Chapter 166 - Sacrifice for the Greater Good

"In what way?"

Ferda asked her.

"I don't think that man ever intended to send you in the first place, Regent Ferda. The Emperor's son bowed his head and begged for mercy, so he merely pretended to agree because he had no choice."

"When it came out that I was a black mage, it seemed he intended to send me."

"That was an unforeseen development. But if you set that aside, what do you think his real objective was?"

"Then his target was..."

As the conversation continued, Ferda finally pieced together the clues.

"Alexander and Duke Yurei."

Olivia nodded.

"From the moment that fat brother of mine lost his legion, he had no intention of forgiving him. Since he couldn't execute him anyway, he probably planned to let him struggle on his own until he exposed nothing but his disgraceful side. My throat's dry. May I have a cup of tea?"

"Of course."

Ferda handed her a cup.

After taking a sip of the pleasantly warm tea—not too hot—she continued.

"Anyway, Alexander will have to relinquish his authority for a while as punishment. But they didn't cast him into the abyss completely. They left him a chance. It looks like they're making him compete with the second prince, but do you think that'll really happen?"

"No."

"Exactly. For an entire year, the transfer of power will remain uncertain. His supporters will begin craving stability, and many of them will leave him."

Shake Alexander, and those clinging to him would fall away.

And the one most capable of absorbing those defectors...

Only one name came to mind.

Valdemar Golt.

"What do you mean when you say Duke Yurei was also a target?"

"They were probably planning to pressure the Heinkel Kingdom. Even though they knew you killed Prince Yurei, Regent Ferda, they never intended to use that to bind you."

"But when they recruited William, I heard they were trying to make him give testimony that would work against me."

"William's betrayal was probably part of the calculation too."

"Why would one of Alexander's people do something like that?"

Alexander had desperately wanted to shift all responsibility onto Ferda.

Picking up her teacup elegantly, Olivia chuckled.

"Alexander's people? Don't you find that amusing?"

"..."

"Why would someone competent enough to recruit Sir William stay loyal to a man whose downfall was already inevitable?"

"A planted spy..."

If that were the case, then the mastermind had likely been Valdemar all along.

"In the end, Duke Yurei was backed into a corner with no way out. Now Sir Oldin Rooster has the perfect excuse to pressure the Heinkel Kingdom and force it beneath the Empire's authority. Humiliating that fat brother of mine by putting a leash around his neck and making him kick the ball again was just a bonus. If it had ended there, I would've thought both sides had simply exchanged blows, but..."

Olivia's expression darkened.

"Then the massive incident involving the Demon Followers happened."

"That's right."

No one could have predicted that development.

"And to Valdemar, it became an unexpected blessing."

"A blessing?"

"Because, of all people, the Demon Follower turned out to be that damned impostor."

The phrase that damned impostor caught Ferda's attention.

"You speak as though you already knew Joseph Faust wasn't the real one."

"I did. The real Joseph Faust would never have glanced at my chest the moment we met. I suspected someone was impersonating him."

Realizing she might be misunderstood, she quickly added,

"But I didn't know he was one of the Demon Followers. If I had known, I wouldn't have stood by and allowed it to continue."

Ferda decided to believe her.

After all, even Ferda had only learned of the existence of the Dopplers during the Grand Ducal Council. It had been a closely guarded secret until then.

"Anyway... because of that, the integrity and credibility of the Alte Religion are now being questioned. And the ones who'll suffer the most are the newly established noble families."

The nobility of the Empire maintained a balance between the traditional nobles and the newly established nobles.

For the traditional houses, things were comparatively simple. As long as they proved themselves worthy of their family's reputation, recognition came relatively easily.

The newly established nobles were different.

They had earned their titles through extraordinary service to the Empire. Since they had risen to positions close to those who ruled, they had to satisfy far stricter requirements.

"One of those requirements is the Token of Faith issued by the Alte Religion."

It was little more than a formal oath—to resist the temptations of demons and devote oneself to the Light.

But what would happen once it became known that the bishop who granted those tokens had himself been a Demon Follower more wicked than any demon?

The very face of the religion had destroyed its own authority.

And at the same time, it had given people an excuse to doubt everyone beneath it.

"From now on, those tokens from the Alte Religion won't be enough to prove anything. They'll establish a new system instead."

