The Villain’s Aide Has Run Away

When the door closed behind him, Leslun took a brief look around the room. He saw an adjoining space connected to the bedchamber. On the desk lay piles of documents, an old map spread open, and disorganized records from the Imperial Palace.

Since it was a place that could not be touched without its owner’s permission, the desk remained far more cluttered than the rest of the room.

Among the mess, traces of recent activity stood out clearly.

For Leslun, that was a very important clue.

Without touching anything, he fixed his eyes on the old blueprint of the palace and noticed a strange blank area. It was a space not mentioned in any architectural record or recent report. A faint red line marked what appeared to be an underground passage sealed off decades ago.

“This passage… if it’s a place even the Imperial Family has forgotten.”

Leslun stared hard at the point on the map.

“It’s the only route through which they could have moved His Majesty without a trace.”

As far as Leslun knew, the Shadow Corps’s sorcery was not yet complete. The fact that the Headmaster had reacted so violently to the herbs with just one exposure was proof of that.

Their failure must have been letting both the Crown Prince and the young Prince slip from their grasp.

Since the Emperor was still under the protection of a divine being, there must have been moments when he regained consciousness. During that time, he had likely left behind the only clue Leslun had now discovered.

Leslun immediately ran to where Kailos was.

***

In the middle of the night, hidden beneath the stone staircase of the old eastern palace, a sealed door lay buried in darkness.

Leslun ran his hand along the wall, and Kailos followed closely, scanning the surroundings.

From the outside, the place looked like a deserted ruin within the Imperial Palace. As Kailos glanced around the crumbling walls, he muttered quietly, “We should have reduced the palace’s size.”

It was a strangely offhand comment for such a serious situation.

“Your Highness,” Robin said, stifling a sigh and gesturing toward the knights hiding further behind. But Kailos paid him no mind.

“They did all this right under our noses. No wonder we couldn’t find them.”

The realization that the trail they sought led only here left Kailos hollow with disbelief.

“So they were secretly hosting a party in my own house. How utterly insolent.”

Leslun turned his head slightly. It was not embarrassment over Kailos’s inappropriate humor, but rather something else.

“I like everything Your Highness says,” he replied softly.

Even that offhand remark didn’t sound so bad to him.

“Somehow, I’ve been feeling unusually lonely lately,” Kailos murmured.

Robin, caught between the two, relaxed at the sound of the exchange. Ironically, even he was comforted by the Crown Prince’s odd sense of humor.

As Leslun felt his own tense shoulders ease, Kailos gave him a glance.

“Let’s go in.”

The moment Kailos moved first, Robin and the knights followed in order, with Leslun taking up the rear.

As soon as they stepped inside and faced the massive stone door, everyone drew in a sharp breath.

From the cracks seeped a thick energy that reeked of blood and hatred. Leslun instinctively covered his nose and mouth.

A low vibration soon filled the air, echoing in their ears. Words in a language they could not clearly understand spilled endlessly from beyond the stone.

Kailos halted and placed his palm upon the door. Black smoke began to leak out through the crevices. Drawing his sword from its sheath, he let the blade gleam sharply in the dim light.

With a single, powerful strike, Kailos slashed at the stone door. A deep crack split through it, and Robin and the knights immediately joined forces to push it open. The sound of the crumbling stone roared through the underground hall.

“Let’s see who’s behind this.”

Kailos muttered between his teeth and stepped into the vast chamber.

At its center stood a black altar encircled by rough-hewn stone pillars. The Emperor lay upon it, suspended unnaturally in midair, as though his body were forcibly held up by an unseen power. A red sigil was being etched across his chest.

“Your Majesty!” Robin called out in a low, urgent voice.

Before the altar stood the leader of the Shadow Corps, his dark cloak fluttering like a living shadow as he chanted his spell. Around him were about ten followers, each holding a censer filled with black soil and blood. The rising smoke formed eerie symbols in the air.

“The throne built upon blood shall once again fall to blood. By the Emperor’s life, the gate of darkness shall open, and new life shall be born. The truth stands before us!”

The leader’s deep voice thundered through the entire chamber.

“Stop!”

At Kailos’s command, the knights charged toward the altar.