Chapter 49

“Did the drink not suit your taste?”

Marquis Yuris asked in return, sipping from the glass filled with blood.

“M-My Lord Yuris? What on earth is this…”

“What is it that frightens you so?”

Elizabeth’s face turned pale as death.

“Are you afraid of death?”

“P-please…!”

“Ah, please do not be too afraid.”

The blood-red orb pressed its lips against her. Toward Elizabeth’s struggling neck.

Crunch!

The sharp fangs of the blood-red orb, now pointed and protruding, were feasting on Elizabeth’s neck.

“Death is a blessing.”

After the kiss, the Marquis of Yuri pulled away.

“Like a flower petal that blooms splendidly and fades beautifully.”

Before the Crimson Prince now lay not the beautiful noble maiden. A corpse, shriveled and twisted like a mummy, was there instead.

“Compared to that, an immortal life without death…”

Leaving Elizabeth’s body behind, the Crimson Ball continued.

“Truly fleeting and hollow, filled with nothing but meaninglessness.”

In indescribable emptiness and twisted pleasure.

“Like weeds that will never bloom in a lifetime.”

He murmured alone. His voice was exceedingly fleeting.

A short while later, in the Saxon Duke’s office.

“Send me to the imperial capital.”

“It’s far too dangerous.”

At Dale’s utterly audacious request, the Black Count shook his head silently.

A message from the Imperial Court commending the achievements of the Duke of Saxony and the ‘Black Prince’ who fought against the Great Demon Migration, and inviting Dale to the Red Demon Tower Academy to foster exchange between the two Demon Towers.

Needless to say, the influence of the Red Demon Tower’s master, Marquis Yuris, must have been at play.

“Are you saying you’ll walk into certain death on your own two feet?”

“Marquis Yuris’ son also stated he would stay at the Black Demon Tower for the sake of exchange, did he not?”

After all, the Red Tower’s proposal was fundamentally a form of mutual exchange.

“Given that we, too, are holding the heir to the Red Magic Tower as a hostage…”

That’s why Dale continued.

“The enemy won’t be able to move rashly either.”

“Have you already forgotten the Purifiers’ assault?”

“If they attempt to lay a hand on the heir to the Black Duke within the Imperial Capital, and specifically at the ‘Academy of the Crimson Magic Tower’… even the Blood Duke must understand the repercussions such an act would bring.”

It would turn the entire Tower of Contemplation into an enemy and become the spark that ignites a war engulfing the entire empire.

It wouldn’t end with just one heir of the Black Magic Tower dying; it would mean the remaining towers could not escape the Red Magic Tower’s threat either.

Moreover, what the empire fears most is not me, but my father.

At least for now, that is how it must be.

“…….”

Dale’s words weren’t without merit. In fact, they were the unassailable truth.

Even the Empire didn’t have the resources left to immediately eliminate Dale and wage total war against the House of Saxony. Moreover, if such a situation unfolded, the vassals turning their backs on the Empire would certainly not be limited to just the House of Saxony.

“Then how do you explain the Purifiers’ attack?”

“Perhaps…”

Dale opened his mouth.

“If they truly intended to eliminate me, it wouldn’t have ended with just the ‘Twelve Purifiers.’”

“Hmm.”

“The Crimson Magic Tower is merely testing me and my father.”

“A test, huh.”

Black Orb burst out laughing as if utterly incredulous.

He was absolutely right. It was Dale who had maintained a cold, clear grasp of the situation throughout. After all, as a father worried about his child, maintaining that coldness was a separate matter entirely.

“Then is there some other purpose you seek in the Imperial Capital?”

“I wish to see the empire with my own eyes.”

Not some northern fiefdom or papal state.

“And since the Crimson Magic Tower has issued a provocation, it only stands to reason we should offer a fitting response.”

In the imperial capital, the heart of the empire. Against the Crimson Magic Tower, hailed as the empire’s ‘Enforcer of the Zeitgeist’.

“…Truly, I both understand and fail to grasp your thoughts.”

At Dale’s words, the Duke of Saxony gave a low, bitter smile.

“I am merely thinking for my father, myself, and the House of Saxony.”

Facing that bitter smile, Dale spoke.

It was a conversation between father and son, just like any other.

The Imperial Capital, and the Crimson Magic Tower.

The Imperial Academy attached to the Crimson Magic Tower held significance far beyond that of a mere academy within a magic tower.

Its sheer scale and curriculum alone were incomparable to those of other towers. It cultivated the empire’s foremost elites and served as a venue for socializing among noble offspring and fierce, underhanded rivalries.

Graduating from the Imperial Academy and becoming a mage of the Crimson Magic Tower was, for the empire’s nobility, a guarantee of success itself.

The empire’s elite, the envy of all.

Thus, the most talented noble offspring from across the empire gather at the Imperial Academy, and the intensity of the competition there is beyond compare. The very process of graduating from the Academy itself is incomparable to that of other magic towers. Even if one reaches the 3rd Circle realm, they cannot graduate from the Academy unless they pass the Red Magic Tower’s ‘Graduation Exam’.

And it was precisely at this time, with the graduation exam just weeks away.

It was around this time that the young eldest son of the Saxon family, the empire’s foremost genius, arrived.

At the very moment when the fiercest competition within the Academy is unfolding.

