TLHZ 10

Chapter 10

‘Ugh… No matter how much of an assassin they were, is it really okay to think this way about the dead?’
For a brief moment, guilt flickered inside me. But soon, my thoughts changed.

‘The dead are the dead, and the living must live!’

Well—if zombies could be considered living, that is.

I knew it wasn’t something you should say to corpses, but letting those bodies rot underground felt like such a waste.
Freshly dead, their flesh still intact… To simply bury them in the earth? Would they still count as “fresh corpses” if I dug them up later? If it was within twenty-four hours, surely that would be fine?

No matter how I thought about it, you couldn’t find cleaner, more perfectly “bleached” corpses than those of assassins.

‘If my brothers absorb them, not even a trace of the bodies will remain. And since they were assassins, nobody will be looking for them anyway. Isn’t this a total win-win?’

It was an entirely reasonable thought. And what perfect timing, for such fine corpses to present themselves.

“Lady?”

“Ah, sorry. I just… felt a little dizzy.”

When I staggered, Berner quickly stepped forward to support me.

“I’ll take you inside. Please, this way…”

“Wait.”

Tristan’s voice stopped me just as I was about to step into the carriage.

“Do you feel it? The remnants of black magic.”

“……”

“It’s already been more than sixty seconds.”

“Your Highness, must you ask such things of someone who has just been frightened by the sight of corpses? Wouldn’t it be better to let her compose herself first…?”

Berner chided him, but Tristan’s gaze didn’t waver. His silent pressure demanded an answer.

‘Did he notice something?’

If he had really been curious, he could have asked me when we were alone together. For him to ask now, after seeing this scene, meant he must have suspected something and wanted me to confirm it.

‘Is he trying to determine if this was the work of a black magician… or the Holy See? What on earth did he see?’

Were those corpses black magicians? But I hadn’t sensed black magic from them.

‘Which is it? What made him so sure?’

My head spun. If I answered carelessly, he might begin to question the truth of my powers.

Keeping a frightened expression plastered on my face, I tilted my head slightly. My pale cheek was revealed, making me look even more fragile.

“I debated many times whether to say this. My answer… could change far too much.”

“……”

“But since Your Highness already suspects, I can’t hide it anymore. Yes, it’s true. In this forest…”

Shaa—
A cool breeze swept in from the depths of the trees.

“…I feel nothing.”

That was my answer.

Was it correct? If it wasn’t, I would need to find a way to smooth things over.

I glanced up at Tristan, who was still staring down at me. His face was as expressionless as ever, but I could tell the difference.

Since childhood, reading the slightest shifts in people’s expressions had been my specialty.

“…As I thought.”

It was the right answer.

Confirmation seemed to bring him a subtle sorrow.

“So this was all orchestrated by the Holy See. This accident scene itself was a trap to lure me in.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He immediately lifted one of the corpses at his feet. From the gash in its abdomen, innards spilled to the ground.

“There. On the back of its neck. The Holy Seal.”

“…The Holy Seal.”

“Yes. The most certain proof that he belonged to the Holy See. It’s a brand burned into God’s servants.”

Despite discovering the culprit behind this mess, Tristan looked anything but pleased.

“Smart of them. The seal fades after death. By the time a coroner examined the body, it would look no different than a faint, meaningless stain.”

“So they erase the evidence, but leave the warning.”

It was practically a declaration of war. Tristan’s lips curved faintly, twisted with bitterness.

The Holy See was likely the only force capable of stirring such anger in him.

“There’s nothing left for us here. We’re leaving.”

Tristan climbed into the carriage without hesitation.

Before long, Berner returned. It was far too soon for him to have buried the bodies properly, so I asked cautiously:

“Um… the corpses?”

“I buried them for now. The clean-up squad will finish the work later. Please, get in.”

His voice was gentle. Clearly, situations like this weren’t rare—there were people dedicated to “corpse disposal.”

I wanted to ask what exactly “corpse disposal” entailed, but thought better of it. That would only raise suspicion.

So I kept my mouth shut, pretending to be nothing more than a shaken noble lady, unnerved by her first glimpse of death.

Yes… those corpses were best left alone. Being tied to the Crown Prince, touching them would bring nothing but trouble.

Tempting as they were, the risk wasn’t worth it.

Silence filled the carriage as we passed through the Lauden Mountains. But in my head, only one thought repeated over and over:

‘Then where on earth am I supposed to find corpses?’

“You just left them behind?”

Julia clicked her tongue regretfully. I shared the sentiment.

“No. It was better not to touch them. If we had, the Crown Prince might’ve caught on.”

“Exactly. Imagine—the clean-up team arrives and finds no corpses. How suspicious would that look?”

Edmond and Isaac weren’t wrong either.

“But still, what a waste!”

Julia grumbled, as if wishing we could go back and fetch them even now.

