The white marble mansion in Baldina’s 2nd District.
While the Royal Capital was in an uproar over the Regent Duke’s rebellion and the victory on the plains, this mansion alone remained isolated, as if buried in the countryside. The joy of victory echoing through the streets and the cheers for the Royal Family did not cross the mansion’s high walls.
Despite its spotless white exterior, the interior was filled with an unprecedented darkness.
Cezare leaned against a high-class bed with an expressionless face. Around him, a chilling aura radiated as if he were standing at the entrance to hell. The prestige of a man who had reigned on the front lines his entire life mixed with the raw ferocity of one facing his limits.
His jawline, sharpened by illness, made him look like a finely crafted statue. However, except for his face, his entire body was covered in the black curse.
Stains from wiped blood and fresh, wet clots of gore were scattered around the bed.
"……It’s a failure."
Terence, who had been monitoring his condition by his side, lowered his head with a miserable expression.
"Even the Dawn’s Dewdrop…… was useless."
Their final hope, which they had barely managed to obtain from the Baldina Royal Palace, had also misfired.
When they first held the Dewdrop, they had trembled with anticipation. They hadn't doubted for a moment that Cezare would break the long-standing curse and soar once more.
"You said it could be washed away! You said everything could be erased! It was all bullshit!"
Gallo hurled an empty bottle that had rolled away. The bottle shattered into pieces with a sharp crack. He turned his back, gripping the wall. Falling tears soaked his feet.
"Why, why!"
Gallo struck the wall with his fist. Would it have been better if there had been no hope at all? It was a wretched feeling—as if he had flown to the ends of the sky only to be plummeted and smashed to bits.
Terence also took off his glasses and wiped his weary face. Then, he clenched a fist stained with deep fatigue. The despairing young man could not bring himself to meet his friend's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Cezare. It's because I was lacking. I……."
If only he had tried harder, if only he had been brilliant enough to surpass his master and reach the primordial truths, he might have been able to save him.
"Useless overconfidence."
Cezare spoke with an arrogant tone, dismissing him indifferently.
In this place where everyone else had broken down, he alone maintained his composure. Even as his final bastion, the Dewdrop, failed and his death was confirmed, he did not collapse or lash out. No, he could not.
He was not yet ready to accept anything.
However, cold reality spoke: this was truly the end. It forced the word *death* into his mind, ensuring he could neither move forward nor retreat.
'Is this as far as I go?'
Cezare looked down at his hands, which had turned black. His expressionless face appeared as calm as a still water surface, yet as precarious as a volcano that could erupt at any moment. His five splayed fingers repeated a motion of clenching and unclenching in the air, as if trying to grasp something.
Hope. Ambition. Cezare watched silently as the formless things he once called dreams slipped away without a sound.
"……."
Then, the sound of a bird flapping its wings broke the pale silence. Cezare lifted his head. He saw Gallo standing by the window, his face contorted as he stuffed something into his back pocket.
"What is it?"
"It's nothing, Boss. Just some dust on the windowsill—."
Gallo made a hurried excuse, his eyes still red and his face wet with tears.
"Bring it."
Cezare flicked his long, straight finger. With a sigh, Gallo reluctantly handed over a parchment.
"It’s a message from the home country. It says Baldina demanded the Elamuz Strait from the Empire in exchange for releasing the Claudio family."
It was the result of Samon Claudio’s attempt to save his life following his meeting with the 4th Imperial Princess.
'I thought the Princess let them go too easily; she was targeting the Strait from the beginning.'
As expected, she had a separate goal. The image of the small figure with sparkling green eyes flickered through his mind, and a hollow laugh escaped him involuntarily.
However, Gallo’s face was still flushed. His appearance, heated as if suppressing a rage, suggested that the news from the Facade informant was not limited to that.
"Continue."
"The Castulo Grand Duchy has been reclaimed, and Count Kensington…… is dead. And……."
Gallo hesitated.
"They say the Emperor is reclaiming Romagna and Alphanon as well."
In an instant, silence filled the room. Terence was also lost for words. Only then did he understand why Gallo could not contain his fury.
