WCMT 05

<Episode 5>

“Oh my, you’ve gotten up by yourself again.”

The maid Dora exclaimed when she saw me.

She’s been doing that—getting startled—for several days now.

And I, for several days, have been failing to ascend to the afterlife.

I really have done my best.

I prayed all day, I tried sleeping, I even banged my head against the wall to faint.

I wanted to try astral projection too, but I didn’t know how, so that failed.

I didn’t do anything drastic like take my own life—after all, my descendant’s soul might still be living in this body.

But aside from that, I’ve tried everything.

I even willingly gave up my imperial dignity.

‘So why on earth can’t I ascend?!’

Instead of enlightenment, I was only treated like a lunatic.

So I thought back to the moment when I first entered Iraneria’s body.

There had been a fire in the palace.
Maybe if I recreated that situation—got trapped in flames and fainted—I could finally leave this body?

Luckily, I already had something perfect to burn.

I’d just use all those damned records written about me as kindling.

I sprang to my feet and left the room.

“Princess! Where are you going again, Princess!”

Ignoring Dora’s voice behind me, I slipped into the archive room.

While selecting which vile books would make the best offering for my enlightenment, I noticed a letter preserved inside a glass frame.

It was so old and torn that only fragments of the writing were legible—something anyone else would have thrown out as trash.

But I knew exactly what that paper was.

It was a letter I wrote around 110 years ago.

After hearing that those Paradon bastards betrayed our allied nation and sided with the Levana Temple, I’d sent it to Pellion in a fit of rage—a very personal letter.

[Ah, I’m so furious I could lose my mind. Those Paradon scum—I’ll make them display their entrails in public! How dare they swindle me?
Just let me catch them. No, even if I don’t—they’re dead. If I don’t tear that puny Paradon territory into a hundred pieces, I’m no emperor. And while I’m at it, I’ll chop off the heads of the nobles who sided with them too—]

Where did all my elegant, dignified imperial diction go?

And this is what they’ve decided to preserve so reverently?

No wonder people called me a tyrant!

Boiling with indignation again, I buried my face in my hands.

And then—like a flash of lightning—an idea struck me.

‘Yes, that’s it!’

My records were in ruins—that alone was enough to make even a dead emperor turn in his grave.

Maybe that’s exactly why I’ve come back.

Perhaps Shamah took pity on me, seeing my glorious legacy so distorted, and placed my soul into my descendant’s body.

That had to be it. There was no other explanation for my return.

‘Descendant, forgive me. Just wait a little longer. Once I set the record straight, I’m sure I’ll ascend automatically.’

Think of it as living with a namesake of your great ancestor.

When I reclaim my rightful fame, you’ll share in the glory too!

After making this silent pact with the body’s original owner, I put down the book and rose from my seat.

Outside, I ran into Dora, who had chased after me.

“Princess, if you keep disappearing like this, you’ll scare me to death!”

“Livers don’t just fall out that easily.”

“Oh, really! You’ll be the death of me!”

Pretending not to see her clutching her chest, I kept walking down the hall.

Servants were scurrying about more than usual.

“What’s going on today? Things look busy.”

Dora froze in place behind me.

When I ignored her and continued walking, she caught up again, looking exasperated.

“You were counting the days until today… did you really forget?”

“Hm?”

“It’s the day Princess Kinesia returns!”

“Ah. Kinesia?”

The twin sister of Fonent—and eldest princess of that damned kingdom?

So it’s her return day.

“Right. But what are they doing over there?”

I jerked my chin toward the window. Dora craned her neck to look.

“They’re decorating the palace for the welcome party. Foreign envoys are coming too.”

“That?”

They were draping what looked like burlap over the trees.

Looking closer, it was lace—so frayed it looked like cobwebs fluttering in the wind.

A ‘welcome home’ decoration, was it? For a trip to the afterlife, maybe?

“They’d be better off doing nothing.”

“But then the palace would look too plain.”

“Plain is better than creepy.”

“…”

Dora only smiled faintly, hands still moving busily.

I guess not everyone in Epiphanes had lost their sense of aesthetics—thank goodness.

Passing the bustling servants, I reached a fully decorated hall.

So foreign envoys were coming, huh?

