Ch.271271. Imperial Palace (2)

“…If I may speak frankly, Lord Marquis.”

Count Rebel spoke, barely managing to compose his trembling body.

The mustache he had clearly taken great pains to cultivate was quivering pitifully, but Bogart Marquis decided not to mention it aloud.

It was evident that he had not yet recovered from the trauma of being stripped naked and hung upside down from his castle spire a few days ago.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“…”

Receiving such abuse from a patient was certainly a novel experience.

Bogart Marquis scratched his head and awkwardly began to speak.

“What’s the problem, Rebel?”

What’s the problem?

Seriously?

Count Rebel shot Bogart Marquis a look filled with a thousand curses, but the other man simply shrugged his shoulders and pretended not to notice, as he always did.

The surprising thing was that the clownish smile he usually wore had disappeared, but the matter before them was too important to worry about such details.

“You want to have a meeting with the Emperor and the Chancellor.”

“Yes.”

“The situation is already precarious. If you request a conference, the outcome is painfully obvious!”

It was hardly an appropriate tone to use with a superior, but it was something that couldn’t be left unsaid.

Because of that Darwood Campbell, who deserved to be eaten alive, their plan to mobilize large forces and occupy the imperial palace had been thwarted.

Since he was close to both the Chancellor and the Emperor, there was no way that information hadn’t been shared.

“On the contrary.”

However, Bogart Marquis responded in an even voice.

“We haven’t yet committed any acts deserving of major sanctions from them.”

Ridiculous as it sounds.

Thanks to Darwood Campbell doing his job too well, their attempt at civil war had ended before it even began.

They could be held accountable for that, but it meant formal “punishment” was impossible.

“We can still play the game of pretense. We can at least present our demands.”

“Demands? For people who tried to start a war, such a moderate approach—”

“They’ll listen.”

He said with a bitter smile.

“Because it’s not a one-sided demand, but a trade. We just need to offer something in return.”

Count Rebel’s mouth snapped shut.

His eyes carefully studied Bogart’s face, as if trying to read the underlying atmosphere.

“…Lord Marquis.”

Though he was a detestable superior, Count Rebel had served this man for over ten years.

That meant he could easily detect subtle “differences” in his demeanor.

And from that perspective.

Bogart Marquis’s current state was, well.

Like.

A kind of “resolution” of someone about to face something significant.

“…Are you alright?”

The question contained so many implied meanings that he asked it without thinking.

Bogart Marquis’s movements froze the moment he heard it.

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, Rebel?”

After a brief silence, those words came with his usual frivolous smile.

But.

But, how should I put it.

It felt like something said to “reassure” him.

That kind of dissonance.

However, before he could delve deeper into that feeling, Bogart Marquis changed the subject.

“More importantly, I’d like to hear about Nicholas.”

“…”

As soon as he heard those words, a look of disgust crept across Count Rebel’s face.

His expression clearly showed that he didn’t even want to discuss that topic.

“…According to my aide, they’re somehow keeping him ‘subdued’.”

“Is he being managed well?”

“We’ve filled the place with people who wouldn’t be missed if they died. They’re all death row inmates convicted of serious crimes, though occasionally some end up as ‘food’.”

“I see.”

“…Wouldn’t it be better to just dispose of it? That thing isn’t even human anymore.”

It was hardly something one would say about a former senior member of their faction.

But Count Rebel’s voice was deadly serious as he spoke.

As if his opinion of “that thing” once called Count Nicholas couldn’t possibly be any worse.

“Well. We can’t do that.”

But Bogart Marquis replied in a casual voice.

“…It’s the final gift I must give to Darwood Campbell.”

In many ways, that was true.

That man was surely plotting to kill them twice over.

So.

“We need to wrap it nicely.”

To create.

A rather interesting situation.

●

“…A conference?”

I give a dumbfounded response to the words that flew at me the moment I saw the Chancellor.

I didn’t feel particularly embarrassed. Even Sullivan, who had brought it up, looked uncertain.

“That’s what they’ve requested.”

“…”

“They specifically asked for you to be included.”

I fall silent as I follow the Chancellor, traversing the palace corridors at a frightening speed.

It seems he kidnapped me as soon as I arrived through the portal and is dragging me to the meeting hall.

“…Seeing how I’m being dragged away as soon as I arrived at the palace, it seems His Majesty and the Chancellor have already accepted.”

“We hold the initiative. There’s no reason to refuse.”

That makes sense. In the current situation, neither His Majesty nor the Chancellor have anything to lose.

Which makes it even more confusing.

Why would someone who should be avoiding us reach out first?

Bogart Marquis. I really don’t understand what he’s thinking.

