CHAPTER 104………………………………
The late emperor died, leaving behind only a young son.
Even though Kyle was the rightful heir, not a single person objected when the younger brother ascended the throne.
That was all thanks to Duke Bacard. He had offered the guilt-ridden emperor a tea said to calm the mind and body.
When the emperor suffered from insomnia and hallucinations, the duke introduced him to a saintess who could keep him company.
Everything had unfolded so smoothly that there hadn’t even been room for suspicion.
Meanwhile, the emperor’s complexion grew paler each time he looked at Kyle.
At that moment, the emperor decided to use Kyle as a shield—to block Duke Bacard.
“Kyle, you’re right. The temple is a sacred place. We must return it to its original state.”
Kyle rose from his seat and bowed with proper decorum.
“For Bartmann, and for Your Majesty, I’ll do my utmost.”
Hearing Kyle’s oath of loyalty, the emperor felt his foul mood wash away—like lukewarm tea cleansing bitterness from the tongue.
Kyle himself had suggested distancing from the palace, and now he was even offering to confront the nobles directly. What could be better?
“I was terribly distressed after what happened in the council chamber. But speaking with you, Kyle… the heaviness seems to fade.”
“I’m glad, Your Majesty. The stronger you stand, the brighter the Empire of Bartmann will shine.”
Kyle had always obeyed imperial commands without defiance. Yet, in his eyes, there had always been a spark of anger.
But today he was different.
He spoke gently, his face calm—as if he and the emperor had long been close friends. His demeanor, perfectly balanced between modesty and confidence, pleased the emperor greatly.
Perhaps he had finally realized resistance was useless.
“Kyle, come to the council chamber tomorrow morning. No need to delay things further.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“The nobles won’t take this quietly. You’ve prepared for that, I hope?”
“Of course. But the Emperor of this Empire is none other than you.”
The emperor’s lips curled into a deep smile.
“Where to, my lord?”
“To Kiyor’s estate.”
The carriage didn’t stop at the entrance of the mansion but continued straight into the forested garden.
At the sound of hooves, Alfred emerged from a shabby shed.
“You’ve arrived, my lord Kyle.”
“The prisoners?”
“Under interrogation.”
“Learned anything?”
“Less than we hoped. They don’t seem to know much.”
“What do you mean, don’t know?”
“They operate in cells. Each member receives an assignment and a meeting point independently.”
“How do they get those assignments?”
“There’s a designated location, apparently.”
Listening to Alfred’s report, Kyle descended into the underground dungeon.
Rebel soldiers, hoods covering their faces, lay sprawled across the floor.
Kyle gestured to the knights to continue what they were doing.
“We met only that day! I swear! Please, believe us, sirs!”
“You’ve already said that. Why repeat it? Is that what someone told you to say?”
A dull thud echoed through the dungeon, followed by pained screams.
“Tell us how you receive your orders.”
The rebels glanced at one another, waiting for someone else to speak first.
With their vision obscured, their hearing sharpened—every groan felt like a blade against their nerves.
They wanted the pain to end, yet they couldn’t talk.
They all knew: if it ever got out that one of them had spoken, they’d be quietly killed—by someone they didn’t even know.
“Where and how do you exchange messages?”
The same question and the same blows repeated for a long while.
“I’ll tell you! Please… stop…”
A club clattered to the floor, and one man spoke between gasps.
“There’s a small gate on the east side of the capital. Near it—there’s a tavern. There…”
He hesitated mid-sentence.
What if someone in this very room was one of them?
The knight sighed and, picking the club back up, struck him several more times.
“I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything!”
As the man revealed the method of contact, Kyle’s lips curved into a sly smile.
Leaving the dungeon, Kyle walked toward the mansion with Alfred.
“Now that we know their method, we can become part of their network ourselves.”
“But, my lord, something bothers me. If what he said is true, then these so-called rebels…”
“…are likely just common thugs.”
“One of them said he’d joined a past protest but didn’t know who gave the orders. He said they didn’t care—as long as they got paid.”
Was the New Imperial Alliance even real?
