Episode 142. Victory Goes to Those Who Persevere
Degururu, what rolled in were none other than the carcasses of birds.
Five birds in total.
Their bodies were sharply punctured, as if struck by arrows. The letters tied to the birds' feet were gone.
The letters written by the Grand Duke were in Eric's arms.
Eric pulled out the crumpled paper as if to show off.
"Your Highness, you're accused of murder, so I guess you didn't think you'd be under surveillance?"
He shrugged and chuckled, as if the sight of the Grand Duke in prison was amusing.
Grand Duke Artaeum showed no sign of bewilderment. He simply remained silent, staring at the birds with a mysterious gaze.
"Try again and again. Only innocent birds will die."
"Is this the work of your soldiers?"
Eric raised the corners of his mouth as if to ask what the Grand Duke of Artaeum was asking.
“Then what will you do? His Majesty the Emperor personally ordered me to keep an eye on Your Highness the Grand Duke.”
He rustled and unrolled the note the Grand Duke had tied to the bird’s leg. Eric’s eyes, which had been skimming the letter, grew cold. Then, a sarcastic, almost mocking voice spoke.
“...His Highness the Grand Duke seems to be very worried about our Rose.”
The word “our Rose” was enough to irritate the Grand Duke. The Grand Duke of Artaeum’s expression, which had been impassive throughout, hardened into a cold grimace.
“We? How ridiculous, Count Wence. It’s been so long since Rose left you, and you’re still so sullen and clueless.”
“Your Highness doesn’t seem to understand, but a marriage isn’t so easily broken. A couple is someone who fights to the death, only to return to love as if nothing happened.”
“Your case is different. What woman would take you back after cheating right in front of her? Besides, Rose now loves me, not you.”
Eric seethed, his temper twisted as the Grand Duke of Artaeum refused to yield to his provocations.
“Rose is someone who cannot live without me. No matter what I do, she will never leave me. Don’t you know that even going to you was just a plan to provoke my jealousy?”
Eric clenched his fists and forced the corners of his mouth to curl up.
The Grand Duke of Artaeum only sneered, not responding to Eric’s desperate attempts to drive a wedge between him and Rose.
That sight was enough to further agitate Eric.
“Rose will return to me, that’s what she promised. She can’t stand being around Your Highness, who kills people.”
Even with words that could infuriate the Grand Duke, he didn’t easily get angry.
"Your vain delusions are truly pathetic, Count Wence. I'm truly concerned for you, but you should at least get medical attention. You don't want to go delusional."
The word "delusion" was enough to make Eric lose the strings of reason he had been desperately clinging to.
Having recently suffered from auditory and visual hallucinations, the Grand Duke's words infuriated him even more.
Eric, his expression crumpled like a sheet of paper, gripped the iron bars so tightly that they made a loud bang.
"You're a murderer... watch your words!!"
A beastly voice, unable to contain its anger, echoed. And at the same time, Eric's hallucinations began again.
- Beep!
A loud ringing in his head.
And the discordant cacophony of voices, unable to blend in, tormented Eric.
Eric placed his hand on his throbbing head and squinted his eyes.
He staggered in pain and leaned against the iron bars. But that was only for a moment. He struggled to regain his balance, then, with trembling lips, muttered to the Grand Duke,
“...you... can never... leave... this place.”
The voice, mixed with his heavy breathing, was nothing short of a curse.
It revealed his determination not to let him leave until his death.
Eric, having caught his breath, continued with a bitter smile.
“And don’t worry about Rose, who will be left alone. I will take good care of her. Every night... in my bed.”
The Grand Duke's anger soared at Eric’s cackling words.
“This madman.”
The Grand Duke gripped the rattling iron bars with a murderous gaze.
The mana within the Grand Duke's body rippled like a whirlpool. The bars rattled, rattled, rattled by the surging mana.
He wanted to kill Eric right then. How dare he toy with Rose in front of me?
It was an unbearable insult.
'Should I get rid of him?'
His eyes flickered to Eric.
'Just kill them all and usurp the throne.'
The easiest and quickest solution would be to eliminate the Emperor, Eric, and all the Imperial faction that supported the Emperor.
However, that would surely lead to the Grand Duke being labeled the Bloody Monarch, the Tyrant of the Century, forever.
The Grand Duke bit his lower lip to suppress his anger. He bit so hard that blood welled up in his mouth.
