Chapter Index





    “This is child abuse.”

    “You’re not good at jokes. How are you a child in any way?”

    “The age gap between you, Professor, and me is bigger than that between most grandmothers and granddaughters. Wouldn’t even a court define this as child abuse?”

    The language of the elderly is difficult to understand. Language ability is directly connected to brain development, and even the sharpest minds cannot withstand the ravages of time. That’s why elderly people tend to ramble on and suddenly veer off topic.

    In that sense, Alexandra Petrovna was deeply concerned about her disciple’s mental health.

    This young thing, with her lip jutting out a foot just because she got a light knock on the head. Even bringing up age to her mentor who was like the heavens above?

    “Your manners are like a three-year-old dwarf’s drunken rant. What sin did I commit to the ancestral shrine to receive such a troublesome child as my disciple?”

    “You must have accumulated good karma.”

    “Oh my… if only you couldn’t speak.”

    The elder of the Smirnoff Imperial family and acknowledged grand magician of the Tower, the Grand Duchess of the Kiyen Empire, was getting a headache from the whining of Camilla, who was about 80 years her junior.

    Whether she cared or not, Camilla merely turned her chin away with a prim expression.

    All while sporting several apple-sized lumps dangling from the crown of her head.

    “Hmph!”

    That prim defiance made the mentor, who was over 100 years old, reflect on herself.

    Perhaps I should throw her into the human reformation furnace one more time. Maybe I should have put more magical power into that knock earlier.

    The novice professor felt as if the world was crumbling. That was why the Grand Duchess could only heave a deep sigh.

    “Already worried, I see.”

    “…?”

    “I wonder what my old friend will say when they see this.”

    Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife?

    As with all authoritarian regimes, prestige and face are important virtues in Ashtistan. Especially for public officials of the republic government.

    The customs of the Moritani continent, where honor is more precious than life, certainly contributed to the culture that values prestige and face, but the most important reason lay in the history and politics that form the foundation of Ashtistan.

    Therefore, even while passing through the lavishly decorated palace corridors, I couldn’t help but reflect on this country’s history.

    *

    “Your Highness, may I introduce the palace to our foreign guests?”

    An elderly lady in traditional clothing addressed the Grand Duchess.

    The Azadi (آزادی) Palace in Shizya, the capital of Ashtistan, has a unique structure. The inner palace and the outer palace.

    Usually, the inner palace refers to where the empress or queen resides, but here, the inner palace has a somewhat special meaning.

    If we compare it to the White House or the Blue House, the outer palace would be an area where visitors can enter. Conversely, the inner palace is where VIPs actually stay, an area inaccessible to anyone who isn’t a civil servant.

    The interesting fact is that in Shizya’s Azadi Palace, even civil servants cannot freely enter the inner palace. Outer palace staff and inner palace staff are separately distinguished, and even the guard units are divided by affiliation.

    The elderly lady was a public official who worked in that very “inner palace.”

    Unlike the people who had guided us from the entrance.

    “A tour? Is there any need for that?”

    “Since you have a long journey ahead, I was concerned you might get bored.”

    The Grand Duchess nodded, and the guide, having obtained permission, asked in a gentle, respectful tone.

    “Hero, are you familiar with the history of Ashtistan?”

    “I know a little. It wasn’t an in-depth reading, but I stopped by the library before coming and skimmed through it.”

    “I see. Then do you also know the name of this palace where you are now?”

    As if to prove she wasn’t lying, Camilla’s voice came out with a slight but confident tone.

    “The Azadi (آزادی) Palace. Is that right?”

    “Correct. The oldest building in Shizya and a symbol of Ashtistan’s legitimacy that has continued from the old dynasty. That is the Azadi Palace.”

    Ashtistan under the old dynasty was by no means a good country, even in flattery.

    Taking advantage of the Tower-Order War, when the waves of revolution were in full swing, it succeeded in modernization.

    But when international sanctions against the Tower, represented by the Nastasiya Treaty, were imposed, many countries on the Moritani continent that had pushed for modernization fell into debt.

    In that chaotic era.

    Ashtistan was one of the few countries on the Moritani continent that achieved modernization.

    “Shizya is a city with a deep history even in the Red Desert. It’s a place where past and present coexist.”

    The guide continued her explanation while calmly walking.

    “Foreign powers have never set foot on this land, not even for a moment, and Shizya was the first to bloom civilization on the soil of peace. The Azadi Palace symbolizes precisely that history.”

    However, the unstable economic situation sparked civil war, and civil wars in neighboring countries created millions of refugees.

    It was only natural for people who had lost their homes to dream of an “American Dream.” Seven million citizens took to the road of refuge, and of those, 1.9 million refugees flocked to the borders.

