Chapter 176: The Truth of the Past
“Sister, please, save Brady!”
Riley’s tear-streaked face, smeared with snot, lifted in a desperate plea. Aracila let out a sigh and gestured for him to step aside.
Kneeling on one knee, she examined Brady’s condition closely. Deep stab wounds marred his side and back, his clothes drenched in blood that had seeped from the gashes.
His condition was far graver than she’d expected—severe enough that it wouldn’t be surprising if he died on the spot. Aracila’s expression hardened.
Brady’s face was deathly pale, his breaths shallow and faint, like those of a man teetering on the edge of death.
“Can’t you do something with magic?” Riley choked out, sobbing.
“You think magic’s some kind of cure-all? Stop crying and hold his neck up carefully.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Wiping his eyes roughly with his sleeve, Riley gently slipped a hand behind his friend’s neck to lift it.
Aracila reached inside her robe and pulled out a small vial—an expensive healing potion from the Magic Tower. Even someone like her, tasked with tracking down an assassin who’d infiltrated the imperial city, carried it as a precaution.
Good thing I didn’t forget to bring it, despite the hassle.
Praising her own foresight, Aracila carefully poured the potion between Brady’s slightly parted lips. He groaned softly as he swallowed, the liquid trickling down.
As the potion dwindled, the bluish pallor of his face gradually gave way to a healthier hue. His breathing steadied, becoming even and rhythmic, and the bleeding stopped.
“I’ve given him first aid,” Aracila said. “Now, if a doctor treats him properly, he’ll live.”
“Is that really true?!”
“Yes. So pick up your friend and follow me.”
Aracila shook out her robe and stood, beckoning with a flick of her hand. Riley, still bewildered, looked up at her cautiously.
“Why? Where are we going…?”
“To my house. He’s the only survivor, so we need to keep him alive to get his testimony.”
Her tone was resolute.
That had been her sole purpose in coming here and helping these two—not out of concern for assassins, but to secure the truth.
She took a step forward, jerking her chin to signal they should follow.
Though a little intimidated, Riley had been worrying about where to go next. He quickly hoisted Brady onto his back.
Aracila brought them to her estate, gave them a guest room, and summoned a doctor to tend to Brady. While the doctor worked diligently, she turned to Riley.
“Stay here until he wakes up. We can’t have you wandering around, leaking information or exposing your location.”
“Yes, ma’am, don’t worry. I’ll stay put. When Brady wakes up, I’ll make sure he tells you everything you want to know!”
Riley clenched his fist, as if repaying her kindness was his duty. Aracila merely shrugged.
Even if they didn’t cooperate willingly, she had countless ways to make them talk, but a smoother path was preferable.
Still, she didn’t fully trust them. To prevent any escape attempts, she stationed servants to guard the door until Brady recovered. Finding them again would be a hassle.
It was two days later when Brady, under Riley’s devoted care, finally opened his eyes.
“Brady, you’re awake? Do you recognize me?!”
“…Ri-Riley? How are you…?”
Brady’s dazed eyes met his friend’s. Overwhelmed, Riley grabbed his shoulders and explained, “I went to the guild when things felt off, and it was a mess—I was shocked. I got there too late to save anyone but you…”
His voice trailed off, his expression darkening. Brady, recalling the carnage just before he lost consciousness, shuddered.
Everyone else in the guild must be dead. His own survival was nothing short of a miracle.
The image of black-clad attackers, marked with night owl insignias, storming the cabin and slaughtering his comrades flashed in his mind. Brady’s body trembled.
Riley, watching his friend’s bitter expression, suddenly perked up as if remembering something. He shot to his feet.
“Oh, right! The future head of the Magic Tower saved us. She said to call her the moment you woke up! Hold on, I’ll bring her right away!”
He darted out of the room like an arrow. Brady, left alone, wore a bewildered expression.
The future head of the Magic Tower helped us?
What could possibly connect an underworld assassin to someone as revered as the next leader of the Magic Tower?
Moments later, Riley returned, and behind him appeared the very woman Brady had only seen in newspapers.
His jaw dropped. She was ten times more beautiful than her portraits, and he hadn’t expected to ever meet her in person.
“That’s really the future head of the Magic Tower…?”
“Brady, don’t use informal speech. She doesn’t like it.”
“Oh. That’s really the esteemed future head of the Magic Tower…?”
