Chapter 68
Everett held out Yenkeller’s handkerchief, freshly washed, and said,
“Here it is. Thank you for letting me use it, Lord Yenkeller. I washed it spotlessly clean.”
But Yenkeller didn’t take it. He just looked down at it in silence.
“Lord Yenkeller?”
Letting out a dry breath, he decided he couldn’t go on like this today. Then, with the same gentle smile as always, Yenkeller asked,
“Everett, can I ask you one favor?”
“What kind of favor?”
“At tomorrow’s banquet… I’d like to be your first dance partner.”
“Of course. You’re the only young gentleman I know, Lord Yenkeller. I’ll be going with Lady Charlotte, but I can’t exactly dance with her.”
At that, Yenkeller finally laughed out loud.
After meeting Alfred and returning to the imperial palace, Kyle lay down on his bed and simply waited for nightfall.
Since he didn’t often stay at the palace, the bedding was practically brand new. It crinkled noisily every time he shifted.
The sound irritated him, and so he rose and looked out the window.
The palace was bustling in preparation for the banquet.
Except for the wing where Kyle stayed, the rest of the imperial palace was brightly lit. The grand, ornate imperial library—one of the Bartmann Empire’s prides—stood nearby, as always cloaked in darkness.
Unlike Kyle’s father, the current emperor worshiped the sword more than books. Naturally, the nobles also frequented the training grounds far more than the library.
The library was nearly always deserted, but the day before a banquet it was emptier than ever. With its doors shut at night, the place was more than eerie—it was terrifying.
As heavy darkness sank, even the maids who usually scurried about were nowhere in sight.
“…Time to move.”
He changed into comfortable clothes so that, if anyone saw him, he could claim he was only out for a walk, and then left his room.
As Kyle walked toward the library, he let out a deep sigh.
The emperor, who looked at him with disapproval. The nobles, eager only to exploit him. And the servants and maids, who—even though of lower status—regarded him with pity and contempt.
The only place free of such gazes was the library.
“Your Excellency.”
As he neared the library entrance, a black figure stepped out from behind a column.
The man knelt on one knee before him.
“Ventus, at your service.”
He was a knight Alfred had sent to protect Kyle.
“You’ve heard what I’m after?”
“Yes, your safety and—”
“Safety, we’ll each see to ourselves.”
“Yes, sir. My orders are to protect you from danger, and at the same time, to find the architectural blueprints.”
“You never change, no matter how much time passes.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
Kyle shook his head and ordered the library doors opened.
Inside, it was pitch-black.
He took out the light stone Yenkeller had given him and rubbed it. It wasn’t very bright, but gave off just enough glow to faintly reveal the surroundings.
“You said we need to go underground. But… does this library even have a basement, sir?”
Ventus tilted his head.
“It used to. They sealed off the way down, so no one knows of it now.”
Kyle strode confidently to the innermost part of the library.
There stood a statue shaped like a tower of stacked books.
“Precious things are always kept deep underground.”
He pressed hard on one of the protruding books, and the entire pillar rotated with a grinding sound, shifting to one side.
Ventus’s eyes widened as the floor beneath revealed a narrow opening, just large enough for a grown man to pass through, with an old wooden staircase descending below.
“This is the way down to the basement.”
“I never knew such a place existed… How do you know of it, sir?”
“Because I’ve been there.”
Kyle descended first.
The staircase, unused for ages, creaked and broke in several places where the wood had rotted.
“Were there really books kept down here?”
The basement was surprisingly large.
At the bottom, a straight corridor stretched out, leading to an even wider passage.
“The places with different-colored plaster—that’s where they sealed the entrances.”
The corridor walls were painted with murals of ancient tomes, though faded and crumbling. The mismatched plaster revealed the blocked-off doorways.
“That’s right. The one I entered was the room at the very end.”
“It must’ve been magnificent once, even if it’s dilapidated now.”
“Originally it was a depository for rare works. And the entrance wasn’t only under that statue. Now it’s little more than a disused storeroom.”
As Kyle said, there was a small opening at the bottom of the room’s entrance wall.
