The Immortal Had a Guardian Spirit Chapter 25

“That was enough of a shock to make you disappear for ten years? It’s not like I stabbed you in the back.”

Deceiver had merely been exposed.

He hadn’t stabbed him in the back. He’d stayed as a son, as a disciple, until the very end. He hadn’t done Raven any harm—all that happened was his identity being revealed.

Yet Raven had been shocked and gone into hiding for ten years. To Deceiver, it was incomprehensible.

“…Right, you’ve always been this kind of person.”

A twisted demigod who didn’t even consider the deception itself to be a problem.

In the past, when Raven knew nothing, he had embraced even these occasional glimpses of this side of him, telling himself it was just because the kid was young and naive. But not anymore. Raven’s eyes cooled.

‘If, as he says, he had actually stabbed me in the back and then brazenly showed his face, that would have been easier to handle.’

What point was there in getting angry at him now?

A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped quietly. He slowly withdrew his hand and answered calmly, as if explaining to an immature child.

“How could I not be shocked, when the person I’d given my heart to turned out to be my enemy. And moreover—”

A sneer colored his chilled, settling voice.

“How could I stay calm when I found out he’d come to me with the intent to deceive from the very beginning?”

“Were you shocked because I was your ‘enemy’?”

“I was shocked because ‘you’ were my enemy.”

Because it was ‘you,’ of all people, who deceived me.

Because the bond between us wasn’t born of chance—it was a calculated connection that you, my enemy, had deliberately planned. That was what shook him to the core. Raven, who had given his heart enough to take Deceiver as his adopted son, had not risen in anger but collapsed under the weight of sorrow.

The fact that after running his hardest, he found himself back at square one also contributed to his collapse.

“Of course, that’s not the case now.”

Without a trace of lingering attachment, he withdrew.

Deceiver watched Raven silently for a moment, then slowly rose. Brushing off his clothes a few times, he composed himself and spoke with pristine composure, as if he had never acted out.

“You must be tired from the long journey. It would be best for you to rest for now. We can continue our deeper conversation later.”

“We shall prepare the guest quarters for you.”

At the declaration that signaled the end of the conversation, the Emperor, who had been nervously watching the whole time, quickly chimed in. Deceiver’s brow twitched.

“Merely guest quarters?”

He shook his head firmly.

“He is my father and my master. Is it not proper to offer him the most beautiful palace?”

“Then…”

“For instance, the Eastern Palace.”

That place, so beautiful that no fitting name could be found, simply called the Eastern Palace.

It had become the palace that proved the Emperor’s favor—given to a sister by an Emperor who cherished her above all else, to an Empress by a devoted Emperor, to a favored concubine by an Emperor who had one. As it was mentioned, the current Emperor, Kian Ardal, stiffened.

“The Eastern Palace… you say? But that place is…”

“Your Majesty has no one you favor, do you? And this is my father, no less. I wish to offer him a palace that sits empty and unused. Surely you don’t intend to object?”

“…”

“Or perhaps.”

Deceiver fixed Kian Ardal with a relentless stare. As if proving he was something beyond human, his two eyes held something outside the bounds of understanding and glowed coldly.

“Have you perhaps grown fond of someone—enough that you’d be reluctant to part with the Eastern Palace?”

“Of course not.”

Having seen a demigod with eyes like that veer off in unexpected directions before, and knowing that innocents could end up dead if things went wrong, Kian Ardal shook his head hastily.

“If such an esteemed person is willing to use it, it would be an honor.”

“You heard him, Master? I’ll even allow the ‘stalker’ who followed you to the palace as an accessory. So…”

If you don’t want to see some pitiful crow die.

“Rest.”

“…”

He might not care if people died, but he couldn’t stand by if the cause was himself.

Deceiver narrowed his eyes at the man clenching his fists.

The unspoken threat in them was clear. Raven, who had been about to voice his vehement refusal—why should he stay here?—clamped his mouth shut.

“…You bastard.”

