Wasn’t This Supposed To Be a Strategy Game? Chapter 103

At his words, Eden’s eyes widened as she looked at Asmun. It was clear Asmun had sensed the same thing.

Duke Pierre was Rachel Milstein’s father, which meant…

‘So even the Emperor going out to hunt was part of the setup…! What a meticulous bastard…!’

Eden ground her teeth in frustration.

“Is it Mount Homer?”

When Asmun asked calmly to confirm, Ivatan looked at him for a moment and then answered in an even voice.

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“Thank you. I won’t forget your favor this day.”

“……”

“Saintess.”

At Asmun’s call, Eden quickly fell in beside him. Without looking back, the two of them strode out of the palace corridor.

“Ch—Chancellor…”

The secretary addressed Ivatan with a trembling voice.

Ivatan watched Eden’s departing back until she was completely gone, then finally turned to the secretary.

“Assemble every unit we can deploy at once.”

“Y—Yes…?”

The secretary’s face turned aghast as he grasped what that order implied.

“Chancellor…! Do you truly believe what she said…?”

“When His Majesty gives the word, we must be able to march immediately.”

Ivatan didn’t even answer the question; he turned on his heel and hurried off.

***

This time, Asmun and Eden were able to use an emergency scroll to jump straight to Mount Homer, but that still didn’t mean they could easily meet the Emperor.

Because the imperial hunt was being held there, Mount Homer covered a vast area, and there was no way to search the entire mountain.

So Eden had to employ a small stratagem.

“There’s an assassin on this mountain who intends to harm His Majesty. We must find him at once and protect him!”

In a situation like this, the status of Saintess was truly useful. If a mere apprentice priest had said it, such an absurd claim would’ve been dismissed out of hand—but coming from the Saintess’s mouth, it instantly became a divine oracle.

With the Saintess appearing alongside a prince and proclaiming a grim oracle, the hunting grounds below fell into chaos in an instant.

“Spread out at once and find His Majesty the Emperor!”

The Imperial Knights, along with every available force, poured into the mountain, beginning a frantic game of hide-and-seek to locate the Emperor.

Eden watched the sun tilt ever more westward, her face tight with anxiety.

‘We’ve wasted too much time.’

Just as her throat felt parched and raw, the Emperor—rescued at last by the Imperial Knights—came down the slope.

“Asmun!”

The Emperor looked utterly dumbfounded, his pleasant leisure abruptly ruined.

“Third Prince Asmun Declend, I pay respects to Your Majesty.”

Asmun offered a composed salute. The Emperor removed his stifling helm and passed it to a knight, his brows knitting.

“An assassin? What is the meaning of all this?”

His gaze turned to Eden.

“Is this the new Saintess?”

“Saintess Eden Lilliette greets Your Majesty.”

Eden bowed quickly, then caught sight of a man running toward them from afar. That had to be Duke Pierre.

He must not be given time to interfere. There was truly no time left.

Eeden spoke at once, producing the line she had prepared.

“Your Majesty, a divine oracle has come to me. Please dismiss everyone.”

At the word “oracle,” puzzlement flickered in the Emperor’s eyes. He, too, clearly knew the truth about the Sacred Stone. [Note: Refers back to the earlier arc involving the “Sacred Stone” and its legitimacy.]

Even so, he had to be persuaded. This had to be stopped somehow.

“Your Majesty’s life is in danger.”

At that, the Emperor’s eyes wavered with unease.

“We’ll speak inside. Ah, Duke, wait outside for a moment.”

The Emperor led the way into a hunting lodge, and Asmun and Eden hurried after him.

Inside the luxuriously appointed room, the Emperor heard what Eden had seen and experienced.

“…Can you take responsibility for those words?”

“Yes. I can.”

There was no wavering in Eden’s eyes, and that only made the Emperor’s anxiety surge out of control.

“But… Kyris… how could he…?”

His voice, laden with shock, would not come out properly.

He knew he had never been a gentle father to his princes. He admitted he had pushed the eldest, Kyris, harder because he lacked the necessary ability.

But… had he truly cast aside even the bare minimum of decency to do something like this?

No—what were the odds this claim was even true?

The circumstances fit, yes, but did that make it proof that Kyris intended to try that ritual on him?

If he branded Kyris a traitor without evidence, and they turned out to be wrong, the consequences would be irreparable.

And Kyris was his son.

“Your Majesty, I know this is hard to accept, but we have no time. Once the sun sets, the ritual will begin.”

The Emperor looked out the window. The sun was already snagging on the ridgeline; the clear blue sky was slowly bleeding red.

Watching the wavering Emperor, Asmun dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“If any of this is false, I will pay with my life.”

