Curtain Fall, Backstage Parting (1)
Afternoon ten o'clock. A bit early to call it late night.
"Everyone's here."
Father had gathered us in the study. Mother. Noir. Letar. Ruby. Head Butler Malcolm. Knight Mente. Knight Robert. Knight Carlos. Naria, Astasia, Viscount Hex Romana. And me.
"From this moment, no word spoken in this room shall leak outside. In the name of Crimson Gibraltar."
Thud.
Father slammed the sheathed sword onto the floor, setting the tone. It wasn't just for weight—he was genuinely releasing mana to pressure everyone else.
"I ask the questions, and only those I permit may speak. The rest of you, listen in silence."
No one could respond. The situation was that grave, that serious—a true state of wartime.
"Grey Gibraltar."
"Yes, Margrave."
"Report the situation."
"Yes."
All eyes turned to me. Some filled with worry, others with confusion, fixed on me as I faced the wall.
"To cut to the conclusion: the enemy tried to assassinate Naria Geo Nostrum, the princess we were protecting in our territory."
Those in the know gasped at the revelation, while the unaware gaped in shock toward Naria.
"The method was mind control via vampire. Baron Arshen Gillarus was normal until yesterday, but reports say he locked himself in his room from dawn today and hasn't come out. He even skipped the breakfast he ordered."
"Grey."
"Yes, Margrave."
"The vampire part came out of nowhere. Do you have any basis for that assumption?"
"I do, but..."
I glanced slightly at Astasia, and she nodded back.
"As you all know, vampires are demons dwelling in the northern polluted black territories of the canyon—commonly called the pollution zone."
"We don't need that explanation—"
"Knight Carlos."
Father shot a look at Knight Carlos.
"I did not permit you to speak."
"...My apologies, my lord. And to you as well, young master."
Carlos bowed ninety degrees—toward me.
"It's fine. It's not something that needs a long explanation anyway, so I'll get to the point. This is just speculation."
I took a deep breath, then pointed to the pollution zone and adjacent lands on the map hanging on the wall.
"The demon known as the vampire is likely deeply connected to the Empire."
"......!"
"This is pure conspiracy theory at best, but would you like to hear it?"
Father nodded. Once he decided to listen, no one else had a choice but to stay silent.
"After Naria Geo Nostrum narrowly escaped murder at the hands of Saint Geo Nostrum, Gibraltar decided to protect her under Morgania's guidance. Time passed, and the Empire figured out where the missing princess had hidden."
I pointed to the clock.
"Conveniently, today was the princess's birthday. No matter how quietly she's been hiding, they couldn't just let it pass without some small celebration. The Empire was probably watching every Morgania-related spot closely. They'd monitor cake orders from bakeries. Or purchases of gifts a thirteen-year-old princess might like."
Thoroughly, ruthlessly.
"Then Gibraltar held a festival, and right on cue, there was a blonde, green-eyed maid among them. Someone pretending to be mute under the alias 'Jabes'—could she really be the princess? They couldn't be sure."
"But they sent a vampire."
"That's what gave them certainty. This man."
I held up someone's portrait.
"Arshen Gillarus. The mage Morgania personally dispatched to Gibraltar."
"Hmm..."
"Who requested a mage? I did. That's on me, so I'll take the blame gladly."
"That's—!"
Astasia cried out involuntarily, but Father shook his head firmly.
"It doesn't matter who suggested it or carried it out to fulfill the request. I approved it in the end."
"Margrave."
"And if we're assigning blame, it's my negligence for failing to secure a mage capable of proper fireworks at a festival in a margraviate."
"...Ha."
By defending me like this, even Head Butler Malcolm could shrug it off—but
"Huh..."
Knight Carlos kept alternating glances between Noir and me, mouth agape, standing frozen like he was entranced.
"That's enough on the situation report. Now, for future measures."
"What should we do?"
"I'd prefer to discuss that privately with you, Father."
"...No threats outside, and none inside this room?"
