Chapter 83
After Fernando suddenly disappeared during the battle, his knights calmly dealt with the emperor’s soldiers. Some were taken hostage just in case, while a few fleeing soldiers were left alone as the knights hurriedly searched for their vanished lord.
But even after two days of finding no trace of him, Fernando eventually returned to the temporary camp on his own.
“Y-Your Highness!”
Lloyd, spotting him riding from a distance, stumbled out in a fluster. Fernando appeared unharmed as he rode in. However, Lloyd noticed he was holding the reins with only one hand, unlike usual.
Watching him dismount smoothly, Lloyd urgently asked,
“Your Highness, what happened to you?”
Ignoring Lloyd’s frantic inspection, Fernando surveyed the assembled knights. Fortunately, there seemed to be few casualties. It meant they had successfully concluded the battle in his absence.
“You’ve done well.”
His brief praise, as if nothing had happened, left the knights momentarily stunned before they bowed in acknowledgment. But Lloyd, unlike the others, let out an exasperated sigh.
“That’s not the issue! Do you know how worried we were? Your right arm—you are injured, aren’t you?”
Lloyd’s words spilled out rapidly, his usual formality half-forgotten. Unlike the agitated Lloyd, Fernando remained composed and issued a calm order.
“Never mind the injury. Prepare to move immediately.”
At his collected tone, Lloyd finally regained his senses and flinched before replying,
“Eh? But we haven’t yet—”
Just as Lloyd was about to ask if they hadn’t found the High Priest yet, he suddenly noticed an elderly man standing leisurely behind Fernando.
The sturdy old man shrugged at Lloyd while stroking the mane of the horse he had ridden.
“Don’t tell me… that’s…?”
As if answering Lloyd’s unspoken question, Fernando continued issuing orders.
“Call off the search. We return to the Ilion Temple at once.”
While Fernando led his knights in a frenzied march, the emperor was meeting with the sole surviving soldier who had returned alive.
“So, the Grand Duke vanished without a trace in the middle of battle?”
The emperor’s eyes widened as he stared at the kneeling knight.
This was one of the emperor’s shadow knights, who had faced the Grand Duke’s forces head-on and survived. Despite sending elite knights from the division and holding a significant numerical advantage, only one had returned alive. Another survivor had died from his injuries on the way back.
“Yes, I believe he may have fallen off a cliff… but I didn’t have time to confirm. My deepest apologies.”
The knight’s forehead was streaked with blood as he barely made it to the palace. But the emperor was fixated only on the part about the Grand Duke falling off a cliff, paying no mind to such trivial details. Naturally, he felt no remorse over the loss of his elite knights, who were like his own limbs.
Unable to suppress a twitch at the corner of his mouth, the emperor lightly covered it with his hand.
“I see. Then it would be wise to discreetly send someone to check if a body is found.”
“Yes, I will see to it.”
As the limping knight left the audience chamber, the emperor, who had been tapping the armrest of his throne, finally broke into a delighted smile.
The mere possibility that Fernando might be dead made him feel as if a lifetime of pent-up frustration had vanished. Staring at the gilded tapestry across the room, the emperor couldn’t wipe the grin off his face for a long while.
Of course, he knew Fernando wasn’t the type to die so easily. Getting his hopes up now might only lead to greater disappointment later.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel giddy.
Even if he isn’t dead, it’d be nice if he came back crippled in some way.
Before the emperor could fully suppress his petty hopes, someone knocked on the audience chamber door.
“Your Majesty, it’s Rochester.”
The emperor looked up as the chamberlain entered.
Under the emperor’s impatient glare, the chamberlain quickly bowed.
“It’s… the Marchioness Elodie has come again. What shall we do?”
“What?”
The emperor frowned. The marchioness had been visiting the palace for several days now. Despite being repeatedly turned away, she seemed undeterred.
“Tch, tell her no. No—just throw her out.”
The emperor leaned back in annoyance. Her purpose was obvious: to beg for mercy as her house crumbled. But the emperor had no further use for House Elodie now that the marquess was dead.
“Yes, I will have her escorted out.”
As the chamberlain bowed and hurried out, the emperor relaxed his expression.
But less than five minutes later, the chamberlain knocked again.
“Y-Your Majesty… Marchioness Elodie pleaded that if she cannot see you, she at least wishes to deliver this letter—”
Finally, the emperor’s brow furrowed completely as he snapped in irritation.
“Did I not say to throw her out?! Must I personally attend to every letter from some foolish marchioness?! That idiot—!”
“M-My deepest apologies, Your Majesty!”
The chamberlain flinched and bowed so low his head nearly touched the floor. Just as the emperor was about to wave him away, his gaze fell on the letter in the chamberlain’s hand.
“Wait.”
At the emperor’s command, the chamberlain froze mid-turn.
“Hand me that letter.”
Under the emperor’s gesture, the trembling chamberlain hesitantly approached. Snatching the letter, the emperor immediately tore it open.
He wanted to see what urgent matter could justify such rudeness and persistence.
His frown deepened as he skimmed the contents. After a long moment, his head tilted slightly.
His muttering voice was laced with confusion.
“What nonsense is this? Searching the Ilion Temple from top to bottom?”
The Ilion Temple had deep ties to the imperial palace. Though not under imperial jurisdiction, its priests were renowned, often invited to royal events.
Narrowing his eyes, the emperor read on.
Then, at one point, his hand slowly lowered from his chin.
“…Oh?”
The emperor’s eyes flashed with sudden interest. He immediately ordered the chamberlain:
“Bring the marchioness here. She likely hasn’t left yet.”
Contrary to his earlier dismissal, the emperor’s gaze now brimmed with intrigue. Unexpectedly, the marchioness had brought him invaluable information.
Fernando crossed the border at dawn after a grueling march.
Pushing his horse to its limits, he recalled Calosa’s words:
“The holy water refers to my divine blood. Once absorbed, it will transform the composition of the blood vessels in the body. Then, the stalled functions will restart.”
His gaze shifted to the carriage following slightly behind. Due to the long journey, Calosa was riding in it.
With Calosa’s holy water, Yulia could awaken.
But as he had warned, not all her functions would fully recover.
“Divine power is often linked to vitality, but in truth, it is most closely tied to the brain. Even if she wakes, she will likely lose all her memories for now.”
Only after hearing that did Fernando begin to understand Yulia’s past behavior.
After all, Yulia had lost her memories once before. Was that also a symptom related to divine power?
Fernando’s darkened face turned toward the moonlit wilderness. Impatience gnawed at him, and he urged his horse faster.
The thought of Yulia losing all her memories made it hard to hold onto reason.
Yet, part of him wondered if it might be for the best—she would forget the past that had tormented her.
Suppressing the turmoil in his mind, Fernando finally reached the outskirts of the temple.
And in that moment, he realized something was amiss—the streets were strangely chaotic.
