The Liar and the Liar
The news that the First Prince had extended a helping hand to the Fidus Duchy sent shockwaves through the imperial court and beyond. Some whispered that the abandoned Fidus family was once again under the protection of the imperial family. Others argued that the First Prince's intervention was a deliberate insult—a sign that the imperial family was preparing to utterly crush the duchy just as it attempted to rise again. Ultimately, the nobility split into two factions: those who favored a wait-and-see approach, and those who believed they should realign themselves with the Fidus Duchy before it was too late, creating a subtle, tense rivalry between them.
Tollin's mind was as chaotic as the frantic maneuvering of the nobles. Sitting at his desk and organizing documents, Tollin clutched his head, recalling the chilling, distant look on the Emperor's face whenever the First Prince was mentioned. Since returning to the duchy, his days had remained relentlessly hectic. In fact, the psychological warfare the nobles waged over the Fidus Duchy made him busier than ever, leaving him barely a moment to breathe.
Everyone else in the ducal estate believed Tollin would defend the family with an iron resolve, just as he had done immediately after Agoni Fidus's death. They remembered how he had shaken off his grief and returned to his duties a mere day after the Duke's passing. None of them knew that when he sat alone in his office, a suffocating guilt would creep up on him, forcing him to halt his work and writhe in silent agony.
He even managed the Young Duke's heir training—which he used to oversee in person—solely through written reports, using his busy schedule as an excuse. He simply could not bring himself to look at the child's face. He was the one who had killed the Duke. The memory of the Duke gasping for air, writhing in pain, and vanishing in an instant—none of it had faded for even a second. And through it all, the First Prince had been smiling cruelly.
Since that day, Tollin had secretly abandoned his faith. If the descendants of the gods were such monsters, he resolved that he would rather deny the existence of the gods themselves. Yet, he was merely a weak human, and the world he inhabited belonged to those very gods; open rebellion was impossible. Determined to protect what little remained, he bowed his head, striving to remain invisible to their eyes. In the council chambers, Tollin had to be careful not to let even his gaze wander in the presence of the First Prince.
He bowed to them as if he were an ant before a human, meekly complying with their demands. All to survive. Thanks to his submission, the Fidus Duchy and his father were safe, but a wave of humiliation and guilt threatened to drown him. He tried to convince himself that he had no choice, that it was the wisest decision, but he could not master his emotions.
What would happen now? Would the Young Duke witness him meeting the First Prince? Tollin dreaded the thought of the young heir seeing him bow to his father's murderer. Like a racehorse wearing blinders, Tollin had been running forward without looking back, but now, for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to fully recall the face of his former master—the face he had tried so desperately to erase.
If the Duke had reached Teritum, the resting place of the dead, and was looking down upon them, what would he say to Tollin? Suppressing his overwhelming guilt, Tollin closed his eyes. Then, as he always did, he put on a mask of composure and returned to his work.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Agoni Fidus was very much alive in the mortal realm, and thus was in no position to look down upon Tollin from the heavens.
"Please, let me go! I'm just an ordinary old man!"
Though he was currently doing his absolute best to return to the embrace of his family.
Agoni Fidus was still locked in a dungeon, his limbs tightly bound. It had been about two weeks since he was captured. They had stripped him of all his belongings and thrown him into this damp, musty cell. His captors provided only the bare minimum of sustenance to keep him alive, offering absolutely no explanations.
No matter how much Agoni begged the food deliverers to let him speak with whoever was in charge, they merely slid the bowl inside and left as if they were deaf. Just as Agoni was driven to the brink of madness and considering an escape attempt despite his still-unhealed leg, a group of people who clearly weren't mere subordinates finally visited the dungeon.
Agoni struggled to his feet, his bound limbs heavy, and shouted at them.
"Please, let me go! I'm just an ordinary old man!"
Most of the figures watching him from outside the bars wore long robes that dragged along the floor. They stood at a distance, observing him as if he were an incredibly dangerous savage.
Agoni Fidus pleaded desperately with his interrogators, shouting that he was merely a harmless, slightly unlucky old man over sixty, and that they had nothing to gain from him. However, given his robust physique and towering height—neither of which belonged to a typical sexagenarian—his pleas did not seem to carry much weight.
"Ratel, is it true that this man opened the entrance to the cave and walked in?"
The elder with the longest beard asked the black-haired youth who had been leaning against the wall, quietly observing the situation. It was the young man with golden eyes who had dragged Agoni out of the cave. Agoni looked at him, silently begging him to prove his innocence, but the youth did not even spare him a glance.
"Yes. I felt a strange energy and opened the entrance, only to find him collapsed unconscious in the center of the cave."
