In a space filled only with darkness, a burst of violet mana exploded forth, and at the same moment, the figure of Imperial Count Lucif Blaine was revealed.
As if timed to his appearance, dozens of magical lamps installed along the left and right walls illuminated the long corridor.
“Count Blaine. You’re late.”
The man in the gray mask standing at the end of the corridor slowly turned toward Imperial Count Lucif Blaine.
“An unexpected variable was observed, so I had to recalculate everything and ended up a little late. My apologies. But rest assured. The longer the delay, the more thorough the work will be.”
Count Blaine spoke with ease, but the man in the gray mask expressed his displeasure by tapping the hard stone floor with the staff in his left hand.
Tap, tap.
“I heard the assassination failed. I also heard you even used the trump card you had been saving, yet the result is truly deplorable.”
“There was no helping it. There were too many variables.”
“You know how much hatred and sacrifice is required to ‘create’ a single shadow assassin, don’t you? This mission was never allowed to fail.”
The man in the gray mask revealed a sticky killing intent.
Yet Imperial Count Lucif Blaine did not lose his composure.
“It did not succeed, but it cannot be called a complete failure either.”
“Your tongue is still alive till the end. Count Blaine. Didn’t you say we could kill you anytime if we judged you useless?”
The killing intent grew thicker.
“Precisely, that is why you must not kill me. I still have much use. And although this mission did not succeed, it cannot be called a complete failure. In the end, we failed to prevent Kain Felberg from ascending to the throne, but we obtained a great deal of information in the grand plaza.”
At the eloquent words, the man in the gray mask fell silent, and Count Blaine continued his explanation.
“The wastrel who ascended to the throne, Kain Felberg, used the power of a Star Throne that had never once appeared in the imperial family for hundreds of years, and it was a different kind from the Sigil that appeared at Canossa Fortress. This is certain information. The aura of the Sigil observed near Canossa Fortress and the one confirmed in the grand plaza on coronation day differed not only in mana composition but also in the type of Authority.”
“Then Kain Felberg can use at least two or more Sigils?”
The man in the gray mask asked in a stiff voice.
Naturally, the atmosphere grew grave.
“Regrettably, it is true. The new emperor who rose from being a wastrel possesses at least two or more Sigils. As I said, ‘at least’ two.”
“This is bad. Is the information that the Sigils are of different types trustworthy?”
The masked man asked again.
His tone clearly showed he did not want to believe that the wastrel had awakened two Sigils.
No matter how much the Felberg imperial family inherited the blood of the Star Thrones, as recorded in history, even among the noble imperial bloodline, those who awakened a Sigil were rare.
And what disturbed them further was that, in the extremely rare cases where an imperial family member awakened two or more Sigils… without exception, those blessed individuals achieved enormous feats and engraved their names as heroes in the history of the empire.
That was why the masked man sincerely hoped Count Blaine had made a mistake.
Yet Count Blaine affirmed it as though there could be no disagreement on that point.
“I personally analyzed the mana samples. It may sound arrogant, but you know there is no one in the organization who has studied Sigils more than I have. There is no way the analysis is wrong.”
It was an undeniable fact.
At Count Lucif Blaine’s confident words, the man in the gray mask pulled over an iron chair beside him and sat down.
“Damn it! Has he been acting the wastrel all this time?”
For the sake of the grand plan, those who possessed the power of the Star Thrones had to be exterminated.
Thus, on Founding Day, they trampled the budding sprouts of new heroes rising within the Felberg Empire and slaughtered the emperor and the imperial family.
None of them had awakened a Sigil, but it was a massive investment to erase even the potential hidden in their bloodline.
They had not sent a shadow assassin to the Third Prince Kain because they judged that a wastrel third prince exiled to Canossa Fortress could be killed anytime.
It was difficult to accurately gauge how powerful the Meister-class forces gathered on Founding Day would be, so there had been some over-investment, but…
Even if, by some one-in-a-million chance, a wastrel like Kain survived, no one doubted it would not interfere with the grand plan.
Yet, rather than the imperial bloodlines they had slaughtered at the grand banquet, the Third Prince Kain—whom they had ignored—had awakened two Sigils.
It was a coincidence too coincidental to be mere coincidence.
The man in the gray mask first dismissed from his mind the absurd interpretation that all of this was mere chance.
“How much of it was acting and planned?”
Kain Felberg.
