Chapter 271

Above the castle gate, stones, boiling oil, and arrows rained down without end.

Pellena, the Imperial Capital with its long tradition, had gates on all four sides of its outer walls—each with its own long history. Gates that had stopped riots, gates that had stopped rebellions, gates with doorknockers dedicated to a great Emperor… each carried its own story, and all were uniformly sturdy. As the first thing visitors to Pellena saw, it was no exaggeration to say they were the most carefully maintained part of the Imperial Capital’s defenses.

So even if every defender outside the gate was killed or captured, those inside the walls didn’t feel immediately threatened. Even as a fearsome siege tower approached, baring its teeth, they believed they could hold out—while invaders on top of the tower clung to the walls.

Or rather, they had to.

BOOM! The ram inside the siege tower slammed into the massive gate. BOOM! BOOM! The battering ram was well made, but the gate looked far too solid at first glance. BOOM! Yet the soldiers of the Maindulante Army didn’t stop and kept striking the gate. BOOOOM… CREAK!

The soldiers atop the wall, who had been leisurely hurling stones, stiffened. Beneath the impact, there was a clear, sharp cracking sound mixed in.

When the battering ram pulled back once—then lunged forward again like a wolf—everything became clear.

CREAK! …CRACK!

With a shockingly loud roar, the lower part of the Imperial Capital’s south gate gave way. It didn’t break cleanly, but the area where the ram had struck caved in, and the portions that had taken the brunt of the force shattered. Still, it was enough for trained soldiers to push through.

And it wasn’t only the south gate. The west fell next, then the east, and finally the north.

The gates the Imperial Capital prided itself on collapsed one after another with a thunderous roar. Joyce, stationed behind the south gate, heard the sound of victory and smiled in satisfaction.

“As if history could be built without money.”

After Dianne’s ‘disappearance,’ Joyce came to the Imperial Capital and, while pretending to be a hostage, meticulously drew everyone—those who made the most trivial goods and those who produced the most luxurious—into the McKinnon Trading Company. Then he waited for the Imperial Family to re-examine the Imperial Capital’s defenses as the war dragged on.

A ‘slightly’ defective nail, ‘slightly’ defective oil, ‘slightly’ impure steel… tiny discrepancies that wouldn’t affect ordinary function, but would keep the gates from enduring sustained heavy impacts like this.

An Imperial Family member with an Azure Jewel Eye was bound in a magical restraint Joyce had produced, writhing. Joyce flicked a glance at him, hissing, then looked toward the Maindulante Army pouring through the breach.

‘Di.’

I hope this ends quickly, so I can go see you.

Joyce bit back a smile, imagining how his sister would wrinkle her nose at that—saying Joyce was too old to be acting that way.

❖ ❖ ❖

“The Grand Duke is this way!”

Cledwyn knew the route from the west gate to the Imperial Palace well enough, but it was hard to press forward while knights kept appearing from every corner of the alleys. Cledwyn chuckled as he crossed blades with the Azure Jewel Eye knights swarming in, as though they’d been waiting for him.

“You’ve sown a lot of seeds.”

“You monster!”

Just as Cledwyn had guessed by the gate earlier, men who had clearly undergone long professional training were popping up in a systematic pattern.

Cledwyn’s treasured blade, which had just taken the head of a screaming knight, drove into the chest of another who attacked from behind. Blood stained his face and clothes.

“My wife would hate this.”

‘It’s a good thing she can’t see me like this.’

Cledwyn muttered as if humming, then cut down the knight charging at him. The faces of the encircling knights went pale at the sheer unreality of it.

Cledwyn roughly wiped his sword on the fallen knight’s cloak and lazily scanned his surroundings. Two to the west, three to the east, one to the south… Annoying. He was in a hurry.

“Your Highness!”

Before he could finish counting, dozens of cavalry thundered in. The man at their head, clad in armor, shouted with open relief.

“Duke Ganielo?”

Cledwyn lifted his brows. He knew the Ganielo family had remained in the Imperial Capital, but he’d assumed they wouldn’t be able to move freely. Duke Ganielo’s eldest son, Edward, answered—his face still a bit pale, but his expression lively.

“Judging by your direction, you’re headed to the Imperial Palace, aren’t you? Please go quickly! We’ll stop them.”

“Can you handle the Jewel Eyes?”

After clashing blades, it was clear: only the best of the Platinum Knights could truly contend with the Azure Jewel Eye.

Edward replied with confidence.

“We may not compare to Your Highness, but our family has excellent knights as well. We haven’t lost anyone in this war, after all.”

His confidence was convincing. Cledwyn nodded when he saw the blood spattered across the clothes of some knights behind Edward. If they’d forced their way through Camille’s detention, they could hold out well enough.

Cledwyn spurred his horse toward the Imperial Palace once more.

It didn’t take long. He’d chosen the west gate because it was the closest to the Imperial Palace.

He expected more guards there, but to his surprise, it was almost empty. Cledwyn stroked his chin, weighing that desolation—something that didn’t seem achievable with only a few days of siege. Soon, he reached a conclusion.

‘They’ve purged all the troublesome ones.’

The lucky had fled. The unlucky had been caught—or killed. Perhaps they’d swung their swords last night, convinced they would win today. And the Ganielo family had only been detained because they intended to swallow them whole later.

It was a good thing.

Sword in hand, Cledwyn passed through the Imperial Palace’s main gate and followed memory to his destination.

It was a place he’d visited several times because of Camille—the deserted corridor near the Imperial Investigation Unit.

As soon as he drew close, a chilling killing intent brushed his skin. Cledwyn pressed on without hesitation, cutting down those who tried to block him. It was easier than expected, perhaps because the Silver Moon were almost entirely dead.

