Chapter 69
“A few days ago, I heard you achieved quite an impressive feat?”
Prince Galen circled around me with a sly, almost serpentine expression. A pungent smell of alcohol followed him like a fog.
“It was nothing much. I merely repelled the enemies who attempted to raid the Golden Bank.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying His Majesty granted you a count’s title for such a trivial accomplishment?”
“…That’s not what I meant. If I’ve offended you, I apologize.”
“Heh heh… I’ll forgive that one. I’m generous, after all. But you’d better watch your tongue from now on.”
“……”
Galen was deliberately picking a fight, twisting every word he could. From his tone, I was certain of it.
‘This bastard isn’t drunk.’
In the novel, Prince Galen was described as having an absurdly high tolerance for alcohol. There was no way a single bottle of strong liquor could get him drunk.
That meant he was pretending—just looking for an excuse to do something insane.
“So. You were at the Golden Bank, were you?”
“…Yes, Your Highness. I happened to have some business there.”
“Business… What kind of business?”
“I merely intended to conduct a small transaction with them.”
“Hmmm… a transaction, you say. With the Golden Bank, no less.”
Galen’s tone grew heavier, as though he were savoring every syllable. He was plotting something. His circling steps finally stopped.
“What a convenient coincidence. You just happened to be there for a ‘small transaction,’ and that’s when the Golden Bank was attacked…”
“That’s right. Just as it was mere coincidence for the other nobles staying in the guest rooms.”
“…Ha ha ha ha!”
That laugh—grating, arrogant, venomous—spilled from his lips.
“Coincidence? Maybe it seems like one, if we’re talking about the other nobles.”
“……”
“But…”
Galen pulled a sheet of white parchment from his coat.
It was filled with fine, cramped handwriting. All eyes in the banquet hall turned toward the two of us.
“What if—among those present—there happened to be someone linked to the dark mages?”
“…Excuse me?”
“Oh, just a suspect, of course! But if that someone had ties to those vile sorcerers, that would change things, wouldn’t it?”
He tossed the parchment at my feet.
It was a copy of the investigation report from the Corpse Explosion Incident that occurred in the County of Impera.
That case was already over. The dark mage Romulus, who caused the incident, confessed to everything and was executed.
The one who commissioned Romulus had been Count Vener—whom I personally killed, ending the matter once and for all.
There was no reason to bring that up now.
But then again—
—that only applied to people capable of normal, rational thought.
Rustle.
On the parchment Galen had thrown down, I saw my own name written clearly.
“A deranged young noble secretly dabbled in dark magic, causing a catastrophe that consumed even his own lands.”
It was merely speculation—one possible “what if.”
Something that might have been true if I hadn’t personally captured Romulus and killed Count Vener myself.
“…As I recall, it was concluded that Count Vener acted alone.”
“Ah, but you see… I just can’t shake the suspicion. Isn’t it odd that the key suspect of a past tragedy should appear again, right at the center of another incident?”
“……”
“It made me wonder—what if this whole thing was just another elaborate act, orchestrated by that same cursed suspect!?”
“Your Highness, please refrain from such reckless assumptions.”
“Reckless!? You call this mere speculation!?”
Grab!
Galen seized me by the collar, his eyes burning with wild fury.
The man was completely unhinged. To cause such a commotion—right in the middle of a banquet, surrounded by nobles—was pure madness.
“Heh…!”
He shoved me away roughly.
“Of course, I understand you might feel wronged.”
“……”
Dusting his hands, Galen bared his teeth in a smug grin.
“So, by the authority of Galen, heir to the royal line of Isother, I hereby declare—effective immediately—the resumption of an Inquisition against Ian Impera!”
“W-What!?”
Princess Friana, who had been silently enduring this farce, could no longer hold back. She shot to her feet.
I held her shoulder down gently and whispered,
“Don’t act rashly. That’s exactly what he wants.”
‘But, my lord! This is absurd—!’
‘If you don’t want to be executed for insulting the crown, stay quiet.’
Once I calmed her, I turned back to Galen.
“Did I hear you correctly, Your Highness? An Inquisition?”
“Heh heh heh! That’s right!”
The Inquisition—it was infamous in the novels, always used as a tool for corruption.
Under the laws of the Royal Union, members of the royal family possessed the right of Inquisition.
That meant that if they merely suspected someone of heresy, they could detain and torture them until a confession was extracted—or until the accused was maimed and turned into a “Blank.”
Prince Galen was clearly aiming for that.
Either I would be tortured into confessing a fabricated crime,
or I’d resist—and be crippled and branded a Blank.
Neither option was acceptable.
“……”
I looked around at the gathered nobles.
Dozens stood watching, silent and unmoving.
They knew this was unjust. Every one of them knew it.
But none dared to intervene.
So much for their precious “honor.” When it came to royal tyranny, they all turned a blind eye.
Some of them were probably enjoying it—hoping to snatch the scraps that would fall from my downfall.
“…Ha.”
There was no way I could allow myself to be taken quietly.
They’d torture me until I broke—or worse, turn me into a Blank. That would be the end of everything.
In this world where rank is everything, there’s no punishment worse than that.
So—
‘Should I run?’
Maybe that was my best choice.
