Chapter 116
Chapter 116
Translation: godsn
"To think you'd be so two-faced. Disgusting. Absolutely vile."
No sooner had the Queen Dowager finished speaking than the people of Valdina stormed out in a flurry.
It was a clear declaration that there was no room left for negotiation.
Someone spat on the ground. Tch. The undisguised insult flushed Iason's face red.
This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Far from winning the favor of the Valdinans, he had only earned their resentment. This was the last thing he had wanted.
With Jared and even the diplomatic mission turning their backs on him, wasn't Valdina his only remaining hope?
"Brother Iason, return to Kazen as soon as possible. I pray there will be no further disgrace."
"Angelique, do you really think I don't know what you've done?"
Unable to hold back, Iason glared at her. The Fourth Imperial Princess scoffed.
"Did you think I wouldn't realize? That you deliberately tried to exploit my weakness?"
"......"
"Iason, just live as you always have. Don't chase foolish dreams. No—actually, even that will be difficult from now on. I have no intention of letting you rest easy in your delusions."
The venom in the Fourth Princess's voice was palpable, her triumph evident.
On another note, she thought Medeia had been absolutely right to use Iason as a scapegoat.
What could be more humiliating than being exposed for attempting to harm the princess of Valdina and subsequently being driven out? Thanks to this, even the disgrace of losing the duel over the relief supplies would be overshadowed.
The Fourth Princess shot a sidelong glance at Medeia.
Their eyes met briefly, but the Fourth Princess, as if her pride had been wounded, quickly turned her head away with a huff.
"Your Grace, we must ask you to prepare for departure."
The royal knights approached. They made no effort to conceal the aggressive, almost threatening aura around them.
"Let go. I'll walk out on my own."
Iason shook off their grip. His handsome face twisted into something ugly.
As the sun dipped low in the evening sky, the royal knights' horses came to a halt at the far edge of Valdina's royal castle.
"We will escort you no further. Then, Grand Duke Castulo. May we never meet again."
The greeting was polite, yet dripping with thinly veiled hostility—the bare minimum courtesy they could muster.
Clop. Clop. As if they couldn't bear to stay a moment longer, the knights spurred their horses away without so much as a backward glance. The sound of hooves against the ground carved deep wounds into Iason's pride.
His eyes burned red as he struggled to suppress his rising fury. The crimson hue of his irises, already intense, now brimmed with murderous rage, making him look utterly savage.
"Damn it—! Damn it all!"
Unable to contain his fury, he slammed his fists repeatedly against the carriage door.
This wasn't the first time he had suffered such humiliation.
When he had yielded the imperial throne to his uncle, when he had feigned ignorance to lower his uncle's guard—each time, Iason had bitten the inside of his cheek and endured the searing shame.
But he had never imagined he would be reduced to such misery even in this distant, insignificant kingdom of Valdina.
"Y-Your Grace, please, calm yourself!"
His skin split open against the iron door, but he couldn't stop.
"I can't leave like this."
He muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes bloodshot.
"I didn't come all this way just to return empty-handed."
Valdina was supposed to be his glorious beginning—not another mark in a string of repeated humiliations.
"Turn the carriage around. Send a message to Count Laju."
"Huh?"
The advisor startled at the unexpected command, then froze upon meeting Iason's savage gaze.
"You're saying we should go to Duke Claudio's estate?"
Count Laju had recently informed them—it seemed the ducal household was secretly preparing for a coup without the others' knowledge.
"I shall personally assist their rebellion."
If this foolish country dared repay his kindness with betrayal, then Iason too had no reason to hesitate.
Valdina.
At the summit of a gorge concealed by dense forests, several mounted men stood watching.
"That speck in the distance must be the Royal Castle of Valdina."
A middle-aged man on horseback muttered to himself.
With fiery red hair and brimming with ambition, this was Horols, leader of the Rebel Army.
"The castle rats will piss themselves when they see us coming."
He chuckled darkly.
"Indeed, Commander. Your words are always correct."
His subordinates chimed in with sycophantic agreement.
Still drunk on sweet fantasies, Horols gazed down at the plains below.
The swarming black dots covering the land were all rebel forces.
Though most were common folk armed with farming tools, each group contained a smattering of mercenaries who stirred and controlled them.
"More than enough troops to retake the castle and string up that leech of a Princess. That witch will learn firsthand how terrifying the people's wrath can be."
The commander declared triumphantly.