Politics wasn't as simple as it sounds.
If he usurped the throne this way, not only would he not be recognized, but forces seeking to oust him would arise in every territory across the country.
If that happened, he would surely face a life of hardship, his life threatened.
Not only for himself, but also for Rose, and even for their future child.
One wrong move would lead to a miserable end.
The Grand Duke didn't want to inflict such suffering on Rose and their future child.
To eliminate, justification was necessary. Not killing at will.
'The reason my uncle spared me as a child was that he cared about the people of the Empire.'
He pretended to be his beloved nephew in front of him, but behind his back, he was always trying to kill him.
Rumors had spread that the former emperor and his wife had been poisoned, so he couldn't poison the Grand Duke. That would have drawn suspicion.
The Emperor chose to find a pretext to kill the Grand Duke.
And now, it was the Grand Duke's turn to find the pretext.
He couldn't let his emotions, like they had in his younger days, ruin the situation.
"Eric, I will kill you no matter what."
He glared at Eric, determined not to forget today's events.
Eric, who had been facing the Grand Duke of Artaeum, staggered and turned away. He looked quite distressed by the influx of auditory hallucinations.
Even as Eric completely disappeared, the Grand Duke of Artaeum continued to stare at the spot where Eric had been.
He could taste the pungent taste of blood in his mouth.
He held it in.
He held it in with all his might.
For Rose.
The Grand Duke of Artaeum, who had been standing in front of the iron bars, turned his head and looked at the dead bird.
He slowly bent down and placed five dead birds in his palm.
Once for the investigation report before he was imprisoned.
And once for not killing Eric.
He could have used magic, but he chose not to.
He crouched down, prepared for any eventuality.
And it was a very wise choice.
The corners of the Grand Duke's mouth slightly quirked as he looked at his palm.
"...At least it yielded some benefit."
As the Grand Duke finished speaking, the bodies of the dead birds took on a faint glow.
"The prison I'm in has no protection against magic."
The sparkling light floated over his palm, then crumbled into dust and vanished into the air. His empty palm was devoid of anything. A triumphant smile graced the Grand Duke's face as he looked down at it.
He could use magic freely within this prison.
This prison didn't control magic.
The Empire had two types of prisons: those for ordinary citizens and those for magicians.
When a wizard is imprisoned in a magical control cell, even the simplest spells become impossible.
This is because mana is artificially drained there.
There were few wizards, and building magical control facilities was astronomically expensive, so there were only a few facilities.
The Grand Duke knew he wasn't imprisoned in a magical control cell.
He could sense the flow of mana, so he could sense this much.
However, he couldn't know what was happening outside.
If magical detection devices had been installed around the prison for any unforeseen circumstances, any escape would be swiftly apprehended.
That would have led to the worst possible outcome: being imprisoned in a magical control cell.
So, the Grand Duke of Artaeum conducted an experiment.
He created a magical bird, attached a note to it, and sent it flying.
The bird's destination wasn't the Artaeum Mansion. The bird flew around the prison, exploring its surroundings as if exploring the prison.
If the bird had detected any magical devices, it would have vanished. And the bird would have known it as it vanished.
A smile still lingered on the Grand Duke's lips.
"In this prison... there's nothing that can limit magic."
His voice sounded cheerful as he muttered.
Everything had almost become entangled. He hadn't lost the opportunity to escape.
His patience had paid off.
Now, it was only a matter of time before he escaped.
Just as the Grand Duke was contemplating proving his innocence, —squeak, squeak.— a field mouse was heard.
It was a small, dark-colored field mouse with red eyes.
The mouse sniffed and gazed at the Grand Duke as if exploring, then quickly retreated behind the iron bars.
Perhaps it had come to scavenge some of the Grand Duke's leftover food?
The mouse didn't rummage through the prison, but instead approached the Grand Duke. Then, it opened its mouth as if vomiting something.
The mouse spat something out with a pop.
It was a crumpled piece of paper, covered in saliva.
A smile appeared on the Grand Duke's face as he looked at the paper.
"Finally, a reply has arrived."
The Grand Duke's true messenger was not a bird, but a field mouse.
The bird he had magically created was merely a means to disrupt the Imperial faction and to examine the prison's magical devices.
"That Neruan. You're usually so quick to act, but you're so slow at times like this."
The one who communicated through the rat was Neruan.
