* * *
I wanted to ask but figured it was better not to know.
As the carriage pulled up to the temple, priests rushed out from the main gates, dropping to their knees.
Other visitors who had been at the temple murmured among themselves, and when Ateol and I stepped down from the carriage, they too bowed their heads.
The priests, in particular, looked as if they had been struck by lightning in their sleep.
If this were a government office, this would be like the president suddenly showing up unannounced.
Ateol spoke first.
“I’d like to have a word with you. And, of course, make an offering to the Earth God.”
“It is an honor, Tower Master. And to you as well, Fourth Prince. Please, come inside.”
I hadn’t even said a word, yet they addressed me first.
We were led to a reception hall inside the temple.
It wasn’t extravagantly decorated, but it carried an air of dignity.
Ateol waited until all the priests had taken their seats, then swept his gaze over them.
The priests stiffened instinctively.
“What I want to know… is about the oracle that was recently delivered.”
A faint tension settled over the room.
It was only natural.
The one who was essentially the subject of the prophecy had come asking about it.
But if they answered too hastily, they might risk drawing the attention of the current emperor.
“Well, it’s been such a long time since an oracle of this nature was received…”
A long time?
So, something similar had happened before.
“Yes, quite some time. Hundreds of years, if I recall… Isn’t that right?”
“…?”
Ateol turned to look at me.
Why is he looking at me?
All I knew was that this wasn’t the first time such an oracle had appeared.
There had been some talk about abdication a few generations ago, but I had only skimmed through that part, so I wasn’t sure of the details.
I gave a vague nod, and Ateol continued speaking.
“You may not remember past oracles, as they are from distant history, but what about this one? Tower Master, how did you interpret it?”
Ah.
So that’s why he came to the temple.
This was one of the largest temples in the region, devoted to one of the most widely worshipped deities, the Earth God.
By bringing me here, Ateol was making a statement—publicly ensuring that the temple priests acknowledged his intention to have the Fourth Prince ascend.
That way, even if I took no direct action, no one could claim ignorance unless I explicitly denied it myself.
“The fact that I’m here with the Fourth Prince should be explanation enough.”
Ateol smiled.
It felt oddly like being praised, which was a strange sensation.
The priests exchanged nervous glances among themselves before looking at me—then flinched and quickly lowered their heads.
Their fear was so obvious that even I could see it.
Right.
I really shouldn’t wander around looking like this.
I was probably burning an unpleasant image into their memories.
Among the hesitant priests, the one who seemed to hold the highest rank finally raised his head with determination.
“The truth is… the Temple Alliance is already in motion.”
“Oh?”
Ateol tilted his head.
“As soon as we reach a consensus, we plan to request an audience with His Majesty. Today’s events… will play a crucial role in solidifying our stance.”
So, that audience with the emperor is bound to take a turn for the worse now.
The voice of the Temple Union was powerful.
While there was no singular position like a High Priest or a Pope, the priests still held undeniable influence.
Decisions made in meetings between representatives of each temple and their districts were conveyed to the emperor through audiences.
Depending on whether these decisions were accepted or not, priests would sometimes even go as far as closing down temples.
In a country where praying to the necessary deity was an essential part of daily life, such a move would provoke intense backlash from the people.
Thus, the push-and-pull between the Temple Union and the emperor had been an ongoing struggle for ages.
But this time, with divine revelation as justification—and with my alignment with the temple now firmly established—the advantage was overwhelmingly in the Union’s favor.
In short, the emperor’s abdication was now only a matter of time.
Ateol turned the conversation elsewhere, looking quite satisfied.
He spoke about offering sacrifices to the Earth God—one thousand gold coins, ten crates of frankincense and myrrh, along with pepper, cloves, and star anise.
The priests’ faces brightened immediately.
I cast a glance at Ateol.
Though magic had developed significantly, trade was still nothing like in modern times, making spices incredibly valuable.
And gold coins—just one was worth about a commoner’s monthly wages.
Adding frankincense and myrrh to that?
Even for royalty, that was an enormous sum.
And Ateol, despite his status, wasn’t particularly favored among the imperial family.
For him to so casually offer such a tribute to a single temple… he must have had access to another source of wealth from the start.
Well, that wasn’t my concern.
As we wrapped up the discussion and rose from our seats, the priests bowed to both me and Ateol in the same manner.
They were already treating him as emperor.
I pretended not to notice and took the lead, stepping outside.
Inside the carriage, Ateol stared at me intently.
“What?”
“It’s just… something I never thought would happen in my lifetime is actually happening. It makes me happy.”
“……”
“And of course, it’s all thanks to you.”
I stared at Ateol in silence. Hah.
Thanks to me, is it?
“Even if I weren’t here, you would’ve found a way to claim the throne.”
It was something I said without much thought, but for a brief moment, the air turned cold.
I pulled my hood back slightly and looked at Ateol—he was still smiling, but his gaze had sharpened.
He was assessing me.
“That’s an interesting thing to say.”
“I didn’t say it to be interesting.”
“Well… You’re right. But how did you know? Do I have ‘future rebel’ written all over my face or something?”
It was the first time I had ever heard someone talk so openly about rebellion.
Even if we were talking about the emperor’s abdication, the current emperor was still very much alive.
“I told you from the start—you seemed the most desperate.”
“Hah. That’s true.”
Ateol shrugged.
“But that’s only half true. I’m not desperate.”
“……”
“Desperation is something felt by those without hope, isn’t it? But not once… not even once, did I believe I wouldn’t become emperor.”
“In your situation? What kind of confidence is that?”
“The position of emperor isn’t something just anyone can claim.”
Tch.
If anyone else had said that, it would’ve sounded unbearably arrogant.
But coming from Ateol, it was oddly convincing.
“Caleus was lucky to be born first, but unfortunately, he lacks the ability to hold onto that seat. The other two? Not even worth mentioning. And as for the emperor… he’s far too ordinary to lead an era.”
“You do realize that to me, you sound just as arrogant as they do?”
“I don’t.”
What unshakable confidence.
And annoyingly enough, he was right.
For the six years I had spent in this world, I had never once been impressed by the emperor or any of the princes.
But then again, I hadn’t known about Ateol back then.
Now that I did, it felt like there was no one else fit for the throne.
“Caleus was fortunate enough to be the firstborn, but he doesn’t have what it takes to maintain his position. Hm… Actually, my father suspects me, you know.”
“Suspects? Of what?”
Ateol lowered his voice, as if sharing a deep secret, covering his mouth slightly.
“He thinks I was born from an affair.”
“……”
I was so dumbfounded I momentarily lost the ability to speak.
How does that even make sense?
* * *