"No. None."
Not prejudice, but there was no scent of Silver Dust in this room.
"Very well. Mente. Carlos. Robert. You three knights, guard this room until I return."
"Yes, my lord."
"Viscount Hex, protect Princess Naria as well."
"But—"
"Grey doesn't suspect Morgania, and neither do I. I don't believe they're behind the assassination."
Father's voice carried unwavering conviction.
"Saint Geo, maybe. But Carmen sending someone to kill her daughter? Unthinkable. More likely, Saint Geo schemed behind her back."
No matter how often royals killed their own kin, Carmen wouldn't.
"Even if the bitten one was prepared by Morgania, it wasn't their doing."
I agreed.
"So rest easy and wait a moment."
I wasn't sure if he'd thought that far, but this had already cracked the bond between Gibraltar and Morgania.
"Grey. Follow me."
"Yes, Father."
Father opened the study door and stepped out; I followed right behind. Countless questioning stares pierced my back, and the servants and knights in the hallway eyed me with bewilderment as we emerged.
Thud, thud.
But Father kept walking.
Underground beneath the castle. Not the ossuary holding previous margraves' remains, but another place.
"First time here?"
"Yes."
First time this life; familiar from before regression.
"This is the interrogation room. The underground prison."
Where Letar had practically lived, and I'd frequented often.
"It's here."
Father pointed to a torch-lit cell.
"Ah, my lord!"
The soldier guarding the sealed iron door saluted Father, and as the door opened, those inside snapped to salute as well.
"You've arrived."
A blonde man in unfamiliar attire—unlike Gibraltar knights—clasped his hands in greeting.
"Thanks for rushing all this way. Priest Klein."
"No trouble at all."
A young man in brown clerical robes.
"How could I stand idle when the devil's kin, rejectors of the golden grace, appear?"
A rare priest from the Church in mana-weak Gibraltar.
"The seal?"
"Thoroughly complete."
Inside the cell. In a spacious coffin lay something humanoid.
"Arshen Gillarus, thrall of the vampire. The seal is finished."
A wooden stake pierced his chest, and the mangled stumps of his severed limbs were plastered with Nostrum gold coins. Golden flowers piled thick between them. His face was split in half, but a gold cloth draped over hid the horror.
"Good. Step out for a moment?"
"My lord?"
"I need to speak privately with Grey, who's faced the vampire."
"But..."
"I know your concerns, priest, but this concerns Gibraltar."
With Father taking a high-handed stance, I shouldn't push it—trouble later.
"Thanks to the Golden Dawn and the blessing of pure gold, we controlled the vampire."
"...The golden blessing."
The priest prayed toward us both and withdrew.
Creeeak.
The iron door shut, leaving just Father, me, and the fully slain Baron Arshen in the grim cell.
"I."
Father released mana as he spoke quietly.
"Thought it was Saint Geo."
"The incompetent king enthralled by a vampire, trying to kill his daughter?"
"Yes. More convincing, no? Suddenly bringing up the Empire lacks evidence."
"No evidence for others, but I have it."
"...That's exactly why people find you strange."
Father picked up Arshen's severed right hand.
"You didn't predict the vampire. If you had, you'd have prepared a silver dagger."
"You know me too well."
"That's why I'm certain again. You don't read the future."
Father sighed in lament.
"But you're no genius either."
"That's a bit hurtful. Do I look like some genius wannabe?"
"A genius at acting like one."
"Hmm..."
"Geniuses are usually brilliant across fields, but I don't see you as that type, like Carmen."
Father tapped his temple.
"Carmen wrote: smart, but sorely lacking experience. After your Seirene trip."
"Why?"
"You spouted utterly absurd delusions, as if certain they'd come true."
"Ah. The dragon stable gamble talk."
"Carmen said."
Father grimaced, as if recalling something distasteful.
"No matter your gambling genius, the talers from a casino wouldn't match an entire imperial bank, let alone the Empire."
