Chapter 236

“Prince Gale, have you finished your meal?”

Philia muttered in frustration. The royal chef had painstakingly prepared the meal from dawn, yet the prince refused it without even lifting a finger.

It seemed he hadn’t even touched the knife or fork. The doctor would surely throw a fit, unable to administer the medicine.

“Yes.”

Whether aware of the anxious atmosphere or not, Gale lay back on the bed, puffing on a cigarette. Each exhale sent a long wisp of white smoke drifting through the room.

Since Philia entered, his gaze hadn’t once left her. She knew this well and tried to ignore it, but…

“…No, I can’t.”

Unable to hold out any longer against his persistence, Philia finally gave in. When she said this outright, Gale shrugged with a sly grin.

“What can’t you do? I haven’t said a word.”

“You’re asking me to accompany you to the magic power verification ceremony. I can’t. I have no authority. Until Ian gives permission, I can’t help. I’m sorry.”

“Philia. Do you think your son ranks above the prince? Impressive. No wonder you’re so precious you can’t even look me in the eye.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

Philia stammered awkwardly, but Gale let out a low chuckle. Could this woman, who couldn’t even take a joke, really be Ian’s mother? If not for their striking resemblance, he wouldn’t have believed it.

At that moment, footsteps sounded and Nersarn appeared.

“Philia.”

“Lord Nersarn.”

It was a signal to wrap things up and leave. Philia set down the dish and glanced at Gale, who seemed to acknowledge it was time. He was lighting a fresh cigarette.

“Hey, desert warrior.”

“…Yes, Prince Gale.”

It was rare for Gale to address Nersarn directly. Their statuses—emperor of the empire and leader of a frontier minority tribe—were worlds apart. Besides, Philia usually acted as the intermediary.

“I heard Ian called my half-brother a monster.”

“That’s right.”

“And declared that one of them would die today.”

Philia felt her heart drop. Those words were terrifying. She still couldn’t believe Ian was risking his life to kill someone.

She wondered if the palace was always like this, but then felt pity—there must be something so precious to risk one’s life for. Just as she cared for Ian, Ian must care deeply for something too.

“That’s true as well.”

“Arsen is my half-brother. If Ian doesn’t die, Arsen will. Don’t I have the right to witness the end of my own family?”

Nersarn hesitated, unsure how to respond. The palace’s political landscape shifted daily. There had to be a reason Gale was acting this way, but no one knew what it was. They were holed up in the secondary palace under the pretext of protecting Gale, and to avoid complications if the empire’s citizens found out. Without Ian’s word, information was limited.

“I’m sorry.”

The answer was clear: refusal.

As Nersarn and Philia prepared to leave the bedroom, the sound of a drawer opening echoed. Gale straightened up, waving his hand as if searching for something.

Clatter!

“I understand you’re doing this for your son’s safety.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“This palace is as unfathomable as the frontier. I understand why you drew the line and said no.”

“…”

“Not just Arsen, I have business with Ian too.”

“Then please tell me. I will relay every word without omission.”

“Hmm. That’s not possible. Do you know what this is?”

Between the prince’s index and middle fingers were small, crumpled notes, stained with food.

Nersarn looked at Philia, who shook her head in confusion.

“These are traces of traitors Ian weeded out by using my name.”

As rumors spread that he would defect to Luswena, the response was immediate. Notes slipped into every meal, and messengers knocked on windows at all hours.

“Some revealed their names, others didn’t. But with handwriting analysis or an investigation by the magic department, their identities can be uncovered.”

Gale deliberately burned one of the notes with his cigarette. The paper flared up instantly, turning to ash and crumbling away. His smile was like a child playing with fire.

“If you don’t take me with you, I’ll burn them all.”

“Your Highness, this is truly problematic!”

“Philia, don’t worry. Ian will be the one in the worst trouble—he has to trust someone who doesn’t even realize they’re holding a knife behind his back.”

It was a threat made for his son’s sake. Even if Ian returned alive from the magic power verification, what good would it do if traitors lurked nearby? Another crisis would come soon enough.

Ping!

Gale flicked a jewel toward Philia. She didn’t react in time, but Nersarn caught it midair.

“If you want, I’ll give you jewels too. Even trapped here, I’m still a prince of the empire. I can provide as much wealth as you want. Desert warrior, you’re the leader of your tribe, right? You must know well how a prosperous treasury brings a warm spring.”

“I don’t need such things. I only want my son—”

“Hahaha! Your face is red.”

“I want what my son wants.”

“Good. This is what your son wants.”

A scrap of paper fluttered from Gale’s fingertips.

Thought—the pure sanctuary granted by the gods to humans. To root out traitors was to invade that sanctuary, to pry into the hearts of allies, not enemies. It was a difficult, exhausting, and delicate task.

“Why would Ian do this? The magic department knows how to neutralize the truth serum. I’ve benefited from that. So if it’s not this note, it’ll be a tough fight.”

Nersarn sighed inwardly. The notes were one thing, but Gale didn’t seem likely to give up just because they turned back now. What if he caused trouble once out of their sight?

“Just tell me one truth.”

“Gladly.”