“Anyway, if we need corpses to strengthen us… do they really have to be human corpses?”

“If Isaac wants cat ears instead of human ones, then sure…”

“…Okay, fair point.”

He conceded quickly. Honestly, it didn’t sound so bad. Still, it was a shame.

“How many do we need?”

“I don’t know the exact number. But in our current state, the more, the better.”

“I see…”

Edmond rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then he spoke, bluntly:

“Prepare to go out.”

“…Huh?”

“Only Emily and I will go. Julia, Isaac—you two stay here.”

“What? Where are you suddenly going?”

Julia looked completely baffled. I was just as confused.

Edmond, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, answered calmly:

“To get corpses.”

Where there is light, there is always shadow.

The Velond Empire had enjoyed an unprecedented golden age of peace since the Holy War. Yet even underground, those who thrived in darkness prospered.

Bored nobles craved stimulation. And that desire provided perfect business for the underground merchants who were hungry for work.

Thus, Velond’s black market grew into the largest in the continent.

Its dirty money was so deeply entangled with noble factions that even the imperial family couldn’t root it out completely, only bide their time.

‘Or rather, they’ve just given up!’

Donald, a major player in the black market, chuckled as he swept piles of gold coins into his chest. He never told anyone, but his nightly indulgence was filling a bathtub with gold coins and sleeping in it.

Knock knock.

“Master, a guest has arrived.”

Donald jolted upright in surprise.

“What? I don’t recall any appointments today.”

“Yes, sir. That’s true, but… they came straight to the office without notice. What should we do?”

His mood plummeted. What sort of fools handled things this sloppily, treating the guild master’s dignity like this?

“What do you mean, what? You know I don’t spare even a minute for uninvited guests! Tell them to get lost!”

“Yes, sir, but… this isn’t just any guest—”

“Guest or not, this is my private time! Do you know how much a minute of my time is worth? No appointment, no entry! Now get out!”

He was about to fling the papers in his hand when—

Bang!

The door burst open. Two figures in plain but luxurious robes strode in.

“Is this how you treat your guests here?”

The refined voice froze Donald’s tongue. He had been about to scream for them to leave, but the words caught in his throat.

In an instant, his merchant’s eye sized them up. The robes were unadorned but of high quality. The glimpse of shoes—clearly custom work for nobles. The hands of the one behind—smooth, without calluses.

‘Nobles!’

He immediately pasted on a fawning smile and rubbed his hands together.

“Oh dear~. Had I known such distinguished guests were coming, I would have greeted you myself. Haha… what brings you to such a humble place?”

One of the men pulled out a small nameplate from his robes.

“You recognize this, don’t you?”

“…That…!”

Donald’s eyes widened. How could he forget? His father had passed it down like a dying wish.

—If anyone comes bearing this nameplate… ask nothing, and grant them whatever they wish…

It had been ten years since his father’s death, and only now had the nameplate resurfaced.

“…Everyone, leave us.”

“What? But Master, it’s too dangerous—”

“Silence! If I say leave, you leave! And not a word of this conversation is to be overheard. Understood?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

The man muttered curses on his way out, but shut the door.

Donald, regaining composure, gestured them to the sofa and poured tea himself.

“So the promise wasn’t forgotten, I see.”

“…This is my first time seeing it with my own eyes,” Donald admitted, voice trembling as he stroked the nameplate.

“I heard as a child that this guild was founded after meeting a great benefactor.”

“My ancestor’s help was great indeed.”

Edmond, the robed noble, plucked the nameplate from Donald’s hand.

His grandfather had been blessed by the gods with an uncanny gift for trade. Every venture he touched flourished, until the imperial family itself restricted noble entry into commerce.

Even before that, the Walker dukedom had never been poor. But thanks to his grandfather, their fortune tripled in a single generation.

“When the guild was established, he departed, leaving this behind.”

If that had been all, it might’ve remained a quaint tale. But merchant promises are never so light.

“Before leaving… he also took the guild’s double ledger.”

For one cannot move without leverage.

“There were records back then that would have been disastrous if revealed, in such turbulent times.”

That was why even the imperial family couldn’t touch this place recklessly. The black market laundered slush funds that became invaluable political capital.

Now there was only one heir to the throne, but in times of succession disputes, factions scrambled for underground funding.

“…Funds were funneled to the Dowager Empress, for instance.”

“What do you want?” Donald cut him off.

“Good. You understand quickly.”

Edmond toyed idly with the teacup, not even sipping before setting it down again. The gesture was insultingly dismissive, and Donald flushed red.

Still, he thought to himself: How great could the request really be? Perhaps some dirt on the imperial family, or real estate secrets worth money. Painful, but if it protects the guild’s secrets…

But the words that reached his ears shattered every expectation.

“I need corpses.”