Chapter 19.
The High Priest’s Furious Prophecy
When I said I wanted to clear out the Queen’s Palace lounge to use as a training ground, Chief Attendant Colin’s expression became quite peculiar.
“A training ground, Your Majesty…?”
“Yes. Just some simple sword training. It’d be even better if I can pick up spear techniques later too.”
“Um… Are you able to wield a sword, Your Majesty?”
Seeing Colin dare to question the Queen’s words, I raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Are there no women who use swords in Fritan?”
“N-no, Your Majesty. It’s just… I can’t quite imagine the Queen holding a sword…”
Colin quickly bowed his head in apology.
“I will immediately have the lounge converted into a training ground. Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
While giving Colin a few more instructions about what I needed for the training area, I received a report that the heating magic stones installed in the Queen’s Palace had been safely returned to the royal treasury.
The once-empty storage had been filled more than two-thirds of the way. Knowing that we had managed to conserve those rare heating stones—more valuable than diamonds—was a small relief.
Just like that, another hectic day passed.
***
“Your Majesty! Please, let me see His Majesty the Emperor!”
The Emperor of Harun, who had fallen asleep after spending the night with his ninth concubine, was awakened by a sudden commotion. The concubine, who also woke up, frowned and summoned a maid.
“What’s all that noise?”
“Well… High Priest Harris is making a scene outside the imperial bedchamber, demanding to see His Majesty immediately.”
The Emperor scowled at the name of the intruder.
“Has the High Priest’s isolation prayer period ended already?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. He completed the four-month ritual an hour ago.”
“Tch. So the moment it ended, he ran straight here.”
With a grimace, the Emperor rose from bed.
“Are you going now?” the concubine asked in surprise.
The Emperor, already in a robe, left the chamber with a hard expression.
The elderly High Priest with white hair, who was arguing with the guards outside, glared fiercely when he spotted the Emperor.
“Did you truly send Yurahel’s daughter to the North?”
“Let’s speak somewhere private.”
Though his eyes were full of dissatisfaction, High Priest Harris followed the Emperor.
Once the two entered the Emperor’s private study, the door shut firmly behind them.
“Answer me. What did you do with Yurahel’s daughter?”
Faced with the enraged High Priest’s demand, the Emperor slowly raised his eyes to meet his.
After four months of fasting on only water and salt, Harris had become so gaunt his cheeks were hollowed, and his long white beard and hair tangled wildly.
But his eyes were sharper and fiercer than anyone alive.
“The King of Fritan cut off Duke Jake’s arm and sent it to me. Since then, I’ve been plagued every night with nightmares of him slitting my throat. I sent that girl away for the sake of my peaceful sleep. It was a worthwhile trade.”
“For the sake of your sleep, you should’ve cut off that fool Duke Jake’s head and sent that to the King of Fritan!” Harris burst out, his face contorted with rage.
“Who’s to say that would’ve satisfied the King of Fritan? There were no guarantees.”
The Emperor exploded back, equally furious—he hadn’t enjoyed the decision either.
“You think I liked sending her? I was planning to make her my twelfth, most cherished concubine! I didn’t feel great about it either.”
“Hah!”
“I just wanted to survive. What does the future glory of the Empire matter if I’m dead?”
“And you call yourself Emperor of this nation?!”
“Why not?”
The Emperor sneered.
“Does that so-called divine power even exist? She’s already twenty and hasn’t shown a trace of it. If she can’t even awaken it, it’s more useful for her pretty little face to buy me a few more days of life. Don’t you think?”
“Have you forgotten what happened to the priestess Yurahel?!”
High Priest Harris’s voice thundered with fury.
Yurahel—once the greatest priestess, with the strongest prophetic and healing powers he had ever seen.
But because of the Emperor’s mistress’s jealousy, she had been forced into danger, banished from the temple, and died a tragic death.
Her daughter, Leia, had grown up miserably under the watchful eye of the Emperor’s dog, Marquis Uzkal, who only cared about money.
In fact, Harris and the High Priestess had planned to secretly move Leia to the Holy Empire—where the Emperor’s reach couldn’t follow—once the isolation prayer ended.
But in that short time, she’d been sold to a war-crazed monster—during a period when Harris was powerless to act, bound by his sacred vow.
Clearly, this was all orchestrated to bypass his opposition.
Then, suddenly, Harris’s breathing grew ragged, his eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible—a clear sign that a divine prophecy or vision was being received.
“O foolish Emperor of Harun. The divine power Yurahel sealed within Leia has begun to awaken.”
“W-what?”
“The Harun Empire, having lost her light, now marches toward ruin. Meanwhile, the Kingdom of Fritan has been given wings. The Emperor of Harun walks willingly to his doom—toward the point of the Fritan King’s spear.”
THUD!
In a rage, the Emperor hurled a paperweight, which struck the High Priest in the forehead. Harris staggered, blood trickling from his brow.
“Watch your tongue if you value your life. Or I’ll rip it out.”
Grabbing the trembling old man by the collar, the Emperor growled low and dangerous.
“Divine agent of the Goddess, High Priest Harris. I’m sure your long four-month prayer gave you much clarity. But remember—every soul only gets one life.”
