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chapter 63
The three men entered Dantes’s inner study. No one else was allowed inside this room, and it was completely soundproofed—making it the only place where they could speak freely.
Marco stretched with a huge yawn.
“Why does it feel like the day never ends and just keeps going?”
“Please. I ask you to work for the first time in forever, and you start whining.”
Dantes replied as he slipped the medical report back into its envelope. Marco plopped down onto the sofa and turned his head only slightly.
“So, did you meet her?”
“Marco, ask something that makes sense. How could he possibly meet her? Do you know how big the imperial palace is?”
Cesario scolded him. Marco clicked his tongue and looked away.
Dantes had no intention of telling them about Rosellina’s current condition or that he had seen her today. He didn’t want them adding any unnecessary comments about his relationship with her. What remained now was something he had to resolve on his own.
He placed the medical report in the top drawer and stood up.
“Anything new about who was behind the Black Tower incident?”
“Looks like it’s connected to Fort. Quite a few people who envied or disliked Roberto are tangled up in this.”
“A mere gatekeeper had ties to a high-ranking knight?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Weird, right? But it seems like you couldn’t really be part of the group unless you joined in on this. They probably wanted a chance to get promoted, so they hung around the group. It’s bigger than we thought. Some of the involved people are from families we know.”
Marco set down the stack of documents he had brought, looking slightly bothered. Dantes sat across from him and began reading through them.
They were classified lists of those around Fort who had participated in, or supported, the incident. The number was quite large. Many of them were successors to notable noble families expected to inherit leadership positions.
“They didn’t look like they had the guts for this, but they’re all in on it.”
“Some of them even quit the knighthood after Fort died. As if that’s going to save them from punishment. Hiding behind daddy’s back and shaking in fear—maybe they think that’ll save their necks.”
Marco scoffed. Dantes nodded. He had no intention of letting them off just because they had resigned.
It was an act of betrayal. At best, it was planting the seed of treason. They had leaked information to the Kingdom of Terzes, and tried to gain personal satisfaction and benefits from it. That could never be called loyalty.
Nothing they did was for Dantes.
He checked how many familiar noble families were on the list—anything from prestigious families that held strong positions in Senrayta to small, unknown houses.
There were always fools—whether in the past or now—who believed that as long as it was “for the empire and the emperor,” any wrongdoing was justified.
“Is this just some childish power struggle between a bunch of men gathered together?”
At Gunter’s question, Dantes shook his head.
“It’s more than that. These guys alone couldn’t have connected directly with Terzes. There must be older people involved—ones with political experience.”
“So basically, they were used by greedy nobles with black hearts?”
Marco said, and Dantes nodded.
“That’s the more accurate view. Whatever justice Fort thought he was burning with, the rest of these idiots don’t have the courage to openly defy imperial authority. Many of them probably don’t even know which faction they actually belong to.”
“So there’s another force pulling the strings—using these feelings to get what they want?”
Cesario summarized Dantes’s thoughts. Dantes poured some liquor from a bottle on the table into a glass. He downed it in one shot and wiped his mouth.
“It’s not the work of a single family. And I don’t think the Marquis of Turzak is the central figure. He probably just joined in to suck out whatever benefits he could.”
“Marquis Turzak? I disagree. Who else would dare to directly collude with the Kingdom of Terzes? Only Mildred Turzak.”
Marco particularly hated the Turzak family. Their rigid traditionalism suffocated him—they copied old customs blindly and chased only money and honor. The Delion they envisioned was a place where no one outside their circle would be treated as human. And the problem was that this greedy Turzak family had massive influence in Senrayta.
Marco’s father held a position related to taxes and currency, so their families had disliked each other since he was young. To make matters worse, the eldest son of the Turzak family, Connie Turzak, constantly clashed with Marco—imitating Marco’s style, trying to steal the women he dated, and envying everything Marco had. At this point, the very name “Turzak” made Marco shake his head violently.
“Don’t get worked up. It’s just a feeling. We need more information. I’m not excluding any possibilities—I’m leaving them all open. That’s the only way to uproot the whole thing.”
