* * *
[To my dearest, Felix,
You must be surprised to hear I’ve been captured by Count Clarke, so I asked Zephyros to deliver this letter urgently. Thanks to Zephyros, who pretended to be brainwashed by dark magic, I managed to escape. So no matter what anyone says about me, you don’t need to believe them.
Do you remember when I was sick, lying in bed, and you told me that fairytale? Like the doll in that story, I won’t break so easily. No matter who you are, no matter your state, I’ll be your baker, ready to kiss you whenever you return.
So don’t worry. Just come back safely.]
With every word Felix read, light returned to his eyes.
Lowell deliberately described their private memories, proof the letter was genuinely his.
And most telling of all—the crude doodle at the bottom.
It looked like either a scribble or a monster, but Felix recognized it instantly—it was the messy portrait Lowell had once drawn of him.
Felix’s chaotic black magic gradually settled.
The once violent, collapsing magic circle dulled to a faint hum.
The Crown Prince observed Felix, finally able to breathe.
“Where is Lowell now?”
His voice was hoarse, but compared to the lifeless shell he’d been moments ago, he was visibly better.
Zephyros, wilting under the lingering tension, stammered his reply.
“He was rescued by knights… He’s resting in a safe location.”
“Injuries?”
“He didn’t look well… but with the priests’ help, his strength has returned.”
“Good.”
Felix tightly shut his eyes, hatred still simmering beneath them.
He crushed the whirlwind of emotions in an instant, straightening his back with renewed resolve.
His wavering spirit locked onto a single, unshakable goal.
“Be grateful to Lowell. He’s the only reason you’re still alive.”
Though his hand still trembled, Felix withdrew his murderous aura, glaring at the Emperor with contempt.
The Emperor writhed in agony yet clung to life with pitiful relief.
His mind, consumed for years by the depravity of dark magic and his own twisted desires, had left him delusional—unable to accept defeat, still foolishly believing in hope.
“You said destroying the magic circle requires no use of magic whatsoever. Is that correct?”
Felix had every intention of cutting off that hope at its root.
The Emperor’s fleeting relief vanished, tension surging in its place.
“Yes. You can’t even use sword energy. That’s why I couldn’t do it alone.”
“I’ll finish this task and leave.”
It wasn’t a request.
It was a declaration.
The Crown Prince, knowing how much Felix had restrained himself, decided not to interfere.
His head throbbed at the thought of cleaning up the aftermath without Felix’s strength, but it was only a matter of time.
“Ten paces west of the throne, the magic converges there. You must concentrate all your strength on that point.”
Felix, wasting no time, tapped his sword at the exact spot in the audience chamber where the magic converged, gauging how much force would be required.
“We strike together on three.”
“Understood.”
Despite his role being over, Zephyros hovered anxiously nearby.
Regardless of who was watching, the two swordsmen synchronized and drove their blades precisely into the designated spot.
Had it been ordinary flooring, it would’ve shattered instantly.
But the magic circle, infused with immense dark power, erupted with black flames instead of breaking.
The unexpected resistance made Felix scowl as he gripped his sword tighter.
The humming sound grew louder, and the black magic circle was preparing to activate, defending itself.
The two instinctively sensed that hesitation would lead to disaster, so they poured all their strength into their swords.
Creak, scree— an awful sound rang out as cracks began to form in the magic circle.
Once a small gap appeared, it didn’t take long for their combined strength to break the entire formation apart.
The magic circle, which had been containing the desires of dozens—no, hundreds—of people, lost its power and collapsed.
“It’s breaking down.”
As the Crown Prince predicted, the floor beneath the magic circle gave way.
What was revealed underneath was a horrifying scene unimaginable within the beautiful imperial palace.
“Those are the humans sacrificed to prepare the ritual.”
The blackened, shriveled corpses were so grotesquely emaciated it was hard to believe they were once human.
Clicking his tongue, the Crown Prince stepped toward the Emperor, who was crawling pitifully across the blood-soaked marble floor, wearing a dazed, disbelieving expression.
“Your Majesty, do you recognize this medicine?”
The Crown Prince grabbed the Emperor’s partially grayed golden hair and yanked his head back.
The moment the Emperor laid eyes on the potion in the Crown Prince’s hand, his already pale face turned deathly white.
“Th-That’s…”
“Of course you recognize it. You made my mother take this for a year, didn’t you? But this batch… it’s far less diluted, far more poisonous.”
With brutal force, the Crown Prince pried open the Emperor’s mouth and poured the potion down his throat before he could resist.
“They say it stiffens the body completely, right? Ah, but with this concentration… I’m sure your vocal cords have already melted away. Don’t worry, I’ll dilute the next dose a little more. Though I can’t say how many more you’ll get to drink.”
This rare poison wasn’t widely known.
It inflicted searing pain across the body as though one were burning alive, but death came slowly—a cruel fate.
Felix considered that still too easy a death for the Emperor, but that wasn’t his concern now.
“Take me to Lowell.”
At that moment, Felix had only one desire: to see Lowell, who was far away.
His heart pounded violently in his chest as if urging him to find its rightful owner.
Zephyros, who had been standing there dumbfounded, shook himself awake and blurted out in rapid succession:
“Your Grace! You must go quickly! Lord Lowell told me to wait and inform you once everything was done… but he’s still in the underground prison! The knights are fighting their best, but he’s injured—he may not hold out much longer!”
Felix’s expression darkened instantly.
Rage at being deceived about Lowell’s safety tangled with confusion over how he even received the letter.
“Focus! You must move immediately!”
As Zephyros urged, there was no time to be lost in confusion.
Felix grabbed Zephyros by the collar and stormed out of the audience chamber.
“Riding a horse will be faster than waiting for a teleportation mage!”
Felix’s vision clouded with darkness.
‘If I can’t see, I won’t be able to track Lowell…’
Without hesitation, Felix drew a dagger from his waist and plunged it into his own forearm.
“Ghh!”
Zephyros flinched, unable to comprehend what Felix had done.
But Felix, barely clinging to consciousness through the searing pain, remained composed.
His vision still wavered, but the sharp sting grounded him enough to bear it.
“Guide me.”
Mounting his horse, Felix’s voice bled with pain.
Zephyros scrambled onto his own steed in a panic.
“We head toward Count Clark’s territory first!”
Under the moonless, pitch-dark night, Felix’s blood dripped onto the ground, soaked with fear and desperation.
Lowell had the chance to escape after Zephyros found him, yet he remained trapped in the underground prison for one reason alone.
The moment Lowell sensed Zephyros’s approach, he sharpened his vigilance.
Expecting this, Zephyros immediately raised his hands high in surrender, signaling that he meant no harm.
“I—I came to help.”
“Weren’t you brainwashed?”
Lowell’s question carried an unspoken meaning: ‘Why would I trust anything you say?’
Zephyros flailed his arms nervously, his eyes darting away the moment they met Lowell’s, his face reddening as always.
That annoying sincerity of his hadn’t changed.
“The Crown Prince anticipated the Emperor would try to brainwash me, so he acted first. He sealed my memories before the audience, then lifted the seal the next time we met. He said if anything didn’t match my original memories, the brainwashing would break.”
Lowell’s brow remained furrowed.
The story was too detailed and too disadvantageous for Zephyros to fabricate, especially since there was no real benefit for him in doing so.
‘He doesn’t have the ability to lie this intricately…’
* * *