The Third Prince who preserved his life by acting the wastrel and avoiding the Founding Day catastrophe.
And after avoiding the catastrophe, as if he had been waiting, he revealed the hidden power of his Sigils and induced the loyalist nobles to rally.
And in the process, he brought back the great mage who had been forgotten for a hundred years.
Could the unfolding of all these variables truly be a coincidence?
It was impossible.
“It seems this is a problem I cannot resolve on my own.”
The masked man concluded that he would have to ask those above him, and toward him, Count Blaine took one step closer and spoke.
“Do not worry. There are still many people planted by the Empire’s Five Pillars in Granada, the capital of the Felberg Empire. I will gather various pieces of information about the new emperor.”
Count Blaine had already planted countless eyes and ears in the capital Granada through the Empire’s Five Pillars years ago while preparing the grand plan.
Now was the time to use them.
One of the representative spies in contact with Count Blaine, Baron Hog Melros, second-class chamberlain of the Ministry of the Interior, sprang into action.
But they could not have known.
Unfortunately for them, Kain had a means to precisely distinguish traitors.
The rumor that the former wastrel Third Prince Kain Felberg had awakened a Sigil—to save innocent citizens from Meister-class assassins who came to the coronation!—spread quickly.
Only a week had passed since Third Prince Kain Felberg ascended to the throne.
Already, the prestige of the new emperor was spreading throughout the entire Felberg Empire.
At that news, neutral nobles who had not attended the coronation began taking serious steps one by one to return to the imperial loyalist faction.
The quickest neutral nobles had already placed their names at the top of the new emperor’s audience list.
Those who had to prove their loyalty late could hardly expect to be one step ahead of others.
Meanwhile, because the neutral nobles had not properly maintained regular exchanges with the imperial family for many years, most of their unofficial channels of contact were now severed.
In the end, they had no choice but to go through the slow and cumbersome official procedures.
Yet while they were burning with anxiety over how difficult it was to gain an audience with the emperor…
Kain, now seated on the throne, considered this rather fortunate and was sweating profusely.
He was truly digesting a schedule so busy there was no time to rest.
Even the existing loyalist nobles could not currently have a private audience with the emperor.
Originally, the department that solely managed audiences with the emperor was the Ministry of the Interior.
As the Felberg imperial family gradually lost power, the influence of the Ministry of the Interior had also shrunk considerably, yet it remained a thoroughly pro-imperial group that was difficult to infiltrate with outside spies.
But five years ago, when the emperor’s authority was particularly weak, Imperial Count Lucif Blaine actively cooperated with the Empire’s Five Pillars and succeeded in planting secret eyes and ears inside the Felberg Empire’s Ministry of the Interior.
“So it has come to this?”
Under those circumstances, Baron Hog Melros—second-class chamberlain of the Ministry of the Interior and an upper-rank mage who had reached the rank of Chevalier—checked the magical telegram from Count Blaine that had arrived at his communication coordinates and hardened his expression.
“Damn it. I shouldn’t have taken that money back then…”
A faint regret came over him, but complaining would change nothing.
Five years ago, he had already received an enormous price for betraying the Felberg imperial family.
If he did not obey Imperial Count Lucif Blaine’s orders now, he would never be safe.
The only fortunate thing was that the instructions sent this time via magical telegram were not particularly difficult.
It was neither to assassinate the new emperor Kain nor to steal imperial intelligence.
“Slander operations against neutral nobles wishing to switch to the loyalist faction…”
Baron Hog Melros muttered to himself as he recalled the contents of the telegram.
Recently, he had been assigned the role of reviewing audience requests from neutral nobles wishing to rejoin the imperial loyalists and managing their schedules.
Since most capable chamberlains, including the chief chamberlain, had become corpses in the Founding Day catastrophe, Baron Melros had ended up performing duties far above his rank.
Moreover, he was not simply managing audience schedules; he was also tasked with briefly compiling information on the neutral nobles requesting audiences and reporting it to the emperor.
Count Blaine must have sent this magical telegram precisely because he knew very well the extent of Baron Melros’s role.
“Damn it.”
He didn’t like it, but he had no choice but to comply.
From now on, he had to move without hesitation.
After letting out a small curse and an irritated sigh, he soon headed toward the audience chamber where the new emperor, Kain, was waiting—to fulfill his role.
Little imagining that the emperor’s audience chamber would become the grave where he would breathe his last.