Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: Meeting with the Emperor
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Raunel felt like he was sinking into a deep swamp.
Pitch-black darkness where nothing was visible.
It was as if he heard someone's voice in the sticky mire.
"Come home."
"It's all over now, so let's rest at home."
Raunel looked at the face of the one leading him.
'Reinhardt?'
Impossible.
Only then did Raunel realize this was a dream.
Reinhardt, who always had a furrowed brow, would never wear an expression like he was worried about someone.
He'd never seen such a face on him before.
It didn't suit the demon who issued commands, strutted about, and looked down on everyone else.
So this must be a dream.
"Lord Raunel. Have you awakened?"
Hearing the familiar voice, Raunel regained his senses.
Opening his eyes, he saw a soft bed.
The palace.
His own room, no less.
"It'seems I'm still dreaming."
"No, sir. It's been twenty-five days since you opened your eyes."
He looked at the head butler standing nearby.
His advanced age lent his calm response a complete lack of tension.
One would expect a commotion after waking from twenty-five days.
"Really? I've been out for twenty-five days?"
"Yes. We thought you'd never wake up. The Empress will be overjoyed to hear this."
He wouldn't lie.
Raunel tried to calm himself as much as possible and asked.
"......Why am I in the palace?"
What he was most curious about was why he was here.
Clearly, Raunel had been in the North.
He had been captured by Carlos Grand Duke's forces while conducting reconnaissance battles with the Phoenix Knight Order.
He remembered being thrown into an underground prison and barely escaping afterward.
'What happened after that?'
He clutched his forehead.
His head throbbed.
"Do you not remember?"
"I feel like I fought someone. Was it a lich, or someone else......"
Ah.
Fuzzy memories returned.
"Right. Reinhardt. Where is Reinhardt?"
"He's in the Imperial Dragon Palace, of course."
"That can't be. He was in the North. I clearly saw him wielding Caliburn."
The butler's expression darkened slightly.
"Are you referring to the spirit sword? Spirit Caliburn is still embedded in the rock."
"What......?"
Wait. What the hell is going on?
Reinhardt was in the Crown Prince's palace, and Spirit Caliburn was still stuck in the rock?
Then what did I see?
It wasn't a clear memory, but the afterimages of exchanging blows with Reinhardt and his sword were definitely seared into his mind.
"I heard Reinhardt is the Holy King. The lich that possessed my body said so."
"Holy King? Ah, you mean the one who came riding the bone dragon?"
"Yes!"
"It was quite the spectacle. He was the one who saved you, after all. But you're saying that man was Crown Prince Reinhardt?"
Something was off.
Where the hell did a bone dragon even come from?
The butler looked genuinely clueless.
"You would've recognized him if you saw his face."
"He was wearing a dragon helmet. We couldn't make out his face. Instead, he issued something like a declaration of war before leaving."
"Declaration of war?"
"He demanded immediate withdrawal from the North. Otherwise, he'd expose our ties to the Demon Cult across the entire continent. It was chilling."
The butler recalled the scene.
Twenty-five days ago, a man who rode a bone dragon through the palace barriers and arrived.
He called himself the Holy King, proclaiming himself the god of the North.
In the Empire's imperial palace, no less.
He deserved to be beaten to death on the spot, but he held Raunel hostage.
Even as thousands of soldiers and knights surrounded him, poised to attack, he didn't waver an inch.
"His voice wasn't Crown Prince Reinhardt's. But when he released you, he said something like, 'Raunel can pull it off.'"
"......Me? Pull off what?"
"Putting Carlos Grand Duke on trial, it seemed."
Dizziness washed over him.
Carlos Grand Duke.
Put him on trial?
For violating the Empire's sacred laws, for handling the devil's death penalty—demand execution?
He had tried to parse right from wrong, but dragging him to trial was on a whole different scale.
It could even ignite a civil war.
"Did you find nothing in the North?"
"No......"
He had found something.
But no direct links.
At best, connections to a handful of lesser nobles.
Raunel turned his head and said.
"What about the northern expedition?"
"We've withdrawn, but it's a temporary truce state. Once the delegation arrives, a formal agreement."
"I need to see Reinhardt."
"You need rest. You're not recovered yet...!"
Before the butler could finish, Raunel rose from his seat and moved.
He didn't get it.
One thing was clear: meet Reinhardt first.
*
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Raunel's footsteps were heavy.
"Prince Raunel, coming without prior notice...!"
"You can't just barge in!"
"Out of my way!"
But they could only stamp their feet—no one dared stand in Raunel's path.