"Hmm."
Muttering that the youth named Ratel would have no reason to lie, the robed figures turned their gazes back to Agoni. To call him an imperial dog was strange, as he had entered unarmed, carrying nothing but a sack of rocks. Yet to call him an ordinary man was equally absurd, given his extraordinary aura. And to call it a mere coincidence was impossible; this place was a divine fortress that had thoroughly barred outsiders for over fifty years.
"Look, I don't even know what that cave is for! I lost my footing, fell off a cliff, and woke up there. You searched me earlier, so you already know. I have absolutely nothing on me!"
Silently praising his past self for dressing so simply for the hunting competition, Agoni mixed truth with lies to plead his innocence. Though his clothes were of fine quality, they hardly screamed "Duke." If he kept insisting, he might be able to pass himself off as a wealthy merchant. Fortunately, the impact of the fall had left his outer garments in tatters.
"That is an absurd lie. The cave is touched by the breath of Lady Amica. The claim that he just stumbled inside must be a blatant falsehood."
A man with a relatively young voice among the robed figures pointed at Agoni and spoke.
"If he is lying, it means the descendants of Abaran have found us. And that would mean our final bastion of defense has fallen."
As the long-bearded man who had spoken to Ratel replied, a heavy tension settled over the group. Agoni Fidus was practically bursting with frustration. He had no idea how he had ended up in what seemed to be a heretic stronghold, and these people clearly had no intention of listening to him. Taking a step forward, Agoni approached the iron bars and appealed to them.
"Please, let me return. I have a young child waiting for me at home. I left a heavy burden on the shoulders of my companion."
This, at least, was entirely true. The thought of the young heir and Tollin bearing the consequences of his actions filled him with such worry and guilt that he could not sit idle. At his heartfelt plea, the suspicious captors stared at him in silence. Receiving no answer, Agoni hoped that perhaps they might show a shred of kindness, just as the young man who rescued him from the cave had. But...
"I am sorry, stranger, but you will not leave this place alive."
The long-bearded elder stepped forward, utterly crushing Agoni's hope. Agoni asked calmly,
"Do you truly take lives based on nothing but unconfirmed suspicion?"
"If a small sacrifice allows the whole to survive, then yes, without hesitation."
"..."
"..."
Agoni Fidus and the calm elder stared at each other in silence.
"...If I am indeed your enemy sent by the imperial family, as you claim, killing me won't stop this place from being discovered anyway."
"It would buy us time. Or we could use you as a hostage."
"Even if I am truly just an incredibly unlucky man with no ties to the imperial family?"
"Though that is highly unlikely, just in case, I will give you two choices."
The elder held up two fingers in response.
"Die right now, or remain our prisoner until the day you draw your last breath."
Agoni's gaze clashed with the elder's. As the elder stepped closer to the bars, his cloudy golden eyes were revealed beneath the shadow of his hood. The elder observed Agoni dispassionately, and Agoni did not look away. It was Agoni who broke the subtle battle of wills first.
"Haha."
Watching the elder's eyebrows twitch at his laughter, Agoni tilted his head slightly.
"Let's stop this posturing, followers of Amica."
Agoni sat back down with a thud, his limbs still bound. The people outside the bars, who had kept their eyes glued to him, could not hide their bewilderment. Only two remained unfazed: the elder pressuring him, and Ratel. Looking around at them, Agoni spoke.
"As you can see, I am long past the age of being naive."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
At the long-bearded elder's quiet question, Agoni let out a dry chuckle.
"It means I know you cannot kill me."
Agoni Fidus had fought in countless wars and slain many by his own hand. Any ordinary greenhorn might have been paralyzed by fear, unable to think straight, but he was neither stupid nor naive.
"If you could have killed me, you would have started with torture. If you hesitated because you were afraid I might actually be an innocent bystander, then you aren't the type of people who can kill in cold blood. And if you are the type who doesn't care about such things, then there must be a reason you can't even touch me. Looking into your eyes, elder, I suspect it's the latter."
Agoni kept his eyes locked on the silent man before him as he continued.
"For instance... you might be afraid that I am someone chosen by Amica."
As if Agoni had hit the nail right on the head, several sharp gasps echoed through the dungeon from the robed figures. The elder who had been interrogating him slowly pulled back his hood, revealing curly white hair and a face that looked surprisingly mischievous.
"Ah, you've caught me."
Speaking in a playful tone that completely discarded his previous gravity, the elder extended his hand through the bars. Agoni stared at him, wondering if the man was seriously offering a handshake to someone with bound limbs. But in the next instant, the ropes binding him severed into pieces and fell to the floor. Watching them drop, Agoni knew he had made the right gamble.