Chapter 187: Still Remaining
“But, Frederick, the new group you’ve aligned with after abandoning the Dome Consortium seems rather… small, doesn’t it?”
“…!”
The smile vanished from Frederick’s face in an instant. His crimson eyes wavered violently. No, it can’t be. A chilling premonition sent cold sweat trickling down his spine. When he had been working with the Dome Consortium, Frederick had used the Grant Marquisate and the Vandemir Dukedom as intermediaries to discreetly amass weapons. But after switching to the Havitz Consortium, the power dynamics shifted. Recently, he had been procuring arms through the Owl Corps and the Lester Dukedom.
The problem was that the Owl Corps, originally nurtured under the Vandemir Dukedom’s wing, had fallen out with them and come directly under Frederick’s control. If this were exposed…
His heart pounded erratically. He prayed fervently that this, at least, hadn’t been uncovered. There’s no way Lucas could have figured that out, he told himself.
“There’s a newly established group called the Havitz Consortium,” Lucas continued. “Its origins seemed suspicious, so I looked into it. Turns out, it specializes in illegal arms trading and smuggling.”
But Lucas was neither careless nor easily outmaneuvered.
“We uncovered evidence that the Lester Dukedom and a mysterious militia group called the Owl Corps have been purchasing large quantities of magical artifacts and weapons through this consortium. And when we traced the Owl Corps’ funding, it led back to businesses operated by none other than Frederick.”
“N-no…”
The Duke of Lester’s face turned ashen, and Frederick’s tightly clenched fist trembled. A ripple of unease spread among the nobles aligned with the crown prince.
“Unlike the Vandemir Dukedom, the Lester Dukedom has an especially close relationship with Frederick, doesn’t it? Look, they’re even sitting together now,” Lucas said, his smile infuriatingly radiant as he gestured toward Frederick and the Duke of Lester, seated side by side.
The closer one sat to the crown prince, the more it signaled their status as a trusted confidant. Given the well-known camaraderie between Frederick and the Lester Dukedom, no one could refute Lucas’s observation. Tapping the table lightly, Lucas spoke again, his tone leisurely but pointed.
“Every house closely tied to the crown prince seems to be stockpiling weapons. Is that truly a coincidence?”
With a subtle curl of his lips, he leaned back in his chair, the question hanging in the air like a veiled accusation.
Moments later, as Lucas stepped back, the prince’s faction of nobles surged forward, their voices thick with indignation.
“Historically, secretly amassing weapons is a prelude to rebellion! How could this possibly be a coincidence?” one shouted.
“When coincidences pile up like this, they become inevitable. Even if it’s chance, His Highness the Crown Prince must prove his innocence!” another demanded.
“And despite the existence of the Royal Knights, the presence of an unidentified militia following the crown prince—doesn’t that suggest he’s gathering a rebel army?”
The crown prince’s allies faltered, unable to respond coherently. They hadn’t anticipated such damning evidence. To drive the point home, Lucas leaned forward again.
“What’s more, the Lester Dukedom had the audacity to secretly fund warlocks years ago, profiting from the sale of dark magic artifacts.”
“…!”
The revelation was so shocking that the Duke of Lester shot to his feet without thinking. Frederick shot him a sharp glance, his expression barely controlled. The duke coughed awkwardly and sat back down, trying to appear unfazed, but when Lucas produced a contract linked to the warlocks, his face went blank with shock.
“With the Grant Marquisate and now the Lester Dukedom entangled in dark magic, it’s hard to believe Frederick knew nothing. If he was aware and covered it up, that’s a crime in itself.”
Lucas’s voice carried weight, weaving a tight net around Frederick—tying him to rebellion, murder, and now dark magic. Frederick let out a heavy sigh, unable to suppress it. Instead of clearing his name, the accusations only multiplied, leaving him dizzy with dread.
But in moments like these, he knew he had to stay sharp. Steeling himself, he cast a disdainful glance at the rattled nobles of the crown prince’s faction and spoke with brazen confidence.
“I knew nothing, brother.”
“What didn’t you know?” Lucas asked.
“I had no idea the Lester Dukedom was involved with dark magic or stockpiling weapons.”
Cornered, Frederick resorted to deflection, prioritizing his own survival. To him, everyone else was a pawn—useful when needed, disposable when not. Even if it meant abandoning his allies, he had to escape this crisis.
“In fact, I’m terrified right now, wondering what the Duke of Lester’s true intentions were in approaching me.”
“Your Highness, how could you…!” The Duke of Lester, abruptly cast aside, couldn’t hide his shock. But the raw warning in Frederick’s crimson eyes silenced him. Remember, if I fall, we all go down. The unspoken threat was clear, and Frederick folded his arms, shrugging with bold nonchalance.