Several years had already passed since the Emperor had secluded himself, never appearing in public.

Thus, when the young eldest son of House Saxon arrived at the imperial capital, his procession—led by the Saxon House’s Night Raven horsemen—traversed the capital’s streets, and it was the Emperor’s representatives who ultimately received Dale.

“Ah, welcome. We’ve been waiting for you.”

The imperial faction nobles, led by Marquis Yuris. Every one of them looked hideous, as if they reeked of lard.

“The Prince of Saxony has truly taken a difficult step!”

A sickeningly sweet smile and flattery.

Between the serpent’s forked tongue, the handsome man with the scarred face gazed at me. How could I ever forget that look?

“……Viscount Yuris.”

“I have been waiting, Prince of the Saxon House.”

The man who reigned supreme at the pinnacle of the Crimson Mage Tower, earning the nickname the Blood-Red Prince.

Dale’s father, the continent’s foremost dark mage, whose prowess rivals that of the Black Duke.

“It is an honor to meet you.”

“Honored? I should be thanking you for agreeing to my unreasonable request.”

“I, for one, am deeply grateful for the Red Mage Tower Lord’s invitation.”

“I have heard much about the noble deeds you displayed in confronting the great migration of the demon race.”

Dale bowed his head stoically in respect, and Marquis Yuris smiled once more.

“That courage—to not merely pursue scholarly inquiry, but to volunteer as a warrior on the battlefield! Truly, it is an unceasingly glorious tale of valor that resounds throughout the entire empire.”

“……”

But Dale did not respond immediately, maintaining only silence. Recalling that day, when twelve Purifiers had ambushed his cavalry regiment on the upper reaches of the Saxon River.

This is the man.

This man, joining hands with the demon race, infiltrated the Purifiers of the Crimson Demon Tower… and led the Knights of the Night Raven of the House of Saxon and Dale straight into that very flame.

That day, he recalled his knights, reduced to ashes in the flames.

Gritting his teeth lightly, Dale forced himself to maintain his composure. He concealed the hatred burning within his chest beneath a cold, icy veneer.

“Whenever tales of the ‘Black Prince’s’ exploits reach us on the winds of gossip, I truly cannot help but be astonished.”

“People’s tales are always exaggerated, you know.”

“Ah, surely not.”

Viscount Yuris laughed as if it were utterly ridiculous, briefly revealing his white, slender teeth.

“That talent, hailed as the empire’s foremost genius…! I already look forward to witnessing the talents His Highness will display at the academy.”

“Dale of Saxony, I humbly greet the members of the Imperial family.”

Leaving Sir Veil and the elf mage Sepia, who stood guard as usual, behind, Dale bowed his head respectfully.

Hiding beneath the guise of an innocent 11-year-old child, lurking at the bottom of a malice that seemed ready to devour Dale at any moment.

The young eldest son of the House of Saxony was invited to the Imperial Academy of the Red Tower for the ‘Exchange of Red and Black.’

The shock among the noble offspring at the Imperial Academy was beyond words, especially considering he would be attending classes in the ‘Third Circle’s Highest Faculty’ with only a few weeks left before his graduation exams.

Dale, the young eldest son of the Saxon ducal house.

At the tender age of 11, he reached the realm of the Third Circle and broke through the 20th tier in the Tower’s trials. Moreover, the ‘Black Prince’s’ talent was not confined to magic alone. He possessed both the strategic acumen and military might to lead the Black-White War to victory, halt the Great Demon Migration, and even defeat the Orc Warboss—the empire’s foremost genius.

They were well aware of the Black Prince’s fame, which the nobles endlessly boasted about to the point of tedium.

No, precisely because of that, they found it unbearable.

The Imperial Academy’s highest faculty. A gathering place for the nobility’s most talented offspring, and the starting point on the path to success they would walk as elite mages.

For this reason, the pride held by the students of the Imperial Academy was beyond description.

And from their perspective, Dale’s reputation was nothing but a hollow illusion, inflated to the point of absurdity.

Even if he is the successor to the Black Magic Tower, he’s still just an 11-year-old brat. And one from the remote northern Black Magic Tower at that—did he truly achieve the Third Circle realm in the first place? Even if he were a third-circle practitioner, was it a ‘circle diligently built through cultivation’? How many revolutions per minute could his circle manage? Probably not even 100 rpm.

The tower’s trial was likely the same. Merely because he was the son of the Black Magic Tower, he undoubtedly received preferential treatment without even being tested. Furthermore, the victory in the Black-White Rotation and the halting of the demonic migration—those feats were likely victories actually won by the Saxon family’s knights.

It was undoubtedly a false reputation, artificially inflated solely to boast and flaunt the ‘prestige of the House of Saxony’.

That was the prevailing view among most undergraduate students at the academy. Or rather, they couldn’t help but think that way.

To their haughty eyes, Dale’s talent was like an uncomfortable truth they couldn’t bear to accept.

Conversely, if the talent of the ‘Black Prince’ touted by the gossipmongers were true… Faced with the talent of a mere 11-year-old child, their entire lives would be utterly negated.

The pride they held as the empire’s foremost elite.

Therefore, acknowledging the talents of the ‘Black Prince’ was tantamount to denying their very worth, and it didn’t take long for their pride to shatter.