Riley, pleased with the quick correction, shot Aracila a glance as if seeking approval. Ignoring him, she pulled a chair to the bedside and sat down.
Brady, still in disbelief, stared at her as she crossed her arms and met his gaze. He bowed his head awkwardly.
“Um, thank you so much for saving me.”
“Sure. How’s your body? I’ve got questions for you—can you talk?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Good. Tell me everything that happened to your guild, without leaving anything out.”
Caught off guard by her sudden interrogation, Brady hesitated. Riley stepped in to explain her intentions.
After listening with wide eyes, Brady swallowed hard and began to speak slowly.
Guild members had been dying mysteriously, one after another. The survivors gathered in a mountain cabin, plotting revenge and determined to uncover the night owl’s identity.
The guild leader, who had personally taken on the contract, pulled every connection to dig into the night owl’s trail.
And then they uncovered a shocking truth.
“We saw the night owl meeting with Joseph Miller, the deputy commander of the Imperial Knights. Digging deeper, we found… the Lester Dukedom.”
Aracila’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t expected the Lester Dukedom to come up.
“So the Lester Dukedom is behind the night owl?”
“No, no, that’s not it. The true mastermind…” Brady hesitated, his eyes wavering. “If you hear this, there’s no turning back. Are you sure you want to know?”
The guild’s annihilation had been the price of uncovering this truth—a truth that should have stayed buried. Fearing he might drag his savior into the same danger, Brady faltered.
But Aracila’s response was unwavering.
“Tell me. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“…If you’re that determined, alright. Their true master… is His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Riley gasped, his face paling in shock. The mention of the Lester Dukedom was bad enough, but the Crown Prince? He felt like he might faint.
Aracila, however, merely lowered her gaze, her expression unchanged. She’d suspected this figure, so it wasn’t entirely surprising.
Still, the involvement of the Lester Dukedom, rather than the Vandermir Dukedom, caught her off guard.
Come to think of it, Lady White mentioned that the Lester Dukedom also supported Marquis Grant.
It was the Duchess of Lester who had helped Nora re-enter high society at Marquis Grant’s request.
At the time, Aracila had assumed it was due to the duchess’s friendship with Lady White, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“The contract your guild took from the night owl—it was to kill Lord Vandermir, wasn’t it?”
“…Yes, that’s right. And to leave a letter behind.”
“Was the weapon planted by you as well?”
“What?”
Brady shook his head, puzzled. Their role had been solely to end Oscar’s life.
“We were told to return the weapon, so we did. All our weapons came from the night owl.”
“I see.”
That meant everything that followed was Frederick’s doing—or rather, Frederick and his night owl operatives.
“…I’m sorry. For harming your family.”
It was the first time Brady had faced the kin of an assassination target. Unable to be brazen in her presence, he hung his head.
Aracila waved a hand dismissively. She felt some pity for Oscar, but not enough to be angry at Brady.
“Forget it. What matters now is finding out who framed my husband.”
“Oh… still, I’m sorry. You saved my life, and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay this debt.”
“Later, when you stand before others, speak the truth without a shred of deceit. Tell them who ordered you to kill Oscar Vandemir.”
“I will.”
With all his comrades dead, Brady was left with nothing but vengeance and malice.
Even if the target was the crown prince, he’d drag him down to ruin with him, no matter what.
Seeing the resolve in Brady’s eyes, Aracila gave a faint, satisfied smile. Rising leisurely, she said,
“From now on, you don’t leave this place without my permission. I’ll cast a spell to ensure you can’t escape, so keep that in mind.”
“Yes, understood. I’ll accept whatever judgment you pass.”
“Me too, ma’am,” Riley added.
Both men bowed their heads submissively.
With Owl’s side likely hunting Brady with relentless fervor, staying under Aracila’s control was, frankly, far safer.
Satisfied, Aracila left the room and strode purposefully toward her study.
Something Brady had said earlier had sparked a memory.
To confirm it, she retrieved the ledger of the Dome Merchant Guild from her study’s shelves.
Her blue eyes meticulously scanned the purchase records of the Vandemir Ducal House.
“8 dark magic bombs purchased / 25 total accumulated”
“10 sets of enchanted armor purchased / 30 total accumulated”
“3 mana suppression stones purchased / 12 total accumulated”
Finding what she sought, a hollow laugh slipped from Aracila’s lips.
No wonder it felt so familiar.
From the moment she realized it was “Owl” and not some other bird, a nagging sense of unease had plagued her.