Kyle recalled the conversation he’d overheard in the alleyway with Everett—it hadn’t sounded like rebels fighting against nobles.
“The New Imperial Alliance… quite the grand name.”
“We’ll find whoever’s behind it—who profits from chaos and fear.”
As Kyle boarded the carriage waiting at the estate gate, he said:
“Alf, I told the Emperor.”
“That you’ll become the High Priest…?”
Kyle nodded once.
“Did he believe you?”
“Of course not. He sees me as a hunting dog—to set against the nobles.”
“Will you be all right? The nobles won’t take this quietly.”
Alfred looked at him with concern.
“Don’t worry. I’m not the man I used to be.”
“Count Grozian seems absent today.”
“After yesterday’s commotion, it’s only proper he lies low for a few days.”
“Tsk, tsk. Should’ve checked the facts first. Thanks to him, we can’t bring up the private army issue for a while.”
As they waited for the Emperor, the nobles’ grumbling about Count Grozian didn’t cease.
A harsh cough echoed from beyond the opening door.
“Your Majesty, you’re early today—”
Their words froze mid-sentence.
For behind the Emperor walked Kyle.
“L-Lord Kyle? Why is he here?”
“Since when do the Emperor and Lord Kyle appear together? Weren’t they at odds?”
The murmuring nobles didn’t notice the faint smirk on Kyle’s lips.
The Emperor, seated now, gazed down at them and chuckled.
“What, is it so shocking that I entered with Duke Kyle? You all seem quite speechless.”
He laughed heartily.
Baron Akot leaned toward Duke Bacard and whispered:
“What is this scheme? The Emperor and Kyle—together?”
The nobles had tolerated Kyle’s existence only as a check against the Emperor.
But now that power had shifted to Duke Bacard, the grown-up Kyle had become a thorn in their side.
They’d taken comfort in the Emperor’s open hostility toward him.
And yet—here they were, entering the chamber side by side.
Some nobles who’d rarely seen Kyle up close couldn’t look away.
That blazing red hair, those deep green eyes with their chilling calm—
It felt as though Emperor Ruber himself had stepped out of the portrait hanging at the entrance.
Not just in looks, but even in aura—Kyle was his mirror.
At that moment, everyone in the room shared the same thought.
“Surprised enough? Then perhaps you’re ready to listen.”
The Emperor’s tone was thick with amusement.
“I’ve brought Duke Kyle here… to appoint him as the new High Priest.”
A shiver of silence swept through the chamber. Even the ever-stoic Duke Bacard’s eyes widened.
The nobles erupted in confused protest.
“Quiet, quiet. If you all talk at once, how am I to understand? There’s plenty of time—speak one at a time.”
He planned to throw any troublesome questions straight at Kyle. Perhaps that’s why he looked so relaxed—almost magnanimous.
“Your Majesty, the High Priest’s position has always been inherited by the Fenayor family.”
“Indeed.”
“No one outside the Fenayors has ever served as High Priest.”
“Indeed.”
The Emperor’s parrot-like replies felt like mockery.
“Then why… would Your Majesty change that now—and appoint a royal?”
“Then let me ask you this: why has the Fenayor family inherited that post?”
“That’s… well…”
“Has a saint or a holy one ever emerged from their line?”
“…”
The Emperor swept his gaze slowly across the nobles.
“Aren’t you curious? Why the Fenayor family monopolizes the temple?”
“Your Majesty, that’s simply how it’s always been since the temple was founded.”
The Emperor slammed his hand down on the armrest.
“So in the end—you admit no one knows why! You just follow tradition blindly?”
The nobles’ expressions turned sour, but none dared to answer.
Just as they were born nobles, the High Priesthood had always been the Fenayor family’s right.
“They say stagnant water rots.”
“Your Majesty, it’s the Temple of Anish! How could you…”
“You’re right—it is the temple. The holiest place in the Empire. And yet… is it truly holy?”
How many among them could confidently claim that it was?
Then—someone’s faint snicker pierced Kyle’s ear, swallowed quickly back into a throat gone dry.
