Chapter 227
“Ugh! Are you kidding me right now?”
Romandro, having stamped the accusation and returned, waved his hand dismissively with a laugh. It was as if he’d just heard the most outrageous joke. Honestly, the very phrase sounded insane. A prince… a monster? Worse, a demon?
“Hahaha! Oh man, seriously. Don’t say things like that out loud. You’ll get arrested for treason! Even if you’re a minister, they won’t go easy on you. Come on, just let me clock out already. It’s nighttime and my shoulders and knees are aching all over. Captain Hale’s already been sent off; I just need to finish this one last thing!”
Ta-da! Romandro’s eyes sparkled as he thrust the final report forward. But Ian didn’t look like he was going to approve it. He simply sipped his tea calmly, smiling faintly. Romandro’s smile slowly faded.
“…No way. Surely not. Oh my god, that can’t be.”
“Arsen is indeed a monster,” Ian said.
Romandro instinctively covered his mouth with both hands. He felt a stiffness creeping up his neck from the shock. He even glanced around nervously, as if someone might overhear. But it was just the two of them in the office.
“The evidence is conclusive. The demon that Roberside supposedly dealt with last was named Arsen. It seems he’s taken that name as his own.”
Ian explained everything that had happened to Romandro—from the strange prophecy to Delaina’s visit—in detail. The more Ian spoke, the wider Romandro’s mouth dropped, eventually opening enough to fit a fist.
“If that’s true… if it really is, we can’t just sit here! We need to act immediately and cut its head off. A demon? Sneaking into Bariel to bring about its downfall!”
Romandro nervously bit his lip, nearly losing his composure. This was madness—such a bad omen for the great empire of Bariel! But while Romandro was flustered, Ian calmly replaced his pen nib.
“Of course, we will. But not right now. Arsen’s influence in the palace is at its peak. We can’t just remove him based on circumstantial evidence.”
The dream Roberside had? The priest’s memory from ten years ago? The vague claim that the god’s voice was different? None of these were things they could see with their own eyes. It was far from enough to bring Arsen down.
“So, what do we do then?”
It wasn’t just about leaving work. Romandro pulled a chair over and sat beside Ian, peering at the documents he was reviewing—files on the temple, prophecies, and monsters kept in the palace archives.
“I have a plan, but I need to verify if it’s feasible.”
“You’re going to read all this by yourself?”
“If I had the time, maybe. But unfortunately, I don’t. Delaina’s attendants left the palace with the mages. They should arrive here by tomorrow, or at the latest, the day after.”
Ian smiled and handed the papers to Romandro, inviting him to look through them together. Since there were traitors within the magic department, he couldn’t just ask for help openly.
“Understood. What should I focus on?”
“From here to here. Just sift through anything that might be connected to Arsen and pass it along.”
Romandro pressed his eyes shut and nodded. Missing a day’s sleep wouldn’t kill him. For Bariel’s sake, it was a sacrifice worth making. His eyes grew a little moist, but without complaint, he sat beside Ian and began flipping through the pages.
Rustle.
“Ian, listen to this. Doesn’t this apply to Prince Arsen as well?”
—If a monster undergoes physical growth, both innate abilities and acquired skills can develop accordingly.
Ian took the paper from Romandro. If this was true, then now was the perfect time. It made sense to nip it in the bud before it grew stronger. Ian was about to put the paper down when the phrase “acquired skills” caught his attention.
“Come to think of it…”
“Come to think of it? What is it?”
“At the New Year’s banquet, Arsen was fascinated by my magic orb. He even touched it. It might have been an act, but according to His Highness Jin, Arsen couldn’t hide his excitement even after returning to his quarters.”
Could it be that Arsen touched the mage’s power, memorized it, and tried to imitate it? Ian tapped the paper lightly with his fingertip. Bit by bit, the stage for Arsen was taking shape.
“…Romandro?”
“Don’t call me that. Every time you do, I get a little scared.”
“The rumors about using Prince Gale—we should push that angle harder. If Arsen’s true nature becomes known, it will disrupt the political balance I predicted. Especially how the Hyman faction will react is uncertain. So, if possible, it’s better to expose him before that happens.”
“It won’t be easy, but I’ll try.”
“Good.”
They returned their focus to the documents. As the night deepened, Romandro clenched his teeth to fight off sleep. One of the princes was a demon—one who had come to devour Bariel! There was no way he could afford to fall asleep. Honestly, it still didn’t quite feel real, but since Ian said it was true, he was trying to accept it. Ian’s decisions had never been wrong before.
Knock, knock.
“Viviana here. I brought fresh tea in case the last pot went cold.”
“Please, have some.”
But Romandro had already stayed up all night yesterday. Just as his head began to nod involuntarily, a sound came from outside. Startled, he jolted upright.
Creak.
Viviana peeked in, tray in hand, worry etched on her face. Beside her, Jin stood close, watching with her. Ian lowered his pen in surprise. It was the middle of the night—had they not gone to sleep yet?
“Your Highness?”
“She stayed nearby, worried about disturbing you. It seems you can’t sleep. You should drink this—it’s good for rest… Romandro! What’s wrong with your face?”
“Viv! Ugh, I got into a fight with the judiciary today.”
“Oh my goodness.”
Seizing the moment, Romandro dashed into Viviana’s arms, seeking the comfort only a lover’s embrace could provide. While they clung to each other, Jin hesitated, glancing at Ian.
“Sir Ian.”
Ian studied the boy’s condition. His eyes were red-rimmed, his complexion poor. When Ian glanced at Xiaosi, the boy lowered his gaze and shook his head—he simply couldn’t sleep.
“It’s very late, Your Highness.”
“Well… it’s just…”
“Come here.”
