Chapter 273: Princess and Empress (1)

Clank—!

The cell door in Yuren’s detention center opened, and I watched as Quay walked out, each step dragging behind him.

“Looks like everything has been taken care of?” He asked.

“Since I have returned what you had stolen,” I replied.

Then Quay let out a smile, and Epherene glanced at me nervously as she tucked her theory and notes behind her back.

“But Deculein... why were you scribbling down the Holy Language?” Quay asked.

The Holy Language was, in every sense, the language of the gods. It was essential for interpreting revelations from the Holy Era and for any attempt at divine dialogue. But even with

Comprehension

, it was impossible to learn—because the Holy Language had no form by which it could be learned or even approached.

“I would like to visit the sanctuary you showed me,” I said.

“... To the sanctuary?” He said, as if the word itself was unexpected coming from me.

“In order to kill you, I must first know about you,” I replied with a nod.

“

Hmm...

I see. But do you know the way?”

I played the game as a tester and even managed to clear it. But when it came to the final boss, I didn’t really know much. As a designer, I’d spent most of my time patching broken graphics and smoothing out lighting source effect bugs. To the player, the final boss was just someone to kill. Not like the other named characters in the world—those were meant to be comprehended.

“I’ll have to find out eventually.”

However, there was one thing I knew for sure—the true name of the guy who introduced himself as Quay. A name no one else in this world would ever know—one even Quay might have forgotten—but I knew.

“Then what exactly am I supposed to do now?” He asked.

“You are free.”

“Free?”

A guard walked over, unlocked Quay’s cuffs, and handed Him a slip of paper—His temporary identification card for Yuren.

“You don’t need me to guide you through the expo. You have your own legs, your own eyes, and your own arms to find your way.”

Quay looked confused, unsure of what had just happened.

“Go where your feet take you,” I added.

“

Hmm

, you wouldn’t mind?”

“Whether I kill you or detain you in the current situation won’t change a thing.”

However, from that encounter alone, I’d gained two hundred mana points. My mana capacity had finally crossed the five thousand mark. That alone felt like solid progress and was enough for now.

“You’re free to go. Follow the map, and it will take you to the expo,” I added, handing the map to Quay.

“Very well. But, Deculein, the Holy Language isn’t something you’ll ever come to learn,” Quay replied, fingers brushing his wrist, his words falling in a hushed voice.

“And what is the reason?”

"Because our language changes every year, we’ve spoken as many languages as the years we’ve lived. Even if you add up the entire history of your continent, it still wouldn’t match the number of terms we’ve used line by line."

Hearing what Quay said, it did sound hopeless—but not enough to make me surrender.

“Then why don’t you give me a hint? I might be able to learn it given time.”

“Of course, I came to experience the humans and this continent—but the knowledge of that era is not something I wish to share with you,” Quay replied, shaking his head with a hardened expression.

“I’ll ask once more—what is your reason?”

“In the end, you too are human, and I won’t allow what was given by God to be stained by humans,” He replied, a scoff escaping him as He moved past me.

Quay seemed a lot colder now, something that hadn’t been there before, replacing the warmth I hadn’t expected the first time, but somehow, I wasn’t afraid.

“—Follower Quay,” I said, my voice reaching him before he could walk away.

At that moment, Quay trembled, His shoulders rising with a shudder that rippled through His puppet frame as a mysterious and strange aura began to shimmer from within. He turned toward me without a word, and in His widened eyes, anger burned alongside confusion, nostalgia, and a tenderness too human to name.

All of that, every emotion layered in his eyes, had been sparked by one thing—I’d spoken his name aloud in the Holy Language.

“The terms

follower

and

Quay

—I imagine those never changed as you were always one of the followers, and you were always called Quay,” I added.

“... You,” Quay muttered through clenched teeth, his expression steeped in something deeper than anger.

Epherene looked up at Him and gave His shoulder a tap.

“Very well. I will provide you a scroll,” he continued, glancing at Epherene, then back at me, with a deflated laugh.

Quay pulled a sheet of Epherene’s magic paper free. It stretched out, wide and loose, curled like a carpet—and then, before I could react, transformed into a massive scroll that landed right in my arms.

“Read, if you can. But know this—you could spend your entire life and never read it all,” Quay concluded as he walked out the doors of the detention center.