“…”

And in my experience.

When someone does something incomprehensible to everyone else, it’s usually one of two things.

[Either they’re crazy, or they have another card to play.]

‘…But even with another card…’

The only move they could make in this situation is a ‘last-minute reversal.’

Eliminating the opposing leadership—the aftermath would be chaotic, but it’s better than losing now.

In normal circumstances, it’s actually quite a good alternative.

If only the location weren’t the imperial palace.

‘There’s the Sword Saint here.’

[…That’s true.]

No matter what kind of violent situation arises, there’s a deterrent that can crush it instantly.

He’s a man who can suppress even a Demonic Vessel within a fixed location. He’s practically invincible in battles within a defined area.

His Majesty and the Chancellor probably accepted the proposal knowing this.

No matter how I look at it, the other side has no way to land an effective blow against us.

“We’ve arrived.”

That sentence came as I was continuing these thoughts.

I stop walking as Sullivan halts in front of a large door.

“…”

And anyway.

If the situation is unpredictable, there’s only one solution.

To face it head-on.

‘Surely…’

Even if the ‘war’ was entirely skipped, the boss battle must still remain.

So, logically.

Chapter 5, The Great Imperial Turmoil.

Entering the abbreviated branch.

And the event leading to the final ‘boss battle’ is right here.

“Are you ready, Darwood?”

“…”

I take a deep breath.

Ready or not.

I can’t avoid it anyway.

“…Let’s go.”

Alright.

Let’s do this.

●

“…What could Bogart Marquis be thinking?”

Victoria spoke in a subdued voice.

At the end of her gaze was the corridor through which Darwood had just been led by Sullivan.

While Darwood was summoned inside the palace, she and the other Demonic Vessels were waiting outside like this.

“Though we only met as employer and contractor, he didn’t seem like a stupid man.”

It was almost a soliloquy, and she hadn’t expected any profound discussion or intelligent response.

“Are you talking to me…?”

“…”

This is a bit much.

Victoria narrowed her eyes at the voice that contained not even a fingernail’s worth of intelligence or logic.

Meanwhile, that voice continued.

“V-Victoria. You spoke to me fir-“

“…Please calm down, Serath.”

Victoria intercepted, rubbing her throbbing forehead.

“…We can’t avoid talking forever.”

Though her tone was brusque, it clearly contained a willingness to converse.

Well.

At the very least, they could develop some sense of camaraderie from having both been molested by that damn pervert. Though she would certainly need to question her about the ‘past’ at some point.

As soon as she heard these words that clearly revealed a change of heart, Serath’s expression brightened considerably.

“Don’t misunderstand. This isn’t a declaration that I want to be friends with you.”

“Yes! Thank you!”

“My goal of killing you is still valid-“

“Yes! I’ll try my best to die for you!”

“…”

Instead of continuing, Victoria sighed deeply and turned her head upward.

She didn’t want to face Serath, whose eyes were twinkling to an uncomfortable degree.

And.

It was thanks to that that she first discovered ‘it’.

“…Huh?”

Needless to say, the imperial palace has multiple entrances.

And where Victoria looked up, there was a door connected to the corridor through which Darwood had just disappeared.

Something was being transported along that route. A metal box being carried by people with tense expressions. It was wrapped in all kinds of sealing formulas and chains.

It was an unusual sight in the palace, so she stared at it blankly.

Through the hairline gaps on the outside of the box, something could be seen moving.

And at the edge of her vision, briefly glimpsed.

‘Something’ completely wrapped in bandages and wearing a hood.

“…”

Just a glance in that direction.

And every hair on her body stood on end.

“…!”

Victoria jumped up in alarm, drawing the attention of not only Serath beside her but everyone else as well.

But Victoria had no time to worry about them.

“…I need to get in there.”

Instead, she uttered those words in a trembling voice.

“Please make way! I need to go where that man is!”

“But orders are for everyone except the participants to wait here—”

“Can’t we just ignore that?”

“…”

It was a ‘recommended course of action’ that came directly from the conference participants. To blatantly ignore it meant simultaneously disregarding the authority of the Emperor and the Chancellor.

Is she in her right mind?

Such gazes flew from all directions, but Victoria gritted her teeth and continued.

“…We can deal with that somehow later…”

She pointed at the corridor through which the metal box had just passed.

“It’s better than sending that thing straight to Mr. Darwood!”

It was clearly a statement filled with sincerity.

Of course, the Sword Saint is in the conference room.

The casual attitude of those around probably stems from that fact.

But her instinct was screaming.

‘If they let that in…!’

In any situation.

No matter what that man can do. No matter what abilities he can wield.

Darwood will die.

Inevitably.