Ian moved to the sofa and patted the seat beside him. The shock of having twin brothers who were monsters—demons, no less—must be weighing heavily on him. Especially since they looked so much alike.
Jin hurried over and sat beside Ian. His once neat fingertips were all bitten raw. It was clear how anxious he was.
“What troubles you so deeply, Your Highness?”
“I… I just can’t understand.”
“Why of all things, must the demon be your twin brother?”
Viviana, who had been comforting Romandro, froze. What on earth were they talking about? Like Viviana, Xiaosi took a step back, sensing this wasn’t a conversation for him.
“That’s enough. It’s still a secret for now, but soon it will be revealed: Prince Arsen is a monster.”
“…Excuse me? Did I hear that right?”
“Viv, I know it’s shocking. Me too. I’ll explain everything.”
Romandro moved toward the window with Viviana to avoid interrupting their conversation. Every time Romandro whispered something, Viviana shuddered in horror. Xiaosi, taking her place, poured water into the teacups.
Splash.
The fragrant floral tea filled the room. Jin cupped the tea with both hands and took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Your Highness, the reason the demon had to appear as your twin is very clear.”
“Because I carry the bloodline of Carbo?”
If that were the case, what difference was there from cursed blood? Jin’s voice trembled, but Ian smiled gently and shook his head.
“Not Marib, not Gale—it’s because you are the future emperor.”
Jin paused mid-sip, surprised by the unexpected answer.
“Just as the gods act, the demon must have calculated the perfect place and time. Rather than the princes who would fade into history, it made sense for the demon to stay close to you, the future emperor, to achieve its wicked goals.”
So all the hardships you’ve endured are proof that your future will shine brilliantly.
The pain, the injustice, the moments you wanted to give up—all of it was a signpost pointing to a predetermined future. Ian patted Jin’s shoulder and whispered softly.
“So don’t be too upset. Your fate is tied to Bariel’s. The demon has infiltrated because it judged you to be very close to that destiny.”
Jin bit his lip, trying to hold back tears, his face scrunched in frustration. But how could he stop the flood of emotions? When the tears finally spilled, Ian laughed warmly and wiped them away.
“Don’t cry, Your Highness.”
“…I’m not crying.”
“Would you like me to read you a book? I borrowed The Roberside Chronicles—you probably didn’t have much to read. Sorry about that. Let’s get you to bed.”
Jin nodded briefly at Ian’s suggestion. But did Arsen know he was a demon? If he had awakened to it himself, what about their mother? What could she possibly do?
“I need to ask Roberside about this,” Ian thought to himself.
If I fall asleep after reading a fairy tale, Lord Roberside will surely come to see me. I must ask him how to save my mother. Jin returned to her bedroom with that resolve. Under the soft glow of the lamp, Ian’s blond hair shimmered warmly.
“Once upon a time…”
His voice, reading by the bedside, was unusually gentle. Before the story had even progressed a few pages, the child had unknowingly drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, at that very moment—
“Oh divine one, who weaves fate and breathes life into the world. Here stands a fragile believer, seeking your wisdom and guidance. Please, if you hear my faint plea, I beg you, soothe my soul. I am, I am…”
Abidiel pressed her head into the corner, repeatedly calling out to the gods. Behind her, Makael watched anxiously.
Following Ian’s suggestion, they had been given the use of the magic department’s reception room. They wouldn’t be allowed to leave until the light of the oracle descended from the stone mountain—or at least until another priest who had received the oracle arrived.
“Abidiel.”
“Please, please…”
Tears streamed down beneath her veil. Part of her rejected Ian’s theory outright, yet another part had to admit it held a troubling possibility.
Could it be that what she had heard that day wasn’t truly an oracle? She had lived ten years with the honor of carrying the divine will in her heart. But if it was the voice of a demon instead? What was she to do?
“Makael, I—”
She curled up on the floor, overwhelmed with disgust. She felt tainted, reviled herself for having worshiped the voice of a demon as if it were divine.
Makael gently patted her back, trying to comfort her.
“It’s not certain yet. Stay calm. Let’s wait until everyone arrives, then discuss what to do.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say it wasn’t her fault, or to tell her not to worry. No matter her position, the responsibility remained. She muttered, unable to lift her damp veil.
“Why didn’t the gods tell me?”
“Abidiel, please calm down.”
“That voice was wrong, the voice of a vile being! If they had any pity for me, they would have warned me! So why? Why?”
A creak.
A presence approached behind her anguished cries. It was Ian, returning after reading to Jin. The night was so quiet that her prayers echoed sharply down the corridor.
“Didn’t they tell you—through me—today?”
“Ten years. It’s been far too long.”
“Ten years is long from a human perspective. But to a god who governs eternity, it is not. They chose the most fitting moment within the endless flow of time. That moment is now. Believe that.”
Makael paused while wiping Abidiel’s tears. Ian had flung the door wide open, letting a rush of cold air spill inside.
“…Would you come with me to the office to seek the truth?”
About the ancient demon, about Roberside, about the temple, about the oracle—anything. Even a refutation that Arsen was not a demon would be welcome. Whatever it was, knowledge would become wisdom.
“The tragedy that began at the Karbo Temple.”
Time was running short. If Arsen passed the magic verification safely and gained absolute support, there would be no greater obstacle.
“It’s not too late. There’s still a chance to stop Arsen. If we manage to contain this, it means we’ve taken responsibility. If we can refute it, we’re free of blame. For now, this seems more effective than prayer.”
With a soft flick, Ian shook the fairy tale book lightly and nodded.
Abidiel and Makael suddenly felt it might be a divine answer. A silent command to go, to help Ian, and to save Bariel.