I gave Epherene a slight tilt of my chin to follow Quay; she cleared her throat and nodded, as if she understood.

Fortunately, she’s quick on the uptake when it matters,

I thought.

“By the way, Professor, where is it that you’re heading?” Epherene asked.

“I’ve found something new to learn, so I am planning to learn it,” I replied.

“

Oh

, really?

Umm

, I heard there’s a library in the basement of Yuren Palace. You might want to check it out. Anyway, I’ll be going now!” Epherene said with a smile before chasing after Quay.

“... Very well,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched Epherene disappear through the door.

***

... Princess Maho of Yuren often worried about the fate of her nation. A country’s destiny, like a person’s, seemed fragile—but unlike a single life, the end of a nation didn’t come clean. A person dies and disappears, but Yuren’s fall would leave a splintered history, deepen divides, and leave behind a legacy of loss.

If Yuren were to fall someday—swallowed by the Empire or crushed under the Kingdom’s heel—then merely being

from Yuren

might carry the same stain that marks the Scarletborn today. They’d be marked not by crime, but by origin alone.

That was why Maho refused to take part in the slaughter of the Scarletborn, and why she fought to build a republic. Because their present—their pain—felt too much like Yuren’s future.

The Scarletborn were being slaughtered because they had no power. If they hadn’t been just a tribe from the desert—if they’d been a true nation, strong enough to stand against the Empire—they wouldn’t have fallen so effortlessly.

Therefore, in Maho’s eyes, the Great Elders who once led the Scarletborn were weak and indecisive—classic saints chasing peace. But peace in this era was a kind of sickness, and for too long, the Scarletborn had been ruled by minds too gentle to survive.

For that reason, Maho did everything she could to avoid repeating the Scarletborn’s mistakes, working behind the scenes to support them—because if the Scarletborn were wiped out, the Empire’s sword would only turn to its next target.

Maho hoped the Scarletborn would hold on, grow harder to break with time. Because as long as they stood, they could still serve as Yuren’s shield against the Empire’s blade.

“I’m glad to hear the infamous thief incident was handled smoothly~” Maho said, her fingertips brushing along the shelf as she turned to Rose.

The basement library of the Principality of Yuren was a peaceful retreat, filled with the scent of old books and the soft shuffle of drawers and parchment.

“Thank you, Your Highness," Rose replied.

“

Oh

, right, right, I almost forgot—how was Professor Deculein~?”

At Maho’s question, Rose’s brow twitched, and though she offered no verbal reply, her expression said everything.

“Why, why~?”

“... Deculein was as imperious as the Empire itself—and he showed nothing but contempt for Yuren’s blood,” Rose replied.

“

Mmm~

By the way, did you happen to read the book I recommended?” Maho asked as she lightly walked down the library corridor, pretending the question meant nothing at all.

“

Oh

, yes. You were referring to this?” Rose replied, pulling out the book from her inner pocket.

The Future of the Nation

was never published but instead hidden away in the underground library of Yuren. Its message was simple—democracy and the sovereignty of the people.

“I...”

"I believe that sounds reasonable enough to me~” Maho said, offering her answer first so Rose wouldn’t feel pressured. “This nation is made up of its people, right~? Doesn’t it just make sense that the people should be its true sovereign~?”

“Yes, I share Your Highness’s view. For the nation’s rewards to be reserved exclusively for the nobles—it’s plainly too unjust, especially in a society built on the labor of commoners,” Rose replied, looking at Maho with initial surprise, then offering a smile and a nod.

“Yes, that’s what I thought too~ That’s why I started to wonder if Yuren’s path and future—just maybe, even the slightest bit—might lie in something like a republic~”

At that moment, the conversation between Maho and Rose came to a stop, their faces frozen and words hanging midair—cut clean by the sight of a man standing at the far edge of the library with his back turned.

A man in a tailored coat, with broad shoulders and composed posture—it was Deculein, someone neither Maho nor Rose had imagined seeing here—as the rustle of pages turning echoed through the library and cold sweat beaded at their temples.

It seemed he really was absorbed in his reading—or had he heard any of what we just said?

Maho thought.

“

Oh

,

wow

,

wow~

Wow~

P-Professor~ Professor~” Maho said, startled but just as quickly straightened herself and called out to Deculein.