The Grand Duke waved his hand in the air toward the note that had fallen to the floor.
The paper, which had been on the floor, floated into the air and rustled open.
It was so heavily covered in saliva that he didn't want to touch it, so it appeared he'd used magic.
The note contained the Grand Duke's request: whether there was a special magical device in the prison, and whether there was anyone who could prove that the Grand Duke had gone south.
[No special magical device. And...]
The Grand Duke, reading the note, let out a snicker.
"It's too late. I already figured it out."
After checking the note, he cast his magic again.
The floating paper caught fire with a sizzle. The note quickly burst into flames, reducing it to ash. The Grand Duke blew the ashes into the air and looked out the window.
It was still a bright day.
"Hurry... the sun must set."
There was work to do in the dark night.
The soldiers who had temporarily left their posts because of Eric returned. The Grand Duke, without causing any disturbance, quietly went about his business.
Time passed, the sun slowly set, and soon everyone was asleep.
The Grand Duke glanced at those watching him and stepped into the bathroom. He then gently lifted the field mouse that had become his messenger.
He cast a spell on the field mouse. The field mouse's body flashed, and soon a faint smoke rose.
The field mouse took on human form, transforming into the Grand Duke's exact likeness.
"You must behave yourself,"
Grand Duke Artaeum whispered softly and disappeared.
The field mouse sniffed and then left the bathroom. Instead of going straight to bed, the field mouse turned toward the soldier.
He reached through the bars and touched the soldier with a snap. The touch of the field mouse caused the soldier to turn around.
He seemed quite nervous about the actions of the Grand Duke of Artaeum, who was provoking him in the middle of the night. However, the words that came out of his mouth were incredibly absurd.
“Cheese.”
“...Huh?”
When the dumbfounded soldier asked again, the field mouse, who had transformed into the Grand Duke, frowned and said.
“Cheese!”
A prisoner asking for a midnight snack.
‘What...’
The soldier was quite absurd, but since the Grand Duke was a member of the royal family, he decided to grant his request.
The soldier had his subordinate bring the Grand Duke some high-quality cheese to eat. Along with wine to quench his thirst.
The field mouse’s expression, which was handed a plate full of cheese, looked happier than ever.
Degururu, what rolled in were none other than the carcasses of birds.
Five birds in total.
Their bodies were sharply punctured, as if struck by arrows. The letters tied to the birds' feet were gone.
The letters written by the Grand Duke were in Eric's arms.
Eric pulled out the crumpled paper as if to show off.
"Your Highness, you're accused of murder, so I guess you didn't think you'd be under surveillance?"
He shrugged and chuckled, as if the sight of the Grand Duke in prison was amusing.
Grand Duke Artaeum showed no sign of bewilderment. He simply remained silent, staring at the birds with a mysterious gaze.
"Try again and again. Only innocent birds will die."
"Is this the work of your soldiers?"
Eric raised the corners of his mouth as if to ask what the Grand Duke of Artaeum was asking.
“Then what will you do? His Majesty the Emperor personally ordered me to keep an eye on Your Highness the Grand Duke.”
He rustled and unrolled the note the Grand Duke had tied to the bird’s leg. Eric’s eyes, which had been skimming the letter, grew cold. Then, a sarcastic, almost mocking voice spoke.
“...His Highness the Grand Duke seems to be very worried about our Rose.”
The word “our Rose” was enough to irritate the Grand Duke. The Grand Duke of Artaeum’s expression, which had been impassive throughout, hardened into a cold grimace.
“We? How ridiculous, Count Wence. It’s been so long since Rose left you, and you’re still so sullen and clueless.”
“Your Highness doesn’t seem to understand, but a marriage isn’t so easily broken. A couple is someone who fights to the death, only to return to love as if nothing happened.”
“Your case is different. What woman would take you back after cheating right in front of her? Besides, Rose now loves me, not you.”
Eric seethed, his temper twisted as the Grand Duke of Artaeum refused to yield to his provocations.
“Rose is someone who cannot live without me. No matter what I do, she will never leave me. Don’t you know that even going to you was just a plan to provoke my jealousy?”
Eric clenched his fists and forced the corners of his mouth to curl up.
The Grand Duke of Artaeum only sneered, not responding to Eric’s desperate attempts to drive a wedge between him and Rose.
That sight was enough to further agitate Eric.
