to assassinate you, don't you?"
She was quick-witted. She wasn't just a product of her reputation; she was truly exceptional. Ferda had expected her to argue or try to gloss over it. Instead, she had offered the most direct answer possible. For him, who had intended to hold her responsible and cause an uproar, it was a sharp counter-blow.
"This is the first time I've talked like this with someone. Especially with a man."
"So, will you tell me, Princess?" Ferda spoke with heavy sarcasm.
Olivia no longer smiled like a fool. "First of all, it's true that I have a connection with Yuren. He did many things for me."
A magic investigator could enter and exit the Sealed Warehouse. Stored there were forbidden magics, black magic, and dangerous information—things that could become the Empire's shame and its greatest weaknesses.
"But if I said Yuren's actions were a deviation caused by excessive loyalty... would you believe me?"
"I am a man who was nearly killed just moments ago," Ferda replied. Would I believe that?
Olivia nodded calmly. "I once spoke with him about what could deal a great blow to this Empire—specifically, what could shake the Emperor's authority. How we could..." She smiled faintly, like a young girl harboring a long-held dream. It was an expression of pure, raw emotion. "...kill the Emperor."
An ordinary person would have shivered at her twisted expression. But Ferda empathized with her. His mouth felt bitter.
"Attempting to use the Archduchess was, yes, one of the scenarios I was considering. She was already greatly disappointed in the Arken family once, wasn't she? If she were disappointed once more, it would be difficult for the Emperor to survive even if he bowed his head."
"Then it would have been perfect if I had died."
"Not at all." She leaned forward slightly. A subtle, natural perfume wafted from her. "And even in this moment as we face each other, I am becoming certain that the plan was wrong."
"In what way?"
"You hate me, Regent." The insight hidden beneath her eyes shone blue. "I can feel it. You loathe me deep down. From the very first moment we met. It's not that you hate me because you're like a child who doesn't want to show their feelings, but that you truly dislike me..." She grinned. "I suppose you don't like 'pure' women much? The kind who are a bit dim-witted and can't do anything on their own. Men usually fall head over heels for women like that."
Ferda did not answer. Olivia pulled back, not particularly caring for a response.
"There are many people willing to give me their heart and soul. But there is no one who actually sees me."
Ferda hated her. That was why he didn't fall for her gestures or rhetoric; he looked at her steadfastly for who she truly was.
"I need someone like that. A comrade, not a slave."
"A slave would be more convenient, wouldn't it?"
"Yuren was a slave to me. A slave's excessive loyalty always causes problems. They often go ahead with things I didn't even ask for, trying to please me." Olivia sighed as if she had a headache. "Some local noble once sold all his assets to prove himself and brought a million roses."
A romanticist of the century.
"Who was that?"
"I don't know. I had him executed immediately before even asking his name."
And the most pitiful fellow.
"I don't want someone who sells my castle because they want me, or someone who sells their people into slavery. For my ultimate goal, they are useless."
On the surface, she was saying it was for the commoners. But Ferda knew better. Olivia would start a rebellion and cause countless deaths.
"And yet, did you intend to raise a black mage for the Empire?"
"Oh, were you suspicious of me for that too?" She blinked, covering her mouth. It was a natural suspicion, given she wanted the Empire to fall. "Hmm... hearing you say that makes me a bit sad. Then it can't be helped. I'll just have to show you how sincere I am, won't I?"
She lowered her head toward her hand, which was still resting on Ferda's. Mana began to circulate through her body, skillfully concentrated into her right arm. In that moment, something amazing happened.
A white, glowing pattern was etched onto the back of her hand.
"Do you know what this is?"
"...A Stigmata."
A divine Stigmata. It was a blessing bestowed by God when a follower made an absolute vow, granting the possessor immense power. Because it granted such strength, it was not given lightly; it formed only through intense desire and qualification.
"This is a pattern called the Vow of Revenge. According to the doctrines of Alte, revenge is not permitted against those under the Light, but is directed toward those who satisfy their own selfish desires and act against the will of the Light."
The ones she had to protect were the commoners. The ones she had to take revenge upon were the Emperor and her brothers. The glowing mark was proof she had no connection to black mages; if she had, the Stigmata would never shine so brightly.
"There are so many agitators being framed as black mages these days that the essence has become blurred, but black mages are like vermin. I don't even want to use them."
"I see."
"And if I wanted the Imperial family to fall, I wouldn't use a shallow trick like black magic. If black mages run rampant, only the citizens get hurt—and if the citizens get hurt, the Emperor's power only grows stronger." Olivia toyed with her lips as she laid out her deductions. "If there's someone who would benefit from black mages entering... it would likely be my second brother."
"The 2nd Imperial Prince."
"Yes. He is the one who most desires the strengthening of the military. The reason he goes on conquests is to gather more power. If he creates a need for external forces, no one can stop him from bringing in the connections he's made abroad."
Listening to Olivia, Ferda marveled once again at the depth of her thoughts. He knew she wasn't stupid, but this was something else. He was also certain that if he hadn't been around, she truly would have succeeded in killing the Emperor.
"Anyway, as proof of my sincerity, I will use my influence to ensure you aren't held responsible for Yuren's death. I'll also handle the matter of the books lost during the struggle. Can't I just continue to prove myself like that in the future?"
As expected, she already knew. She knew Ferda had approached the Sealed Warehouse with his own purpose.
"Does someone engraved with a Stigmata just let someone who could become a black mage go?"
"Oh? Alte, the God of Light, prefers certainty over suspicion. We don't know how the information was leaked, and it would go against doctrine to recklessly suspect a Regent who is devoted to his subjects."
In other words, if she didn't dig into it, the matter was closed.
"So, please, will you cooperate with me in the future?" Olivia Arken made her proposal. "I know the local lords do not like the Emperor's actions. Among them, the neglected Far East has a particularly deep grudge. I believe you feel the same, Regent. If you cooperate, I will lend my strength to support and give a voice to the Far East Region."
She squeezed his hand. A hint of sensuality touched her face. "I'm sure we could be good partners... or perhaps even more."
The temptation was thick. Ferda could understand why men were helpless before her. Even knowing it was a calculated move, she naturally drew out a man's instincts.
"I understand. Then I shall exert my strength this time."
"Thank you. But... what do you mean, exert your strength?"
Simultaneous with Olivia's question, the hallway outside grew chaotic.
—Intruder detected! Level 1 alert! Everyone, transition to combat readiness!
They had arrived quickly. Ferda pulled his hand from Olivia's and stood up from the bed. He suddenly remembered something and looked back at her.
"You said I dislike pure people, didn't you?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes."
"I do like them—pure people."
Leaving those cryptic words behind, Ferda walked out.