“Hurtful words.”

The humanity he had so painfully preserved—he couldn’t lose it over something like this.

∞ ∞ ∞

The guest had withdrawn.

Deceiver, his business done, also began to move toward the exit—then paused, as if something had occurred to him, and turned back.

His gaze, dull and dry as if watching a pitiful insect struggling to survive, settled on Kian Ardal.

“It seems I’ve won again this time, Your Majesty.”

“…!”

Kian Ardal’s complexion paled.

“I’m not angry, so don’t worry. It’s not that I don’t understand you trying to pull something—you’ve been entertaining enough, after all.”

That was why he’d let whatever they did slide until now.

“But.”

This time, the target was Raven.

‘How dare you try to take my father away and use him to bargain with my other siblings.’

The message Stigma had conveyed was merely that he’d “received orders to secretly seek out Raven,” but the purpose was obvious.

Those older brothers and sisters of his were troublesome to deal with despite being human. Not in terms of power, but in terms of circumstances.

What would have happened if I hadn’t found him first and attached myself to him?

From the Emperor’s perspective, he had chosen his option well, but… Deceiver, feeling the need to warn him for the first time, continued slowly.

“It would be wise for you to clearly understand the limits I permit before making your moves.”

And he smiled sweetly.

“Though of course, Your Majesty, being so wise, will manage just fine.”

A faint trace of fear settled on Kian Ardal’s face.

That was enough of a warning. Deceiver abruptly withdrew his subtly oppressive demeanor and smiled brightly.

“More to the point, Your Majesty. Since my father has returned after ten years, he is unfamiliar with how the Empire’s social circles have changed.”

“…Shall I hold a banquet to commemorate the honored guest’s visit?”

“I would be grateful for such consideration.”

“Then I shall set a date as soon as possible—”

“No. The nobles have much to prepare, don’t they? If it’s too soon, it’ll be inconvenient for everyone.”

Let it be held as soon as possible, but leave enough time for even the nobles from distant regions to prepare and come up.

“There’s no point in rushing and ending up with a disappointing banquet—that would be embarrassing for everyone…”

Prepare a grand banquet without any shortcomings.

That was what the demigod was saying.

“So there’s no need to overexert yourself and hurry too much.”

Once the banquet was held, the siblings would learn of the master’s existence and reach out—so there was no need to rush that timing.

Of course, they would also be the ones to keep Father anchored here, so he couldn’t avoid them entirely. The best course would be to hold onto Father just long enough, then hold the banquet at a suitably fast pace to summon the siblings and bind his feet with them.

A grand banquet and well-cultivated nobles would be enough to keep Father happy. After all, Father is starved for conversation and human warmth.

“Father is the master of all the Association heads, including myself, so the justification is sufficient—but I’d like his true identity to be revealed as late as possible.”

“Then… shall I simply announce him as an ‘honored guest’?”

“You’re quick on the uptake. I look forward to a splendid banquet.”

“…Yes.”

∞ ∞ ∞

After Deceiver had left, Kian Ardal dismissed all his attendants and finally collapsed from his seat.

After a long silence, a hollow laugh escaped.

“So this is how it ends.”

A deep sorrow lingered at the end of his voice.

He was muttering as if to himself, but he said it knowing there was a listener. Stigma, sensing this, revealed himself.

Emotionless brown eyes, devoid of any warmth, looked down at the Emperor seated without dignity. Kian looked up at him quietly. Facing those cold eyes, his own emotions cooled in turn, and his mind began to work.

‘…Still, it wasn’t a complete loss.’

The fact that he gave a warning meant he felt threatened.

That being had ignored whatever they did until now, as if he had no interest. That was because it didn’t affect him. And now, for the first time, he had issued a warning.

The reason was obvious.

‘Raven—that man is his weakness.’

But if I approach him carelessly, I’ll surely die. As he said, I must carefully gauge the “limits.”

As he pondered what to do next, Stigma, interpreting the meaning of his gaze differently, slowly knelt on one knee to lower his eye level.