“Rose will return to me, that’s what she promised. She can’t stand being around Your Highness, who kills people.”
Even with words that could infuriate the Grand Duke, he didn’t easily get angry.
"Your vain delusions are truly pathetic, Count Wence. I'm truly concerned for you, but you should at least get medical attention. You don't want to go delusional."
The word "delusion" was enough to make Eric lose the strings of reason he had been desperately clinging to.
Having recently suffered from auditory and visual hallucinations, the Grand Duke's words infuriated him even more.
Eric, his expression crumpled like a sheet of paper, gripped the iron bars so tightly that they made a loud bang.
"You're a murderer... watch your words!!"
A beastly voice, unable to contain its anger, echoed. And at the same time, Eric's hallucinations began again.
- Beep!
A loud ringing in his head.
And the discordant cacophony of voices, unable to blend in, tormented Eric.
Eric placed his hand on his throbbing head and squinted his eyes.
He staggered in pain and leaned against the iron bars. But that was only for a moment. He struggled to regain his balance, then, with trembling lips, muttered to the Grand Duke,
“...you... can never... leave... this place.”
The voice, mixed with his heavy breathing, was nothing short of a curse.
It revealed his determination not to let him leave until his death.
Eric, having caught his breath, continued with a bitter smile.
“And don’t worry about Rose, who will be left alone. I will take good care of her. Every night... in my bed.”
The Grand Duke's anger soared at Eric’s cackling words.
“This madman.”
The Grand Duke gripped the rattling iron bars with a murderous gaze.
The mana within the Grand Duke's body rippled like a whirlpool. The bars rattled, rattled, rattled by the surging mana.
He wanted to kill Eric right then. How dare he toy with Rose in front of me?
It was an unbearable insult.
'Should I get rid of him?'
His eyes flickered to Eric.
'Just kill them all and usurp the throne.'
The easiest and quickest solution would be to eliminate the Emperor, Eric, and all the Imperial faction that supported the Emperor.
However, that would surely lead to the Grand Duke being labeled the Bloody Monarch, the Tyrant of the Century, forever.
The Grand Duke bit his lower lip to suppress his anger. He bit so hard that blood welled up in his mouth.
Politics wasn't as simple as it sounds.
If he usurped the throne this way, not only would he not be recognized, but forces seeking to oust him would arise in every territory across the country.
If that happened, he would surely face a life of hardship, his life threatened.
Not only for himself, but also for Rose, and even for their future child.
One wrong move would lead to a miserable end.
The Grand Duke didn't want to inflict such suffering on Rose and their future child.
To eliminate, justification was necessary. Not killing at will.
'The reason my uncle spared me as a child was that he cared about the people of the Empire.'
He pretended to be his beloved nephew in front of him, but behind his back, he was always trying to kill him.
Rumors had spread that the former emperor and his wife had been poisoned, so he couldn't poison the Grand Duke. That would have drawn suspicion.
The Emperor chose to find a pretext to kill the Grand Duke.
And now, it was the Grand Duke's turn to find the pretext.
He couldn't let his emotions, like they had in his younger days, ruin the situation.
"Eric, I will kill you no matter what."
He glared at Eric, determined not to forget today's events.
Eric, who had been facing the Grand Duke of Artaeum, staggered and turned away. He looked quite distressed by the influx of auditory hallucinations.
Even as Eric completely disappeared, the Grand Duke of Artaeum continued to stare at the spot where Eric had been.
He could taste the pungent taste of blood in his mouth.
He held it in.
He held it in with all his might.
For Rose.
The Grand Duke of Artaeum, who had been standing in front of the iron bars, turned his head and looked at the dead bird.
He slowly bent down and placed five dead birds in his palm.
Once for the investigation report before he was imprisoned.
And once for not killing Eric.
He could have used magic, but he chose not to.
He crouched down, prepared for any eventuality.
And it was a very wise choice.
The corners of the Grand Duke's mouth slightly quirked as he looked at his palm.
"...At least it yielded some benefit."
As the Grand Duke finished speaking, the bodies of the dead birds took on a faint glow.
"The prison I'm in has no protection against magic."
The sparkling light floated over his palm, then crumbled into dust and vanished into the air. His empty palm was devoid of anything. A triumphant smile graced the Grand Duke's face as he looked down at it.
He could use magic freely within this prison.
This prison didn't control magic.
