Sigrid Chapter 103

[ … words ]

‘Yes. She was murdered in front of the prince.’

‘That bastard.’

Sigrid gritted her teeth. She sighed and said.

“You stayed by his side the whole time. Thank you, Alkerto.”

“It was my duty. But with Her Majesty the Empress gone like that, I feel I wasn’t much use.”

“No, just your presence would have been a comfort.”

At Sigrid’s words, Alkerto smiled faintly.

“I hope so.”

Then his face sharpened.

“More importantly, what’s this about poison?”

Swallowing a sigh, Sigrid began to tell him everything that had happened.

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At the meeting held at dawn the next day, everyone unanimously accepted the “Regent Crown Prince.” The neutral nobles immediately turned, and even the pro-Emperor nobles couldn’t do anything about the evidence presented.

The nobles were in an uproar over the revealed facts: the plan to burn down the slums, the immortality magic, the collusion with dropout magicians, the murder of the Empress, and so on. The testimony of Prince Rudinal, the second prince, was also effective. Everyone became convinced that the Emperor was insane, and the matter was settled by assigning “care”—which meant surveillance—to the mentally incapacitated Emperor.

Serios first expressed grief over the death of the Empress Dowager.

Mourning flags were hung throughout the country, and in the imperial palace as well.

The young and beautiful Empress, who had come from a distant country and was murdered by the mad Emperor, quickly gained the people’s sympathy. Naturally, the evaluation of Serios, who had deposed the Emperor, also improved.

Everyone welcomed this young and beautiful imperial couple. Though he was called the Regent Crown Prince, no one was unaware that his position was equivalent to that of the Emperor.

While the new Crown Prince reorganized his subjects, there was naturally a distribution of rewards for meritorious service. The Western Nobles Alliance obtained satisfactory positions, as did the emerging noble forces that had cooperated with Serios.

However, Sigrid, one of those who had rendered the highest service, could not attend the investiture ceremony. Beramund was likewise absent.

Where there is light, there must also be darkness.

Sigrid’s mansion was enveloped in silence. The mourning flags hung to honor the Empress seemed almost like an omen.

Marie-Chez asked with a pale face.

“Still no change?”

Morris nodded. Marie-Chez looked at the closed door once, then covered her face with both hands.

“Wh-what should we do? What if Siri dies?”

Tears trickled between her fingers. Morris thought he wanted to cry with her. He was leaning on crutches. The wound on his thigh was deep and not fully healed.

Lowengrin put her arm around Marie-Chez’s shoulders and said softly.

“It’ll be alright. Let’s go back for today. Don’t cry, Marie. Siri isn’t dead yet.”

“O-okay—”

Marie-Chez nodded, sniffling. Lowengrin looked at Morris and asked.

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“Alright. If there’s any news, let us know right away.”

Lowengrin spoke with a choked voice tinged with moisture. Morris nodded. After Marie-Chez and Lowengrin left, the corridor was quiet.

Morris raised his hand to knock on the door, then quietly opened it and went inside. The room was dark with all curtains drawn. A few dim candles flickered.

Sigrid lay on the bed.

Her face was pale. Though her face was pale, her skin was surprisingly hot to the touch. Sigrid lay with her eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Beramund was tightly holding her hand.

Beramund looked up at the sound of the door.

“Lowengrin and Marie-Chez have gone home.”

It wasn’t the news he wanted. Beramund turned back to Sigrid without answering. Morris approached on his crutches and said.

“Let’s switch. If you keep this up, you’ll collapse first.”

“So be it.”

Beramund said in a low voice.

Morris sighed and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll wake you immediately if anything changes. Get some sleep on the sofa at least. I don’t want to tell Siri you died of overwork when she wakes up.”

It was an uncharacteristically biting remark from Morris, but Beramund didn’t even notice. He stared at Sigrid without moving, then stood up, kissed her forehead, and straightened his back.

Beramund strapped on the scabbard he had hung on the wall and sheathed his sword. Then he picked up his cloak. Morris asked in surprise.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

Beramund answered with an expressionless face.