    “The peace of Shizya has continued for a long time. It has never fallen, despite the prolonged civil wars of neighboring countries and numerous wars with foreign nations. Because of the holy site of Al-Yabd, Shizya was known as the embodiment of the Earth Mother Goddess, and those tired of fighting sought this place.”

    At first, Ashtistan did not reject the refugees either.

    Believers of Al-Yabd were considered blood brothers and sisters.

    The old dynasty, as devout believers in the Earth Mother Goddess, opened their borders for those whose lives were in danger, and over six years, they accepted 570,000 refugees.

    The problem was that protests came from neighboring governments.

    The reason was that “rebel leaders” who had fled to Ashtistan were directing rebel forces from refugee camps.

    Of course, the Kingdom of Ashtistan didn’t even snort in response.

    “With various ethnicities and races mixing, there must have been some discomfort… Were there no such problems?”

    When the English girl asked in a seemingly calm voice, the Ashtistan guide smiled like a picture.

    “It was always crowded with people, but laughter never left Shizya for a moment.”

    “Is that so?”

    “Ashtistan has always been plagued by external threats. But enemies are not always external. Similarly, friends are always friends, whether they are far or near.”

    This wasn’t limited to humans. Dark elves, dwarves, beastkin, orcs, goblins, and so on. Those living in the Red Desert and the Great Plains could always be friends to one another.

    That was precisely why the guide pointed to the display cases set up at regular intervals.

    “These artifacts you see were presented by dark elves who traveled to and from the East in ancient times. The marble tiles and pillars on the floor were also brought from famous mountains in the distant East by a delegation 860 years ago.”

    “Oh…”

    “Since ancient times, Ashtistan has been a strategic point and gateway to the East, so it’s no exaggeration to say that all envoys, merchants, and travelers who passed through Shizya were our friends. That’s also why Shizya could enjoy freedom and prosperity.”

    It was an absurd claim, and numerous governments in the international community came to Ashtistan’s defense.

    From the Kingdom of Abbas to the Kiyen Empire, and even the Republic of Fatalia during its monarchy.

    Even distant countries from the East unanimously supported the Kingdom of Ashtistan.

    However.

    When the special envoy of the Rushan Federation to the World Union exposed “the Ashtistan intelligence agency supporting rebel forces in refugee camps,”

    The civil wars surrounding the Moritani continent entered a new phase.

    “In that sense, the 1,300-year history preserved by the Azadi (آزادی) Palace symbolizes not only the peace of Ashtistan but also its prosperity. Thus, a Fatalian painter who visited Shizya in the 16th century completed ‘From Above the Sun Palace,’ expressing eternity and immortality.”

    A massive spire was visible between the columns of the gallery. The guide added that this was where the Fatalian master had stayed until he completed his painting.

    “The Sun Palace…”

    Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrovna gazed at the spire with a somewhat wistful look.

    “A masterpiece that led the 16th-century art renaissance. It’s displayed in the Fatalia National Museum. Child, have you seen it?”

    “No?”

    Camilla looked at the Grand Duchess again as if seeing her in a new light. Her eyes seemed to ask if she had an appreciation for art.

    To this, the grand magician began by saying it was obvious.

    “How could you not know? It once hung in my room.”

    “Come on~ Stop joking. How could you have something from a foreign national museum in your room? Unless you stole it and returned it.”

    “…”

    The grand magician averted her gaze. Seeing this, the English girl tilted her head in puzzlement.

    “…You didn’t, did you?”

    “Stole? That would be a misunderstanding… I merely borrowed it for a while from my friend’s family collection through a fair bet.”

    “What kind of bet?”

    “…I believe it was horse racing…?”

    “…”

    “…It was something from my youth.”

    A deep sigh. Her disciple’s tired voice changed the subject. The guide, as if she hadn’t heard anything, continued.

    “‘From Above the Sun Palace,’ which was part of the Ranieri family collection, is considered one of the representative works that opened the renaissance of 16th-century art. The view of the Azadi Palace and Shizya from the spire prominently expressed the status of the ‘Kingdom of Ashtistan,’ which had ruled the Red Desert for thousands of years.”

    The reputation of the old dynasty that had ruled Ashtistan for thousands of years plummeted in an instant.

    Because they had exploited the tragedy of brothers and sisters to instigate conflict, they were no longer recognized as family.

    Because they had exploited the civil wars of neighboring countries to extort interests behind the scenes, their credibility was rated worse than a scrap of paper.

    Many international organizations and volunteer groups that had supported refugees condemned the Kingdom of Ashtistan for using refugees as meat shields, and domestic and foreign media outlets that covered the civil wars exposed the directives exchanged between the Kingdom of Ashtistan and the rebels.

    From a devout neighbor to an immoral thug. That’s how the successful role model of the Moritani continent was thrown into the gutter.