The Empire had two types of prisons: those for ordinary citizens and those for magicians.
When a wizard is imprisoned in a magical control cell, even the simplest spells become impossible.
This is because mana is artificially drained there.
There were few wizards, and building magical control facilities was astronomically expensive, so there were only a few facilities.
The Grand Duke knew he wasn't imprisoned in a magical control cell.
He could sense the flow of mana, so he could sense this much.
However, he couldn't know what was happening outside.
If magical detection devices had been installed around the prison for any unforeseen circumstances, any escape would be swiftly apprehended.
That would have led to the worst possible outcome: being imprisoned in a magical control cell.
So, the Grand Duke of Artaeum conducted an experiment.
He created a magical bird, attached a note to it, and sent it flying.
The bird's destination wasn't the Artaeum Mansion. The bird flew around the prison, exploring its surroundings as if exploring the prison.
If the bird had detected any magical devices, it would have vanished. And the bird would have known it as it vanished.
A smile still lingered on the Grand Duke's lips.
"In this prison... there's nothing that can limit magic."
His voice sounded cheerful as he muttered.
Everything had almost become entangled. He hadn't lost the opportunity to escape.
His patience had paid off.
Now, it was only a matter of time before he escaped.
Just as the Grand Duke was contemplating proving his innocence, —squeak, squeak.— a field mouse was heard.
It was a small, dark-colored field mouse with red eyes.
The mouse sniffed and gazed at the Grand Duke as if exploring, then quickly retreated behind the iron bars.
Perhaps it had come to scavenge some of the Grand Duke's leftover food?
The mouse didn't rummage through the prison, but instead approached the Grand Duke. Then, it opened its mouth as if vomiting something.
The mouse spat something out with a pop.
It was a crumpled piece of paper, covered in saliva.
A smile appeared on the Grand Duke's face as he looked at the paper.
"Finally, a reply has arrived."
The Grand Duke's true messenger was not a bird, but a field mouse.
The bird he had magically created was merely a means to disrupt the Imperial faction and to examine the prison's magical devices.
"That Neruan. You're usually so quick to act, but you're so slow at times like this."
The one who communicated through the rat was Neruan.
The Grand Duke waved his hand in the air toward the note that had fallen to the floor.
The paper, which had been on the floor, floated into the air and rustled open.
It was so heavily covered in saliva that he didn't want to touch it, so it appeared he'd used magic.
The note contained the Grand Duke's request: whether there was a special magical device in the prison, and whether there was anyone who could prove that the Grand Duke had gone south.
[No special magical device. And...]
The Grand Duke, reading the note, let out a snicker.
"It's too late. I already figured it out."
After checking the note, he cast his magic again.
The floating paper caught fire with a sizzle. The note quickly burst into flames, reducing it to ash. The Grand Duke blew the ashes into the air and looked out the window.
It was still a bright day.
"Hurry... the sun must set."
There was work to do in the dark night.
The soldiers who had temporarily left their posts because of Eric returned. The Grand Duke, without causing any disturbance, quietly went about his business.
Time passed, the sun slowly set, and soon everyone was asleep.
The Grand Duke glanced at those watching him and stepped into the bathroom. He then gently lifted the field mouse that had become his messenger.
He cast a spell on the field mouse. The field mouse's body flashed, and soon a faint smoke rose.
The field mouse took on human form, transforming into the Grand Duke's exact likeness.
"You must behave yourself,"
Grand Duke Artaeum whispered softly and disappeared.
The field mouse sniffed and then left the bathroom. Instead of going straight to bed, the field mouse turned toward the soldier.
He reached through the bars and touched the soldier with a snap. The touch of the field mouse caused the soldier to turn around.
He seemed quite nervous about the actions of the Grand Duke of Artaeum, who was provoking him in the middle of the night. However, the words that came out of his mouth were incredibly absurd.
“Cheese.”
“...Huh?”
When the dumbfounded soldier asked again, the field mouse, who had transformed into the Grand Duke, frowned and said.
“Cheese!”
A prisoner asking for a midnight snack.
‘What...’
The soldier was quite absurd, but since the Grand Duke was a member of the royal family, he decided to grant his request.
The soldier had his subordinate bring the Grand Duke some high-quality cheese to eat. Along with wine to quench his thirst.
The field mouse’s expression, which was handed a plate full of cheese, looked happier than ever.
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