TGDM 07

Chapter 07

‘How utterly foolish.’

I looked down indifferently at the servant trembling on the floor.

‘Is there such a shortage of talent that they would entrust work to someone like that?’

Or perhaps those above simply had a terrible eye for people.

‘Even the steward’s mental barrier was no better than his. That says enough about his way of life.’

There are those who prioritize their own safety and peace above all else, making every other decision however they please.

Only after something happens do they suddenly become strict in order to avoid responsibility.

As expected.

The steward, who had been looking down at Osman with contempt, gestured to the soldiers waiting outside the door.

“You must understand how grave the crime of attempting to harm a hostage is, Osman.”

He emphasized that this was not something that could be brushed off by merely forcing him to swallow poisonous gruel made from toxic herbs.

“We will conduct a strict investigation to determine whether this was a unilateral act or whether there is someone behind it.”

He was likely saying this while being conscious of me, a servant from Bardia serving Elhart.

It was a line drawn to prove that the steward himself was uninvolved.

‘There don’t seem to be any other accomplices. I suppose this is enough.’

I had already conducted a thorough investigation using demonic authority. There was no way I had missed a mastermind.

“Take him away.”

“Yes, Steward!”

Osman, who had been trembling like a man out of his mind, was seized by the soldiers and dragged away.

“Ugh… s-save me… please save me…”

“What a pathetic man.”

The steward clicked his tongue as he watched him.

“Regardless of punishment, that man must kneel before my master and apologize.”

“Of course.”

As if it were obvious.

The steward’s shameless attitude—acting as if he were simply fulfilling his duty—was also absurd in its own way.

Still, people like him were easy to handle.

Satisfied with the confirmation, I nodded.

That servant named Osman had made a mistake.

He believed he had decision-making authority.

The same was true of the knight named Hamel, who had assaulted Elhart last night and ended up losing his life.

They acted as though they were exercising authority no one had granted them, while believing they were relieving their superiors of burden.

Authority flows from above—it is not something those below can simply pick up.

What an absurd way of thinking.

Why else would the Cradion Empire demand Elhart as a hostage?

The former crown prince of Bardia, who had already lost real power.

‘They intend to use Elhart in future conquest wars.’

He was said to possess such overwhelming strength that, all this time, he had essentially been the sole guardian of a corrupt kingdom.

‘Among the people of Bardia, he was called a guardian deity.’

They had isolated him and locked him away for now, but once Bardia was fully subjugated by Cradion and the point of no return was reached, they would attempt to win Elhart over.

‘Even if it means arranging a marriage with the imperial family.’

This was a common tactic even in the turbulent political landscape of the continent’s past.

Ideally, they would want Elhart to harbor resentment toward the homeland that abandoned him—but even if not, it didn’t matter.

They could still exploit the people of Bardia as hostages.

Even I, who had only stayed here for a single day, had been able to grasp this much.

Yet Osman had failed to comprehend even the slightest part of it and crossed the line.

If he had merely stopped at humiliation, it might have been one thing—but he attempted to harm Elhart on his own.

There was no way this would be overlooked.

They would make an example of him.

There was nothing more troublesome than subordinates you could not control.

After last night’s summary execution of the knight Hamel, and now Osman being thrown into prison today, the palace servants would inevitably become more cautious.

That Elhart must not be treated lightly.

And those too foolish to even realize that would simply be cut away by my hand.

What I needed to focus on now was the higher-ups.

“From now on, I will personally bring my master’s meals, so Steward, please go directly to the kitchen and give the instructions yourself.”

If this is not handled properly, you will end up just like that servant.

The steward, whose mental barrier had already collapsed once, hastily nodded as though he accepted my thought as his own.

‘Demonic power is convenient.’

There was nothing more effective against those close to being villains.

Though I had to be careful not to use it too often—they would start clinging.

Now that I had occupied their territory, they would likely demand responsibility and become troublesome.

To avoid being harassed again after finally shaking them off, it was essential to assess the magical defenses of this place.

I needed to determine the upper limit of force I could use without causing problems, and then apply it efficiently.

‘I should look around a bit before returning after the meal is prepared.’

According to the steward, I was currently in the Central Palace.

This was said to be the administrative core of Cradion, where high-ranking officials conducted their work.

Naturally, security was tight—but I was not an outsider at the moment, so I could move freely.

‘Only a few people are allowed above the third floor, though.’

I had no intention of wandering into such places in broad daylight and drawing suspicion.

‘First, I need to understand the structure of the building and its defenses.’

At the founding of Bardia, Mikhail had agonized over how to secure the palace.

Even experts had gathered and made many trial-and-error attempts, refining the system each time.

Three hundred years had passed since then, so it should have evolved into something far more perfect.

‘What is this… why is the imperial palace so sloppy?’

It looked like it could be breached with just one or two mid-level attack spells.

‘All they have is a basic alarm spell… what kind of confidence is this?’

While examining the walls, a possibility suddenly occurred to me.

‘Is Cradion lacking high-ranking mages?’

Now that I think about it, I don’t sense a single master-level mage within the palace.

No matter how large the city, it shouldn’t be to the extent that I cannot detect them.

‘It seems I’ll have to ask Elhart about this.’

He had likely been on the front lines until recently, so he would know Cradion’s military strength better than anyone.

‘The soldiers and knights in the Central Palace are not particularly strong.’

The ones guarding the detached palace seemed similar as well.

‘Judging from the imperial guards around the Emperor and Crown Prince, I’ll be able to assess more accurately.’

Even so, I didn’t expect to meet them easily.

Each would have their own offices—there was no reason for them to come all the way to the Central Palace.

‘I’ve roughly grasped the structure up to the second floor. I should head back.’

By now, the meal should be ready.

‘Our prince must be hungry.’

I hadn’t eaten much either, but I had long been accustomed to survival-level intake, so I rarely felt hunger.

‘Elhart, on the other hand, probably burns an enormous amount of energy just by breathing.’

Given his build and muscle mass, he likely needed at least ten times my food intake.

As I descended the stairs, mentally tracing the location of the dining hall the steward had told me—

‘…Hm?’

A surge of mana far beyond the knights I had encountered so far could be felt from the floor below.

‘Upper-tier. Not quite top-tier, but close.’

I quickly descended and blended into the other servants lining the corridor walls.

Keeping my head lowered naturally, I listened to their whispers and soon identified the visitor.

‘The Crown Prince. Lucky.’

To have the chance to observe a top-level figure in the enemy imperial palace just one day after infiltration.

As I subtly shifted my gaze, a blonde man walking at the center of the group came into view.

‘So that’s him.’

While gauging the level of the escort knights, I was momentarily startled.

The Crown Prince’s face glimpsed between the knights… bore a striking resemblance to Mikhail.

‘…Huh?’

I quickly lowered my gaze to avoid drawing attention, but questions filled my mind.

‘Could he possibly be Mikhail’s descendant?’

It might just be a coincidence—but…

I suppressed the urge to confirm further and waited for the group to pass.

And yet.

“……”

“Your Highness…?”

At first, it seemed like nothing more than a passing glance.

But then the Crown Prince stopped walking.

His gaze locked onto me—unmoving, piercing.

As if trying to confirm something.