#003

The journey began early the next day. After leaving the mountains, Cullen rode in a prepared carriage. He had tried to ride a horse, but the knights seemed quite troubled, so instead of stubbornly insisting, he accepted the suggestion. Cullen disliked wasting time.

The carriage began its journey along the unpaved mountain path towards the capital. The capital of the Larciel Empire was located slightly north of the continent’s center, and its scale was equivalent to two duchies combined.

The knights moved without rest. When the horses grew tired, they would replace them, covering in six days a distance that would normally take over fifteen days by carriage.

During that time, Cullen learned a few things. For example…

“Are you truly saying you know nothing about the Imperial family, Lord Cullen?”

Lasano was far more talkative than he had anticipated. Cullen found himself wishing he could behead him with little effect.

“Is there any reason I should know?”

“Because you were a subject of the Empire, Lord Cullen.”

“The Empire does not feed me.”

“A bold statement.”

Despite his garrulous nature, Lasano did not provide useful information. Usually, talkative people would naturally reveal what was necessary, but this handsome priest skillfully avoided such topics.

Thus, in the six long days, Cullen learned only two things.

First, the prophecy was delivered to Lasano and the other High Priests a month ago. It was the first message in thirty years. Goddess prophecies are usually delivered only when a new High Priest is born or when a great famine strikes the continent.

Therefore, the prophecy concerning Cullen was of a type that had never existed before. The content was simple.

Find another Larkan in Mount Tesnia.

It was a prophecy that turned the Imperial Palace upside down.

The Larciel Empire had always been ruled by those who inherited the Larkan bloodline. There was even a divine arrangement to control the bloodline blessed by the Dragon, preventing it from dispersing. The Empress of Larciel bore only two children, and there had never been an exception in history.

Regardless of gender, the successor was determined by the law of primogeniture, and the younger bloodlines were subjected to a spell of infertility upon reaching adulthood. That spell was performed at the Aksha Temple. Because the infertility was due to the spell, it could be lifted by a High Priest in the unlikely event that the eldest son died, but such an event had never occurred.

This connects to the second fact Cullen learned: Princess Kashyella, presumed to be Cullen’s mother, died in a landslide on her way to the Aksha Temple upon reaching adulthood.

After days of searching, she was not found, and the Emperor accepted the reality. After the state funeral, the Princess was forgotten by everyone.

Lasano would not answer anything beyond that. He merely repeated like a parrot that it was a matter of the Imperial Palace and that he knew nothing.

“I do not need to know the specifics of the Imperial family. Even if I were royalty, I would never become Emperor. It is not a realistic possibility.”

It was true. He knew nothing of politics, economics, or even basic etiquette. Cullen was a grown man of 29, so the idea of preparing to become Emperor now was not even a funny joke.

Who would give the throne to a mercenary who had lived his entire life as a commoner?

Above all, Cullen himself had no desire to do so. His only goal was information about his mother.

“That is something I do not know, Lord Cullen.”

Lasano rubbed his staff with a meaningful smile. His deep, ruby-like eyes were impossible to read. He was the most unsettling kind of person.

“Because the goddess leads us in directions we cannot even imagine.”

Just then, the carriage stopped. The horses whinnied loudly, and the clatter of clashing armor spread coldly.

Cullen bowed his upper body, quietly placing his hand on his waist. As he was about to scan the outside out of habit, the carriage door opened. His fingers twitched to grip the concealed dagger, and at the same moment, Lasano stood up. His black robe fluttered.

“We have arrived.”

Lasano, bending his tall frame, extended his hand. Instead of taking it, Cullen quietly gazed at the scenery outside the carriage.

There were many people. Nobles, dressed in clothes far more splendid than the wealthy merchants Cullen had guarded, were all looking in one direction. Dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on him. The colors of their irises varied, but the emotion contained within them was the same.

Meeting eyes that clearly showed hostility, Cullen rubbed his dagger once.

Indeed, it was as expected.

“I hope your journey was peaceful.”

The first person to speak to Cullen was a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed white beard. He wore a feather-shaped white collar around his neck and a blue cloak embroidered with gold thread, seeming to represent everyone standing behind him.

He introduced himself as Duke Renon. Whether he had been tipped off by the knights beforehand, he knew Cullen’s name.

“Yes.”

