Ch.153The Declining Imperial Family (24)

Nothing remained.

At least, that’s how it appeared to the eye.

The space where lush grass should have been had transformed into a parched desert.

Only from the scattered stone fragments on the ground could one vaguely guess that walls had once stood here.

“Did I…?”

He stared at his small hands.

His pupils trembled, unable to focus properly.

He couldn’t believe he had done this himself.

Yet he couldn’t deny it either.

The dense magical energy lingering in the atmosphere unmistakably belonged to Ruide Christopher.

-How?

Only then did he recall what the self-proclaimed god had said.

He seemed genuinely curious.

How could this broken world possibly be restored?

“Then what happened to… everyone?”

He asked himself, but no answer came.

His legs trembled as he collapsed to the ground.

He felt dizzy, as if struck hard on the head with a hammer.

“I see you’ve regained consciousness.”

Just then, a familiar voice reached his ears.

Ruide’s eyes flew open as he turned his head.

There stood Rosalie, covered in wounds, her maid uniform half torn.

“Ro-Rosalie.”

Ruide staggered toward her with an expression like someone who had found salvation.

Rosalie caught his body. In that moment, he felt a profound sense of relief.

“Isn’t it…?”

Ruide smiled awkwardly.

“The-the others are alive, right?”

“……”

Seeing Ruide’s extreme anxiety, Rosalie slowly shook her head.

The smile gradually disappeared from Ruide’s face.

“Everyone’s dead?”

“No.”

Rosalie spoke with cold eyes.

“Most survived, including the Emperor. Though the northern walls of the territory have completely collapsed.”

It was the most welcome news he had heard in recent times.

‘So I didn’t destroy everything. It’s not too late.’

Ruide’s legs gave out, and he sank to the ground again.

“Thank goodness.”

He sighed with relief. With a slightly improved expression, he asked:

“So only the walls were destroyed?”

“That’s not quite right.”

Ruide’s body flinched.

“Huh?”

“Twenty-four times.”

“…?”

Rosalie spoke without emotion.

“You killed me twenty-four times.”

Her tone was casual, as if merely mentioning what she had for breakfast.

But the content was anything but.

“I… killed Rosalie?”

“I was the one who provoked you at the final moment. I understand.”

In Ruide’s wavering vision, he could see Rosalie’s appearance, which could hardly be considered normal.

Rosalie was someone who particularly loved cleanliness. She despised anything that compromised dignity, and even when participating in battle, she moved only within limits that wouldn’t allow blood to splatter.

He should have realized there was a reason for her disheveled state.

Or perhaps he had known but pretended not to.

But—

“…Tell me.”

He couldn’t just sit there quietly anymore.

“What I did. Everything, without omitting anything.”

Ruide had an obligation to know.

Rosalie observed him with interest.

‘This small human is trying to change. Everything is just as Irene said.’

“As soon as you saw Lady Amelia being attacked, you went berserk.”

Rosalie began her long story.

“First, you attacked the Gold Dragon, Oppenheimer. As expected, you overwhelmingly pushed back the dragon. A human defeating a dragon with magic—until a thousand years ago, it would have been unimaginable…”

“That’s enough of that.”

Rosalie politely bowed at the waist.

“Yes. I apologize.”

Was it because she had died twenty-four times?

She seemed more courteous than before.

“But a dragon is still a dragon. When defeat became certain, it fled without hesitation. Having lost your target, you fell into an even deeper state of frenzy and began destroying everything around you. In the process, you killed me twenty-four times. It was a single attack, but it counted twenty-four times. I’m certain that the most powerful Windsor in history is ‘Ruide when he loses his reason.'”

At this point, Ruide gave Rosalie a peculiar look.

Come to think of it, Rosalie had seemed to know something in those final moments.

She hadn’t warned him beforehand—

And because of that, this disaster had spread.

“Now that I think about it, Rosalie.”

Ruide scrutinized Rosalie with a chilling gaze.

Rosalie felt her body stiffen. It was an instinctive fear.

“I take back my earlier apology. You deserved to die.”

“…Yes.”

He considered getting angry, but…

‘…I’ll punish her later.’