Only then did Kian’s full attention focus on him. Since he had things to say to the man, the silence was broken easily.

“…Don’t you have something to say to me?”

A brief pause, then the answer came immediately.

“Why did you do it?”

“What are you referring to?”

“Knowing that I would report it, why did you give me that order?”

Stigma was Deceiver’s plainly planted spy on the Emperor.

Though of noble birth, he was ultimately a slave from a defeated nation, and the fact that he had risen to the rank of viscount in this country was because of this background—Kian was well aware of it. Yet he had given the order anyway. It was an irrational, illogical act.

“Well.”

Kian lowered his eyes calmly. Unlike his composed face, his voice carried a hint of exhaustion and resignation as it drifted through the air.

“Because it’s impossible for me to do anything behind your back anyway.”

“…”

“I have no useful pieces left with hands and feet intact. So what choice do I have? I have no choice but to borrow your hands.”

Because you’re capable.

He also factored in that ‘He’ would dismiss such audacious actions as beneath his notice—since he regarded Kian as insignificant. And that had indeed been the case.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

“Liar.”

Still, he couldn’t give up.

Because he was an Emperor with many things to protect.

Shaking off unhelpful emotions with a self-deprecating laugh, the young Emperor continued his thoughts.

‘The one called “Father” by that demigod of all people seemed to actually despise him—is that real, or is it just a quarrel…’

If it’s real, is it pure hatred, to the point of wanting to kill him, or is it love-hate?

He needed to find out, but this wasn’t something he could learn through Stigma. If it leaked to Deceiver that he’d given such an order so soon after being warned about ‘Raven,’ the demigod surely wouldn’t let him off.

It would be difficult, but he had to take a different path.

‘First, secure usable pieces other than Stigma.’

Turning his eyes away from areas he couldn’t touch rashly, he looked for what could be done now.

Something came to mind.

“…Now that I think of it, there have been some attention-grabbing people lately.”

“…”

“Emancipation activists, I believe they’re called.”

Stigma’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he’d heard something he shouldn’t have.

But what could he do about it? He was a viscount with the additional shackle of being a former slave, and the one above him was the Emperor. Unless the demigod acted as a solid backer—but Stigma himself was merely a replaceable part if he fell out of the demigod’s favor, so he couldn’t act recklessly either.

Having finished his calculations inwardly, Kian ignored the other’s demeanor and spoke what needed to be said.

“Could you look into them for me? And if possible, I’d also like to know how to make contact.”

Report it, I don’t care.

Even if this order reaches the demigod, if he can make contact and gain new pieces, it’s a gain.

‘The demigod hates trouble and won’t bother with things that don’t interest him, so he won’t even block me from carrying out such a minor order.’

And surely someone who rose to this position on the grounds of being ‘capable’ couldn’t fail to carry out a direct imperial command.

Stigma would have no choice but to do it.

“…If it is your command.”

As expected, Stigma slowly lowered his head, as if trying to hide his reluctant expression.

His short, almost bob-length green hair slid down to cover half his face, and from within, a neat voice utterly devoid of any trace of emotion emerged.

“I shall gladly obey.”

∞ ∞ ∞

Information was received that the man believed to be Raven had entered the palace.

Since he had openly closed the gate alone in front of the city gate, the transmission was faster and more certain than usual.

‘His skill is just as good as ever.’

His admiration for the astonishing speed of the gate processing was brief. There had been no record of such a thing before, after all.

So brushing it off as trivial, Edardos, the head of the information organization Aurel, turned his attention back to the original subject.

“And they say he entered as an acquaintance of ‘that’ Deceiver…”

Well, the other Association heads had been searching for him with blazing eyes, so Deceiver—who called them older brother and older sister—was likely doing the same.

‘In the end, the winner became a monster.’

The moment Edardos heard the news, he ordered all ongoing operations related to Raven to be halted. There was no point in continuing anymore.

Instead, he changed the orders.