"How, how could this be! How could His Majesty do this to you!"
Perdicas II was moving to fundamentally purge Cezare’s power. Romagna and Alphanon were just the beginning. Cezare could read his father’s true intent to absorb all the brilliant talents and loyal vassals he had discovered.
The shapely lips on his statue-like face twisted.
"Now that he’s disposed of Iason and Kensington, am I next?"
"The Emperor shouldn't treat the Boss like this. Does he even know thanks to whom the Empire remains intact today? If he’s a father, after pressuring and denying you your whole life, at the very least, at the end—!"
Gallo shouted as if spitting blood. Rage boiled within him. The years he had spent with Cezare flashed before his eyes like a kaleidoscope.
It was not the Emperor who had cut down countless enemies and crossed the line between life and death. The notorious achievements that made everyone on the continent bow before the name of Kazen were not the Emperor’s either.
It was all Cezare. It was the blood and flesh his master had personally chosen and cultivated. Even if it was for Cezare’s own sake, the fact remained that the Emperor was the greatest beneficiary.
Cezare shrugged.
"The Imperial Father takes no interest in discarded pieces, so it’s not unexpected."
"Who’s a discarded piece!"
Despite Gallo’s explosion, Cezare remained calm. His father's heartless betrayal was nothing new to him. The bond of blood had long since withered away.
"Don't worry, Gallo. It's too early for anger."
An elegant hand reached out and threw a small scroll to Gallo.
"Boss, this is…… the roster of Imperial Observers."
"The Senate meeting will be held soon."
Observers received the Emperor's special privilege to attend Senate meetings. After ascending the throne, Perdicas II had introduced this Observer system to the Senate. It was a move to draw in rising local power players by offering the reward of participating in central politics.
Thus, the current twenty-three 'Observers' were the future power players of the Empire, painstakingly selected by Perdicas II, and had become a strong support base for the Emperor.
"It’s a drive hunt, Gallo. It won't be difficult."
The soft command leaking from his lips, where his habitual smile had vanished, was deeper and colder than ever. Gallo faltered. He felt a sense of déjà vu.
"……Is it really okay to eliminate them all?"
"Yes, all of them."
He recalled the time when the vassals who tried to kill Cezare were poisoned to a man. His decisiveness had solidified the position of the 1st Prince and first struck fear into the minds of the people. That trait remained unchanged even now, facing death.
"Since the Imperial Father reached out first, I must repay him with a proper act of filial impiety until the very end."
Once the Observers were annihilated, the Emperor would realize: if he sought to take anything from his most brilliant son, he would have to pay a corresponding price.
Cezare turned toward Gallo.
"And when that is finished, have the Facade pull out of the Empire. Stay in Baldina, go to the Holy Kingdom—anywhere is fine."
"What?" Gallo looked up. The seal of the Facade flew toward him.
"Both you and the Facade are free."
Unlike Terence, who was a Kazen noble, Gallo was not a citizen of Kazen. He was tied to the Empire solely because he followed Cezare.
"Bo-Boss. You've gone crazy, haven't you? Ju-Just now—"
"Terence, you return to the Magic Tower as well."
Wandering ends here.
Terence faltered at the languidly thrown words. To return—it was not the answer he expected.
"Are you…… perhaps…… giving up?"
It was unlike Cezare. If it were him, he would have told them to search for more methods. Indifferent eyes met Terence’s.
"Who knows. Shall I struggle until the final moment, or would waving goodbye elegantly be slightly less unsightly?"
I'm considering it.
However, his voice was languid as always. So much so that no one would believe he was a man facing death. Even in a wretched state due to the black curse, he maintained an elegant posture.
"Cezare!"
"And Alpha, when you return to the Empire, report back while excluding the Princess of Baldina."
He turned away.
"The Princess is merely a beneficiary who inherited the prestige of her kin. The one who suppressed the rebels and the protagonist of the victory on the plains is King Peleus."
"……My Lord, do you mean to hide the things the Princess has moved to accomplish until now?"
"Yes."