Cullen replied perfunctorily. Many people followed him at a distance, trailing behind the Duke. Murmurs scattered like fine dust at their feet. They were talking about Cullen’s attire.

On Lasano’s advice, Cullen wore a clean, mud-free uniform, but to the nobles’ eyes, it seemed like an utterly shocking outfit. Words like vulgar and dreadful kept reaching his ears. It seemed they had lived lives with few surprising events.

“Please forgive any shortcomings in our welcome. As the situation has not yet been ‘confirmed,’ our preparations were lacking in many ways.”

“I do not mind.”

As if his hearing was on par with a skilled knight’s, someone behind him whispered that he was rude. Since it was true, the remark did not affect Cullen in the slightest.

“Lord Cullen, you are a person of few words. You are quite different from the Crown Prince.”

Duke Renon rubbed his beard and smiled good-naturedly. Cullen knew nothing of the speech or customs of noble beings, but he was certain that the Duke did not think he was Larkan.

He addressed Cullen by name and explicitly mentioned that a successor to the Emperor already existed.

“Is that so?”

That was all Cullen said. Leaving behind the whispers that he couldn’t possibly be Larkan and the grumbles about his lack of spirit, Cullen walked down a tall, long corridor.

The corridor, lined with all sorts of flowers and trees, was like an entrance hall composed solely of white pillars, a ceiling, and a marble floor. After walking for ten minutes to its end, he finally stood before a massive door.

“The Emperor wishes to see you first. Please, at least, show minimal courtesy from now on.”

A faint smirk flickered across Duke Renon’s face. Cullen looked at the man’s gray hair and blue eyes and replied,

“I do not know if that will be possible, as I have not been taught. I will try.”

The clearly sarcastic tone finally made someone explode. A blond man from the crowd rushed forward and shouted. He seemed to have just entered middle age.

“Enough of that! He is a Duke. Duke, it seems this fellow is not of noble blood…!”

Cullen wished he could escape from here. He felt like he might commit murder of a noble on the spot.

However, he had to endure until he could confirm the facts. If, by any chance, his mother was truly royalty, he had to find out why she suffered such a fate and who was involved in her death here.

He had wandered his entire life searching for the culprit. He could endure any suffering.

“It is alright, Count Linden. The Emperor is unwell, so it would be best to lower your voice.”

Duke Renon waved his hand. With a face less amused than before, he gazed at Cullen for a moment, then turned away as if ignoring him.

Walking to the center of the door, he placed his palm against it. White light seeped from the slightly parted gap, and the door slowly began to open. The Duke stepped back two paces.

“From now on, you must go alone.”

Cullen was genuinely curious. Was the security of the Imperial Palace, the heart of the Empire, this lax?

“What if I were an assassin?”

The sacrilegious remark caused an uproar from all sides. Everyone, from the nobles to the knights escorting them, was aghast. The man called Count Linden, his face flushed, bellowed,

“He must be insane!”

Following him, a woman with red hair also cried out.

“Duke, this man is clearly a traitor. He must be imprisoned!”

Ignoring the surrounding chaos, Cullen waited for the Duke’s answer. The Duke looked at him with a solemn face and said,

“The Emperor’s chambers can only be entered by those to whom Magic has no effect. In this world, only royalty possess such blood. Therefore, if you pass through here, you will have proven yourself.”

It seemed they did not fully trust Lasano. Even after hearing about the crisis he had narrowly escaped, they might have wanted to confirm it with their own eyes.

The Duke added with a cold expression,

“However, if the opposite is true, then you will be held responsible for your blasphemous words with your life.”

Cullen still had several questions. For instance, what if a relative of the same blood tried to poison or assassinate him? On what grounds could they be so defenseless?

But he knew that if he asked one more question, someone would surely cause a scene again, so Cullen chose action over words.

The white light shimmered like a transparent barrier. Beyond it, a soft crimson hue filled the dark interior.

Silence fell all around. Even the clamoring crowd held their breath, watching Cullen’s next step. He took a step forward.

His boots passed through the barrier without obstruction, as if it were not there.

A different kind of stillness settled than moments before. Cullen took the rest of his steps and slowly entered. Then, he looked back.

The first thing he saw was Duke Renon’s face, frozen in a cold expression. For the first time, Cullen dropped his impassive facade, twisted his lips, and said with great affection,

“I sincerely hope you do not forget your words about my life just now.”

Duke Renon’s face contorted pleasingly.