Creak. When he opened the secret passage, the stench of blood, a pallid light, and a fierce cold wind spilled out. Cledwyn slowed, advancing with caution, guarding his surroundings. Camille still hadn’t appeared, even though he’d come this far. It was starting to feel strange.

Was it really this easy?

Of course, if the intruder hadn’t been Cledwyn, no one would’ve made it this far. Still, he’d expected more thorough preparations. He’d thought what Camille had so confidently prepared for today would be something far more surprising.

Step by step, his feet grew heavier as he neared the chamber holding the Eye of Pheros. Cledwyn frowned as the smell of blood thickened—an odor that could only come from capturing someone and draining them dry.

WHUMMM…

Vibrations pulsed from the room that housed the Eye of Pheros. A dreadful tremor, as if it shook heaven and earth. Cledwyn folded away, without hope, the thought that the Eye of Pheros might be awake again this time. This space was dominated by indiscriminate, dark aggression.

And finally, when he stepped into the chamber—

“Welcome. I knew you’d come here.”

Facing Camille’s bright smile, Cledwyn leveled his sword and quickly took in the room.

A gloomy, murky black light seeped from the magic circle covering the entire floor. The Imperial Family’s insignia on the wall fluttered violently, yet held fast. Between two stone altars lay a blond corpse drenched in blood, sprawled as though it had struggled in agony before dying.

And the altar…

Cledwyn’s heart went cold.

Elandria’s altar—the one that had been empty—was wrapped in a pillar of light.

“What have you done?”

Cledwyn asked carefully. Camille looked like someone who didn’t belong in this room at all: a gold dress reserved for the Imperial direct line, a splendid jeweled crown… and a bright, happy expression.

In all the years he’d known her, Cledwyn had never seen Camille look as happy as she did now. And his question only seemed to add to her delight.

Smiling brightly, Camille asked back, “Didn’t I tell you this morning? I thought you knew everything and still came all the way here.”

Bang.

In the next instant, Camille caught Cledwyn’s blade with her bare hand. Cledwyn bared his teeth at the shock—as if he’d tried to cut a massive diamond instead of a person.

“I thought the ones outside were weaker than expected,” Camille said lightly. “So you gave me all your strength and fed the rest scraps?”

“There’s no need to give too much to trash,” Cledwyn replied. “You give them just enough to make them thirsty, so they’ll follow you obediently.”

“So you can dispose of them whenever they stop being useful?”

“You know me well. Have we been that close?”

Cledwyn wrenched the blade free and swung again. This time Camille simply smiled and didn’t move.

Bang!

The sword failed to cut even a single strand of her hair and rebounded from the recoil.

“Is the power of the Azure Jewel Eye really this strong?”

“To be exact, it’s the power of three Jewel Eyes.” Camille’s smile widened. “The power of Bistor that I inherited, the power of Pheros… and the power of Elandria.”

A strange bluish light washed over her face, corpse-like. She looked straight at Cledwyn and spoke with the leisure of an Emperor.

“Oh, right. Poor you. The things you believed in betrayed you. ‘Nothing happened’… that’s what they told you, isn’t it? It’s a shame—I even kindly told you the truth. But you’ve come all the way here, so what will you do now?”

Her eyes curved.

“No matter how hard you try, you can’t kill me. And I can kill you. Once you’re gone, the rest is nothing. Even if this Imperial Palace collapses, the last one standing will be me—and the one who regains glory will be me.”

Bang! Crash! Bang!

Cledwyn swung again and again by the time Camille finished speaking, but he couldn’t move as nimbly as before.

He had to kill Camille. And he had to save Nerys. If he freed the Eye of Pheros as he’d promised her, she would return too—because she wasn’t dead. If he woke the dragon…

He understood it rationally, yet he still couldn’t breathe.

Camille smiled, delighted by the sight.

“Your clan is truly fascinating. Is it because you inherited the blood of the elf clan, with one foot in the mental realm…? While I was imprisoned, I looked into the Grand Dukes of Maindulante throughout history. If you don’t define the meaning of life from the start, you live a long time. But once you define it, you don’t last long after that meaning disappears.”

No. It hadn’t disappeared. He just had to break that damned Seal.

Cledwyn swung with all his strength again. Camille caught the blade without effort.

“It’s useless. Even if a mountain collapsed on me right now, I wouldn’t be hurt. Still, you’ve cut away all the rot in this country for me, so I’ll at least say thank you.”

She spoke cheerfully, her eyes curving with something wicked.

“Once I kill you here and cut off the descendants of that annoying Pheros, I can rebuild the rest one piece at a time. There has to be a way for me to handle the power of the three Jewel Eyes, right? Then… I’ll live forever, never be harmed, and become an eternal ruler—receiving the pure support of all the people.”

“Then the others are all fools, and they’ll just watch that happen?”

Cledwyn tightened his grip on his sword and forced himself into calm.

White Swan Castle was safe. Hilbrin wouldn’t allow any harm to come to Nerys before his own neck was taken—nor would the others.

Then… he could guess what kind of sly thoughts his wife was harboring.

‘Is that why you told me to come straight to the secret chamber?’

Because it would take time for the curse to finish, and she wanted him to strike the gap she’d created—by throwing herself into it?

He was going to protest to his wife. In every way possible. Including requests for things he’d wanted to try in the past that she’d refused, if he could.

But that would only be after he returned safely.

Gritting his teeth, the man—furious at his wife—declared, “You must think I can’t open the beast’s mouth, but let’s see what happens. Just because I’m the gatekeeper of hell doesn’t mean I can’t open my mouth.”