The presence of “Owl” felt all too familiar.
And just now, it had clicked into place. In the prophetic dream of Iris’s death, Aracila had seen them.
It was in a newspaper article reporting her sister’s passing.
“The traitor Oscar Vandemir, using over a hundred enchanted weapons and a private Owl Legion, attempted to attack the imperial family but was discovered and took his own life. His widow, left alone, quietly confessed her crimes and faced execution…”
In the dream, Aracila, consumed by grief over her sister’s death, had devoured every word of that article, etching it into her memory.
The details had remained vivid as a result.
But upon waking, she’d been so focused on Iris’s death itself that she’d overlooked the rest.
Strange, though. In the future I saw, the Owl Legion was supposed to be led by Oscar or the Vandemir Ducal House…
So why was Frederick their master?
Aracila recalled how close Oscar and Frederick had seemed at the New Year’s festival.
In truth, if either of them were to orchestrate a rebellion, Frederick was the more likely candidate.
Oscar was too foolish, too cowardly, too driven by immediate desires—fathering an illegitimate child proved he lacked the vision for grand schemes.
Frederick, on the other hand, was patient, cunning, and bold enough to do whatever it took to seize what he wanted.
The idea that someone like Oscar would amass enchanted weapons and build a private army to plot treason felt increasingly implausible.
But if he’d been assisting Frederick in a rebellion, that made sense. It fit Oscar’s dependent, opportunistic nature perfectly.
If, in the future I saw, it wasn’t Oscar but Frederick who planned the rebellion…
If Oscar had merely been used and then discarded, that would mean Frederick was the true culprit who drove Iris, innocent, to her death.
A chill ran down Aracila’s spine.
In her prophetic dream, Frederick had helped her sneak into the prison and stood by her side as she wept over Iris’s death.
She’d been grateful for that, which was why, in reality, she hadn’t immediately cast him aside.
That despicable wretch. He killed her and had the gall to act like that.
Confirming that the Grant Marquisate’s purchase records were strikingly similar to those of the Vandemir Ducal House, Aracila clenched her fists tightly.
If not for Damian, the Grant Marquisate would still be Frederick’s right hand.
If they, accused of treason and facing ruin, had been procuring items similar to the Vandemir Ducal House, the reason was obvious.
Frederick, the Vandemir Ducal House, and the Grant Marquisate had been in league together, with Frederick at the helm.
That bastard Frederick… I’ll make sure he pays.
Fury blazed in Aracila’s blue eyes as she ground her teeth.
She could never forgive Frederick, who had killed Iris in her dream and now sent Damian into mortal danger.
She vowed to bring him down and make him face justice.
With her return to the Magic Tower just a day away, Aracila carefully organized her tangled thoughts.
In her prophetic dream, the roles of Oscar and the Vandemir Ducal House seemed to have shifted to the Lester Ducal House.
Frederick had abandoned the Vandemir Ducal House to eliminate Damian.
Since Damian was likely to inherit the ducal title if left unchecked, it was a strategic move for Frederick.
Swallowing the now-heirless and vulnerable Vandemir Ducal House would be a gain in itself.
For now, I need to focus on taking down Frederick and the Lester Ducal House. As for the Vandemir Ducal House…
Leaning against her bed, Aracila sank into thought.
With the main enemy redefined, what to do with the Vandemir Ducal House had become murky.
They, too, had been betrayed, and for Damian’s future, it wouldn’t do to let the Vandemir Ducal House fall alongside Frederick.
Maybe it’s better to let Damian handle it when he returns.
As she mused, her gaze drifted to something on the table.
It was Monica’s diary, which Howard had shown her earlier.
So focused on uncovering Owl’s identity, she’d left it open to the first page, neglected on the table.
Damian’s mother’s diary… Would it be alright if I read it?
Though she’d learned Cyan Mondor’s identity, she still didn’t know why Monica had hidden the jewelry box so carefully.
Howard believed it was something Monica left for her grandson, so there had to be a reason.
The diary, the glass bottle of tea leaves, the note with a name written on it.
What significance did those three items in the jewelry box hold? Could they help Damian? Aracila wanted to know.
Rising from her seat, she draped a shawl over her shoulders and approached the table.
Her pale fingers carefully lifted the diary and began turning its pages.
The lamplight on the wall illuminated the words vividly.
Her hands quickened as she flipped through, and a look of shock spread across her calm face.
The diary contained a staggering truth.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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