Chapter 21
I could only blink in silence as I stared at Emperor Mikael.
He spoke again, pretending—poorly—to be magnanimous.
“I will give you an opportunity to prove your loyalty to the Empire. If you distinguish yourself in the next expedition, I will officially appoint you as an Imperial Mage.”
“A–An Imperial Mage?”
“That’s right. What do you think? I’d say it’s a rather extraordinary offer.”
Extraordinary? Well, he wasn’t wrong.
In this world, mages were divided into three classes:
ordinary mages whose treatment varied by ability,
black mages who bore the brand of rejection and hatred,
and the elite among elites—the Imperial Mages.
Only the most powerful mages could become Imperial Mages, and the title itself was an honor.
They received full funding for their research and materials, enjoyed a rank equivalent to Imperial Knights, and most importantly, had the Emperor himself as their backer.
And now… he was offering to make me, a necromancer, an Imperial Mage?
It was the sort of imperial favor people would grovel to accept—yet somehow, I couldn’t shake the unease.
That face of his screamed hidden agenda.
Black mages were persecuted to the point of desperation; it was no wonder they were turning to destructive schemes like summoning the Demon King.
So perhaps his plan was to dangle me as bait:
“See? If you behave, you too could be an Imperial Mage. So abandon your foolish plots.”
I also opposed the summoning of the Demon King, and I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
But it felt strangely like being offered the role of traitor.
While I hesitated, rolling my eyes around to buy time, Mikael’s expression suddenly hardened.
“Why are you not answering?”
“Ah, well, it’s just that…”
“You saved Duke Bernstein’s life, yet you would refuse my offer?”
I was stunned into silence.
Talk about jumping to conclusions! Since when did “offer” mean “mandatory acceptance”?
And I hadn’t even refused yet.
The more he pushed, the more I felt like refusing outright.
Seeing me flounder under the Emperor’s glare, Castian stepped in.
“Your Majesty, I will ensure the expedition’s success. Therefore—”
“Silence, Duke Bernstein! I cannot entrust the Empire’s future to a man who survived only through black magic!”
Mikael shot to his feet, shouting.
At this point, I couldn’t even tell what exactly had set him off.
Maybe this had all been a setup to attack Castian from the start.
Fearing that the sparks would burn him next, I made a snap decision.
“I’ll do it! I’ll take the offer! I accept!”
Mikael, who had been raging like a storm, instantly calmed.
He slowly sat back down, face smoothing into an expression of serenity.
“Are you sincere?”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I was simply so moved that I was momentarily at a loss for words. Becoming an Imperial Mage… it feels like a dream.”
“Indeed, it is an honor beyond your station. I understand.”
One moment, he was blazing with fury; the next, he was all benevolent ruler again.
Surely, there was something seriously wrong with his emotional regulation.
Was such a man truly fit to be Emperor?
Even though I forced an awkward smile, he nodded in satisfaction.
“I look forward to the next expedition. Duke Bernstein, I trust you will not disappoint me again.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
With that, Mikael swept out of the room, leaving me wondering if this was really the sort of person who should sit on the throne.
If all the Emperor’s work consisted of shouting at people from his seat, I could do it too.
While I was still glaring at the door in his wake, Castian spoke.
“Pay no mind to the Emperor’s words.”
“Oh, I’m not. But Imperial Mage or not, how exactly am I supposed to distinguish myself?”
“I wasn’t referring to that.”
“Then what else is there to care about?”
Of course I knew what he meant—he was telling me not to take the “filthy black mage” insult to heart.
Honestly, after bracing myself for the possibility of imprisonment, a mere insult was nothing.
It stung, sure, but thanks to the warm, steady presence of Castian, it faded quickly.
I smiled and offered my hand.
He took it, smiling brightly—a smile as refreshing as a midsummer sea—and the gloom in my heart lifted.
We left the palace side by side, descending the grand stairs. I asked in a low voice:
“Is His Majesty always like this? He seems… a bit strange.”
“Today was certainly unusual.”
“So he’s not usually like that?”
“Usually, he doesn’t let us go so quickly. And today’s outburst was mild compared to most.”
“…You mean he’s worse than this normally?”
I stopped in my tracks, staring at him. Castian simply nodded and glanced back at the palace.
I followed his gaze.
White walls supported by gilded pillars, towering in imposing splendor—the Emperor’s home, and the seat of the Empire’s greatest power and wealth.
And yet, Mikael was the most awkward, uncomfortable person I’d met since arriving in this world.
Whether angry or smiling, his reactions were so exaggerated it was hard to tell if they were genuine.
Even Castian murmured with quiet suspicion:
“His attitude toward you was odd. I don’t understand why he made such an offer.”
“And before today, you did understand?”
“If it were simply to torment someone he disliked, perhaps.”
“Why does His Majesty dislike you, anyway?”
“I’ve never asked. So I don’t know.”
The nonchalance in his tone was almost comical. Who doesn’t wonder why someone obviously hates them?
This man’s personality was unusual in its own right.
I shook my head and started walking again—when a voice called out.
“Duke Bernstein.”
A man with brown hair and a kind expression approached, his violet eyes glinting behind a monocle on his right eye.
“Just coming from an audience with His Majesty?”
“Sir Haggis.”
The name rang a bell.
“The Chief Imperial Mage,” Castian supplied, reading my mind.
Haggis laughed modestly.
“An undeserved title, I assure you.”
He then looked to Castian, clearly expecting an introduction to me.
But Castian ignored the cue entirely.
At last, Haggis asked directly:
“And this is…?”
“My lover.”
Castian’s simplest, most convenient explanation—and while accurate enough given the circumstances, it never failed to make me flush.
“…I see. A pleasure to meet you.”
Given Castian’s reputation for having no friends, much less a lover, Haggis’s surprise was understandable.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lydia.”
Haggis smiled warmly in return, his eyes crinkling so much that the violet all but disappeared.
After our brief greeting, he turned back to Castian.
“I hear you’re assembling another expedition.”
“Will the Imperial Mages participate this time?”
“We must remain in the palace to protect His Majesty, mustn’t we?”
So that was a no.
Imperial Mages were supposed to be the strongest in the Empire—just one or two could make a massive difference.
But apparently, like the Emperor, they preferred to let Castian do the hard work while they stayed behind.
I’d been ready to like Haggis based on appearances, but now… he was no better than Mikael.
Castian, unsurprised, merely replied:
“I expected as much.”
“We must be prepared for any eventuality,” Haggis added with a meaningful smile.
Any eventuality?
Did he mean if Castian failed—if the Demon King actually appeared?
Did he intend to face the Demon King himself? He didn’t look that confident… though maybe his confidence was well-founded.
Either way, I couldn’t understand his logic.
If you’re strong enough to help in a crisis, why not just help from the start?
“I wish you good fortune, Duke Bernstein.”
Haggis offered the blessing with a bright smile, gave me a polite nod, and walked away.
Was that really all he’d come to say? It wasn’t even the kind of veiled insult you could get annoyed about—it was just… nothing.
I watched him go and asked:
“Does he dislike you too?”
“It seems so.”
This time, Castian actually smiled faintly.
I sighed and turned toward the carriage. The sooner we left the palace, the better.
By the time we arrived back at the Bernstein estate, the defeated expedition party had already returned.
