The Send-Off
The Kodana Exchange.
Even though the trading floor had long since closed for the day, countless investors lingered nearby, haunting the grounds like hollow specters. In the reception lounge, across the entrance steps, even sprawled out on the cold, bare paving stones—in every imaginable posture and with faces drained of life, they swallowed their festering grief and rage.
Among them stood one man whose frantic expression set him apart. He was not yet advanced in years, yet his hair had already turned half-gray. With a stooped back and nervous, darting eyes, he looked thoroughly worn down. It was Professor Weber of the Imperial Academy's Magic Department.
In truth, he could no longer be called an investor. Just a few hours ago, he had liquidated every last Kodana coin he possessed and fled the exchange as if running for his life. Upon returning home, he had even clapped the shoulder of his son—who was preparing to enter the Academy—and exhaled a long, demonstrative sigh of relief.
"Son, I dumped them all. The moment I bit the bullet and put them on the market, a buyer actually stepped up. You know the Kingdom of Lesotona? That little realm bordering the Grand Forest? Some noble from down there scooped them right up as if he'd been waiting his whole life for the chance."
"Your father has been acting a little unhinged lately, hasn't he? Well, you don't have to worry anymore. I'll just write it off as an expensive life lesson and put it all behind me. ...What's five hundred and ninety million lira, anyway? Nothing. A drop in the bucket."
It had been a desperate bluff, spoken entirely to soothe his son's fears. Yet five hundred and ninety million lira was hardly an amount one could brush aside with a casual 'what's that anyway?' It was enough to purchase two fine, respectable townhouses in the prestigious 3rd District. Even for a magic professor with a healthy stream of secondary income, it was a catastrophic financial blow.
Still, I have to let it go. I must forget it.
Shut away in his study, Professor Weber had repeated those words to himself like a mantra, swearing that he would never so much as cast a glance toward the exchange ever again. Yet that vow had crumbled almost immediately. Before he even realized what he was doing, he had slipped out of his house and wandered right back to the exchange.
It was not that he wanted to jump back into the Kodana market.
I have to see it with my own eyes.
He needed to confirm, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that his decision to slash his asking price and escape this hell had been the right one. If the price had rebounded even an inch, he felt as though his heart would rupture. Knowing full well that staying away was the wisest course, he despised himself for sneaking around here like a petty voyeur, unable to turn away.
Fortunately, Kodana had not rebounded at all. In fact, it had nose-dived straight down to thirty million before trading halted. The investors stood around in total shock, their faces etched with numb devastation.
"...Look, that's Professor Weber. What's he doing here?"
"Phew... I should've cut my losses and followed him out. When it comes to using their brains, you really can't beat a mage."
Overhearing their hushed murmurs, he felt his burning anxiety ease just a fraction.
I was right after all.
Professor Weber let out a quiet sigh of relief and clenched his fist in vindication. Escaping at forty million was, comparatively speaking, a stroke of immense good fortune. Yet his relief was short-lived. Before long, an unspeakable wave of self-loathing washed over him.
To take comfort in the sight of people drowning in utter despair, to stroke his own ego with the hollow consolation that his ruin was slightly less absolute than theirs—it felt sickeningly pathetic.
How did I ever sink this low?
Staring vacantly into empty air, Professor Weber acutely realized just how broken he had become. Come to think of it, despite holding a tenured professorship, he had barely managed to teach a single proper lecture over the past two months. The entire Academy had fallen into utter shambles, of course, but Weber's negligence had been particularly egregious.
And to make matters worse, hadn't he already broken the solemn promise he made to his son—that he would never look at Kodana again? Drenched in wretched helplessness, he could only stare blankly at the ground. He lacked the courage to go home and look his son in the eyes.
Right then, an uproar erupted through the crowd.
"It's the Second Prince! The Second Prince is being escorted out of the palace!"
Someone shrieked the words like a dying gasp. Even if the Demon King's army had suddenly laid siege to the Imperial Capital, it would hardly have incited such hysteria. Considering the devastation Matthias had wrought upon the market, he was frankly no better than the Demon King. After all, both catastrophic crashes were inextricably linked to his treacherous hands.
"That miserable bastard..."
"Expelled from the palace? Don't make me laugh. They're probably shipping him off to some countryside estate to live in luxury. If anything, he gets to kick back without anyone breathing down his neck!"
"Watch your mouth... he's still an imperial prince."
"Are you blind?! His name was struck from the imperial registry! That bastard's been stripped of his title and demoted to a commoner! A commoner, I tell you!"
From elderly nobles to twenty-year-old Academy students, everyone surged forward to give the former Second Prince their 'farewell.' Professor Weber naturally found himself swept along in the tide.
Locating Matthias took no effort at all. He was kneeling in the plaza near the exchange. Standing beside him was the shabby, disheveled Cardinal.
The Cardinal...?
For some reason, the prelate gripped a razor-sharp blade in his hand. He was not brandishing it to butcher Matthias, however; his weapon served an entirely different purpose: the Tonsure Ceremony.
"Though blessed with exalted birth, this sinner was blinded by avarice, abusing his authority and sowing ruin across the realm. Henceforth, he shall spend the remainder of his days toiling in the lowest and foulest depths of the Holy Kingdom to atone for his sins. ...As a first step to sever him from worldly vanity and worldly greed, we now perform the sacred Tonsure Ceremony."
