🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter : 51
Catching One’s Breath
“Ahem. There is great cause for concern.”
Once the Tyutya massacre was brought to a close, the nobles voiced their anxieties.
“To think it happened just as monster activity season begins…”
“They say it was treason, don’t they?”
“They say the head of the family suffered from madness—tsk. Getting entangled with the imperial family never leads to anything good. Even if you die of old age, you should at least die properly.”
The Tyutya massacre was officially concluded as an act of treason.
Black sorcery, too, was a crime on par with treason—an art forbidden by imperial law—so it was not a false charge.
For years, the imperial throne had been sustained with blood.
The handling of the Tyutya massacre was entrusted to the imperial advisers and intelligence officers.
And so, the incident was quietly buried.
Those few who knew what had truly happened inside the palace, however, were miserable beyond words.
“Black sorcery manifested, you say? That’s a forbidden art, is it not? How much impurity must one be courting to die like that and be buried in the earth…”
The elderly advisers who were cleaning up the aftermath groaned in anguish.
Black sorcery touched upon death itself.
How blasphemous!
If one must die, one should grow old and die peacefully.
“The Tyutya affair is regrettable.”
Thus, the Tyutya massacre was concluded.
“This matter will be buried quietly.”
Hanelle dismissed it curtly.
The temple had also assisted in suppressing the situation and burying the Tyutya incident.
“It should be buried.”
Charlophe murmured softly, setting aside her thoughts.
“The Empire cannot afford to bear this chaos right now. It’s the natural course of action.”
Charlophe had come to the temple to put a final end to the Tyutya affair.
“The Tyutya matter has been settled. We can conclude it here.”
Only a handful of elderly advisers would ever know of this tragedy.
“Will you be returning to the palace now?”
“I’ve been away too long. I should return. Have someone outside—”
Soon, a junior priest departed, saying he would send word ahead.
“The people of the temple are generally quiet.”
“Maintaining dignity is also a virtue of the clergy. There’s no need to behave unbecomingly, is there?”
The door to the prayer chamber closed once more.
Adjusting her white priestly robes, Hanelle asked Charlophe,
“Do you know why black sorcery has been rejected?”
Charlophe tilted her head slightly.
“Because of death?”
“Correct. Death is an instinctive fear shared by all humans.”
And black sorcery governs that very death.
“Monsters and dark mana are secondary issues. The essence of black sorcery is death itself. People fear the realm beyond death. Since ancient times, it’s been believed that if one’s soul is tainted by black sorcery, it cannot be redeemed.”
Hanelle lit a candle as she spoke.
“The nobles will not involve themselves in this matter.”
She was already certain.
“They fear their own deaths as well. The higher their status, the older they are, the more sensitive they become to the prospect of dying.”
It was a blunt way of speaking, far removed from what one would expect of a High Priest.
“…Because of the belief that it touches death?”
“More precisely, because of the superstition that one cannot be saved after death. Who knows, really? The dead do not speak. Even if someone were to say after dying, ‘Ah, my soul was not redeemed,’ who would hear it?”
A painfully realistic statement.
And yet, not something a High Priest should say.
“No one would hear it.”
At that moment, Hanelle looked straight at Charlophe.
“Did you hear it?”
“……”
“Hm. I nearly had my tongue cut out.”
Blood trickled from Hanelle’s mouth.
“There are many restrictions on speech due to taboos. Please consider it the temple’s chains.”
“…I’ll be careful.”
“Please keep this from His Holiness the Pope. His blood pressure has been high lately, and he’s been relying heavily on medication. Old age is difficult. It would be nice if he could go somewhere sunny to recuperate, but…”
With her irreverent remarks, Hanelle wrapped worry and concern into a single breath. The conversation ended there.
“Please take care.”
The priest who had left earlier returned.
“May the blessings of the gods be with you.”
“‘No one hears it,’ huh…”
“What do you mean?”
Katarina, who had accompanied her as a guard, asked.
“I was wondering who listens to stories after death.”
“Once you’re dead, isn’t that simply the end?”
“That’s what I thought, too…”
I thought death was the end. Once I died, that would be it—nothing more I could do.
I think I told myself that on the day I faced death.
But death was not the end.
If death were the end, then Charlophe standing here now would make no sense.
“Your Majesty. Your Majesty?”
The carriage arrived. It stopped in front of the imperial palace, and the door opened.
The step was high, so a guard extended an arm.
“Are you all right?”
“…I’m going to His Majesty.”
The head attendant poked the other attendants urgently, and one of them ran off to inform the Emperor’s office.
Charlophe followed behind them.
‘Hah.’
She had an idea of what awaited her. All the avoidance until now was over. It was time to face it herself.
—Click.
The door to the office opened.
“Everyone else, close the door and leave.”
Benjamin, who had been listening to a report from his strategist, set his documents aside.
“You look like you have something urgent to say. Is everything all right?”
Charlophe steadied her breathing. Her breath slowed, and her gaze fell upon the documents resting on the side table.
‘Beverga.’
She recognized the handwriting.
“Beverga…”
It had been sloppy—full of gaps. If only she had widened her view a little, the outcome might have been different.