Both the Emperor and Eden stared at him in shock—but that iron resolve brought the Emperor’s wavering to an end.

He rose to his feet and turned to the Captain of the Imperial Knights, who had heard all of it.

“Ready the troops at once and converge on Kyris’s castle.”

His voice trembled, but it was resolute. The Captain bowed crisply to accept the command.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“And Asmun and the Saintess will accompany me.”

Asmun and Eden bowed to accept the order.

At once, the Emperor, Asmun, and Eden set off for Kyris’s castle. Even as they traveled, the sun kept sinking.

“Your Majesty, the Chancellor has mustered the troops! Reinforcements should arrive swiftly.”

Overhearing the Captain’s report, Eden sucked in a breath. Her fondness for Ivatan seemed to deepen by a grain more.

What a capable man.

“And I have ordered the Imperial Mages to research a spell that nullifies Anaght magic.”

The Emperor nodded silently.

They soon arrived before Kyris’s castle.

Compared to Asmun’s, Kyris’s castle was incomparably grand and opulent. What’s more, troops—who ordinarily would not be stationed there—had formed lines out front, deepening the Emperor’s unease.

“His Majesty the Emperor is here. Open the gates.”

“We will report to His Highness the Prince.”

“Insolent! Do you mean to keep His Majesty waiting?!”

“We beg pardon. His Highness had ordered that no one be admitted…”

Just then, reinforcements from the palace arrived.

“Stand aside, or we will cut our way through.”

At the Captain’s murderous glare, the faces of Kyris’s soldiers turned strained—

And at that moment, a magic circle blossomed in the sky.

“A magic array!”

As the knights who spotted it first shouted, everyone looked up. It was the same kind of array that had appeared during the Solar Festival. [Note: “태양제” — the national solar festival seen in earlier chapters.]

“Damn it—protect His Majesty!”

A flock of gargoyles poured out from within the array.

“They’re trying to stall for time!”

Eden shouted in frustration to Asmun, who had moved in front of her and was cutting through the gargoyles without mercy.

There was no way Kyris didn’t know that the Imperial Knights could dispatch such creatures quickly. This was simply a ploy to buy time.

And just as he intended, the sun was setting.

‘Damn it…!’

By the time the gargoyles were all subdued, the sun had already set.

Eeden looked urgently to the Emperor. From all the commotion, he had sensed that Eden’s words were true; he stood frozen in great shock—yet he did not look like a man whose soul had been subjugated.

Had the ritual not finished yet?

Right—perhaps the ritual required a long time to conduct, and there was still a chance.

Please…!

“Storm the castle at once!”

The troops at Kyris’s castle had no way to defeat the furious imperial forces; the gate was breached in short order. The Emperor, Asmun, and Eden rushed inside.

“The underground prison!”

With Eden giving the precise location, the previously scattered troops all poured toward the dungeons.

At last, the sealed doors of the underground prison crashed open—and the expected scene unfolded.

Just as the prophecy book had written, preparations for the Anaght Ritual had been made in Kyris’s castle dungeon.

Sinister candles burned here and there; a foul black magic array sprawled across the floor; the air reeked metallic with blood.

And at the center of it all… finally…

Uh…?

“Patrian…?”

At the Emperor’s startled call, Patrian turned to look at him. In front of Patrian, Kyris was kneeling.

“Your Majesty…!”

At the appearance of someone wholly unexpected, Eden stared, briefly forgetting how to breathe.

Patrian…?

‘Why is Patrian here…?’

Patrian’s face was spattered with blood, and a large sword was in his hands. Eden finally took in the darker corners of the dungeon.

As if a brutal battle had taken place, Kyris’s knights lay about, limp and bleeding.

As if someone had cut them all down…

‘What is… this situation…?’

And why was Kyris like that…?

As if he had lost all will—a man on his knees, bound with rope…

“Patrian…! All of this… what in the world is going on!”

Sensing the ominous turn, Asmun’s brows drew tight.

Patrian, looking as if he had just finished the deed, panted for a moment, then raised the bloodied sword in both hands, knelt before the Emperor, and bowed his head.

Lifting the gore-stained blade high, he proclaimed in a voice brimming with triumph,

“Your Majesty, I have captured the traitor who nearly slew you and brought the Empire to ruin!”

Eden’s ears rang hollow.

“Elder Brother Kyris… no, the traitor Kyris Declend sought to use the vile black magic known as the Anaght Ritual to dominate Your Majesty’s soul and claim the throne.”

From Patrian’s lips poured out, fluently and smoothly, every detail Asmun had conveyed to the Emperor.

What on earth… was this…?

“I grew suspicious of the traitor’s recent movements, uncovered all of this, pretended to cooperate with him, and subdued him.”