The Cardinal seized Matthias by the hair with a merciless grip. The Cardinal's own head had already been shaved completely bald. Yanked backward by his scalp, Matthias thrashed in frantic resistance, his eyes wide and delirious.
"Did I force anyone to buy Kodana?! You all bought it because you wanted to! Why are you pinning this on me?!"
"Hold still."
"And what about you, Cardinal?! You jumped at the discount I offered on those Kodana coins, happily handing over the Holy Grail in exchange! And now you act like—"
Matthias violently jerked his head, fighting tooth and nail as if parting with his hair was worse than death. Watching this wretched spectacle, groans of revulsion and fury tore from the crowd. Some searched the ground for loose stones, while others bit down on their lips until blood welled up, trembling in uncontainable wrath.
"Rotten piece of shit."
"Because of that bastard, my uncle... *sob*..."
Yet spitting muted curses was the most these broken investors could muster. Even watching a former imperial prince get his head publicly shaved in disgrace before being cast out brought no catharsis. If anything, it only magnified their suffocating despair.
It was at that very moment that Professor Weber acted.
"Earth's Binding."
The cobblestones underfoot shattered with a violent crack, bursting upward like stony tendrils to ensnare Matthias's limbs in an unyielding grip. A stunned silence fell over the gathered crowd. Even Professor Weber wore a blank, bewildered look. He had cast the spell purely on instinct, before his conscious mind could stop him.
Yet the quiet did not last long. Even bound hand and foot, Matthias's foul mouth refused to shut up.
"What do you think you're doing?! Kwon Hee-jin was in on it too! Hold him accountable! Why are you taking it all out on me?!"
"Is shaving my head going to magically make you feel better?! Instead of doing this, shouldn't we be working together to find a solution—?!"
It was intolerable. Simply listening to another syllable was unbearable.
"Breath of Earth."
The earth fractured again. Several jagged stones erupted from the stone floor and slammed directly into Matthias's face—battering his nose, his eye sockets, and above all, that wretched mouth.
"Khurgh!"
Convulsing in pain, Matthias frantically rolled his eyes around to spot the culprit. The Cardinal, completely unfazed, continued his tonsure in earnest. His dexterity in stripping hair clean to the scalp with a single blade was nothing short of miraculous.
"How dare you bastards lay a hand on imperial royalty right here in the capital...! No, wait—"
"Breath of Earth."
"Oof!"
"Breath of Earth."
"W-Wait! I wash wron—"
Die.
"Gwaaagh!"
Gaining full momentum, Professor Weber drew his wand and unleashed spells with blazing rapid-chanting speed. With every volley, Matthias's face grew more and more mangled, pulverized into raw meat. Yet perhaps he had gotten carried away.
Crack!
A rock the size of a child's fist struck Matthias square in the forehead, and unable to withstand the trauma, his eyes rolled back as he slumped unconscious. The onlookers, who had been watching in breathless awe, suddenly froze. A creeping chill of dread whispered among them—no matter what he had done, murdering the Emperor's son might be crossing a line.
That concern, however, was extinguished almost instantly.
"Matthias, it seems the people are reluctant to see you go."
The Cardinal, pausing in his shaving, calmly channeled divine power to knit the shattered flesh back together. A Cardinal was indeed a Cardinal; Matthias sputtered back to consciousness in an instant. And after completing the healing, the holy man cast a discreet, approving nod straight toward Professor Weber.
Emboldened by that silent blessing, Professor Weber resumed firing his spells—though sadly, it could not last much longer. His mana pool was not bottomless.
So this... is my limit.
Completely drained of energy, Professor Weber sank to his knees. The sheer insanity of what he had just done only now began to register. The chilling realization that he might lose his professorship flashed across his mind.
Nearby, the tonsure was finally drawing to a close. Completely bald, Matthias wept pitifully, blubbering to himself, "It's over... I survived... I'm alive..."
Matthias's ordeal, however, was far from over.
The silent onlookers began stooping down, picking up the jagged pieces of rubble strewn across the plaza—the very stones Professor Weber had churned up with his earth magic. An elderly collateral royal who had bought ten coins right before the collapse and lost three and a half billion lira; an Imperial Guard regimental commander who had disappeared for days after leaving behind only a suicidal farewell letter to his family; the wife of the Minister of Justice, who had spent every waking hour terrified that her ruined husband would take his own life—as if bound by an unspoken pact, all reached down and gripped a stone.
"I-Isn't it over...?"
Having finished the tonsure, the Cardinal brushed the loose hair from Matthias's robes. Matthias looked up at him with pleading eyes.
"Fret not. It is all over, Matthias."
Of course, the only thing that was over was the haircut. The Cardinal stepped back smoothly.
The very next second, a torrential hail of stones rained down upon Matthias.
Thud! Crack! Thwack!
Some threw rotten tomatoes or stray construction bricks procured from who-knew-where, while others simply screamed feral profanities as they hurled whatever they could find. A passing commoner, gazing upon the scene in petrified shock, ran to the Imperial Guard to report that the nobility had collectively lost their minds—alas, the report was never filed.
The send-off ceremony continued for more than two hours after that.
Late that evening, a creaking luggage wagon steered by an old, haggard priest who had cast aside his cardinal robes rattled quietly out of the Imperial Capital. Loaded into the back was a bundle roughly wrapped in coarse cloth—a cargo that gave an occasional, feeble twitch.