“I don’t know anything about the Owl Corps either. I’m completely in the dark, so if you want to pin crimes, look to the Vandemir Dukedom or the Lester Dukedom.”
With their leader slipping free, the crown prince’s nobles descended into chaos, like a ship adrift without its captain. Frederick alone maintained an air of calm, steadfastly insisting on his ignorance and innocence.
As the crown prince’s faction faltered, the prince’s allies hesitated, unsure how to counter. Then, a clear voice cut through the tension.
“With such conflicting claims, discerning the truth is quite the challenge, isn’t it?”
Aracila, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. Her bright voice commanded the room’s attention instantly.
“That’s why I’ve brought something to help.”
“…?”
Unfazed by the sea of eyes on her, Aracila clapped her hands once and flashed a radiant smile. The nobles watched, puzzled, as she reached under the table and pulled out a bag. Only Lucas and Damian remained composed, their gazes steady as she rummaged through it.
From the bag, she produced a glass vial filled with a strange liquid, a mesmerizing blend of pink and blue. Beaming, she announced, “This is a truth serum, developed over the past year at our mage tower.”
Swish, swish.
The liquid sloshed as she shook the vial gently. Its mystical hue briefly captivated the room, and with unwavering confidence, she continued, “Drink this, and we’ll know who’s lying and who’s telling the truth.”
Thud. She set the vial down on the table with a deliberate sound, snapping the onlookers out of their trance. The revelation of a truth serum—the first in decades—sent a murmur through the meeting hall. Frederick froze, staring at the vial like a statue. For someone who had spun so many lies, the serum was anything but welcome.
I’m finished if I drink that.
And of all people, it was Aracila, the future master of the mage tower, who had brought it. Her reputation left no room for doubt, heightening his unease.
Aracila… you’re determined to drive me to ruin.
He glared at her with resentment. He had planned to pin the rebellion on the Vandemir Dukedom while sparing her, but now betrayal stung his heart. As he wallowed in despair, Lucas stepped forward, carrying the serum to the emperor and bowing respectfully.
“Your Majesty, why not use this truth serum to uncover the truth?”
At those words, Frederick shot up, his head snapping upright as he protested vehemently. “How can we trust that and drink it? The truth serum’s primary ingredient went extinct long ago, and its production was halted!”
“The Magic Tower officially confirmed that they’ve revived the Dilai flower, the key ingredient,” Lucas countered with a gentle smile. “You must’ve been too busy to read the papers, Frederick.”
Indeed, Frederick had been so consumed by court meetings that he hadn’t had time to check recent news. But he couldn’t afford to lose ground here, so he slammed the table and shot back, “Even so, it’s not trustworthy! Who knows what side effects it might have if we drink it recklessly?”
“Then I’ll drink it first,” Lucas said calmly. “Once I prove there are no side effects, you can drink it, Frederick. Fair enough?”
“What…!?”
Before anyone could stop him, Lucas opened the vial and downed the truth serum. Frederick stared, dumbfounded, as Lucas emptied every last drop and turned to the emperor with a courteous request.
“Your Majesty, please question me directly.”
“Hmm, very well,” the emperor replied, his expression intrigued as he observed his son’s bold move. If the truth serum had truly been perfected, it would undoubtedly prove invaluable to him. Noticing no discernible change in his eldest son after drinking the serum, the emperor began slowly.
“What is your name?”
“I am Fre—” Lucas started, attempting a lie, but his lips trembled and froze. A furrow creased his handsome brow as his tongue seemed to move beyond his control. “Lucas,” he corrected.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three… ngh, twenty-four.”
Each time Lucas tried to lie, his lips betrayed him, forcing the truth out. The emperor, watching closely, issued a command. “From now on, Prince, answer only with the truth.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“When did you learn of the crown prince’s treason?”
“Since last year.”
“And why didn’t you inform me sooner?”
Lucas answered without hesitation, even under the emperor’s sharp, probing question. “Because accusing him without solid evidence would likely have backfired on me. To succeed in a hunt, you must seize the prey by the throat when the moment is certain.”
The emperor let out a wry chuckle at the spirited response. His eldest son, who had always seemed carefree and unambitious, was proving himself anew. The curiosity on the emperor’s face had now shifted to confidence in the truth serum’s efficacy.
“It seems the serum is quite effective,” he remarked.
“Your Majesty, will you permit its use, then?” Lucas asked.
“Very well,” the emperor agreed.