In this situation, such things hardly mattered.

“Is that all?”

“No. Several people came forward to stop you when you went berserk.”

“…Who?”

His reason was gradually returning.

Cruelly enough, Ruide Christopher’s intellect was terrifyingly exceptional.

Even with just a bit of information, a picture was forming in his mind.

“Lady Amelia.”

“…Was that Damon’s order?”

Rosalie answered without hesitation.

“Yes. Principal Clifford instructed her to buy time while he cast a large-scale warp spell.”

“Is my sister… alive?”

“Fortunately, even in your frenzied state, you didn’t attack Lady Amelia. However, the wounds she had already sustained were fatal. After forcibly activating her magical power to attack you, eventually…”

A ringing sound echoed in his ears.

“Eventually?”

Rosalie spoke without hesitation.

“She died.”

**

Near dawn, as darkness gradually lifted.

At the peak of the Line Mountains, overlooking the entire empire, a woman in a black coat stood with her hands behind her back.

“Have you completed your mission, Margrave Sheffield?”

Irene Windsor’s clear voice spread through the dawn air.

From a place that hadn’t been there a moment ago, a wounded man staggered and fell.

“Or should I call you Oppenheimer?”

The man who fell helplessly was covered in wounds. He looked like he could barely survive.

She turned around and approached the man.

“How pitiful.”

She bit her thumb with some force.

Red blood dripped down. Irene sprinkled that blood onto the man.

As soon as the blood touched him, the man’s body glowed red, and he opened his eyes.

“…Sheffield is fine.”

“Yes, Margrave Sheffield.”

Sheffield slowly rose to his feet.

Irene, hands still behind her back, stepped back about two paces.

“With this, is the plan completely finished?”

“Before that, I’d like to ask one thing.”

Irene raised the corner of her mouth.

“As requested, did you properly lose to my brother?”

“…There was no need to pretend to lose. He was an overwhelmingly stronger opponent.”

A strange light filled Irene’s eyes.

Soon, her lips curved into a beautiful arc.

Unlike her previous artificial smiles, this one contained genuine sincerity.

“As expected, my brother is excellent.”

“However, there was a variable.”

“A variable?”

“The Imperial Academy Principal was stronger than anticipated.”

Sheffield recalled what had happened earlier.

The sky turning blood red—

An old man wielding a staff atop the wall.

Following the old man’s gestures, fireballs filling the sky danced. Perhaps the old man had personally blocked Ruide’s ice magic, which could have half-frozen the world.

Although it was said to be a final spell that risked his life, it was astonishing that an old man, merely human, could handle such power—even for a dragon.

“With such magic being cast from both sides, my senses were clouded, and eventually…”

Irene tilted her head.

“Eventually?”

“…I lost track of Amelia Windsor.”

Taking advantage of the chaos, the wounded Amelia was supported away by Hersy and Damon.

Sheffield, already fatally wounded at that point, couldn’t stop them. Being in his true form, he couldn’t see the small humans clearly.

“You had two requests. Kill Amelia Windsor… and play appropriately with your brother.”

“Yes. In return, I staked Dellin’s resurrection.”

“But I couldn’t keep my promise.”

For dragons, promises are absolute.

Both to themselves and to others.

“However, things flowed as you wanted. Ruide Christopher believes Amelia Windsor is dead.”

“You used Rosalie.”

“Yes. That vampire, too, has desires no less intense than mine.”

Irene smiled brightly, bringing her index finger to her lips.

For a moment, her expression suggested she was considering what to do next.

Sheffield, uncharacteristic for a Gold Dragon, broke into a cold sweat.

“Human.”

“Yes.”

“…Can you really bring Dellin back to life?”

“I believe I showed you the Dragon Heart.”

“Even with that, you can’t resurrect the dead.”

Coming from a dragon, it seemed credible.

But Irene knew this too.

Or more accurately—she simply didn’t want to use the Dragon Heart for something like reviving Dellin.

“I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

Irene looked in a particular direction.

“Kairon.”

As she gently called the name, a knight in black armor stepped forward.

It was perfect stealth, undetectable even to a dragon’s senses.