"Don't you agree, Theo?"
Horols turned to the brown-haired youth riding beside him.
With striking features, a near-saintly physique, and masculine lines that shone with rare handsomeness, the boy stood out.
"Theo?"
"......"
Only then did the youth stir.
"Too busy daydreaming to hear me call you?"
"Ah... yes. Those decadent fools will come scrambling out in panic."
Horols guffawed and clapped Theo on the shoulder.
"Already picturing our arrival at the castle? Well, you would—being castle-born yourself. Must feel strange."
"......"
"Your little sister will be so proud seeing her big brother become the hero who saves the people from misery. Hahaha!"
Horols swelled with satisfaction at his own discovery.
This boy had been the most cost-effective acquisition in their grand operation funded by the Regent's gold.
He'd simply picked up a dying wretch from the streets.
With a retired soldier for a father, Theo burned with extraordinary hatred toward the royal family. A few sweet words about toppling the corrupt monarchy and saving the people, and he'd joined without hesitation.
Filled with revolutionary fervor, he worked himself to the bone without demanding a single coin.
Horols' inner circle were actually expensive, high-grade mercenaries.
Unlike those constantly demanding payment, Theo moved like a wind-up doll—just scratch where itched and he'd keep going alone.
"We camp here tonight. Thinking about that place going up in flames tomorrow, the liquor should go down extra smooth!"
Horols' boisterous laughter echoed across the darkening sky.
Dusk thickened over the gorge's flatlands.
Theo lit a candle inside his solitary tent.
Everyone else was thoroughly drunk, the commander loudly decrying royal corruption by the bonfire with his flushed-faced soldiers.
Amidst the boisterous clamor, Theo managed to slip alone into the commander's tent.
"First they threaten my family, and now they try to deceive me...?"
His teeth ground at the cunning schemes of the Valdina royal family.
"You're being fooled. Wipe your eyes and look closely. Otherwise, before you can blink, I'll slice your nose clean off."
Not long ago, a freckled youth wearing a straw hat had sought him out.
With gleaming, sharp eyes, the youth flicked Theo's nose before departing.
When Theo snapped out of his daze, an unfamiliar box lay in his hand.
Inside were a token he'd shared with his sister and a lock of hair.
'Saya... To think my little sister truly became that witch's handmaiden.'
At first, Theo refused to believe it. So he discreetly investigated through his contacts within the Royal Castle.
"They say the Princess recently took in a girl from the slums as her handmaid. Her name's Saya—she's become quite famous for winning the Queen Dowager's favor."
'I should've taken Saya with me when I left.'
But regret now was meaningless.
Theo crumpled the letter in his grasp.
A missive—no, a threat—delivered to him by the freckled assassin sent by Valdina's Princess.
The Princess already knew everything: his identity as a rebel leader, that Saya was his only remaining family.
Sending that lock of hair was a threat—proof she held Saya's life in her hands.
...You've been deceived, Theo. The ideals and justice you believed in never existed.
The Princess claimed their commander took orders from the Regent, that this rebellion was merely a grand scheme to destabilize the nation for their own gain.
"Impossible."
The words seeped through Theo's clenched teeth.
"Theo, let's join hands and change this rotten world! Let's make the poor stand tall, live well enough to never bow before the wealthy!"
That rough yet pure passion had drawn him here—yet behind the scenes, they were receiving aid from the Regent?
"The Princess is trying to divide us. Using Saya as leverage to separate me from the commander."
Theo knew his own influence well.
Truthfully, the commander could only grow their forces this large because of his efforts.
Most rebels were ordinary folk who'd been wielding farming tools. They'd joined, steadfastly believing Theo's words, persuaded by his vision.
He'd patiently taught them skills learned from his retired soldier father, nurturing their abilities.
That they'd captured several castles with minimal losses was entirely Theo's achievement.
"Damn it all..."
He muttered.
There was no other reason for coming here. Only to confirm the truth and throw it in that vile Princess's face.
A faint rustling sound echoed quietly through the tent.
"...None of this exists. The Princess fabricated it all to divide us..."
Then he froze.
Theo slowly raised his hand. A small parchment stamped with Duke Claudio's seal.
When confronting the rebels at the city walls, I'll send the Princess outside. Wait to abduct her, then display her to the people within the castle. Declare you'll execute the witch who abandoned her nation.
Along with the Regent's orders—a chest filled to the brim with gold ingots.
Thud. Theo collapsed to his knees.