“Please, please, please. I hope that Turzak family gets destroyed soon. Do you know how much of a complex that Connie bastard has toward me? If he comes to the next social party wearing the same outfit as me again, I swear I’ll kill him!”
Marco grabbed his head as if imagining something horrifying. The atmosphere lightened slightly. Gunter patted Marco on the shoulder.
“It’s okay. You look way better.”
“Of course! I look nothing like that long-nosed troll!”
Gunter scratched his head, still not used to Marco’s intense self-love. Cesario poured liquor into another empty glass.
“If it were the Turzak family, things would actually be easier for Dantes. It’s because it doesn’t look like them that he’s more troubled, right?”
Dantes gave a small nod.
“Either way, this is an issue I was bound to face at some point. Honestly, it might be a good thing it’s happening early in my reign. If I root it out within ten years, the ten after that will be stable.”
He refilled his glass and drank again.
It was late at night. He had been buried in work for days, and just for today, he wanted to relax with his friends—drink honestly, share meaningless chatter. But such things were luxuries for an emperor.
He knew he had to be satisfied simply with the fact that he had trusted aides—friends—with whom he could speak freely about delicate matters without suspicion. Pressing his tired eyes, he continued.
“Has a reply come from the Kingdom of Terzes?”
“It has. They asked if we could soften the conditions a bit, but as you said, we told them that’s impossible. When we asked for the ringleader within their royal family, they named the eighth prince.”
“That’s absurd. He’s eighteen. There’s no way someone his age could mobilize a force like that.”
Marco snorted, but Dantes spoke firmly.
“Age isn’t the issue. What matters is that the eighth prince failed to defend the border last year. He’s been completely eliminated from the succession battle. He’s lost public support, and no nobles will back him.”
“…”
“That means he’s a prince whose death at the hands of another nation’s power wouldn’t matter.”
The succession struggle in Terzes was fierce. Their current king was warlike and actively encouraged competition among his sons. The ten princes fought savagely. Currently, the most likely heirs were the eldest, Brad; the third prince, Gallad; and the fifth, Argon.
“Apparently Prince Argon will be the one sent here to negotiate.”
“Argon the expert at cleaning up other people’s messes… poor guy. Whenever his father or older brother caused a disaster, he was the one stuck fixing it. So who’s the real culprit this time?”
Marco clicked his tongue. Cesario, however, seemed to think differently.
“I wish it were that simple. But what I’m hearing doesn’t sound good. According to spies, Argon himself seems to have maneuvered things so that he has to be the one to come.”
“Why him, and why now?”
“He must have something he wants to discuss with me.”
Dantes answered as though he had been expecting it.
The Kingdom of Terzes was like a mouse cornered by a cat. If Dantes wished, he could take the kingdom without much difficulty. He simply hoped the process wouldn’t cost the lives of soldiers and civilians.
The empire’s territory was already large enough, and border conflicts had sharply decreased. War meant nothing to Dantes at this point.
But that was Dantes’s perspective. For Terzes—locked in a brutal succession war—things were different. Whoever became king would be doomed if swallowed up by Delion.
Conversely, even a losing candidate could win the throne if Delion supported him.
“Things just keep getting more interesting. So what do you plan to do, Dantes?”
“There’s no point making some grand plan. It’s their internal issue—they should handle it themselves. Coming to me to whine about it already disqualifies them as rulers. But—”
“…”
“—meeting him has value.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know exactly who attacked me and who took part. When there’s division within your enemy’s camp, information leaks like water. Whatever happens, this is a good opportunity for us.”
Dantes recalled Rosellina—standing before him, covered in blood, her breath ragged as she held the restraints in her hand after defeating high-ranked mercenaries.
“Pain must be returned equally. A hundred times. A thousand times.”
“Ugh, that gave me chills just hearing it.”
Marco tried to lighten the mood with a casual comment, but Dantes’s expression didn’t ease. Cesario opened his mouth, as if agreeing with Dantes’s judgment.