No sooner had the emperor given his approval than Aracila produced another vial of truth serum from her bag. At the sight of the additional bottles, the crown prince’s faction stiffened in alarm. Sensing the danger, they vociferously opposed the serum.
“Your Majesty, this cannot be allowed! Who knows what side effects it might cause!” one protested.
“Look at Prince Lucas—he’s perfectly fine, isn’t he?” another countered.
“What he drank might be safe, but these others could be defective or tampered with!”
Frederick, too, desperately resisted taking the serum. He genuinely distrusted it, uncertain of what might be mixed into the vials. “My brother has long coveted the throne!” he accused, pointing at Lucas with bloodshot eyes, his voice a final, frantic plea. “This is all a trap to frame me and steal the crown prince’s title!”
“Really, Frederick? You think you have no reason to plot treason?” Lucas cut in sharply, his gaze cold and mocking. “You’re the crown prince, not the emperor. If you’re greedy for the throne now, you’d have every reason to orchestrate a rebellion.”
“I’ve never harbored such ambitions—!” Frederick began, but Lucas interrupted again.
“And more importantly, there’s no guarantee you’ll hold the crown prince’s title forever.” A clear sneer curled Lucas’s lips. Frederick stood frozen, as if doused with ice water, staring at his brother. “Because you didn’t earn that position through your own strength. You hold it only because you’re the empress’s son. That’s why you’re so anxious, so terrified that I might take it from you.”
“…Don’t spout nonsense! Why would I fear the likes of you?” Frederick retorted, but his trembling body betrayed his words. He bit his lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Lucas picked up two vials of truth serum and fixed his brother with a piercing stare. “If you’re so worried about what’s in the serum, let’s drink it together. If something happens, we’ll both suffer. If nothing does, we’ll both be fine.”
“…I still refuse,” Frederick said stubbornly.
The emperor’s brow furrowed at this defiance, his expression darkening. “Frederick, drink it with Lucas,” he ordered.
“Your Majesty!” Frederick pleaded, looking at the emperor with desperate eyes, but the emperor remained unmoved.
“It is my command. Drink.”
To refuse now would be tantamount to treason. With trembling hands, Frederick took the vial Lucas had half-drunk and raised it to his lips. His face contorted as if he were swallowing poison, gulping it down. Lucas, meanwhile, drank half of the second vial and passed the rest to his brother.
Once both vials were empty and the stage was set, the emperor began his questioning.
“What is your name?”
“Lucas,” Lucas answered promptly.
“…Frederick,” Frederick muttered, his face already clouded with dread despite the simple question.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four,” Lucas replied.
“Twenty-three,” Frederick said.
After these basic inquiries, the emperor’s eyes gleamed with sharp intent. In a voice heavy with authority, he asked, “Have you lied to me here today?”
“No,” Lucas responded immediately.
“…Urk!” Frederick faltered, unable to answer easily. He strained to hold his tongue, fighting against the serum’s compulsion, but his body betrayed him. His mouth opened as if forced. “Y… yes,” he stammered, the words broken but unmistakable.
The emperor’s expression turned icy, and the nobles aligned with the crown prince paled, their faces suggesting they might collapse on the spot.
“Frederick, did you truly plot treason?” the emperor pressed.
“…Yes, I did,” Frederick admitted.
“With those seated beside you?”
“Yes.”
Once the dam broke, his answers flowed freely. Frederick hung his head, his face etched with despair.
“There’s nothing more to ask,” the emperor declared, rising with a face thunderous with rage. Despite his advancing years, his voice rang out with commanding power. “Immediately strip Frederick of his title as crown prince and throw him in the dungeon! Seize all those complicit in his treason as well!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” the knights responded, storming into the chamber to bind the crown prince’s allies. Only then did the nobles fall to their knees, begging.
“Your Majesty, no! We’ve done nothing wrong!”
“We’re innocent! Please, believe us!”
“Your Majesty, have mercy!”
But the emperor paid their pleas no heed, waving them away as if their cries were mere noise. Frederick sat dazed, unmoving even as the knights approached. He offered no resistance, too stunned to fight back.
As the nobles, still pleading pitifully, and Frederick were dragged away, the chamber fell silent.
“Arrest their entire families,” the emperor continued, “and seize the House of Grant as well.”
“It will be done, Your Majesty,” a knight replied.
“And as for the House of Vandemir—”
The duke and duchess, who had been watching with smug satisfaction from the sidelines, flinched. The emperor fixed them with a steady gaze before continuing. “Given their decisive testimony and the loss of their son to the crown prince’s schemes, their punishment will be lightened…”
The ducal couple’s faces brightened with relief at the emperor’s show of mercy. But then, a voice interrupted.
“Your Majesty, I have something to say.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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