Fighting Fire with Fabrication
Consort Cleo looked desperate to rush to Prince Brian's side, but she was barely held back by the maid frantically restraining her elbow.
Watching me—and watching the Emperor, whose gaze was now fixed entirely on me—she ground her teeth with venomous rage.
Oho, looks like she realized how the whole scheme played out. I had to fight with every fiber of my being to stifle a smirk.
"It... it called to you?" the Emperor stammered in utter bewilderment. "That sword is..."
"Yes. Right here in this Underground Maze, I suffered a fatal blow while battling a demonic beast and fell into a coma."
Even calling it a "battle" was an absurd exaggeration, but the Emperor ate up heroic melodrama like candy, so I decided to feed him a show. I slicked my lips with theatrical urgency.
"Did Your Imperial Majesty never find it strange? No matter how many ominous rumors circulated about the Maze Garden, almost no one has ever fallen into the Underground Maze beneath it. Yet both I and the adopted daughter of the Castrein Duchy just happened to plummet into its depths!"
"O-Oh... yes, that's true."
Though still dazed, the Emperor nodded along. Without missing a beat, I poured my entire soul into the performance.
"Vicious conspirators seeking to overthrow the Imperial Palace set wicked traps in this Underground Maze to gather demonic beasts!"
"W-What?!"
"This sacred sword reacts whenever something sinister draws near! Thus, it is only natural that those who previously held the blade felt an eerie, foreboding sensation—for foul things threatening our imperial home have been festering all around us! But Father, while my physical body lay unable to awaken, the sword spoke directly to my spirit."
Who in their right mind would believe a sword can talk?
That was precisely why I decided to fight fair and square—with pure, unabashed agitation and shameless fabrication!
If any of you think I'm spouting nonsense, go ahead and pick up the sword, fall into a coma yourself, and prove me wrong!
"Because its holy power was severely depleted, the blade could not clearly communicate with anyone who was awake and hale. It could convey its will only to me, suspended in deep slumber! It pleaded with me to wake, to rise and thwart the dark conspiracy targeting the imperial court! I opened my eyes only at dawn today—ah, never dreaming matters had already spiraled to such a horrifying state!"
Dabbing at an imaginary tear, I gripped the hilt tighter and commanded inside my mind:
Shine!
Flash!
Once more, an overwhelming wave of sacred radiance swept through the narrow corridors of the subterranean maze. Confronted with such dazzling, undeniable proof, the Emperor could hardly stand there and ask, "Isn't that a cursed sword?" Instead, he hastily shifted his focus.
"B-But why on earth is Brian here... looking like this?!"
"Brother Brian, regrettably..."
I tilted my head and offered a subtle, practiced glance over my shoulder. Right on cue, High Priest Ilian stepped forward with a grave, pious expression, presenting an ornate wooden box.
"Honored Imperial Majesty, upon examining Prince Brian's hunting equipment, we discovered that his bait was heavily coated with substances crafted specifically to lure demonic beasts. Furthermore, just this morning, identical illicit items were discovered concealed within His Highness's personal quarters."
"W-What is the meaning of this, High Priest Ilian?!"
"It is a lie, Your Majesty! Why would Brian ever do such a thing?!"
Sensing the noose tightening around her neck, Consort Cleo shrieked in near-hysteria. Well, of course she would. While Brian had childishly dashed off boasting, 'I'm going to bag that golden wolf!', we had been delightfully busy planting our own concocted evidence.
Even so, the Castrein Duchy had maintained some ethical restraint. Unlike the Consort, they hadn't scattered anything with the lethality of nuclear waste. It was merely common beast bait, the kind routinely employed by vanguard scouts on the warfront.
"I have been officially investigating the evidence behind Princess Titania's curse since yesterday, with Your Majesty's explicit authorization! Your Majesty! High Priest Marjid arrived at the palace today specifically to purify that very curse, and yet...!"
Consort Cleo glared with venomous hatred at High Priest Ilian and pressed on.
"High Priest Ilian, was it not you who stayed within the Empress's Palace all this time tending to Titania? How does it make any sense whatsoever that you uncover such 'evidence' only at this exact moment?!"
"Imperial Consort Cleo speaks truly."
High Priest Ilian bowed his head, his visage etched with deep, mournful remorse.
"If, under the pretext of nursing a patient, I failed to notice sinister filth festering in the Rose Palace, then I am utterly unworthy of the mantle of High Priest. To discipline my own negligence and offer whatever aid I could to Her Highness's investigation, I personally inspected every corner of the imperial grounds starting at dawn."
He paused briefly, letting the gravity of his words settle across the stunned onlookers.
"However, to my profound regret... the cleric responsible for the 'investigation' Her Highness conducted yesterday was merely an apprentice priest, whose sole duty was checking Her Highness's health during occasional visits. He was an inexperienced novice who possessed neither the skill nor the divine sight to decipher when such cursed relics were buried, let alone who brought them past the palace gates."
Cleo had plotted to corner High Priest Ilian—who had openly aligned himself with the Castrein Duchy—by framing him as hopelessly incompetent for failing to detect a curse under his nose. Instead, her own scheme boomeranged viciously back onto her head.
