MDK 38

Episode 38: The Sealed Warehouse

The Arken Empire, Underground Prison of the Imperial Palace.

Soldiers in work uniforms shouted.

“Hey, shift change!”
“Ugh, why are you dragging your feet?”
“What are you talking about? I got here before the bell even rang.”
“You little punk, I’ll get back at you for this later.”

The current guards, visibly annoyed, began the handover process.

“By the way, it’s been a while since we’ve had prisoners here.”
“Now that you mention it, didn’t you go out for the raid? Are these people really demon worshipers?”

One of the guards asked about his colleague’s impressions. No matter how he thought about it, they seemed more like starving vagrants than demon followers.

“I don’t know about the ones we brought in, but I was with the demon worshipers.”
“Wait, seriously? Real demon worshipers? Isn’t that term just something they use when hunting down agitators?”
“These ones are the real deal. We caught them during a raid.”
“Wow, real demon worshipers appearing now? Does that mean the empire’s in decline?”

The incoming guard glared sharply.
“Be careful saying things like that. If I report you, you’ll be arrested as a demon worshiper too.”
“Alright, alright, scary stuff. Let’s finish the shift change. I’ve got a date with Ashley tonight.”
“Why are you so obsessed with that barmaid?”

While checking the prisoner log, the incoming guard suddenly froze.

“Hey, this idiot didn’t even count them properly!”
“What are you talking about?”
“We reported capturing 12 prisoners.”

The incoming guard pointed at the list.

“Then why are there 13 listed here?”
“What are you talking about? There were 13 when we brought them in.”
“Are you saying we miscounted? We specifically counted 12 when we tied them up and reported it.”
“Are you accusing me of being wrong? I counted them one by one when putting them in! Come and see for yourself!”
“Oh, really? Wanna bet a gold coin?”
“Make it 10 gold coins, smart guy!”
“Fine, 10 gold coins. Get ready to lose, punk.”

Both of them, full of confidence, headed to the cell where the heretics were held.

“One, two, three, four…”

After finishing the count, the result was clear.

“There are 12, you moron!”

The incoming guard smacked the other’s head.
“What? No way!”

Doubting himself, the outgoing guard counted again.
“What?”

Just as before, there were only 12.

“You idiot! Were you drunk on duty or something?”
“I-I only drank a little!”
“A little? You’re heading straight to the brig! If you don’t want to go, prepare those 10 gold coins. Got it?”
“Ugh, something feels off, though.”

The outgoing guard glanced back at the cell. Inside, the exhausted prisoners seemed resigned to their fate, waiting to die.

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Palace…

“This is going to be tricky.”

A man with brown hair, a defined jawline, and striking features stood before a mirror in a bathroom, avoiding others’ eyes. His name was Jed Swallow.

“Two eyes on my ass. Sure, you need them.” Jed grumbled irritably.

The process of entering and escaping the prison demanded skills that only seasoned experts could execute.
“Of all places, the imperial palace.”

If it was discovered that someone had escaped, alarms would be raised. The empire’s strongest knights and mages would descend upon him, and there would be no escape.

To avoid detection, his movements had to be as seamless as water flowing. This wasn’t an easy task, even for someone like him.

So, Jed relied on his experience to figure out a method.
‘Like ditching a partner at a party…’

The key was to slip away unnoticed while the other was distracted, making them doubt their own memory.

The execution was surprisingly simple—easier than leaving a date behind at a party. At least no one here would scream his alias and swing a weapon at him in rage.
‘Maybe I have some natural talent for this.’

After escaping, Jed sneaked into the servants’ dressing room as planned. Initially worried about finding the right size, he quickly discovered there was no need. The uniforms were designed to fit all sizes, prepared for frequent replacements due to the high turnover rate.

“Looks like people here drop like flies.”

The short lifespan of servants was evident; they were treated as disposable. Though he disliked the thought, Jed was all too familiar with such realities.

“Ferda Valdrova.” He thought deeply about his superior.
‘What am I to that man?’

Ferda’s manner was blunt and borderline rude. Yet, Jed didn’t sense malice from his behavior. Ferda seemed like someone who had never properly communicated with others and was only now trying to.

Jed realized this during an earlier conversation, when Ferda had asked him for advice.