“How do you plan to go?”

“…”

It was almost an acceptance. Gale adjusted his clothes, donned his jacket, and tucked the bundle of notes into an inner pocket. He checked his cigarette pack one last time, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“To me, now is the perfect time. I think the gods would agree.”

---

Their schedule was delayed slightly by Gale’s presence. They switched to a larger carriage, brought warriors along just in case, and dressed them in imperial attire.

Gale realized it had been a long time since he’d been out. Though the battlefield scars of him and Marib remained, the palace’s familiar image was unmistakable.

The carriage jolted, but Gale’s gaze was steady. He watched the shimmering ivory walls, golden patterns, and neatly laid red bricks with rapt attention.

Ah, the palace was so beautiful. Gale bit his lip, forcing himself to erase the memories that surfaced. Memories often bred regret.

“We’re almost there, Lord Nersarn.”

“Hmm? But look at all those people over there…”

“Wait a moment. We’ll have to stop here. The crowd is blocking the carriage from entering.”

In front of the magic department, a throng had gathered, creating chaos among the carriage, guards, and disheveled nobles and officials.

Despite the confusion, everyone’s gaze was fixed on one spot. Philia naturally followed their eyes.

“What… what is that?”

A sinister black aura descended the stairs of the magic department, drawing a clear boundary as if warning others to stay away.

Philia stepped down from the carriage, her face grim as she surveyed the scene.

“Lord Ian! Lord Ian! Let go of that! I said let go!”

“Romandro!”

“Let go! My mother and Ian are inside!”

“No! Your Highness, please!”

Not far off, Jin struggled against the guards, kicking and shouting to be released, but no one relented. Jin was the last heir remaining.

Philia grabbed Romandro’s arm, shouting, “What’s going on, Lord Romandro?”

“Lady Philia! Well, you see…”

“Philia! Ian is inside. Arsen intends to kill him. Why is everyone just standing by?”

“Your Highness, please calm down.”

Several soldiers who tried to approach the building lay sprawled on the ground. Approaching caused unbearable headaches and dizziness—there was no solution.

The magic department was devising a plan, but all the commanders were inside. It was a truly difficult situation.

“Jin.”

At that moment, Gale pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. At his low call, Jin hesitated and turned.

Why was Brother Gale here?

“Enough noise.”

“W-What is it?”

“Is Arsen really a monster?”

“…Brother.”

“I see. So that’s how it is.”

Gale stared into the air for a moment. The fate of a child born alongside a monster was truly tragic. He took a deep breath and, without hesitation, stepped into the poisonous aura.

“Prince Gale!”

“Why is Your Highness here?”

“He’s entering the poisonous aura!”

“My goodness, what on earth is going on…?”

My breath felt a little tight, but I wasn’t dizzy or weak. Gale glanced back briefly as he climbed the stairs. Then, tossing the note he’d been holding into Philia’s hands, he said his farewell.

“Philia, thank you for sharing your meals with me all this time.”

“Your Highness?”

“Give this to Ian when you see him.”

“Your Highness!”

Without waiting for a reply, Gale dashed up the stairs. Here and there, those who hadn’t managed to escape lay collapsed. The space was eerily silent. Gale clenched his cigarette tightly between his teeth and walked on slowly.

—Cursed one, you cannot defy fate. For Bariel’s sake, take your own life. Only then will glory shine upon this world.

Since the day he saw that prophecy, he had been waiting for this moment. He was Bariel’s prince. Rather than fading away like Marib, becoming nothing but wind, it was better to meet death beneath the glory of the world.

Even if history forgot him, glory would remain.

“Come on, try stabbing me! If you kill me, you’ll die too. And if you die, Jin won’t last long either!”

…Is that Arsen’s voice? It sounded truly vile. Gale followed the sound of footsteps and pushed open the door leading into the main hall.

Creak.

Thud.

“A party this lively in broad daylight? Mind if I join?”

The hall was bathed in a mysterious light. For a moment, Gale felt as if he’d stepped into heaven.

Ian, who had raised his sword into the air, turned his body around. Before him, the heart that had been taunting him now burst with poison.

“What is this?”

“Do you remember the new prophecy that came down?”

“…”

The cigarette snapped. This would be the last smoke he exhaled.

“It might not be Your Highness’s prophecy.”

“Doesn’t matter. If I say it is, then it is.”

Gale picked up the sword lying on the floor and slowly approached Ian.

“If I die here, I will leave behind glory.”

And if he didn’t?

“If I don’t die, then having personally dealt with the monsters haunting the palace—that too is glory.”

The veins pulsing in the struggling heart stood out vividly. Calmly, Gale aimed the sword’s tip at it. Ian lightly grasped his arm.

“…No one will ever know.”

Could anyone record the fact that monsters had infested the palace? Absolutely not. Without a trace, everything would be wiped away. The blasphemous ten years past would vanish into the light, leaving no shadow behind.

So even if Gale sacrificed himself in death, who would know?

“No. The gods will know.”

Gale smiled and pressed the sword against Arsen’s heart. He gestured to Ian to unleash his magic and muttered,

“And you know it too.”