Deculein turned toward where Maho and Rose stood and, without a word, closed the book he had been reading.

"Princess Maho," Deculein said, meeting Maho’s eyes with warmth in his voice.

"What brings you all the way here, Professor~?”

“For one who values knowledge, the library leaves little choice.”

Maho smiled as she glanced up at the Professor who so clearly loved his books, while beside her, Rose blinked, caught off guard and surprised by how mild Deculein seemed.

He had called me of lowborn blood, hadn’t he?

Rose thought.

“Professor~ Professor~ I wonder what kind of book you are... reading...?”

However, the moment Maho saw the cover of the book Deculein had been reading—

The Future of the Nation

, the very book she had handed to Rose—her body locked in place.

“... It’s silly, right? It’s very silly, isn’t it? I only kept it because it was a strange book~ I mean—can you believe people still think like this in today’s world~?” Maho continued, waving her hands a little.

Deculein said nothing, gave a smile, and slipped the book into the drawer as if the moment had never happened.

In that moment, Maho’s heart thundered in her chest, a resounding drumbeat filling her ears—like the sound of being caught with nowhere to run.

Did I give myself away? Did he see through me? No, not yet. I don’t think he can possibly guess Yuren’s purpose—our purpose—from a single book...

“It described democracy as a system based on the belief that the overwhelming majority stands as the rightful sovereign of the nation,” Deculein said.

“Silly, right~? Very silly~” Maho said, her shoulders giving the smallest flinch.

“It is idealistic,” Deculein said.

“... Pardon me?”

However, Deculein’s reaction was nothing like what Maho had expected, and her ears perked up with sudden curiosity.

“It holds a certain idealism. But for one born a noble, I find myself with an instinctive resistance.”

Maho remained silent.

“If the common people dared to speak of revolution—or, let alone, lead one—I may have no choice but to extinguish them before it begins. After all, the nobles of this continent have not only their bloodline but also the power of mana,” Deculein said.

“...

Oh

, yes, I understand~ I see your point~ But what if, among the common people, there are some with talents equal to any noble’s—”

“They may well exist—or may not. But without a noble’s hand, they cannot be educated. Sponsorship comes from nobles, the Mage Tower belongs to the nobles, and so does the Knights' Order.”

“Even if not now... could it not be possible someday?”

Deculein let out a dry chuckle.

It was the kind of smile one might offer a child, and for some reason, it made Maho feel embarrassed.

“Princess Maho, if this ideal is to be realized, it will demand sacrifice—none greater than from the highest,” Deculein said as he looked down upon her.

At that moment, Maho felt something strange as Deculein—the Empire’s professor who had once saved her life—looked as if he could see straight through her, as if every thought she held was already known to him.

“In an Empire, it would be Her Majesty, the Empress; in a kingdom, the king himself—each would have to give up not only all they own but life itself, merely to take the first step. That is why it remains an ideal.”

Of course, Deculein’s perceptiveness could not extend so deeply, as he was just a professor who barely knew her, had exchanged only a few words with her, and whose only exposure to her thoughts came through the pages of a single book.

“Well—reading a theory so interesting and rebellious at the same time must have made me speak of ridiculous ideas,” Deculein said, bringing the conversation to a close with a warm smile. “Is there anything else you’d like to say, Princess?”

“

Oh

,

umm...

” Maho muttered, clearly searching for a reason to speak. “I... was wondering if you had found the transformation formula...”

“I haven’t found the transformation formula itself, but the theory has been proven through my protégé’s findings.”

“Really? Really? Then the significance of that discovery would be...”

“It is a theory that could revive the dying—and perhaps lead toward human immortality.”

Maho’s mouth fell open before she could stop it.

"If what Deculein is telling us is true, then the compensation Yuren could be held accountable for would be..."

“You need not be concerned. I do not hold Yuren responsible for the loss. At the very least, the Principality of Yuren will be spared any consequences. However, I have one request,” Deculein said.

Then Deculein pulled out a wanted poster from his inner pocket and handed it to her—it displayed the name and face of Carla, and added, “I ask for her pardon and protection. If you can do that, I will see to it myself to prevent the damage from the volcanic eruption soon to come.”

“... Carla?” Maho said, looking up at Deculein. “Is there a connection between you and her, Professor?”