"What kind of system?"

"From what I've seen, it looks like the traditional noble houses will begin certifying the status of the newly established nobles."

So... existing nobles would be responsible for validating new nobles.

In order to receive that certification, people would have to curry favor with them. And the greater the certifier's authority, the greater their influence.

And within the Empire...

No one possessed more authority than Valdemar Golt.

Everything is flowing toward Valdemar Golt.

Taken to the extreme, it could become a situation where, whether one belonged to the traditional faction or the newly established faction, one could no longer remain in politics without Valdemar's approval.

He might have held the title of Grand Duke, but in practice he wielded the authority of an absolute monarch.

A traitor? What nonsense.

"...And my own position has become a problem as well."

Olivia spoke, forcing her trembling voice to remain steady.

Unfortunately, she too depended heavily on the Alte Religion.

"The Alte Religion will soon have no choice but to watch Valdemar's every move. And they'll likely try to send me back to the Imperial Palace as a princess instead of continuing my training as an apprentice saint."

"..."

"They're not as steadfast as you are, Regent Ferda. They know it'd be much easier simply to abandon me."

Her greatest weakness was her instability.

One day she might grow into a mighty tree like the World Tree itself.

But for now...

She was nothing more than a fragile sprout that had only just broken through the soil.

"Regent Ferda."

Setting down her teacup, Olivia reached out and took Ferda's hand.

Her delicate fingers were damp with cold sweat.

"I told you this before. Please hand me over to Grand Duke Golt as soon as possible—before I completely lose my value as a bargaining chip."

She smiled warmly.

"I'll spend years... perhaps even decades... living as Olivia Arken Golt. If that's all it takes, everything will become much easier for you. Once the second capital you dream of building is completed..."

She wore a gentle smile.

It resembled the one she had shown Prince Lutenia...

Yet somehow, it felt different.

"I am willing to make any sacrifice."

***

After Olivia departed, Ferda remained seated, lost in thought.

Only a single phrase echoed through his mind.

Olivia Arken Golt...

Judging by the ambitions she held...

It was a magnificent name.

If Princess Olivia and Grand Duke Golt united their factions, and if they promised to support the Far East with all their strength...

Then building the second capital would become remarkably easy.

There should have been nothing left to agonize over.

After all, Ferda wasn't treating Olivia like an object.

She had made this decision herself.

Twice.

And yet...

No matter how much he tried, the uneasy feeling refused to disappear.

Why?

Olivia was just like me.

When the Ferda from that distant future—one that no longer existed—first entered the Imperial Palace...

The moment he saw Olivia's face, he understood.

She hated her family every bit as much as he hated his own.

And because he recognized that hatred in her...

He feared she would recognize it in him as well.

So he kept his distance.

Ferda quietly retraced Olivia's life.

She had never married any man.

She had aged as an untouchable flower of noble grace.

Until the day she became the enchantress who nearly brought the Empire to ruin, she had never seduced a man.

She had preserved her chastity.

Someone like her is willing to marry her sworn enemy.

Valdemar Golt was someone she hated as much as her own family.

Ferda himself couldn't imagine living with his greatest enemy—not for years, not for months...

Not even for a few days.

Olivia was no different.

Then why had she made such a drastic decision?

Was it because she truly cared for the people of the Empire?

Because she genuinely believed that sacrificing herself could save everyone?

Ferda couldn't tell where the truth lay.

"Didn't everything work out perfectly?"

His tangled thoughts were interrupted.

Without so much as knocking, Zed strode into the room as arrogantly as ever.

Suppressing his irritation, Ferda replied,

"It did. Thanks to you."

"It was thanks to me. But judging by your expression, something still doesn't sit right with you."

"That's not something for us to discuss. Why did you come barging in here?"

If Zed had come for no reason, Ferda had every intention of scolding him.

Fortunately, that wasn't the case.

In his hand was a notebook that looked strangely out of place.

"Do you know what I was doing after I sneaked into the Archbishop's quarters?"

"I heard you found a corpse."

"There was more than just a corpse."

Originally, it wasn't a place for storing bodies.

It was a secret archive where only bishops could access confidential documents.

Zed handed over one of the notebooks he had found there.

"It seems these bishops kept records of the confessions made by high-ranking nobles."

