Aldehyde wore a murderous expression, the kind that made it seem as though he might strike someone down at any moment.
But in truth, his mind was caught on a single image—endlessly replaying the sight of the woman in the gray robe.
The moment their eyes had met, his heart had skipped a beat.
He had always made a habit of checking the face beneath any gray hood he saw. This time had been no different…
“Where did the civilians from earlier get moved to?” Aldehyde asked.
“They were taken to the temporary shelter. They should be receiving treatment by now… Huh? W-wait, where are you going?”
Paul’s answer barely left his lips before Aldehyde was already striding away. His steps carried him swiftly, his purpose urgent.
In mere seconds, he reached the shelter.
Bang!
The door burst open with a violent slam.
…Could it be her?
His lashes trembled as he lowered them, then rose again. His chest was tight, as though something vital inside was struggling to break free.
Otherwise, why did his heart race so violently?
He swept his gaze across the room—ignoring Paul, who came running up behind him.
But the shelter was empty.
“…Why is there no one here?”
Paul staggered in, bent over, panting.
“What on earth—what are you looking for that you’re running around so frantically today?”
“Where did everyone go?”
“The poison butterfly was too dangerous. After evacuating them here, they were divided by symptoms and transferred to the treatment ward. Why? Who exactly are you looking for?”
“I saw a woman. She wore a gray robe.”
At Aldehyde’s flat words, Paul’s face went pale.
“Ah, here we go again. The gray robe…”
He sighed, then burst out like a machine gun.
“My lord, why is it that every time you see someone in a gray robe—whether it’s on the battlefield, in the middle of a rift, or even at the imperial palace—you rush off like a mad dog? What even is that?”
“What are you saying?”
Aldehyde’s cold, violet eyes cut toward him.
Paul flinched. Oh no. I just called him a mad dog to his face.
Well—everyone called him that, didn’t they?
Still, guilt twisted his stomach. He dropped to the ground in a hasty bow.
“I—I apologize, my lord. It was a slip of the tongue!”
“…I suppose I am a fool.”
“Eh? I mean—uh—what?”
Aldehyde’s tone was soft, but the teeth clenched behind it were anything but.
“What I mean is… like a mad dog, there is something I want to chase. Something I want to find.”
His jaw tightened. His voice dropped low.
“Move. We’re finding the gray robe.”
“Huh? N-no, you don’t mean John from the capital again, do you—”
But Aldehyde had already decided. If there was even a one percent chance that the robed woman was her… then he would hunt her down.
He really is dangerous.
Watching Aldehyde annihilate the poison butterfly in an instant had been enough to seal my decision.
‘I have to face him directly.’
Unlike the civilians who were taken to the ward, I quietly slipped back toward the Vietri estate. I needed time to think.
His strength was overwhelming. And to think he could unleash it like that—sudden, explosive, devastating.
Even if he served the Empire now, what if one day he turned that power toward evil?
“I’ve grown too complacent, lulled by the flowery letters Pupu’s been sending lately. I should have looked into him sooner.”
Uncovering Aldehyde’s true identity and his real purpose—this would be the last good deed I left behind before I died.
From that day forward, I began quietly gathering information. But even Bell and the Information Guild came up short.
“Aldehyde appeared out of nowhere. Now he serves as commander of the Imperial Knights and has even been granted the title of Grand Duke.”
“And?”
“There are whispers that he’s dangerous—an omnipotent force beyond even the Emperor’s control.”
“Anything else?”
“…Nothing. Truly. It seems no one outside his inner circle knows a single thing about him.”
No matter how hard I searched, the trail was barren. Only one path remained.
I would infiltrate the Imperial Knights myself and conduct a direct investigation.
But even that plan met a wall.
With rifts breaking out across the capital, the Knights had tightened entry. Not even the head of House Vietri could bypass the restrictions.
That was when I spotted it—on the bulletin board outside the Knights’ headquarters:
[Recruitment Notice]
The Imperial Knights are seeking Stability Magicians.
Status does not matter. We recognize only one thing:
The ability to stabilize others.
“…So they only care about skill?”
A spark of an idea struck me.
My life after regression had been calmer than before, almost dull. But Aldehyde’s appearance had tilted that calm into something strange, unpredictable.
Meanwhile, in the imperial palace reception room—
Aldehyde leaned against his chair, glaring at the Emperor.
“Old man. Stop bothering me.”
“But Gong,” the Emperor whimpered, “Jim worries so for your health!”
He pushed a rectangular magical tool into Aldehyde’s hand.
This device displayed the “rampage level” of powerholders.
As soon as it touched Aldehyde’s skin, a number flickered across its surface.
80%.
The Emperor’s face collapsed in despair.
“This… this can’t be! Eighty percent? At that level you could lose control at any moment!”
Aldehyde’s brows furrowed at the hysterics.
“If I feel like going mad, I’ll just head to the mountains and go mad there.”
“That’s not the point! When Gong suffers, Jim’s heart breaks!”
“Then let it break. I’m busy. I’ll take care of the crack—just get me more tranquilizers.”
“But overdosing on tranquilizers will only harm you! Gong, I’ll gather the finest stability magicians in the Empire! If you would only imprint with one—”
“Imprinting, huh…? They’d need to be stronger than me to even qualify.”
For ordinary holders of power, any stable magician could calm them. But for someone like Aldehyde, only a magician of equal strength—and compatible resonance—could imprint and anchor him.
The problem was obvious.
“There isn’t a single high-level magician in the Empire who meets the criteria.”
The Emperor sagged in despair.
But Aldehyde only shrugged.
“That’s fine.”
His gaze drifted, as it so often did, to his wrist.
The same wrist that had glowed red, throbbing, the day he first met his sister.
He hadn’t understood it then. He did now.
That was the mark of imprinting—an indelible bond between the powerful and the stabilizer.
And unless the extraordinary happened, those marks allowed them to recognize one another instantly.
Which meant… when he met her again, he would know.
“I don’t need your magicians. I have things to do. Doll clothes to make.”
“…What doll?”
From his pocket, Aldehyde pulled out a stuffed bear. Its nose was sewn where its eyes should be. Its mouth was missing entirely.
“How about this teddy bear, old man? Cute, isn’t it?”
“…Cute?”
“I made it myself. Precious, right?”
The Emperor stared, aghast.
“This… this is cursed! Who would dare swindle the Empire’s hero with such a kit? Tell me who sold this to you—I’ll see them punished!”
Aldehyde’s eyes darkened. He cupped the bear’s ears protectively.
“Careful. My precious bear is listening.”
“P-precious…?”
“I said, it’s cute.”
“….”
“Anyway, old man, I’m leaving.”
“Where to, Gong?”
“Shadow Street.”
“Not again! Why?”
“The dragon’s says one’s going to open there today.”
Bang.
The door slammed shut.
The Emperor stared at it in silence, despair etched deep into his face.
Aldehyde’s levels had climbed into dangerous territory. At any moment, he could spiral into madness.
The Empire stood on the edge, propped up only by one man’s terrifying strength.
And if that strength turned on them… there would be nothing left.
The Emperor pressed his hands together and prayed.
“Please… someone, anyone. Let a savior fall from the sky—someone who can calm him…”