“Yes, she was once my mentor—only for a time when I was a child,” Deculein replied, and that alone was enough explanation, needing no elaboration. “That seems more than enough of a connection.”

“... Yes. Yes, of course, if that’s what you ask...”

“Thank you, Princess Maho. Then, if you’ll excuse me—there is work to be done,” Deculein said, offering one final smile before passing by Maho and Rose.

Maho and Rose stared blankly at his back as Deculein walked away, with Rose in particular seeming lost, as if her thoughts had slipped free and forgotten to return.

“Is this how diplomacy works? To someone like me, he said the Yuren bloodline was lowborn—to my face. But when it’s Your Highness...”

“...

Ahem

,” Maho murmured, clearing her throat as she offered Rose the wanted poster. “I’ll leave Carla in your care, Prosecutor Rose.”

“...

Oh

, yes, Your Highness,” Rose replied with a hesitant nod.

***

Meanwhile, not far from Yuren, within the Empire—the largest and most powerful nation of the age—Empress Sophien sat in the Empress’s Palace, reading

Blue Eyes (Remake)

with a displeased expression, lost in thought.

“

Hmph

, it’s turned into a complete romance novel,” Sophien said as she tossed the book away.

“You mean the novel written by the mage Sylvia, Your Majesty?” Keiron replied, his eyes briefly passing over the cover.

“Indeed.”

“There are rumors, Your Majesty, that the male lead may be based on Deculein.”

“Indeed! That’s exactly the part that gets on my nerves,” Sophien said, her face twisting in open frustration.

Deculein had left the red-furred munchkin alone for eighteen hours, and Sophien’s temper had reached its peak.

“Deculein goes to Yuren and doesn’t even bother to call for me—and meanwhile, this damned novel is topping the bestseller lists, spreading love stories to the public with some damned romance between Yukline and Iliade.”

These days, Sophien lived as both cat and Empress, maintaining a state of possession at all times—governing the Empire from the Imperial Palace when Deculein was away and slipping into her cat form whenever he returned.

“

Oh

, he’s finally back.”

At that moment, as Deculein finally returned to the palace of Yuren, Sophien slipped once more into her cat form—possessing the red-furred Munchkin—and her golden eyes rose to meet him...

***

“Meoooooooow—!”

The moment I stepped into Yuren’s guest room, the red-furred munchkin arched its back and stared me down, its tail twitching as if I’d committed an unforgivable sin.

“You’re far too late!”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. There were duties I could not ignore,” I replied.

“Duties? What exactly were they?”

The Empress approached and rubbed her face against my shoulder, probably just a cat’s nature.

“A scroll? What is this? It looks like it’s written in some alien language.”

“Your Majesty,” I said with seriousness in my tone, leaving no room for insincerity as I looked toward Sophien.

“... What.”

When it came to interpreting the Holy Language, Sophien was a distraction—no, she couldn’t be allowed near Quay, even as a cat form. A meeting with the final boss this early would only throw Sophien into a confusion, which meant there was no choice—I had to end the possession spell.

“These days, there’s a certain question that keeps returning to me about you, Your Majesty.”

“

Hmph

, and what could that be? You return this late, and now you come with questions to ask me?”

“There’s a certain emotion I’ve come to feel from you recently, Your Majesty.”

“... An emotion?”

The emotion Empress Sophien held for me was something I understood all too well. After all, having spent over a century by her side—and now that I had my memories back—it was impossible not to perceive it, for her presence alone was enough for that feeling to wrap around me.

“Your Majesty.”

The cat stared at me with a blank expression, but I could still sense the tension in her posture as she waited, curious about what I’d say next.

“Perhaps.”

I looked straight into the cat’s eyes and asked a single question—my voice just heavy enough to press, and firm enough not to be ignored.

“Do you love me?”

“

Meooow—!

”

At that moment, the red-furred munchkin jumped so high it was as if the ground had betrayed her—shock flaring through her like a string snapped too tight.

Thud—!

The cat smacked into the ceiling and flopped back onto the bed—and just like that, the whole slapstick moment was over.

“

Meow— Meow— Meoooow— Meoooooooooow—

”

The cat continued to cry out as if suffering from pain, her head spinning. Watching her flail like that, I couldn’t help but smile—Sophien had been so thoroughly startled that, just as I intended, her possession spell had snapped.