“How do you talk to women?”

Jed hadn’t expected such an innocent question from someone of Ferda’s age. Amused, he had shared tips based on his own experiences.

Afterward, Ferda had commented,
“You’re lucky to have that face.”

To this day, Jed wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult.

In this mission, Ferda had promised documents related to Jed’s sister. If that promise was true, their relationship would take on a new meaning.

“Alright, time to get to work.”

After checking his appearance in the mirror, Jed began moving according to plan.

As he stepped into the palace corridors…
“Hey, you!”

A voice echoed. The corridor was empty except for Jed.
“Who are you?” Jed muttered under his breath, “Two eyes, my ass.”

Meanwhile, Ferda placed his hand on the Orb of Truth.

The orb asked,
“Do you swear that you do not follow demons or abide by their will?”

Ferda smirked inwardly.
“What nonsense.”

The records in the sealed warehouse revealed how the orb truly worked. The Orb of Truth didn’t detect lies or judge sincerity.

“The key is the voice reciting the vow.”

The magic lay in the voice reciting the oath. It subtly influenced the mind for just an instant. The orb merely gauged whether the subject’s consciousness wavered in response to the magical suggestion.

For someone like Ferda, twisting the truth was second nature.

“Do you swear that you do not follow demons or abide by their will?” The voice repeated the question.

“Regent, are you alright?” Even Yuren looked concerned.

Ferda needed to answer. Though he sought the Demonic Codex, his loyalty lay with Valdrova, not demons.

“I swear.”

The voice posed a second question:
“Do you swear that your visit to this warehouse is not driven by personal desires?”

This mission was solely for Valdrova. There was no room for doubt.

“I swear.”

“Do you swear loyalty to the Empire?”

The Empire Must fall.
“I swear.”

Moments later, the blue light of the Orb of Truth began to change, signaling its judgment. – Verified.

The light turned green, and Ferda removed his hand from the orb.

“This is the process for accessing the Sealed Warehouse?”

It felt laughably simplistic, but Ferda knew that for those unaware of its workings, it was a trap they’d inevitably fall into. Even now, thinking about it made him chuckle.

“It’s a strange artifact, isn’t it?”

As Ferda stared at it, Yuren interjected casually.
“Yes, strange indeed.”

Leaving the odd artifact behind, Ferda and the magic investigator descended deeper. They walked down an endless spiral staircase until they reached the first Sealed Warehouse.

Inside, there were storage cabinets containing sealed copper pipes. This was a Record Repository, housing secrets that could not be revealed to the outside world—shameful truths of the empire or catastrophic events that could have destroyed the continent.

Ferda had used the records in this place to manipulate Jed into cooperating.
‘By now, he should have made it. Or has he not?’

There was no way to communicate, so Ferda could only trust that Jed would handle things on his own.
‘Maybe this operation didn’t even need him after all.’

Ferda chuckled at his own joke.

Jed was crucial to this mission.

“These records are dull and unnecessary for you to know about,” Yuren remarked, as if warning Ferda not to touch them.

Ferda, having no interest in the records, decided to lighten the mood with a question.

“Don’t you ever feel curious when you come to places like this?”

Yuren nodded.
“Of course. I’ve always been a bit scholarly.”

“So, have you ever looked?”
“Not once. There’s no reason to burden myself with knowledge I don’t need.”

Yuren’s professionalism, rare in this corrupt empire, explained why he had risen to the rank of magic investigator.

After briefly surveying the area, they moved on to the second Sealed Warehouse, located deeper below.

As they descended further, Ferda noticed something.
“This familiar smell…”

Thick malice and curses seemed to radiate from the surroundings, like the whispers of temptation and despair. The sensation was as if predatory eels circling a dead body at the bottom of a lake.

Sensing the deepening tension, Yuren asked,
“Are you alright?”

The correct answer was not “of course.”

“What are you referring to?”
“Nothing, haha,” Yuren replied, quickly dropping the topic.

Ferda knew better than to reveal he was sensing anything unusual. Deception was his first priority.

The darkness around them grew heavier. The faint light of their candles was barely enough to illuminate the area. Most people would feel fear and instinct to flee in such an oppressive atmosphere.

But Yuren led the way, and Ferda followed.