Then why bring out plated decorations? Were the peeled, rusty candlesticks not pathetic enough already?

Feeling the tension rise in my neck, I closed my eyes and sighed deeply—when suddenly, a weight landed on my shoulder.

Turning, I found Fonent grinning at me.

“Why the sigh, so early in the morning?”

Perfect timing.

“Come with me for a bit.”

“Huh? Why?”

Why else? Because this wretched kingdom is about to become the continent’s laughingstock, that’s why!

Sure, I call it a wretched kingdom too—but that’s different.

I earned the right to insult it.

These descendants ruined everything I built. I have every right to complain.

But I won’t let outsiders laugh at us. They can mock me—but not us.

So yes, time to polish things up a little.

I grabbed Fonent by the arm and dragged him along.

This was something I’d planned to take to my grave… ah, right. I am dead already.

Still, I’d meant to keep it secret even after death—but I’ll make an exception.

He’ll probably faint when he sees it.

“You should be honored I’m taking you along. I need a strong back.”

“What kind of sister calls her brother a ‘back’? You’re acting wild just because Kinesia’s coming, huh?”

I dodged the hand reaching for my ear and marched out of the palace.

Leading him behind the building, I stopped before a door that led underground.

Fonent, who had followed without question, froze when I stopped in front of the dungeon entrance.

I reached for the door, but he grabbed my wrist in horror.

“Hey! Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were headed to the library…”

“Nope.”

“Even so, you can’t go down there!”

“It’s fine.”

“I said you can’t!”

“I said it’s fine!”

Back in my reign, I’d confiscated the nobles’ illegal slush funds—illegally—and with nowhere else to stash them, I’d hidden them in a vault.

Just enough to maintain some dignity in front of foreign diplomats.

Over a hundred years have passed, but I cast multiple layers of magic on it—no one could’ve stolen or ruined it.

The vault was below the underground prison, accessible only through a hidden passage.
And beyond that, the vault door required a secret code.

So my treasures should still be perfectly safe.

If anyone asked how I knew, I could just say I read it in the records.

Who’d believe anyone actually read through a thousand volumes of royal chronicles?

“Shh! Just be quiet and follow me.”

“No! I’m not going.”

Fonent folded his arms and stood firm.

So much for gratitude. Fine, whatever.

“I’ll go alone then.”

I was about to open the door when suddenly my feet left the ground—my stomach slammed against Fonent’s shoulder.

How dare he lift an emperor like this?!

I pounded on his back with both fists, kicking wildly.

“Hey! Let go! Do you hear me?! How dare you!”

He paused, sighed deeply, and kept walking.

He didn’t set me down until we’d left the palace grounds.

Then, looking at me like a hopeless troublemaker, he sighed again.

“What’s gotten into you lately?”

Guilt made my eyes wander to the horizon.

Nearby, I spotted Floretta admiring some flowers. When our eyes met, she approached hesitantly.

Before I could answer, Fonent pressed again.

“Well? What is with you?”

“Ahem, what about me?”

“You’ve been acting like a wild colt.”

Floretta spoke softly.

“She’s always been like that.”

Startled by her sudden interjection, Fonent clutched his chest—then nodded.

“True. But lately…”

He propped his chin, thinking hard for the right comparison.

“Ah! Before, you were just a colt. Now you’re a mad colt.”

Remarkable eloquence. Truly worth the pause for thought.

I snorted and turned away.

As I started back toward the palace, Fonent stepped in front of me.

Behind him, Floretta timidly tugged at the hem of my dress.

I flicked her hand away gently and looked up.

Fonent held up his index finger right in front of my face, looking stern.

I was this close to biting it.

“Seriously, no. The place you were heading for—it’s the underground prison.”

I wasn’t too bothered, but Floretta jumped like a startled rabbit.

“Th—the underground prison?”

“Yeah!”

Encouraged by her reaction, Fonent grew animated.

“You think it’s just a dungeon? It’s a terrifying labyrinth. People say once you enter, you can’t come out.”

Floretta nodded vigorously.

“Right! I heard it was designed by a terrible tyrant—uh, you know, Emperor Irane?”

That’s me.

So don’t you dare call me a tyrant.