After throwing Harris to the floor, the Emperor stormed out of the study. His shadow knights then escorted the still-dazed High Priest back to the temple.
There, he was locked inside his private quarters.
***
“Will, you’re putting some feelings into this massage, aren’t you?”
“Does it hurt? Then I’ll go easier.”
Despite his words, William’s massive hands kneading Micloc’s bare shoulders only pressed harder.
Micloc lay face-down on a makeshift cot in a temporary tent, shirtless as William expertly massaged his stiff back and shoulders.
Though William was still sour about the scarf incident, he knew that if he didn’t loosen these knotted muscles, it could affect Micloc’s performance in tomorrow’s battle—so he dug in even harder.
While William and Ralph remained awkward, they still did their jobs well.
Next to the cot stood Ralph, vice-captain of the Special Knights, and Joseph, the second battalion commander who had joined the unit ten days ago.
It had been a month since Micloc and the Fritan knights wiped out the Maon tribe. The monsters and demons along the border now kept their heads down, and skirmishes had given way to sudden ambushes.
Just this morning, another surprise attack had caused some casualties.
For Micloc—who wanted to finish the subjugation and return home quickly—this shift in tactics was deeply annoying.
“Still no word from the scouts?”
Lying under William’s hands, Micloc checked on the battlefield conditions.
“No, Your Highness. The farther south they go, the deeper the enemy hides. The longer we delay, the worse it becomes.”
“It may be best to increase your security, in case another ambush like this morning happens,” Ralph suggested.
Micloc shook his head.
“I can handle myself. Use that time to kill more monsters instead.”
“But if thousands of them swarm at once like today, even you can’t handle it, Your Highness! Numbers matter!” William muttered as he pressed harder.
Just then, a commotion outside the tent was followed by Ralph’s twin brother, Freddy, entering.
“Prince Micloc, a letter from Her Majesty the Queen has arrived.”
“Really?”
Micloc started to sit up, but William’s thick arms pushed him right back down.
“Will, I got a letter.”
“Listen to it lying down. If I don’t finish this, you won’t even be able to lift a sword later. Tell Freddy to read it.”
Seeing William’s insistence, Micloc reluctantly settled back down.
“Alright, then read it. Ahem… ‘My dearest Mic~’”
“Ugh!”
Freddy choked on the very first line and began squirming, rubbing his arms like he had goosebumps. The other knights stifled laughter.
“Can’t you read properly?”
“M-my apologies. I’ll start again.”
‘My dearest Mic, it’s already been a month since you left. You’re doing well, right? I’m fine too, though I’m still adjusting to Fritan’s autumn weather, which feels like the dead of winter…’
“Sigh… I should’ve installed more heating stones. This is all your fault, Will!”
Micloc glared at William, who averted his gaze. Freddy quickly read the next line.
‘But don’t think of installing more heating stones in the Queen’s Palace—unless you’re trying to cook me alive.’
“Ahem.“
“You heard that?”
This time, William looked proudly at Micloc.
‘I already told you I turned the lounge into a training ground, right? Lately, I’ve been practicing swordsmanship every morning with Millie. Once I build up my stamina, I should be able to handle Fritan’s cold better.’
“Hmm… I wonder how cute she must look swinging a sword.”
With his eyes closed, Micloc grinned to himself, forgetting that knights were watching as he muttered to no one in particular.
The others looked horrified by his words, but he didn’t seem to notice.
‘I’ve recently hired a new tutor—the Duchess Emily Zenon. I study Fritan history, culture, and the noble social scene three times a week. In a way, it’s the most practical education I’ve had.’
“Social scene power struggles? Does that even exist in a place like Fritan?”
Micloc turned his head in confusion. Ralph replied,
“Even three noble ladies can form a hierarchy. Fritan may have fewer than thirty noble houses, but the politics and rivalries are real.”
William quietly added as he spread oil across Micloc’s back,
“My mother was bullied before marriage because of the social scene.”
“The Countess of Giles? That gentle, timid woman? Why would anyone target her?”
“Before marrying my father, she was called the butterfly of Fritan’s social world. She drew all the young noblemen’s attention, which made her a thorn in the side of many ladies.”
William glanced at Ralph and Freddy.
“Especially Baroness Thoron. She was the worst.”
The twins’ expressions darkened. Clearly, they knew all about their mother’s youthful antics. Ralph murmured awkwardly,
“She deeply regrets her immature mistakes and later gave a proper apology to the Countess.”
“Yes. She said if she’d known she was courting the Earl of Giles, she’d never have done such a thing.”
At Freddy’s unnecessary comment, Ralph shot him a sharp glare.
When the social butterfly of Fritan announced she would marry the kingdom’s most infamous ugly man—the Earl of Giles—the nation had been thrown into a frenzy.
Some clueless nobles were convinced she’d been blackmailed. But shockingly, the two were truly in love.
It’s a wonder that William didn’t resemble his mother at all and took entirely after his father.
“Sigh… Women’s affairs are too complicated. You boys stay grounded and don’t get dragged in. Next!”
Micloc urged Freddy to continue the letter. But no voice followed.
“What is it? What now?”
“Um…”
Freddy glanced at Ralph and fell silent.