    “From ancient times to the modern era, Shizya has always existed as a corridor where the kingdoms of the Moritani continent gather, and as expressed in ‘From Above the Sun Palace,’ the glory of Ashtistan extended to every corner of the Moritani continent.”

    “…”

    “It was precisely because of this background that Ashtistan was described as the ‘Empire of the Desert’ in ancient texts.”

    No one knows on what grounds the old dynasty of Ashtistan supported the rebels.

    However, they were cornered.

    The civil wars in neighboring countries would not end quickly.

    And even if peace came, the neighboring countries that had already turned their backs would never again extend trust to them.

    This was crystal clear.

    In the end, the old dynasty of Ashtistan was at a crossroads.

    Should they acknowledge all taboos and walk the thorny path waiting for peace that might never come?

    Or should they stick to their choices to the end, even if it meant turning everyone into enemies?

    The path chosen by the old dynasty was clearly the latter.

    “Although it was tarnished during the process when the corrupt royal family lost public support and collapsed, the fact that Ashtistan steadfastly maintained the center of the Moritani continent as it transitioned through a period of change to become a republic remains unchanged. Behind this were the unseen efforts of countless citizens.”

    Close the borders and deploy defense forces. Anyone crossing the border without permission will be executed according to kingdom law.

    The publication of any material that insults the royal family is strictly prohibited. All media and assemblies must receive prior approval and censorship, and if there is no certificate, even foreign journalists will be punished.

    Security agencies arrested anyone who communicated with foreign countries, and secret police infiltrated universities and academies under the pretext of preventing subversive activities.

    “…Specifically?”

    “Well. As you may have heard, there were many people who resisted the tyranny of the royal family. Very brave and righteous. From intellectuals…”

    A renowned professor was dragged out by his hair in the middle of class, in front of his students.

    Because he had argued in an interview five years earlier that “the power to appoint public officials should be given to the cabinet, not the royal family, as in foreign countries,” the professor in his 40s was sentenced to 50 years in prison for insulting the royal family.

    “…to workers…”

    An activist imprisoned went on a hunger strike for about 100 days to expose the conditions inside the detention camp.

    Kidnapped by thugs on his way home and brought to court, he starved to death in solitary confinement just before the 103rd sunrise, at the age of 23.

    “…to students…”

    A foreign student who had left a hotel to meet a friend was forcibly deported by police waiting in the lobby, and the Ashtistan friend who had been waiting for him fell into a brain-dead state 30 days later.

    The investigator at the time claimed, “We only served tea, there was no assault or coercion,” but when the family who received the body for the funeral asked, “Is it normal to lose nine teeth in 30 days?” they maintained silence.

    A lawyer who was helping the bereaved family was shot and killed by masked assailants on motorcycles as he was leaving the temple after worship.

    “Many people, in their own ways, worked to overthrow the dynasty.”

    “…”

    “The most important central figure at that time is the ‘Menbashi,’ who currently leads the cabinet of the Republic of Ashtistan. He led the revolution to oust the corrupt dictator and continues to serve Ashtistan to this day. Of course… at that time, there were many difficulties because the minions of the Azadi Palace exerted influence throughout Shizya.”

    Whatever the process, the ruler who had governed the Kingdom of Ashtistan for thousands of years thus became the dictator of the desert.

    Even the Kiyen Empire, which had strengthened its friendship by supporting the independence of the Tower, was saying, “Wouldn’t it be better to take it easy?” The tyranny was so severe that even Nicholas VI, the pioneer in this field, would shake his head.

    However, no one stopped that tyranny.

    Because the Kingdom of Ashtistan’s army, which protected the dictator, was one of the most powerful armies on the Moritani continent.

    For their own reasons, the intertwined interests turned a blind eye to the tyranny of the old dynasty.

    But what people didn’t expect was:

    “Then one day. When a sandstorm covered the sky of Shizya and swept away the corrupt dynasty of the Azadi Palace.”

    That in this world, there are brave people who are willing to get angry on behalf of strangers they’ve never met, simply because they’re being beaten right in front of them,

    And that this person had caused similar trouble across the ocean on another continent in their youth.

    “True freedom (آزادی : Azadi) came to Ashtistan.”

    After the long story ended, the elderly lady concluded the conversation with a picture-perfect smile.

    And I quietly sighed as I made eye contact with Camilla.

    …She said she’d introduce the palace, but what propaganda is this? Is this North Korea or something?

    What I heard was the fall of the Kingdom of Ashtistan, but for some reason, it reminded me of “Revolutionary History.” The situation is eerily similar to when North Korean guides were rambling on.

    “Camilla. Be honest with me.”

    “About what?”

    “You regret coming here, don’t you?”

    “…A little.”

    Camilla replied with a sour expression. Well, who threatened you with a knife to come here?