"Hoo."
"Impressed?"
"Of course. Exactly the reaction you predicted, Father."
Once, when I'd pitched all sorts of plans to him.
"People will see a thirteen-year-old bragging genius ideas from his narrow view."
"......."
"You'll mistake others never having those thoughts, when they're already thinking similarly—or beyond. Or—"
"Like Knight Cardian Gibraltar, a future-seeing hero."
"......."
Personally, less precognition, more 'like me'—but no records.
"Grey Gibraltar."
Which makes me more certain.
"You—"
"Do you think I'm a frog in a well too, Father?"
"...No. I know your true nature. Even how others see you is part of your scheme."
"......."
"Not that. This."
Father tapped the stake with Arshen's severed hand.
"I won't pry your sources. You'd say imperial papers, rumors, inferences."
"Rumors, yes."
"Anyway, you know."
By leaving less info, cases like mine gain stronger weapons later.
"Even I, the margrave, don't know. Explain it so I understand."
"If Nostrum is the land of the sun—"
"Conclusion first."
"......My apologies."
I take after Father, but habits slip in.
'Useless crown prince habits.'
Cut to the chase like Father, or ramble with metaphors like the Emperor?
'Mix both.'
Pick the best.
"Historically, the Empire has close ties with vampires, using them secretly as spies. That's how they've dominated kingdoms for five hundred years."
"Colluding with demons—why undetected till now?"
"Demons, but vampires blend into human society, looking near-human."
I reached toward Arshen Gillarus's head.
"Blackened eyes, lost reason, blood-mad beasts—that's lowborn. Purebloods or high-rank show noble poise."
I pulled back the gold cloth, pointing to the split head's side.
"But all vampires share one trait."
"...Ears."
"Yes. Pointed like elves. Their symbol."
"So the one who controlled—or turned—this man is an imperial noble?"
"That's deep conspiracy territory."
"...I see. Now the real point."
Father, as expected.
"Go ahead. I'm listening."
"We interrogated the Whites endlessly but couldn't identify the Silver Dust source."
"......No way."
"But our research revealed one thing."
No report to scatter dramatically, so I lifted a golden flower from the coffin instead.
"Half of Silver Dust is Somnus powder. The other half eluded us."
I took the wall torch and dropped wax below.
"I think we've found it."
"......."
"Very faint, but the scent matches."
Whoosh.
"This substance, Silver Dust."
Third year post-regression.
"Is made from Somnus petals and vampire ashes."
For the first time, I revealed future knowledge with plausible evidence and contrived logic.
"If Silver Dust comes from the Empire, and one ingredient is vampires."
"The Empire recycles even soldier corpses—ruthless."
"Grind dead vampire bodies to powder, boost living troops. The Empire could do it."
"...Yes. They're capable."
Astasia or Chairwoman Erwin were outliers; the Empire was always like that.
"Well."
With magical words.
"If not, oh well."
Most crucial for me. Acquire Silver Dust.
Achieved.
"Father. Another issue."
"What?"
"This might be the biggest..."
Should I say it?
"This is pure conspiracy from imperial papers, intel on the Empire, and White reports."
Already risked spilling baseless Silver Dust info; this might push it.
"No teasing. Speak."
"Princess Naria is no longer the target."
"Then?"
But.
Even if my 'regression' weapon is exposed.
"...Grand Princess Astasia is."
This, I must say.
"To the Emperor, she's a rival to kill. To the Crown Prince, a daughter to protect—and a political pawn."
"...Complicated family there. Political pawn how?"
"Astasia von Tersian. To the next emperor, Hapsburg von Tersian."
Since Astasia came to Gibraltar, the sharpest dagger I'd honed over three years.
"She's the key to breaching the Grey Gibraltar gate."
To make the Crown Prince think the honey trap succeeded.
A trap more meticulously designed than any other.
"No matter what, we must protect Grand Princess Astasia. From the current Emperor who commands vampires as minions."