Passing through a thick curtain of shadows, Ferda’s vision suddenly opened up.
“…Wow.”

A natural exclamation escaped him. The second Sealed Warehouse resembled more of a secret lair for demon worshipers.

Among the various items, one immediately caught Ferda’s attention. On a central pedestal sat a book, chained in silver. Its cover, darker than the deepest shadows, exuded an ominous aura.

“The Shadow Magic of Barbatos.”

Known as the “Stealthy Demon,” Barbatos was a high-ranking archdemon, making the seal on this book exceptionally powerful.

“What do you think of this place?” Yuren asked.

Ferda replied instinctively.
“It reeks of demons. Utterly repulsive.”

“Haha, no need to be so formal. It’s more awe-inspiring than repulsive, don’t you think?”

‘Awe-inspiring, huh.’ Indeed, the dense mana radiating from the cursed items and grimoires was intoxicating. Anyone immersed in it would feel a sense of exhilaration. It whispered promises of overwhelming power, like rain in a drought or the release from overwhelming despair.

Ferda remained resolute.
“No, it’s disgusting.”

He had never once found such mana appealing, not even during his angriest, most vengeful moments. What he couldn’t possess, he destroyed—that had always been his way. And this cursed power wasn’t his, nor would it ever be.

“Really?” Yuren tilted his head, puzzled.
“It’s strange… Someone like you should be at least a little tempted.”

Yuren’s gaze turned sharp, his demeanor shifting. It wasn’t the strange atmosphere of the Sealed Warehouse affecting him. This was Yuren revealing his true nature.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that it’s just the two of us here.”

Yuren set down the necromancer’s grimoire he was holding and turned fully to face Ferda. His expression was now twisted with murderous intent—a fitting match for this cursed place.

“I’ve prepared a scenario,” Yuren began with a sinister smile.
“Go on.”
“The regent and I entered the Sealed Warehouse by his request. Overcome by the corrupting influence here, I had no choice but to eliminate him. Convincing, isn’t it?”

Ferda rested his chin on his hand, more curious than afraid.
“Do they kill people for being corrupted by dark magic here?”
“There are no exceptions for dark magic. Under the Almighty Light, there is no mercy.”

Yuren’s lips curled into a sinister grin.
“Not even for the regent of the provisional king.”

What a ridiculously strict empire.

“If I die, you won’t escape either.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. Unlike you, I have plenty of escape routes.”

Killing the regent of the provisional king and getting away with it? Ferda wasn’t curious about how Yuren planned to escape. What mattered now was that Yuren intended to kill him—and why.

“Does he know what will happen if I die?”

Unlike before, Ferda was now officially engaged. He bore the Valdrova name and was essentially family to the Red Dragon. Killing him would invite certain revenge, not from some petty inquisition, but from forces that could bring ruin to the empire.

“Is that his goal?”

An enemy willing to risk plunging the continent into chaos was standing right in the heart of the imperial palace.

Suddenly, Ferda recalled the Orb of Truth. Yuren had passed all its tests. The reason was clear.
“He knows the secrets of the Sealed Warehouse.”

From the start, Yuren had been lying about everything.
“There’s not a single decent person in this empire.”

Even in this precarious situation, Ferda smiled.
“Why are you laughing?” Yuren asked.
“It’s nothing. I just didn’t expect one of my silly scenarios to come true.”
“Your scenario?” Yuren tilted his head in confusion.
“I once imagined a scenario where I stopped a rogue investigator from trapping the regent. Unlike yours, mine is actually happening.”

Ferda needed Barbatos’s shadow magic. For that, the magic investigator had to die. Whether Yuren was corrupt or not didn’t matter to Ferda.

“Thanks to you, I don’t feel any guilt. Cleaning up trash is never a burden.”

The smile vanished from Yuren’s face.
“Do you think you can kill me?”

From Yuren’s perspective, Ferda’s claim was absurd. Yuren was a 5th Circle Master Mage, a renowned sorcerer even within the empire. Ferda, by contrast, was a mere 3rd Circle Mage, far beneath him.

“Don’t believe me?”

Mana gathered in Ferda’s right hand.
“Try and see for yourself.”

A spell shot from Ferda’s hand, faster than any ordinary mage could predict, streaking toward Yuren.