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Chapter 21
“Red paper?”
As Theodore unconsciously reached toward the fluttering scraps, Claire hurriedly stopped him.
“Wait.”
Pulling him away from the bed almost by force, Claire’s pupils widened.
‘A talisman? That’s dangerous.’
The damp smell of moisture-soaked wood, the fishy scent of wet earth. The red paper carried the odor of a graveyard. The black characters written across it were in a language she had never seen before, but even at a glance they looked deeply ominous.
“Let’s leave this room first.”
Claire was certain those talismans were the cause of the madness. Theodore seemed to suspect the same, swallowing dryly before nodding.
“Alright.”
Old talismans weathered by time. There was only one person in the mansion who could have hidden something like this inside Theodore’s bedroom for at least two or three years.
“Let’s go to Isabella first.”
Just as the two of them tore their eyes away from the talismans and hurried toward the door—
“And where do you think you’re going at this hour?”
“Uncle…?”
Gregory stood waiting in front of the door as though he had expected them, accompanied by armed knights. The man with neatly tied dark blue hair draped over one shoulder smiled lazily.
“It’s nighttime now.”
A murderous glint entered Claire’s eyes at the relaxed confidence of a well-fed predator.
“Isn’t it about time you went to sleep? Sleep is very important for one’s health.”
Though armed knights stood behind him with weapons in hand, his voice sounded absurdly gentle. Theodore bit down hard on his lower lip before asking in a low voice,
“What is all this?”
“What do you mean?”
Bending slightly to meet Theodore’s gaze, Gregory continued speaking in the soft tone of someone soothing a child.
“What are you curious about? Why I’m guarding your door?”
Tilting his head, he paused briefly before his eyes curved with delight.
“Or since when those things have been hidden inside your bed?”
Gregory looked positively thrilled, like someone presenting a surprise gift and eagerly awaiting the reaction. Theodore felt so sick his vision nearly turned white.
‘That’s really my uncle?’
The dignified and benevolent uncle he had always known was nowhere to be found. In his place stood only a sinister madman, speaking with a twisted smile.
When Theodore failed to answer immediately and merely parted his lips soundlessly, Claire let out a deep sigh and spoke.
“I don’t think he’s in his right mind.”
It was infuriating that she had not realized it sooner. Gregory carried the same graveyard scent as the talismans. A damp, unpleasant trace like moisture trapped beneath stone. Worse still, his face was so full of madness that it was impossible to read his intentions.
“It saddens me that you think so. But I assure you, I’m perfectly sane.”
Ignoring his excuse, Claire’s eyes darted around as she assessed the situation.
‘Thankfully, Gregory isn’t carrying a sword. But to reach Lady Isabella’s room, we’d have to take down the knights first.’
There were twelve knights visible in the corridor. She could not judge their level of skill, but escorting a sickly little raccoon through them would be difficult.
“Today is a day I’ve truly long awaited. Of course, it would’ve been better if Theodore had realized it himself, but still—Claire, isn’t it fate that you personally came to Theodore first?”
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
Claire no longer bothered hiding her hostility, her brows deeply furrowed.
Theodore, pale-faced, grabbed Claire’s tightening arm and spoke.
“Did you do all this just to kill me? Because you wanted the count’s seat?”
Though he tried to keep his voice steady and heavy, the trembling beneath it was unmistakable. Even so, he stepped protectively in front of Claire and continued in a pained voice.
“If that was all, you should have simply asked openly. If it were you, Uncle, I would have handed everything over willingly!”
At those words, the smile vanished instantly from Gregory’s face.
“What did you just say?”
The playfulness disappeared, replaced by killing intent. His eyes darkened with obsessive fixation.
Gregory stepped forward and seized Theodore by both arms.
“Young master!”
“I’m alright.”
Theodore looked back at Claire and gave her a small nod before raising his eyes to Gregory once more.
Now stripped of his composure, Gregory looked deeply disappointed, his brows drooping.
“That’s not the point! Are you saying Voltaire is something you could cast aside so lightly?”
His fingernails dug harshly into Theodore’s arms, and blood slowly seeped through the sleeves of his nightclothes.
‘That lunatic.’
Claire gritted her teeth but did not immediately attack. Theodore kept signaling for her not to move.
“If it wasn’t for Voltaire, then why would you do this?”
“For the sake of Voltaire, of course.”
Without taking her eyes off Gregory, Claire whispered quickly,
“Young master, I don’t think reasoning with him is possible.”
His eyes had plainly gone insane. She thought further conversation would only waste time when Gregory spoke again.
“Theodore, what do you think symbolizes House Voltaire? What is the title the world uses for the Count of Voltaire?”
“The Guardian of the Border. The Unvanquished Knight.”
At Theodore’s answer, Gregory’s face lit up with ecstasy.
“Yes! The Unvanquished Knight! A being who protects the Empire’s borders with powers far beyond human limits! But…”
Like a man lost in a dream, Gregory released Theodore’s arms and gently brushed back his hair instead.
‘He really is just insane.’
Claire looked at him with disgust as his attitude shifted once again in an instant. Gregory, however, paid no attention and continued speaking.
“But ever since Lord Ludwig, no one possessing true power has appeared. The title of Unvanquished Knight now stands on the brink of extinction.”
His hand carefully stroked a lock of Theodore’s ash-gray hair.
“Leopold—I never expected anything from that man in the first place. But you are different. This ash-gray hair identical to the first Voltaire himself. The flame of Voltaire must still remain within you.”
“What does that have to do with those cursed things?”
“Those?”
Gregory looked toward the shattered bed littered with red talismans like the carcass of a disemboweled beast. He laughed quietly, as though amused by the question.
“There is nothing frightening about those papers. They are merely devices meant to help awaken your power.”
“Objects that help manifest abilities?”
Theodore had never heard of such a thing. If it were true, the entire Empire would already be in chaos.
“That’s impossible.”
“It is possible. I am the proof of the experiment myself.”
“Experiment?”
“When a person dies, where do you think their power goes? Does it simply disappear? Vanish from the world as though it never existed? But if that were true, then what about inherited abilities? What separates those born with power from those without it?”
Gregory had always wondered. When a person died and their flesh rotted away, did their power dissolve into the world as well? And if so, how could that loss be prevented?
“The truth is, abilities reside within the human soul. Therefore, if one can seize the souls of the dead, it becomes possible to preserve their powers as well.”
What had seeped into the paper were the spirits of the dead.
Beings that should have returned peacefully to the earth according to the natural order had been forcibly restrained, their eternal rest disturbed. Gregory gathered the enraged powers of those dead souls into bundles and used them to stimulate Theodore, hoping to awaken the dormant power of Voltaire within him.
“A bed is the perfect place for sweet dreams, wouldn’t you say? The powers of the dead constantly crave the bodies of the living. If they continue invading you over and over, eventually you begin to resemble them.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
The scent of graves. The damp lingering trace like the dying breaths of decaying things. She finally understood the true nature of the odor surrounding Gregory.
‘That man has absorbed the dead into himself.’
For a moment nausea surged through Claire, but she barely managed to suppress it.
“To resist their invasion, your soul would have no choice but to awaken its own power.”
Feeling the same revulsion as Claire, Theodore asked with difficulty,
“And if I failed?”
“What?”
“If I couldn’t overcome them and was devoured by the dead instead? If the power that awakened wasn’t Voltaire’s, but theirs?”
Gregory blinked briefly at the obvious anger in Theodore’s voice. Then, as though being asked something utterly natural, he answered calmly.
“Then I would have killed you. Just like Leopold.”