    …Though it was magic instead of a knife. Anyway.

    “We have arrived!”

    The elderly lady announced our arrival in a vigorous voice. Loud enough to be heard clearly beyond that massive door.

    The deepest place inside the Azadi Palace in Shizya. Many companies, including the Royal Intelligence Agency and Military Intelligence, said that this was the most secretive space in Ashtistan.

    Hence the name “Citadel.”

    The inner palace guide bowed deeply toward the inside. Even as we moved forward, she didn’t budge. As if that place was forbidden to her.

    – Have you come…?

    A deep and distant voice is heard. This seemed to be both a greeting and a signal.

    The massive door of the citadel, which one might doubt could be touched at the top even if two orcs were to stand on each other’s shoulders, opens. With a smooth movement. Without making any sound.

    It was like a boundary line. A completely different world in terms of light and sound. Another world isolated from the outside by a single door.

    The light that had seeped through the gap was nowhere to be found, and inside, only silence and darkness prevailed. No. To be precise, there was a light source similar to a lamp. But it only spread a faint light, as if it were about 30m from the door, or perhaps much further away.

    …Hiss.

    “Camilla.”

    “Yes, I regret it. I already want to go home…”

    “…I haven’t even asked anything yet?”

    Camilla was trembling and looking around with a “We’re doomed!” expression. It was an indescribably bizarre sight. Of course, I was no exception.

    However, Alexandra Petrovna seemed unfazed. Unlike Camilla, who was terrified, or me, who kept rolling my suspicious eyes. She took the lead and strode in.

    It wasn’t as spacious as I thought.

    Whether it was a simple optical illusion or a vision shown by someone, the light source that seemed to be at least 30m away was suddenly nearby, even though we hadn’t walked far.

    The source of the faint light was, surprisingly, an old candlestick. It wasn’t the European-style candlestick described in literature like Les Misérables. Rather, it was a brass candlestick with geometric patterns and the exquisite harmony of arabesque, similar to what I had seen a few times in Iran.

    The cylindrical brass candlestick looked like a piece of fine art. Like those made during the Timurid Empire or the Safavid Empire. The collections shown by an art dealer I had met in Tehran looked like this too.

    Not just the candlestick, but everything in this room was like that. Items that are difficult to gauge by age alone, that cannot be evaluated by such a standard. It felt like all the artifacts from the Shizya Museum and the stolen goods enshrined in the British Museum had been stolen and filled into this room.

    However, none of them could compare to this person.

    This woman was practically a walking museum.

    Cigarette smoke dispersing like threads. A candlestick subtly illuminating her face. The subtle scent of roses and the sweet taste of sharbat (شربات).

    A silky bed as soft as baby’s down.

    A woman holding a pipe was lying on her side on it.

    – …Hoo.

    Black hair with a brownish tint and dark brown eyes. The woman had features more typical of Arab and Persian ethnicities, closer to Mizrahim than Ashkenazim if we were to classify her as Yehudim (יְהוּדִים: plural form in Hebrew meaning Jews).

    Alexandra Petrovna took a step forward. Toward the owner of this room lying on the bed.

    That’s when it happened.

    “Welcome, Sasha (Саша). I’ve been waiting.”

    The sorceress, who had been lying still like a tree, opened her mouth. To her old friend visiting Shizya.

    And she added:

    “I was wondering when you would come.”

    Two images are reflected in the rolling dark brown pupils. One woman and one man.

    The woman smiled at this.

    The greatest sorceress of her era and a grand magician who has made her name in a long history.

    A talented individual born in a mountain valley who rose to the palace of the capital, or a legendary traitor who buried a thousand-year dynasty in the sand.

    Also the priestess of Al-Yabd.

    “Finally, we meet.”

    Zeinab Eskandari (زینب اسکندری) smiled at Camilla and me.

    Probably.

    *

    “…”

    “…”

    Camilla, who had been terrified, awkwardly approached my side. And in a very small, really tiny voice, she whispered:

    “Um, Frederick?”

    “Yes.”

    “Where exactly… is she looking while talking?”

    Zeinab Eskandari, priestess of Al-Yabd and power holder of Ashtistan.

    She was mumbling something to thin air while positioning Camilla and me at a 90-degree angle.

    What is this, why is she looking there? I don’t know either. It’s fucking scary. Do something. O almighty Akarat, protect me with your eternal light, guide me with your holy wisdom… Can’t we go home, Professor? I promise I’ll only use nice words from now on…

    As the murmuring continued, suddenly:

    Thwack! The Grand Duchess hit her own forehead hard and squeezed her eyes shut.

    “Ah…”

    The 100-year-old woman sighed at the sight of her friend (who was probably about to soil the wall).

    “Has the time truly come for me to join my comrades?”


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