"You took it?"

"I was curious what kind of dirty tricks those nobles had been pulling. I thought it'd just be entertaining gossip... but I found something valuable enough to deserve extra payment."

His expression turned unusually serious as he opened the notebook.

"It said this."

Ferda read the passage.

The moment he finished...

He froze.

Words failed him.

It felt as though someone had struck him hard across the back of the head.

"Ah..."

His mind went blank.

It wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say he was on the verge of losing his sanity.

Driven to the very edge...

Pushed toward the abyss...

At that final moment—

Ferda regained his composure.

"Zed."

Two syllables.

Spoken as though they had risen from the depths of the abyss itself.

Even Zed shuddered.

"Y-Yes?"

"Go summon Garnet. Then prepare yourself as well."

"Prepare... for what?"

"Because of me..."

Ferda rose to his feet.

"...The balance of power within the Empire is beginning to collapse."

He spoke calmly.

"I'm going to restore that balance."

That was all he said.

Yet Zed understood immediately.

Before tonight was over...

Blood would flow somewhere.

***

The estate of Marquess Akard Dvelung.

Even though the Imperial Capital housed nearly thirty million people, noble estates there were far smaller than those found elsewhere in the Empire.

Owning a grand mansion with its own gardens in such a city was no easy feat.

Not even a marquess should have been able to afford one.

Yet Akard Dvelung lived in precisely such an estate.

It was the reward for absolute loyalty to the most powerful man in the Empire.

"Yes, Your Grace. Everything you requested has been prepared. We can begin tomorrow."

What they had prepared was the official proclamation regarding the recent catastrophe.

It declared that the Empire had been infiltrated by the Demon Race and warned that the situation was gravely serious.

The problem was...

Unlike the Demon Followers of the lower classes...

This scandal had erupted among those at the very pinnacle of power.

Valdemar was a man who calculated profit and loss with ruthless efficiency.

He intended to exploit the chaos to strengthen his authority even further.

He often said that only by sweeping away half of the Golden Council could it truly be cleansed.

Now...

That opportunity had finally arrived.

"Yes. The utopia you have always dreamed of will surely become reality, Your Grace."

If this affair were handled properly...

Valdemar's grip on power would become even stronger.

He would become an unstoppable force that no one could challenge.

"Understood. I'll end the transmission here. Have a pleasant night."

Akard cut off the communication and exhaled in bliss.

With this...

Everything will fall into Lord Valdemar's hands.

An absolute ruler whom no one could oppose.

As the right-hand man of that supreme ruler, Akard would finally be able to purge everyone who had dared oppose him without having to concern himself with their influence.

More than the honor or wealth flowing his way...

That prospect thrilled him the most.

"I suppose I should get some sleep for tomorrow."

Starting tomorrow, he would be busy from the moment he opened his eyes. Having finished organizing everything, he was about to retire to his bedroom.

Just then—

His butler knocked and entered, bringing unexpected news.

"Master. You have a visitor."

"At this hour?"

Akard frowned.

Arriving unannounced so late at night was extremely rude, and he despised people who ignored such basic etiquette.

"Who is it?"

"A man named Ferda Valdrova."

The moment he heard the name, his irritation vanished, replaced by surprise.

"The fiancé of Grand Duchess Valdrova?"

"Yes, sir."

How strange.

There wasn't the slightest reason for that man to come looking for him.

"Shall I tell him to return tomorrow morning instead? It is rather late."

After a moment of thought, Akard shook his head.

"No. Show him in. And have the remaining servants light up the entire mansion."

"Understood."

Although Regent Ferda was young, everyone now knew after the recent incident that he was far from an easy opponent.

Besides... Grand Duke Golt has taken an interest in him.

Valdemar had never said so outright.

But the way he looked at Ferda made it obvious enough.

And now that very man has come to see me... in the middle of the night.

He came specifically to see me.

Even if it turned out to be a waste of time, it would be worth hearing him out.

Akard walked to the entrance as the butler opened the doors and ushered the guest inside.

A man with gray hair, blue eyes, and a black suit entered expressionlessly.

There was no trace of killing intent about him.

Akard greeted him first.

"It is an honor to meet you, Regent. I am Marquess Akard Dvelung."

Ferda bowed politely in return.