I died there, despite having no reason to die.
‘What did you do to me?’
Her fingertips turned pale.
She clenched her white-knuckled hand tightly.
Her nails dug into her skin with a grating sound.
“May I look?”
Benjamin slid the document toward her.
[Beverga family head / deputy head — trail lost.]
The Beverga family’s trail had also gone cold.
Charlophe slowly set the paper down.
“Have you seen enough?”
Benjamin closed the document and flipped the folder over, blocking it from her sight.
“…Did you track Beverga?”
“Hm. Beverga’s mistress died twice. The first wife died a year after giving birth to the deputy head. The second wife also died shortly after the wedding.”
Benjamin narrowed his eyes.
“Both women died with their bodies stiffened—and both deaths were easily buried.”
He stepped closer and cupped Charlophe’s chin.
“Charl.”
Their gazes locked tightly.
It felt like being captured—an unsettling sensation that wouldn’t fade.
“Catch your breath.”
“……”
“There’s no one here who means you harm.”
He spoke as though he knew something.
More time passed. Intelligence officers spread throughout the land, but the culprits’ trail remained elusive.
The criminal wielded black sorcery.
Finding a black sorcerer who had gone underground was beyond the realm of human ability.
“The situation has been temporarily resolved.”
Roskel laid down the documents as she reported.
“For black sorcery to fully manifest, more time will be needed.”
“How much time do you estimate?”
“Until the covenant holds. If they had broken it, things wouldn’t be this quiet. Black sorcery disrupts order by its very existence.”
Roskel asked carefully,
“How is Her Majesty the Empress?”
“She’s fine.”
“Fine, you say? By ‘fine’…”
“She doesn’t show it.”
She had suppressed her emotions.
Just as she always had—naturally.
“She resembles you.”
“Who?”
“Your Majesty. She’s similar, yet not quite.”
Roskel continued cautiously,
“Will it be all right?”
“……”
“She is direct blood.”
She placed the documents down and spoke gravely.
“Black sorcery is not a light charge. It is strictly forbidden by temple doctrine and imperial law. Under past imperial statutes, it is a crime warranting the eradication of three generations and the denial of one’s very existence.”
The Tyutya family was branded as heretical. Tyutya was the Empress’s direct family.
Even if the Empress had not resided with them, there was ample cause for her to bear responsibility alongside the family.
“Even if it came from the family’s enemies, it would still be the same.”
That was blood for you.
“There will be accompanying noise.”
This was no time to stay quiet—to keep one’s mouth shut and remain silent.
“What do you intend to do?”
“The imperial family is the pillar that must uphold the Empire’s balance. And a pillar must maintain its center. If the imperial family loses its center, chaos outside will only worsen.”
The weight of the crime was heavy. The law was severe, and the punishment rightly so.
“The criminal must be executed to properly restore order.”
The Empress held her center firmly. She did not waver in the slightest.
She merely looked a little lonely.
She fulfilled her duty as Empress completely.
“She acts as though it doesn’t affect her at all—that’s the problem.”
Benjamin waved his arm dismissively.
After finishing his work in the office, Benjamin removed his glasses. Time continued to pass. He pressed his fingers into his brow.
Fatigue slowly crept in, pushing him as if telling him to stop for the day.
The imperial palace lobby was quiet.
Benjamin stopped abruptly.
Suppressing his presence, he followed someone ahead.
A long corridor stretched through the lobby.
Charlophe stood there.
A red carpet was laid along the corridor, and several attendants passed by.
When Benjamin waved his arm, the attendants withdrew.
“Charl.”
He spoke her name familiarly.
“Why again…”
Why are you doing this again—
He swallowed the rest of the words.
It felt too much like scolding the Empress.
The corridor stretched straight ahead, and the nearby presences faded one by one.
The two stood silently, looking forward.
Then a shallow sigh escaped her red lips.
“My ankles feel heavy.”
“……”
“I just went for a short walk.”
Her voice trailed off.
“Maybe it was just my imagination.”
Charlophe shook her head slightly.
“Why did you send the attendants away?”
“I thought it would be more comfortable for you.”
“Being alone?”
“Why talk as if you’re alone when I’m right here?”
She took slow steps forward.
The red carpet stretched on.
Her slender body was light as a feather—though that didn’t mean her steps were light.
Charlophe tilted her head languidly, murmuring to herself.
“It feels like my ankles are getting heavier…”
As she stepped onto the red carpet and walked outside, the shawl draped over her shoulders slipped off helplessly.
“Charl.”
Benjamin called to her from behind.
“Charlophe Visennov.”
She turned back to look at him. As he approached, Benjamin draped the shawl back over her shoulders.
“Hold on.”
“……”
“Don’t walk alone.”
He gestured with his chin toward his hand.
“Where do you want to go?”
After a brief silence, she asked,
“…You seem like you know something—and like you don’t. Why don’t you ask?”
“You’re looking at me like you’re about to cry. It wouldn’t make sense for me to interrogate you.”
Charlophe shook her head.
“Right now, you look like you’ve scattered yourself into pieces—and if you were going to die, you’d drag those bastards down with you by the ankles.”
