Chapter 117

To the Papal State

The First Prince tried to win Isaac over in various ways.
He had an exact grasp of Goethe’s situation—
its worsening finances, the deteriorating relationship with its vassals, and even how Botmer was exploiting the gap to ignite a war and escalate it into a civil conflict.

However, when it came to Isaac himself, he failed to see through him.
That was why the prince’s offers remained superficial—
granting a royal position, arranging a marriage with a woman of the royal family, awarding additional land, elevating his title, and so on.

“You rejected all of that?”

Carlson asked.

“They were tempting offers, sure—but none of them really appealed to me. Those things were secondary from the start.”

Isaac replied, taking a drink of ale.

At the core of the First Prince’s attempt to persuade Isaac was protection.

The artificial ring, the five stages of magical development—
both overturned the existing perception of magic and threatened to dismantle the privileges of magical families.
In particular, the ancient language had long been monopolized as a tool to enforce class divisions.

And yet Isaac claimed that an era would come where magic could be used without it.
If tied to religion, such a claim would have branded him a heretic without question.
To the magical families, it implied the collapse of their vested power.

There was no way they would leave Isaac alone.

“I don’t understand. Even the royal family uses magic—they’d oppose you too. So why would His Highness protect you? Is he that devoted to magic?”

Carlson frowned.

He was more informed about the kingdom’s affairs than Besimer, but he wasn’t particularly interested in noble politics.
He only tried to understand what he absolutely had to.

“Devoted to magic? That would’ve been amusing—but no.”

“Then why?”

“Curious?”

“…I am.”

At Isaac’s teasing tone, Carlson narrowed his eyes—a clear warning not to joke around.

“The prince thinks I’m a genius.”

Carlson glared at him.
Isaac smirked.

“A genius is a double-edged sword in politics. If a genius resists authority, chaos follows. But if a genius serves authority, there’s no better tool.”

“I’m not skilled at untangling twisted explanations.”

“The prince believes my theories will bring about major change. In that change, he intends to push aside the pro-imperial faction and imperial-born mages, and establish a new order in the kingdom’s magical world.”

“And keep you—the center of that change—under his control.”

“Exactly. It’s just an extension of political maneuvering. If I were to join hands with the council faction, things would become far more troublesome for him.”

***

In a corner of the inn’s first floor, Isaac answered Carlson’s questions—
most of them about the kingdom’s political situation.

Carlson was a model student.
Had he become a mage, he would have been a capable one.
He had sharp curiosity and strong comprehension.

Of course, that curiosity ultimately traced back to Botmer.

“Then why didn’t you join forces with the prince? You don’t have many options right now. The Second Prince is insane.”

Carlson lowered his voice further.
By evening, the inn had filled with people gathering for dinner.

“It’s not time to put my neck in the noose yet.”

Isaac swirled his ale.
The remaining liquid sloshed at the bottom.

The First Prince was known to be cold and calculating.
The recent assassination attempt against him by poisoning was later suspected to have been staged by the prince himself.

As a result, the Second Prince was labeled not only mad but also a ruthless man willing to kill his own kin.
Even within the council faction and pro-imperial circles, unrest spread.

In contrast, the First Prince was praised for maintaining composure and fairness despite the attempt on his life.

Yet—
he was not ruthless enough to kill his own brother when necessary.

He had multiple chances to eliminate the Second Prince, but each time he let them slip.

That led to the Bloody Succession Ceremony—
an event where, during the First Prince’s coronation, the Second Prince’s faction purged the king, the First Prince, and the royalists in one blow.

***

“You don’t like this, you don’t like that—then what would it take for you to swear loyalty?”

The First Prince had tried both threats and persuasion on Isaac.
But Isaac refused every time.

Finally, frustrated, the prince asked.

And Isaac answered:

— If you kill the Second Prince.

That ended the conversation.

The First Prince gave no reply.
He merely handed Isaac a ring engraved with a laurel crown and deferred the matter to the future.

***

“My head hurts.

“I’m the one thinking—why does your head hurt?”

“I suppose I’m not a genius like someone. We leave for Vinfelt tomorrow, so I’ll turn in early.”

Shaking his head, Carlson stood up.

***

Even after Carlson left, Isaac continued drinking.

Enette, exhausted after returning from the Academy, had collapsed from fatigue.
Raphael had gone to the cathedral and had yet to return.

***

“One raises a blade in the shadows, another paves a road with blood—
golden crown, crimson crown, rusted crown—
who will drink tomorrow’s poisoned cup?”

The inn remained lively.

As dinner ended, drinking began, and bards took turns singing.
Most songs were allegories of events within the royal family; some were about lovers.

“Across the river, I hear the drums…
We gaze upon the same sky, yet chase different stars…
If I cross the river, will I find you?
If the flames die down, will I see you?
Our eternal vow trembles in a storm of blood,
and we point our blades at each other…”

The sorrowful melody continued,
and even the rowdy crowd fell silent while listening.

