Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: World of Ashes
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That world was burning women alive. Black figures covered in ash piled up firewood and tossed torches, setting the women ablaze. Still not satisfied, they endlessly hurled curses. As Lena, who had just opened her eyes, gazed upon the scene, the ash-covered figures turned their heads toward her in unison, as if by prior agreement. Dozens of eyes fixed on her at once, and a thunderous voice echoed.
“The trial begins.”
“The trial begins.”
“The trial begins.”
The cascading voices shook the earth.
“Confess your sins.”
“Confess your sins.”
“Confess your sins.”
The shadows pressed in on Lena, berating her. But Lena didn’t budge. Instead, she glared at the shadows and issued a low command.
“Move.”
At the king’s order, the wraiths melted away powerlessly. The shadows vanished, but the women in the flames remained. As Lena approached them, the roaring fire dwindled smaller and smaller. The thick ropes binding them snapped one by one. Lena gazed at the women charred black and whispered.
“I’ll definitely find them. Your names.”
As if they understood her words, the women collapsed into heaps of ash.
“What are you going to do by finding those pathetic names?”
At that moment, a soft voice came from behind her.
“Names so trivial like grains of sand, not even worth remembering.”
He spoke sharply with a gentle smile on his face. He was Hiems Grasha, the King of Burning and Scorching. He had appeared right behind Lena’s back, and the moment she realized it, she swung her fist with all her might at his face. At Lena’s punch, Hiems turned to ash and scattered, only to reappear on the opposite side of her shoulder.
“You know it’s useless.”
“You really went all out on this setup.”
As Lena glared and spoke, Hiems smiled affectionately. Then he snapped his fingers, transforming the space. In the execution ground thick with the stench of burning flesh, a carpet unfurled and a plush sofa appeared.
“We don’t have much time, but shall we sit and talk for a bit?”
Lena carefully surveyed Hiems and his surroundings before taking a seat. She then checked her own condition. Lena was dressed in a neat lady’s gown. Her hands were clean, without a single scratch. It was utterly different from the state she’d been in just before losing consciousness.
‘This isn’t reality.’
Lena was certain from the sense of wrongness she felt throughout her body. This was a dream. A dream hijacked by an intruder, one she couldn’t escape.
“I never imagined it. To trap me, you even staked your heart. What do you gain from this?”
Having roughly grasped the situation, Lena spoke while glancing at Hiems’s fingertips. He, who had said they had little time, was crumbling slowly from the tips of his fingers. The king, deprived of his heart, had already lost his power and was collapsing. What stood before Lena now was merely a tiny fragment he had left behind—the last remnant of Hiems Grasha’s will contained in the ash she had swallowed. Lena glared at Hiems, annoyed that he had not only trapped her in this dream but also prepared such entertainment. But Hiems Grasha, true to his bloodline as Clavis’s ancestor, smiled calmly even under her sharp gaze.
“I entrusted the aftermath to the Lion King.”
“……Since when have you two been so chummy?”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Better the lesser evil than the worst, and the Lion King over the Beheaded Woman gives at least a chance at resurrection.”
Lion King, resurrection. From those two words, Lena could surmise the situation inside and out. It seemed the kings of the wraiths had learned she had sided with the empire and taken countermeasures. If the King of Burning and Scorching trapped Lena at the bottom of her consciousness, the King Who Caged the Lion would emerge on the surface to strike the empire. Through this pincer attack, if the Lion King reclaimed his heart from Nihil, Hiems could resurrect. A dead being couldn’t die again, so as long as the source of his power existed, he was immortal. That was why Hiems had struck some deal with the Lion King. To retaliate against the arrogant emperor and Lena, who dared to covet their hearts. Worried about the state of the imperial palace, Lena hurriedly assessed the situation again.
‘I need to get back fast.’
“You can’t leave.”
As if reading Lena’s thoughts, Hiems said.
“You can’t wake up alone. No matter what you try. And while you sleep, the surface world will perish—all because of you.”
Hiems rebuked Lena, who had arbitrarily exposed the tomb’s secrets and invaded. In response, Lena narrowed her eyes and smiled.
“You think you can pull that off? You’ve already been crushed by the emperor long ago.”
At Lena’s mockery, Hiems’s smiling face twitched. As she said, the kings of the wraiths had been defeated by the emperor a century ago. And that defeat continued to this day.
“You’re right. But that was already a century ago. And a hundred years on the surface isn’t the same as a hundred years underground.”
Though stung, Hiems hid his displeasure and nodded. Then, feigning composure, he added in a more insinuating tone.
“In that time, his power must have waned. That’s why he’s trying to take our hearts as well.”
“Who knows? I wouldn’t know about those inner workings.”
“Liar.”
“Liar?”
“Unlike us, you’re still alive, bound by time. You must know everything and have chosen that side.”
At Lena’s feigned ignorance, Hiems murmured lowly and asked.
“Why are you there, O King Deprived of Blessing?”
Lena Rubel. The most alien and impure being since human history began and kings arose in the tomb. The false king who became ruler of the living dead while still alive. The heretic who became king without being a conqueror or ruler in life.
—Newly born king! I curse you!
—Insolent! Impudent! Arrogant! I curse you, who drag rotten logs to play at being king!
Even the curses he had hurled before losing his heart stemmed from contempt for such a Lena Rubel. Knowing how Hiems viewed her, Lena merely smiled without responding. Seeing his time was short, Hiems asked again.