Trapped in her own tangled web, the flustered consort stammered defensively.
"W-What preposterous nonsense! Whether apprentice or ordained, what difference does rank make when identifying and cleansing evil?!"
"I was informed that my esteemed brother, High Priest Marjid, was scheduled to arrive at the palace today. If you will pardon my candor, Imperial Consort... why did you not request an inspection from me yesterday, fully aware that I was lodging just steps away at the Empress's Palace? Why did you immediately conclude that the curse targeted solely the Rose Palace, and arrange to summon Brother Marjid only for today?"
Cleo scrambled frantically for an excuse.
"Because Titania would not wake, and disturbing rumors arose around the Rose Palace!"
"Had you formally requested that I inspect the sword to cleanse it, I would have gladly done so. Yet Your Highness never sent for me."
The Emperor's expression darkened. His gaze turned toward Cleo, sharp and heavy with suspicion.
To be sure, until yesterday, the Emperor had likely assumed Cleo was merely playing one of her usual petty palace tricks. He probably intended to indulge her and sweep it under the rug within reasonable bounds.
Yet he was never the sort of ruler to shield or trust a consort whose deceit was being dismantled and exposed so disgracefully before an entire audience.
Because Consort Cleo understood that selfish trait better than anyone, the blood drained entirely from her face.
"Imperial Consort," Ilian said gently. "Allow me to ask one question. Did you assert that the evidence of this curse was unearthed from beneath the soil of the Rose Palace?"
"Y-Yes! Everyone bore witness! The moment rumors spread that the sword might be cursed, I grew terrified the Rose Palace was in peril...!"
"That is an absolute impossibility."
Raymon's voice cut through the cavernous corridor like a chilled blade. Stepping forward without another word, he snatched the pitch-black relic from Cleo's trembling maid and pressed it against a small, squirming rat he had brought along.
The instant the creature touched the blackened artifact, it convulsed violently. Its tiny frame distended, flesh swelling and bones snapping outward with sickening pops. Screeching a bloodcurdling wail, the monstrosity lunged straight for Raymon's throat.
With a single, effortless downward slash of his sword, Raymon obliterated it.
A rodent that had fit comfortably in a man's palm had inflated in mere seconds to the size of a monstrous boar before collapsing into a smoking, lifeless carcass on the stone floor. The surrounding knights and attendants froze, robbed of speech. The Emperor's jaw dropped in sheer terror.
"W-W-What in heaven's name is that?!"
Raymon explained with impeccable, frigid etiquette.
"Had this object been buried beneath the ground for any substantial period, the entire Rose Palace estate would have decayed into an uninhabitable den of corruption—a festering cradle giving birth to demonic beasts. As you can see, this foul artifact is so vile that any beast lacking strong intellect or spiritual fortitude mutates upon the barest contact. Any grass nearby would wither; any animal would turn monstrous. Indeed, sensing an ominous anomaly encroaching upon the Imperial Palace, I rushed into the grounds this very morning."
Even though the Emperor knew full well that Raymon had spent the past days practically living at the Empress's Palace under the excuse of checking on me, witnessing a fist-sized rat swell into a rampaging demon right before his nose was enough to drain every drop of color from his cheeks.
Naturally. He had believed the Consort was merely orchestrating a modest political squabble; he had never imagined she had brought something so horrifyingly volatile within steps of his own life.
Raymon turned his unblinking golden gaze upon the trembling woman.
"I must ask you, Imperial Consort. What color was the earth where this relic was allegedly unearthed within the Rose Palace?"
Sensing impending ruin, Cleo scrambled desperately to pass the blame.
"T-The Rose Palace grounds were horribly scorched and ruined from the previous disturbance, so it was impossible to tell what color the soil was...! Y-Yes! By chance, the head maid of the Rose Palace is standing right there!"
Head Maid Natalie stepped forward from the shadows, bowing deferentially before Cleo.
"You oversee the Rose Palace, do you not? You were present during the search for this curse. Tell us—what did the ground look like?"
"Just as Her Highness says, the Rose Palace has fallen into such disrepair of late that it bears little resemblance to its former self. With charred lawns and scattered debris awaiting reconstruction..."
Raymon cut through Natalie's measured explanation with a voice like cracking winter ice.
"I was told the Rose Palace had grown desolate, its staff dismissed and its mistress departed. Are you truly certain this artifact was buried in that soil by chance, only to be miraculously uncovered during Her Highness's investigation?"
If I had truly been "cursed" into an eternal coma while calamities repeatedly struck my estate, the earth across the Rose Palace would have long turned pitch-black. Every leaf and blossom would have rotted into dust, transforming the palace into a living purgatory.
Had the artifact truly been buried there for as long as Cleo claimed, a catastrophe of demonic beasts should have erupted weeks ago.
After all, wild birds, stray cats, and woodland creatures roamed the neglected courtyards of the Rose Palace every single day.
Digging any further into this matter would only seal the Consort's doom.
For Cleo could never, under any circumstances, admit the truth—that she had procured the cursed relic herself, secretly buried it in the dirt, and theatrically dug it up mere moments later.
Her face twisted in silent humiliation, Consort Cleo bit her trembling lip until it nearly bled.