Three days.

He had waited as long as he could. As he left the room, Beramund donned his cloak. Sigrid’s mansion was quiet.

“Arkana.”

Beramund called the magician’s name. As if by magic, Arkana appeared. He too looked tired.

“Has something happened to Siri?”

“No.”

At Beramund’s answer, Arkana rubbed his tired eyes and asked.

“Then why did you call me?”

“To the northern tower.”

At those words, Arkana quickly looked up at him. Beramund raised the corner of his mouth crookedly and said.

“I’ve waited long enough.”

“Indeed, you have.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have the tools?”

At Arkana’s question, Beramund tapped his sword. Arkana silently brought his hands together lightly, then spread them. A complex magic circle was drawn on the floor. It was a careful transportation.

After a slight tremor, Beramund and Arkana were standing in a luxurious room.

“W-who’s there!”

The former Emperor Yuri, sitting at a desk chair, stood up in surprise. Beramund glanced at Arkana, and Arkana snapped his fingers.

“It’ll be quiet now.”

It meant that sounds from inside wouldn’t go outside. Beramund said “Thank you” and started to draw his sword, then looked at Arkana and twirled his finger. It meant for him to turn around. Although Arkana said, “I think it might be worse to only hear the sounds,” he obediently turned away.

“I’ve come to hear the location of the antidote, Your Majesty.”

Beramund spoke politely. Former Emperor Yuri’s eyes glinted.

“If you let me out of here, I’ll tell you.”

“Ah—”

Beramund chuckled.

“You’ll soon be saying, ‘I’ll tell you, so please kill me now.'”

“Wh-what, for a knight to—!”

“Three days in hell can change a person.”

Saying this, Beramund drew his sword.

Arkana tilted his head at the screams coming from behind, then yawned.

‘Should we have done this sooner?’

Even if confined, an emperor is still an emperor. Serios had easily said “torture,” but the nobles wouldn’t have allowed it.

Sigrid had given up her remaining temporary antidote, and the best doctors and pharmacists had gathered to analyze it and try to create a new antidote.

Today was the third day of that effort.

Unable to take the antidote, Sigrid was very sick.

No, could the word “sick” adequately describe that pain? The doctors unanimously said that she was still alive only because she had developed some resistance to the poison, because she was young, and because of her good basic physical condition.

On the first day, she vomited blood. On the second day, she had seizures. Today, the third day, she had fallen into a coma. Arkana too had devoted himself to detoxification magic, but if research could be done overnight, countless people wouldn’t have dedicated their long lives to it.

Before long, the former Emperor Yuri, sobbing, revealed where the antidote formula was written. It took less than 15 minutes, a short time compared to the three days of waiting.

“There’s a secret compartment inside the office desk. I know which desk it is.”

Beramund said, wiping the blood from his sword. Arkana looked at him and said.

“What happens if this is discovered?”

“It won’t end with just stripping me of my title.”

Exile, perhaps?

Beramund answered with a brighter face than before, smiling.

“Then we should fix it.”

At Arkana’s words, Beramund blinked as if to say, ‘Oh, that method exists?’ Arkana turned around and frowned.

He knew Beramund was good with a sword, but seeing the results wasn’t particularly pleasant. The former Emperor was lying face down, sobbing and covered in blood. Blood was splattered all over his graying hair and body.

“It’s strange.”

At Arkana’s words, Beramund asked, “What?” Arkana smiled and said.

“That he surrenders after just having his fingers cut and being poked a bit, when he inflicted much worse pain on others.”

“One’s own fingers hurt more.”

“Is that so?”

Arkana gently stepped on the Emperor’s hand. The Emperor screamed.

Most of the wounds on the Emperor’s body were not just from torture to extract information, but seemed to have a strong element of revenge.

But it didn’t feel particularly cruel.

Rather, considering what he had done to Sigrid, Arkana thought it might be good to heal him and start over from the beginning.