"You may speak to me informally."

"Oh, no. Regardless, you are the future husband of Her Grace Grand Duchess Valdrova. And back then, I was presiding over the proceedings, so I had little choice."

Akard smiled warmly.

"But what brings you here so late at night?"

"I came to express my gratitude."

"My gratitude?"

"I heard you prepared the potion that Count Ulvera Consilus drank. I had so much work to deal with until this evening that I ended up arriving without proper notice. My apologies."

"N-Not at all! Please, come inside! I'll prepare some tea."

Ferda's eyes swept down the long hallway.

For one of the largest mansions in the Imperial Capital...

The corridor was strangely empty.

Not a single servant could be seen.

"There don't seem to be many servants in this mansion."

"Ah, does it feel rather empty? Unless there's a great deal of cleaning to do, I don't keep many around."

"Alchemy requires delicate work, after all."

"It's not quite that delicate. I simply dislike complicated things."

Their light conversation continued until they reached the reception room.

Akard dismissed the butler, leaving only the two of them in the spacious room.

"I'll prepare the tea."

"You should leave it to a servant. It seems like unnecessary trouble."

"This tea is rather precious and requires careful preparation. My butler doesn't know how to brew it properly, so I've always served distinguished guests myself."

"I see. In that case..."

Akard placed the tea leaves into the teapot and carefully poured in water heated to the proper temperature.

His meticulous movements reflected the refinement expected of someone from a family of alchemists.

Once the preparation was finished...

All that remained was to let it steep.

Glancing toward Ferda—

Akard noticed he was no longer sitting.

Instead...

He was standing before a painting on the wall, studying it intently.

Ordinarily, Akard might have assumed he was simply admiring the artwork.

But something was different.

There were over forty paintings hanging on that wall.

Yet...

Ferda was looking at only one.

It was an abstract painting, its surface covered with rough, chaotic strokes of paint.

"Does that painting interest you?"

Akard walked over beside him.

Startled as though interrupted from deep thought, Ferda answered,

"It gives me a rather strange feeling. It's difficult to describe... but it seems to possess a force that draws people toward it."

Akard broke into a wide grin.

No one had ever given him an answer he liked so much.

"Haha... Hearing you say that makes it impossible for me not to boast a little. I actually painted that myself."

"Is that so?"

"My skills are rather poor, so I hid it among the masterpieces to make it seem more impressive."

"I wouldn't say that."

Ferda continued gazing at the painting.

"If your skills were truly poor, this wouldn't have been the first painting to catch my eye."

His eyes were filled with emotion.

"This is the first time I've ever felt such burning passion emanating from a painting."

Akard found himself liking Ferda more and more.

It wasn't merely because the compliment sounded pleasant.

Countless people had praised his paintings before.

Some had even singled out this abstract work.

But very few truly understood the emotion the painting was meant to convey.

Akard, now approaching forty, felt his heart pounding.

Perhaps...

This man is one of my own kind.

If so...

Perhaps he would understand that as well.

"Regent."

"Yes, Marquess Dvelung."

"You've praised my humble work far more than it deserves. It's gone to my head a little... Would you permit me to show you another painting?"

Akard asked almost shyly.

Ferda nodded.

"If there are more of your works, I'd be the one asking the favor."

"Haha! Excellent!"

Delighted, Akard pressed against a narrow gap in the reception room wall.

With the sound of hidden machinery moving...

The space between two famous paintings slowly opened, revealing a concealed chamber.

Inside...

More paintings were displayed.

They shared the same abstract style as the one Ferda had admired.

The first painting had been titled "Passion."

This one...

He had named "Akard Dvelung's Love."

"What do you think?"

Outwardly calm, Akard's heart pounded with anticipation.

Like a child waiting for exam results after every question happened to cover what he had studied...

He anxiously awaited Ferda's judgment.

"This..."

Then the verdict came.

"It's revolting."

A failing grade.

Akard's expression froze.

"...What did you say?"

"I don't know what it's meant to depict..."

Ferda narrowed his eyes.

"...But I find it rather revolting."

As though he had caught the stench of something rotten, he instinctively covered his nose.

Without the slightest hesitation...

He trampled all over it.

"Is this your attempt to portray hatred, Marquess?"

The very love...

That Akard had laid bare without reservation.