Ventus tapped it lightly, and chunks of the old mud wall crumbled away.
“A punch would break it down quickly.”
Rolling up his sleeves, Ventus stepped forward. Kyle tossed a few more light stones onto the floor and backed away.
With each thud, dust billowed until the entire corridor was thick with it.
“Cough—! The dust is awful. Please be careful, sir!”
Kyle handed him a handkerchief.
“Cover your nose and mouth.”
While Ventus tied it over his face, Kyle slipped into the unsealed room first.
Dozens of bookshelves stood in rows, stacked not only with books but countless scrolls of parchment.
Were there always this many?
He remembered this place as a cozy, secret hideout. But back then, with a child’s eyes, he could never have seen it clearly.
“Wow… this is incredible.”
Ventus pulled out a few volumes, their covers buried under thick dust, and shook his head in disbelief.
“I’ll search this side. We’re looking for anything resembling a blueprint, yes?”
Kyle nodded.
The two set to work, each taking a shelf.
Every time they opened a book or parchment, black dust scattered into the air.
“This must be it.”
Before long, Kyle unfolded a thin sheet of parchment, riddled with small holes.
“You found it?”
It was a floor plan of part of the palace, though faded and unclear.
“It doesn’t look very special…”
Kyle held the light stone beneath it. Hidden markings appeared.
“The walls are drawn double… It’s a secret passage.”
“Oh! Then this corridor leads to His Majesty’s study, doesn’t it?”
“Correct. But where does the passage itself lead?”
The drawing only showed a portion of the corridor outside the study.
“It’s not unfinished—it looks cut, as if the rest was sliced off.”
Kyle studied the parchment closely, while Ventus hurriedly shook out more books.
“I’ll search for the rest of the blueprint.”
The passage was real. Now they had to discover exactly where it led.
“Sir, opposite His Majesty’s study is his bedchamber. Could the passage connect there?”
“We’ll know once we find the rest.”
Now that their goal was clear, their search quickened.
With no ventilation in the sealed basement, sweat ran down their foreheads, mixing with dust and sticking thickly to their faces.
Both Kyle and Ventus kept wiping their brows as they worked in the stifling heat.
Kyle moved toward a shelf in the corner.
“What’s this…?”
Something wrapped in black cloth was wedged in a narrow gap beside the shelf.
“It doesn’t look like a book…”
It crumbled at his touch. Unwrapping the decayed cloth revealed a faded canvas.
“A portrait?”
As Kyle studied it, his eyes widened.
“…Anish…?”
Unknowingly, he spoke the name of the goddess Anish.
“Aaagh!”
Suddenly, pain like his skull was splitting tore through his head.
Startled by his scream, Ventus rushed over.
“Sir! What’s wrong?!”
But Kyle couldn’t answer. He collapsed to the floor, Ventus’s urgent voice growing distant.
“Where is this? I… was in the library basement.”
Thick fog surrounded Kyle as he stood alone.
He waved his hand through it, but the mist only closed again like something alive.
“An illusion? Or a dream?”
He began walking, unsure where his steps led, only knowing he couldn’t just stand still.
Then he remembered—the canvas, and the agony that had struck him when he saw it.
“Did I faint from the pain and fall into a dream?”
For the past year, Kyle had been plagued with strange dreams.
Vivid at first, they always turned hazy upon waking, and left him with a splitting headache.
But having repeated them so often, he began to sense a pattern—most dreamscapes were oddly similar.
“This place, though… I don’t think it’s appeared in my dreams before.”
Just then, from somewhere in the fog, came the low, heartrending sound of a man’s weeping.
Kyle turned toward it at once.
Though it seemed close, he walked a long time before the fog thinned, revealing a man’s back.
The man’s shoulders shook beneath a crimson cloak.
“Kh…!”
Kyle instinctively clutched his chest. The raw grief in that cry seemed to squeeze his heart.
“Who are you?”
He stepped closer, but the man didn’t stir.
As the mist cleared completely—
Blood!
A wide pool of blood spread beneath the man’s crimson cloak. Kyle couldn’t tell whether the cloak was dyed red from the start or soaked through with blood.