“Why are you on the side of the Beheaded Woman? Do you think her rule is just?”
“Just?”
The sudden talk of right and wrong left Lena’s face blank. As if she’d heard something utterly bizarre, she furrowed her brow before giving an ambiguous smile.
“It’s not worth answering, but I’ll say one thing.”
With that preface, Lena looked at Hiems Grasha’s refined face. Even now, they resembled each other. Of course they did—they shared blood. But did their temperaments have to match so closely too? Gazing at the corpse that reminded her of Clavis, Lena whispered in a sigh-tinged voice.
“To me, you’re all the same scum.”
***
She was barefoot. The one stepping on the Southern Duke’s head, bowed to the floor, was Emperor Nihil’s bare foot.
“You offered it up to be crushed?”
Nihil muttered as he pressed down on the old man’s head with his foot, clad only in a short corset as he sometimes was. The Southern Duke, trampled so miserably, thought it would be better to be hacked to pieces by a sword. He felt the acrid taste of blood from grinding his molars, but he endured. Endured and endured again. All he could do now was hold his breath and bear the humiliation, so he endured like he was writhing.
...
Early that morning, Clavis had summoned the dukes in the emperor’s name. Thus, the three dukes and Prince Rubid, who had gone to the tomb the day before, gathered in the audience chamber. Their appearances were a sight to behold. The Eastern Duke with a splint on his arm, the Northern Duke with half his head and face wrapped in bandages. The Southern Duke looked intact at least, but his proxy lay bedridden, so all East, South, and North were in poor shape. The three dukes stood facing the empty throne. In that brief moment waiting for the emperor, the Southern Duke growled lowly.
“Iura Plenus, don’t you have anything to say to me?”
“If you have business, speak directly. Don’t beat around the bush.”
At the Southern Duke’s interrogation, Iura replied coldly. The Southern Duke’s face twisted even more viciously.
“Was it your doing?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Bribing my knights and luring out the wraiths—that scheme of yours!”
The Southern Duke gnashed his teeth and barked. But Iura ignored it and stayed silent, and the furious Southern Duke warned sharply.
“Don’t think this will just blow over. I’ll dig to the bottom and hold you accountable.”
It was then, as the Northern Duke hardened his face to retort, that the throne’s curtain parted and Clavis appeared.
“You’re all here.”
Clavis smiled and greeted them familiarly before politely stepping aside. Behind him emerged the emperor, expressionless as ever. The dukes and prince lowered their bodies in respect, but Nihil sank into his seat as if uninterested. Then he asked, mumbling.
“Whose fault is it?”
At the out-of-nowhere questioning, the dukes raised their hardened faces. Whose fault? If they had to assign blame, the one most at fault here was the emperor. He was the one who had opened that dangerous rift right in the heart of the palace and ordered the dukes to conquer the tomb. But the emperor himself asked as if he were the most innocent person in the world. As if calmly asking whom to punish now, and to the very ones who should be punished.
“Where is Lena Rubel?”
As the dukes fell silent, Nihil tilted his head and looked for Lena. He seemed to have decided whom to reprimand. Once the emperor decided, it was irreversible. Knowing this, the Southern Duke had no choice but to step forward.
“The proxy of the South has not yet awakened and remains bedridden.”
“Why?”
At the Southern Duke’s report, Nihil spoke as if genuinely curious.
“She failed to protect the palace, so why is she lying down?”
The Southern Duke’s face darkened further at Nihil’s question. He wanted to claim it was all the North’s fault. But the Southern Duke knew better than anyone that excuses wouldn’t work. Nihil had no interest in circumstances or stories. He wanted only cleanly severed cause and effect. Success, failure, misfortune, even falling into traps—all were each person’s responsibility. Knowing he couldn’t dodge blame, and to keep the sparks from flying to Lena, who was still lying down, the Southern Duke lowered his own body.
“It’s my responsibility. I elevated an incompetent as proxy and caused Your Majesty worry.”
“And?”
But Nihil had no interest in such forthright words. After agonizing, the Southern Duke cast aside his pride and knelt before the emperor in front of the Eastern and Northern Dukes.
“I beg your forgiveness. It’s all my fault, so please punish me and sate your anger.”
“Are you giving me orders?”
Nihil whispered as he rose.
“Whether I end it with you or exterminate your entire line—that’s up to me.”
The Southern Duke had finally succeeded in piquing the emperor’s interest. But it was far from a good direction. Nihil rose from the throne at the Southern Duke’s overstepping plea and descended the steps one by one. Then he placed his foot on the prostrated Southern Duke’s head and whispered.
“Is this offered up to be crushed?”
“……Have mercy.”
“No.”
Nihil pressed down on the Southern Duke’s head. Slowly, but firmly. The old man’s forehead met the floor, but Nihil’s foot didn’t stop, continuing downward. As the forehead compressed against the hard marble, a crunching sound came. Under the pressure as if his skull would burst, the Southern Duke clenched his teeth. He thought he might die here.
“Urk……!”
A groan finally escaped the steadfast old man. At the sound, Lin clenched his teeth in conflict. Should he just watch the old man be trampled to death, or save him? If he saved him, what method should he use? As Lin stood with his fist tightly clenched, Nihil looked down at the Southern Duke’s head and said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll pass your Authority on to a more useful child.”
It was a death sentence. Lin finally made up his mind and opened his mouth. But he was one step too late.
“Your Majesty.”
Before Lin could speak, an unexpected voice rang out. It was Rubid’s voice.