‘A song set against a republican revolution… they must have been on opposing sides.’

Some listeners even shed tears—
but Isaac felt no such emotion.

Isaac’s thoughts were occupied solely with Goethe.
If he were to protect the kingdom, it would only be because the kingdom’s survival benefited Goethe.
And the opposite was equally true.

That made it difficult for him to decide how to deal with the cardinal he would soon meet—
how far he should assist him,
and what effect the cardinal’s actions would have on Goethe.

***

“When I hear songs of worldly love, I strangely find myself thinking of the one I serve.”

“You’re here.”

Lost in thought, Isaac noticed Raphael sitting beside him.
The chair creaked under the weight of his fully armed figure beneath his ever-present black coat.
It even seemed to sink slightly.

“When you say ‘the one you serve,’ do you mean God?”
“Yes. My one and only Lord. Just as trials strengthen the love of lovers, the trials He gives temper my faith like steel. Innkeeper!”

Raphael drained the ale the innkeeper brought him.
After finishing the glass in one go, he stared blankly for a moment, looking exhausted.

“Bishop Alquin has regained consciousness. If we push ourselves, we could depart for the Papal State as early as tomorrow.”
“That’s good news.”

“And Secretary Gaspard has taken his own life.”
“…That’s unfortunate.”
“His faith only went that far. Innkeeper!”

Raphael emptied three more mugs of ale in quick succession.

“The Church refused Gaspard’s funeral. Even the faithful abandoned him—and rightly so. He was swayed by Botmer’s will, betrayed the Holy See, and ended his own life, defying even the will of the Lord.”

“What happened to the body?”
“I asked the gravedigger to handle it as an unclaimed corpse. Innkeeper!”

Raphael’s voice was strained.
He had already downed seven drinks, his face flushed red.

“A foolish and weak man… May God have taken his soul. Though I cannot say whether He will forgive him.”

Isaac didn’t ask anything further and simply let Raphael be.

***

After a long while, when the night had deepened, Raphael finally spoke about the results of the interrogation.

“You were right, Baron. The attackers were a mercenary group called Achanlaufer, along with Baron Büchtner’s faction. They were acting under Botmer’s orders.”

“Baron Büchtner?”
“It seems there was a rebellion within the family. The second son has taken control.”

“Then Beltran is now the head?”
“Yes. It seems he was threatened by Botmer. Most of Goethe’s vassals have already sided with Botmer, and the key figures within Büchtner were all his people as well.”

Raphael nodded, his head swaying from the alcohol.

“We recovered the bodies of the attackers and confirmed their identities—it was true. From the steward to the closest knights, all were Büchtner’s men. The mages were from Achanlaufer.”

He explained the interrogation and investigation step by step.
Aside from Beltran becoming the head of the house, nothing deviated from Isaac’s expectations.

“With testimony from myself, Beltran, and Bishop Alquin, it will be enough to prove Botmer’s crimes.”
“As long as we aren’t attacked again on the way to the Papal State.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve requested additional escort from the Holy Knights.”
“That’s reassuring.”

Isaac nodded.

Because of the Wolf King’s legacy, he felt no intoxication at all.
He had already had four mugs, yet the ale now tasted only bitter.

The inn had gradually emptied, leaving only two occupied tables on the first floor.

***

“I should head up now.”

As Isaac tried to stand, Raphael’s thick hand pressed down on his shoulder.

“Baron… is there truly no way you can explain it?”
“Explain what?”
“I questioned your mage, but she refused to answer anything.”

“Enette?”
“Yes. That girl. That ‘light magic’ you spoke of—she insisted she knew nothing. Even while trembling in fear.”

“And what do you intend to do with that knowledge?”
“It is important. What you called light magic… it closely resembled divine power. When you cast it, you held the mage’s wrist. Are either of you baptized? Or perhaps bound by a sacred covenant?”

“Divine power isn’t used often. It’s typically used when the Church orders subjugation of magical beasts. The divine power of high-ranking clergy strips them of their evil strength.”

“…I see.”

Isaac scratched his head.

Unfortunately, what Raphael called divine power was nothing more than light magic.
Magical beasts possessed senses dozens—sometimes hundreds—of times sharper than humans.
Against such creatures, intense light and noise were devastatingly effective.

In other words, “divine power” was simply a form of light magic—
a secret magical tradition preserved by the Papal State under religious guise.

Isaac was reminded once again of how different the future he knew was from the present.
In the future, what was called divine power would be reduced to nothing more than a practical magical tool used on battlefields.

He had no confidence in explaining that to Raphael.
If misunderstanding was inevitable, better to keep it minimal.

“…I’ve heard Enette is quite devout, though she doesn’t show it. Watching her has given me much to reflect on. Anyway.”

Isaac made the sign of the cross and quickly left.

***

The next day.

Five carriages wrapped in white cloth arrived at the inn.
Fifteen holy knights in silver armor lined up in front.

They were the escort assigned to guide Isaac’s group safely to the Papal State.