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Chapter 16
Upon entering the capital’s main gate, Aiden and his party could not hide their grim expressions.
“What in the world….”
Scott’s hollow voice drifted through the air.
His low murmur reached even the knights behind them.
The streets looked nothing like they had during the departure ceremony.
“We believe in you, Lord Aiden!”
“Please save Strovana!”
The citizens who had once lined the streets to cheer them on were nowhere to be seen.
No—there wasn’t a single person in sight.
Aiden had expected crowds, given the departure ceremony, and even if they had been absent, he would not have been this disappointed.
But this was not merely disappointing.
There wasn’t even a rat on the streets.
One thought surfaced immediately:
Something has happened in the capital.
A blue vein bulged along Aiden’s sharp jawline.
“Scott, come with me. We’re heading straight to the Imperial Palace. The rest return to the manor and set up defensive positions.”
“Yes, sir!”
He tightened his reins and spurred his horse forward.
“Yah!”
The two of them raced through the capital without anyone blocking their path.
It felt as if they were riding across an open plain.
But when they finally arrived at the palace gates, Aiden’s expression darkened even further.
“So that’s where everyone went….”
Scott’s voice trailed off as his reddish-gold eyes scanned the surroundings.
The palace entrance was packed so tightly with citizens that there was no space to step.
They sat on the ground without chairs, staring blankly at one point ahead.
“Then we begin the ‘Feeding Competition’!”
With the loud announcement echoing from beyond the palace walls, people suddenly rose and rushed toward a single direction.
A man dressed as a palace servant stood there, handing out papers from a large sack.
“Take it slow! Take it slow!”
“I’ll take number 3!”
“I want number 7! Hurry up!”
“Please, line up properly!”
“What… is this…?”
Scott stared in disbelief.
Aiden, unlike usual, headed toward the palace gate guarded by imperial knights.
“I am Aiden Glaster. I must report the conclusion of the war against Brang to Her Majesty. Open the gate.”
“Do you have an invitation?”
“An invitation?”
“Without an event invitation, you were supposed to enter during the designated time. Otherwise, entry is not permitted.”
“I told you—this is a war report.”
“That is not allowed. No one may enter the palace until the event ends. That is the Emperor’s order. You will be contacted when it is over.”
“Do you understand what you’re saying? This is a war report!”
Scott’s frustration erupted, but the knight repeated the same answer like a machine.
“No entry. It is the Emperor’s order.”
Imperial knights were utterly unyielding.
In the end, Aiden and Scott had no choice but to turn back.
“What kind of event is this… to refuse even a war report?” Scott muttered in disbelief.
Aiden said nothing.
Soon, they reached where their horses had been tied—and there, a woman stood waiting.
When their eyes met, she bowed.
“Lord Aiden Glaster. I am Lilia Grenzach, a maid serving Princess Evelyn.”
“Princess Evelyn…?”
“She has instructed me to escort you to the palace. Please come with me.”
“So entry is possible?”
“Yes. However, only you may accompany me. We must avoid the guards.”
“Absolutely not.”
Scott stepped forward, blocking them.
“This is too suspicious. You cannot go alone.”
“This is for a private conversation,” Lilia replied calmly.
“I am his adjutant. I must accompany him.”
“Not allowed.”
The two stood in tense opposition.
Aiden finally spoke.
“Scott, return to the manor.”
“Sir!”
“If the princess called for me, it must be important. If she intended harm, she would not have given advice before.”
“…Understood.”
Scott reluctantly stepped back.
Aiden turned to Lilia.
“I will follow.”
“Thank you.”
They walked along the high outer walls of the palace.
After some time, they reached a secluded area.
The surroundings were overgrown and abandoned—covered in vines, mold, and wild weeds, as though untouched for years.
“Please wait a moment.”
Lilia disappeared into the brush and soon stopped at a hidden spot.
A faint mechanical sound followed.
A hidden door slowly opened in the ground.
“This way, please.”
“What is that…?”
“A secret passage reserved for the imperial bloodline.”
“…The Emperor does not even know of it?”
“It is a passage only for direct imperial descendants.”
Aiden stared into the darkness.
It was pitch black inside.
A trap?
But strangely, he felt no hostility.
And something told him—if he did not follow now, he would regret it.
“I will go first,” Lilia said.
Without hesitation, she stepped inside.
Aiden followed.
Behind them, an old hinge creaked—and darkness swallowed them completely.
Meanwhile, at the arena
“I am bored.”
The Emperor muttered under her breath.
Her green eyes, once faintly bright during these events, were now dull and shadowed.
“Y-Your Majesty! Today will surely entertain you!”
Count Cornwell hastily stood.
“We have prepared participants with far more aggression than before—far more stimulating acts….”
“Stimulating?”
Mary cut him off lazily.
“Blood splatter at best. What is entertaining about that?”
“Th-That—!”
“Your Majesty,” Evelyn’s voice rang out.
It was unusual. She rarely spoke during events.
“Most of the participants are unfamiliar faces. That may be why the engagement feels lacking.”
“Hmm.”
“That is, no matter who wins, there is no emotional attachment.”
“True. That is a valid point.”
The Emperor nodded.
Among the twenty participants, only a few were recognizable; most were obscure nobles or unknowns.
“Hah! Then next time we shall—!”
“No need for that.”
Evelyn cut in again.
Cornwell shot her a sharp glare, irritated at being interrupted repeatedly.
“Your Majesty is bored. It is because for weeks now, only insignificant people have been used.”
“Most of the former Second Empress faction has already been purged… there are no suitable candidates left….”
“Then bring them from farther away.”
Those were words Cornwell had heard before—from the Hand of the Emperor.
He clenched his fists.
In society, they called him the hunting dog of Wilcock.
Not even the Emperor, but a mere court official.
At first, it had been humiliating.
But he had changed his thinking.
Power lies with Wilcock and Count Edenbaker. If I want success, I must align with Wilcock.
Whatever others called him—so long as he held authority, it did not matter.
And so, Cornwell moved day and night.