Seeing his face and white mourning garb, they could only guess that something major had happened.
'He must be desperate not to even change first.'
'Is a blade fight about to break out?'
Raunel, asleep for so long, seeking Reinhardt without so much as changing clothes.
Considerable fallout expected. If something blew up, they'd face reprimands for failing to stop him.
Normally, he'd consider their positions.
But after passing several palaces, Raunel's face was set in stone.
'Caliburn really is stuck in the rock. Damn it.'
Because he had confirmed the sword—Spirit Caliburn—embedded there.
Now it truly felt like a dream.
Yet his memories couldn't all be fabrications.
'Reinhardt was definitely in the North. No way he's back already.'
He already knew Reinhardt wasn't in the Crown Prince's palace.
So confirming with his own eyes whether Reinhardt was here or not would settle it.
If absent, the North. If present...
Bang!
Flinging open the closed door, Raunel bellowed.
"Reinhardt!"
"Shut up."
...He was there.
But it defied all reason.
The North lay beyond the rugged Rocari Mountains—even rushing, it took a full month one way. Round trip: three months.
Back in under twenty-five days?
Absurd.
Utterly at ease, Reinhardt lounged in a spacious chair, reading a book.
'Yunjakbeop'? Crop rotation techniques? Farming methods, of all things?
"What do you want? Thunder god crashing in at dawn."
"You really asking 'cause you don't know?"
"Am I not asking precisely because I don't? We're hardly mind readers."
True enough.
His head spun harder.
"When did you get back?"
"Talking nonsense. I've been here all along."
"Don't lie. I know you were in the North—His Imperial Majesty does too."
"Really? I don't, so go ask His Majesty."
"I'm dead serious."
Reinhardt set the book aside, shrugged, and rose.
"Got back a few days ago."
"A few days?"
Raunel cocked his head.
Waking after twenty-five days, he'd assumed Reinhardt arrived around then.
Reinhardt reacted like it was the dumbest question.
"What would lying gain me? Everyone here knows."
A lie that'd unravel instantly. Thus, truth.
Still, Raunel couldn't wrap his head around it.
"You're the Holy King..."
"Me? Haha!"
He laughed for real.
Raunel was at a loss.
"Bedridden too long—can't tell dream from reality anymore."
Was that it?
Everything he'd seen, a dream?
'Well......'
Calm finally settled in.
Reinhardt as Holy King? Overpowering a lich? Laughable on its face.
Become the North's god in mere dozens of days? Nonsense.
Far more sensible: rescued by the Holy King purging lich and undead.
But why mistake him for Reinhardt?
Why the worried look from the Holy King?
"......Sorry for the morning ruckus."
Biting his lip, bowing once, Raunel withdrew.
Even so, his gaze lingered on the book.
Reinhardt. Reading. Farming.
Didn't fit.
Besides, this fell squarely in normal conversation territory.
'His mania eased up?'
The vibe had shifted, undeniably.
He itched to grill him on the North trip and events there, but held back for now.
Plenty left to verify.
*
He rose and headed to the window.
Expected more clinging, but it wrapped quicker than thought.
'Swallowed it nicely.'
Couldn't reveal Holy King status yet.
Empire and North were still at war. Carlos Grand Duke and his nobles learning the Crown Prince led it? No sitting idle.
After twenty-odd days of clashes, killing and dying—that revelation?
They'd rally retreated troops, seize the capital, string him up. Fair play.
'Even Carlos would've wanted to dodge Demon Cult links.'
The Demon Cult: the Empire's—and continent's—prime evil to eradicate.
Direct ties exposed? Even Carlos wouldn't escape unscathed.
Killing the daemon sealed it.
Hearing Raunel lived in the palace, forced a passive stance.
No conquest in sight, they retreated for temporary truce.
North's harsh clime wrecked Empire troops long-term.
Wise move.
Dragging it out meant mutual annihilation.
'Truce talks and POW swaps pending. Who spearheads 'em is the crux.'
Carlos would push for control, but whether he succeeds...
North's delegation coming—likely a lord among 'em.
Negotiate with me? Or Carlos? Whatever.
Anyway.
"His Majesty summons you, Your Highness."
Germin spoke from outside.
I stretched languidly.
Faster than expected. Figured a few more days.
First direct audience since returning.
Nay, first proper one ever.
No clue what'd transpire, but surely about Northern events.
He'd never summoned before—now directly calling? Pressing matter.
"Tell him I'll take my time. Haven't bathed yet."
Couldn't thunder in like Raunel.
Full prep, pristine, then depart.
He's the one in a rush.
End of Meeting with the Emperor