Sure, it would mean throwing away my newly gained title as Count, but…
I wasn’t originally from this world anyway.
Better to abandon my name and start anew than live as a mutilated shell.
Escaping the Terrarium would be difficult, but I knew the novel’s secret passages well enough.
And before I left, maybe I’d tear off one of this bastard’s royal jewels for good measure.
Crackle…
Mana gathered in my legs. If I just launched forward now—
“Stop right there!”
A sudden voice cut through the tension, halting my movement. I released the mana from my legs.
“Cease this at once! What disgraceful behavior is this!?”
That deep, commanding voice sounded oddly familiar.
“How dare a prince of Isother conduct himself in such a shameful manner!?”
“Shameful?”
Galen drew the sword from his belt with a hiss.
“How dare you speak so insolently to a royal!?”
He was ready to strike down the interrupter—but then, upon seeing the man’s face, his body froze.
“Y-you…!”
The man was middle-aged, with a thick, snowy beard and a face that struck me as vaguely familiar.
“…I was merely interrogating a suspect in the recent attack!”
“Then all the more reason for me to intervene!”
The man stepped between us, his voice ringing through the hall.
“I am Slym, head of the Duron family. I swear on my name that this man had nothing to do with the Golden Bank assault! He risked his life to save others and fought fiercely against the attackers himself! To accuse such a man of heresy is preposterous!”
“Ugh…”
For once, Galen had no response.
Kneeling where I was, I struggled to recall who this “Slym Duron” was.
“…Ah!”
That night—the night of the Golden Bank attack!
I’d barely registered it at the time, but… yes, the head of House Duron.
“I, too, hold authority over inquisitions—as the uncle of His Majesty the King of Doras. If you persist in harming this man, know that I will not stand idly by.”
“Urgh…”
Duke Duron.
He wasn’t of Isother’s royal line, but of Doras—another kingdom in the Union.
The former king’s younger brother, granted the title of Duke Duron.
Since Doras wasn’t the main setting of the novel, I hadn’t remembered his name clearly—but I did recall one thing: he was one of the few sane nobles in this insane world.
‘So he attended the social gathering too, huh.’
Some Doras nobles had been invited, since the kingdoms were bound under the Royal Union.
‘Guess being decent really pays off sometimes.’
I hadn’t saved him for gratitude, but thankfully, he wasn’t the kind of man to forget a life debt.
“Tch…!”
The Inquisition might be a royal privilege—but Duke Duron held the same authority.
And since he’d personally witnessed the battle that night, even Galen couldn’t press the matter further.
Finally, with a heavy clack, Galen sheathed his sword again.
Just seeing his twisted, humiliated face was almost satisfying.
“This… this isn’t over! I’ll remember this insult!”
“I’ll remember it as well, Prince Galen.”
“…Tch!”
He turned sharply, throwing a last glare at Friana.
“To abandon your royal lineage for this man? What do you think you’ll gain from that?”
“…I have no regrets about my choice.”
Her voice was calm, resolute. Galen only grew more furious.
“Kh… tch! Pah!”
He spat toward the floor and stormed off.
As he disappeared, Friana finally exhaled a long sigh of relief.
At least the worst had been avoided.
He was vindictive—there was no telling what he’d try later—but it was better than being tortured or executed.
“I owe you my life,” I said to Duke Duron.
“What are you saying? If anything, I owe you mine. Lord Ian—no, I should call you Count Ian now.”
“Heh…”
If not for him, I’d either have been dragged off or forced to flee—both disastrous outcomes.
The banquet ended awkwardly after Galen’s outburst.
Even after he left, no one dared approach me.
With the mood ruined, there was no point in staying, so I slipped out with Duke Duron.
“Today’s events… were shameful, even for a royal,” he said with a sigh.
“…Think nothing of it.”
He apologized on behalf of the royal family.
If only more nobles were as sane as him.
“I should return now. Farewell, Count Ian.”
With that, he boarded his carriage and departed for Doras.
“…Haa.”
I clenched my fist.
Facing that prince made me realize it—painfully.
I was still weak.
I might no longer be a beggar, but I’d nearly lost everything just because I annoyed a single spoiled royal.
That was my current standing—
a man so low that a mere frown from a prince could destroy him.
I’d survived thanks to Duke Duron’s intervention today,
but I couldn’t rely on luck forever.
‘I need to become stronger.’
Strong enough that no one would ever dare look down on me again.
“Th-thank goodness…” Friana murmured, voice trembling even in the carriage.
I sighed as I looked out the window.
The Terrarium’s white walls glowed faintly under the moonlight.
‘This damned gilded cage…’
“Ugh…”
Islin covered her mouth, pale-faced.
All the tension she’d been holding back finally burst out.
She trembled like a frightened mouse.
“Hey.”
“Y-yes? I—I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. The ones who should be ashamed are the monsters inside that palace.”
“……”
“Let’s just go home and rest.”
Of course, this had been her first time seeing Prince Galen.
For me, as a noble, his tyranny came wrapped in excuses and politics.
But for a commoner like Islin, he wouldn’t even bother to pretend—she was less than a fly to him.
No wonder she was scared.
‘…Yeah. I can’t really blame her.’