Sheffield’s eyebrows twitched.

“Who is he?”

“A Black Mage.”

“I know that much.”

Sheffield’s face immediately wrinkled.

“The stench is terrible.”

Though insulted, Kairon instead knelt on one knee before Sheffield.

“I am honored to meet such a great being.”

Sheffield, apparently quite displeased with Kairon, only looked at Irene.

“What does this mean?”

“He knows. The method to summon a person from 1,000 years ago back to this place.”

Dragons can easily detect human lies.

The same applied to Irene. She wasn’t lying right now.

“Is this true?”

“Yes. It is.”

Kairon raised his head.

“I’ve been preparing for a long time. To awaken my beloved teacher, Dellin.”

“You’re Dellin’s disciple?”

Resurrecting the dead is impossible even for dragons, who are considered the origin of magic.

The barrier of the 5th Magic is insurmountably high. Unless one is a god, it cannot be done.

But Sheffield immediately understood at the words “Dellin’s disciple.”

“As Dellin’s disciple, you’ll need conditions. Is that what I need to help with?”

“Yes. The three Holy Relics are needed.”

Sheffield frowned.

“That’s impossible…”

He stopped speaking and looked at Irene.

The three Holy Relics.

They refer to the three most symbolic items in human history.

The first is the Chalice of Mana.

An all-purpose device from which vast amounts of magical power endlessly flow.

The second is the Crown of the First Emperor.

A holy relic created by the only emperor who first conquered humanity, gathering all the empire’s resources.

The third is the Crystal of Mana. The contents held within the Chalice of Mana, now lost and no longer existing.

It is said that if these three holy relics come together, one can glimpse beyond the 5th Magic.

But that’s impossible. Because the third relic, the Crystal of Mana, has been lost.

“…I know the first is in Ruide Christopher’s possession.”

Sheffield approached Irene.

“The second must be with the Emperor. Given the situation, he would certainly use it.”

“The third is the Crystal of Mana. But it’s been lost for a long time. I saw it clearly with my own eyes. The crystal shattered into pieces. However… I’m certain of this. Irene Windsor. You know something.”

Irene simply smiled quietly and reached her hand into the void.

“My brother’s subspace is connected to the northern vault. As a Windsor, he can access the vault anytime.”

Space distorted.

Subspace, which only grand mages can use, manifested in this space.

‘So she could use magic too.’

Sheffield maintained an expressionless face but was inwardly greatly surprised.

“The Chalice of Mana is here.”

The Chalice of Mana emerged from Irene Windsor’s hand.

It was in a half-broken state.

Sheffield briefly exclaimed in admiration and clapped his hands.

With a snap, the Chalice of Mana slowly regained its original form.

With this, a complete Chalice of Mana could float in the void.

“This is—the Chalice of Mana.”

Seeing the holy relic he had so desperately sought right before his eyes, Kairon wore an ecstatic expression.

“And this—is something I learned about quite, quite by chance.”

Irene’s hand was still in the subspace.

She wore a strange smile.

“In the past, the first Duchess Dellin Windsor wanted her territory to be in a quiet place. To fulfill that wish, one of the three Holy Relics was absolutely necessary. Her wish was to sleep eternally in a quiet place.”

White smoke leaked from the subspace.

Kairon shrank back as soon as he touched the smoke.

It was a chill that seemed to penetrate to the bone.

“But she feared the Emperor would take the holy relic from her. After much deliberation, she melted the original third Holy Relic, the ‘Crystal of Mana,’ and forged it into a sword. That is—”

A majestic form gradually revealed itself to the world.

“Winter.”

As Irene uttered briefly, a blue crystalline sword emerged into the world.

The floor froze solid from the chill that flowed out.

Sheffield and Kairon stared at the beautiful sword for a long time with dazed expressions.

Holding the sword, Irene shifted her gaze back beyond the cliff.

Exactly in the direction of the empire.

Slowly pointing the sword straight ahead, she said:

“Now, only the Crown of the First Emperor remains.”

Gold Dragons can see clearly into human minds.

Yet Sheffield couldn’t tell.

What she was thinking, or what her goal was.