The Emperor made choking sounds and then fainted. Arkana reached out, cleanly healed the wounds, and erased the traces as well.

Then Arkana and Beramund headed to the office.

Serios, sitting in the office, looked surprised.

“Beramund?”

“Excuse me for a moment.”

“What? Uh—?”

Serios was pushed away from the desk. Beramund opened all the drawers of the desk as the former Emperor Yuri had kindly and meticulously instructed, then slammed three drawers shut simultaneously with his leg. With a click, a small compartment popped out from the bottom. Beramund took out a bundle of papers from inside.

“What on earth is going on?”

When Serios asked in confusion, Beramund answered.

“The formula for Sigrid’s antidote.”

“How did you find out?”

“I got it from the man himself.”

At those words, Serios’s face hardened.

“Visits to the former Emperor are currently prohibited for everyone.”

“I didn’t visit. This is it. Arkana!”

“Beramund!”

Serios shouted, and Beramund looked at him and said.

“What if it were Erial? Would you still stand by like this?”

“…….”

Serios opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. Arkana snatched the papers from Beramund’s hand and disappeared. He had gone straight to the pharmacy.

Serios asked in a low voice.

“Did you kill him?”

“Of course not.”

“Beramund.”

“He’s fine. The carpet’s just a bit soaked with blood. We cleaned him up nicely. Don’t worry.”

Serios exhaled a sigh that was unclear whether it was relief or something else, and sat down.

“I’m sorry.”

Serios apologized.

“I should have found out sooner.”

“It’s too late.”

“Beramund.”

“I know, it’s your best, and so on and so forth, but what should I do? I can’t get over my anger.”

Serios looked up at Beramund and let out a groan.

“Request anything that might appease your anger.”

“Time?”

Serios closed his mouth. After a moment of silence, he said.

“The former Emperor will soon regret it.”

Beramund looked at him without replying, and Serios said.

“He will regret his actions and take his own life.”

“A peaceful death.”

Beramund, who answered, bowed deeply and respectfully before leaving the office. The guard standing outside saluted with a surprised face, not knowing when Beramund had entered. Beramund ignored this and walked on.

In truth, he was most angry at himself.

He should have used this method much earlier.

The time spent with the optimistic thought that they might find the antidote now felt so wasteful. He felt like trash for having been so complacent.

“Ha—”

Beramund laughed shortly, as if sighing.

‘Just three days ago, if someone had told me I’d be torturing the former Emperor, I wouldn’t have believed it.’

No, even before that, torturing someone was not in line with his character. It was unimaginable. Yet now he had committed such an act and was lamenting not having done it earlier.

Beramund looked at his palm, then dropped his hand and raised it again to cover his eyes.

‘This is hell.’

Isn’t it amazing how much pain can change a person?

‘What would Sigrid say if she knew?’

At that thought, he swallowed.

“She’d have to survive to have any thoughts.”

Muttering this, Beramund quickly left the palace. He regretted not having moved with Arkana.

But with perfect timing, just as he arrived at Sigrid’s mansion, Arkana returned with the completed medicine.

It was a transparent, deep green liquid. If not for Arkana’s magic, it would have taken even longer, as the process included distillation. Arkana handed it to Beramund.

“Is it finished?”

Morris stood up, his face brightening.

“Yes.”

Beramund answered. Arkana said with a dark face.

“We’ll have to hope it works.”

Since the poison had been in her system for a long time, the effect might be reduced. Beramund said “That’s right” and approached the bedside, drinking the antidote.

“What are you—?!”

As Morris reached out in surprise to grab his shoulder, Beramund bent down, grasped Sigrid’s chin to part her lips, and kissed her.

The kiss lasted long enough for the medicine to flow in slowly and sufficiently. Arkana watched expressionlessly, while Morris’s cheeks flushed slightly. He averted his gaze. After finishing the kiss, Beramund exhaled.

Morris asked.

“Where did you go?”

“To get the medicine.”

“With blood on you?”

“Ah.”