Chapter 297.1: Cactus (3)
… In the middle of the desert, I studied Delic’s map, comparing the coordinates we’d marked to the destination. It seemed we had arrived—though it wasn’t the destination I had imagined.
“This appears to be the place,” I said to the individual beside me.
“This place?” replied the individual.
Sophien had been following me from close behind, almost as if watching from a distance, and she glanced around with composed grace even though there wasn’t much to see, only a single wooden cabin standing alone in the vast sand of the desert that looked suspicious at first glance as if it were built to be a trap.
“It is a cabin,” Sophien continued, her eyes narrowing.
The knights at Sophien’s side stood stiff as boards, clearly on edge as they watched her every move, careful not to step out of line.
“Who supplied this information?” Sophien added, her tone edged with anger.
“I did, Your Majesty,” I replied.
Sophien’s lips parted as if to speak of something, but she fell silent because by now I had grown too used to feeding her lies.
Grit—
“I am well aware that you have received the report,” Sophien replied, gritting her teeth.
“Yes, Your Majesty, but I was the one who deemed it a reliable source.”
Sophien remained silent.
“A supervisor carries responsibility precisely because of their position, and it is not the place of a subordinate to be held accountable in the same measure,” I continued.
My words brought a sudden tension to the air as Sophien shot me a glare, her eyes burning with irritation, while the knights nearby looked as if they’d just heard something that stirred their hearts.
“Moreover, who can say what lies hidden within?”
“Then begone, all of you,” Sophien replied, her mana flaring as she pushed the knights back. “Only I and Deculein shall proceed inside.”
“Y-Your Majesty—”
Delic, clearly panicking, moved to stop Sophien before she could go any further.
“As Your Majesty commands,” I replied, and opened the cabin door.
The cabin’s plain interior smelled strongly of wood, and Sophien wore a look that said she had absolutely no idea what was going on.
“Do proceed, Your Majesty,” I added, gesturing within.
“… Professor, we have just experienced an unexpected sudden attack by an assassin! It is unclear what may lie within—”
Delic panicked on his own, even calling me by my old title.
“Enough,” Sophien interrupted, pushing Delic aside and stepping directly into the cabin. “Enter.”
Sophien stepped into the cabin and then turned back at the threshold to speak, her words hanging in the air as she reached out her gloved hand to me.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied as I took Sophien’s hand without hesitation and followed her into the cabin.
Thud—!
The moment I stepped into the cabin, the door shut behind me—and everything went dark.
“There is no cause for concern,” I replied.
“I am well aware,” Sophien said. “Is this the passphrase to enter the passage?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
When I looked into the darkness with Sharp Eyesight, a magic circle began to take shape within it.
“Here is the passage,” I continued.
I had an immediate Comprehension of the magic circle and realized that if I dismantled and analyzed the spell guarding the passage to the underground, I could uncover the correct passphrase.
“And the passphrase is?” Sophien asked.
“… Night of the Desert, Your Majesty.”
Whooooosh—!
At that moment, the cabin dropped beneath us—no warning, no sound—falling straight down into the depths of the underground.
***
Boom—!
The moment they arrived underground, Sophien opened her eyes again while still inside the cabin, but the world outside had changed—the noise, the scenery, even the voices carrying in were no longer speaking the language of the Empire but that of the tribe.
“… It seems the information was correct, then?” Sophien said, turning to Deculein as she cleared her throat.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please, do step outside,” Deculein replied, opening the cabin door.
Then a bustling underground village opened up before them, and for a place underground, the foot traffic was overwhelming as shops, schools, and numerous other buildings filled the space, clearly a hidden refuge where desert tribes lived beyond the Empire’s reach, so much so that even Sophien couldn’t tell where the homes ended and the shops began.
“… You are here.”
At that moment, a voice called out as someone wrapped in a turban approached, and Sophien and Deculein both turned toward her.
“I am Idnik, Your Majesty.”
Idnik was born in the desert and raised alongside Rohakan—a child of the sands.
Sophien furrowed her brow.
“The information wasn’t leaked, but you requested us instead?” Deculein inquired.
“That is correct. We requested a conversation, though we did not anticipate Her Majesty’s presence,” Idnik replied, gesturing toward the cabin. “Let us, then, conduct our discussion within it.”
Sophien began to gather her mana, and the air around her grew tense with unmistakable hostility.
“… I ask you to hold back, Your Majesty,” Deculein said, gripping her wrist.
“What did you just say?”
“Your Majesty, we lack a casus belli for this conflict. It is currently impossible to ascertain if they are Scarletborn. Moreover, our chances of victory are slight.”
“Your words are just, Professor. Certainly, our chances of victory are slight as well. This is specifically why we must address our mutual enemy,” Idnik said, nodding.
“The Demon of the Desert?” Deculein inquired, responding to Idnik’s mention of a mutual enemy.
“That is correct,” Idnik replied, her eyes flickering toward Sophien. “Your Majesty, have you perchance heard of the legend of the Demon of the Desert?”
Sophien said nothing, and her expression made it clear—she didn’t even want to trade words with Idnik.
“Anyhow, there is a demon, Your Majesty. It was sealed long ago, however, recent military activity in the desert has caused its seal to weaken. The ancient remains used in that binding rest within this sanctuary,” Idnik said, stepping into the cabin. “Please come in, Your Majesty, a commotion is likely to arise outside.”
Deculein and Sophien followed after Idnik a few moments later, and while Sophien glanced around the cabin as if studying the interior, almost by instinct she took the seat nearest the table, carrying the presence of an Empress who refused to stand if a seat was offered, wherever it might appear.
“Deculein,” Sophien called, her crimson pupils narrowing like those of a hawk.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Why have you come here?”
Deculein lowered himself into the chair opposite Sophien and didn’t speak, just meeting her eyes in silence.
“I am well aware that you would not undertake this expedition without just cause.”
Sophien had spoken the truth because Deculein had trusted a map that was barely more than ink on paper without review, scouting, or even a second look.
“… Deculein, it was clear to you then that this was the Desert’s call.”
Deculein looked at Sophien in silence as if weighing something unspoken.
Tick, tock— Tick, tock—
Somewhere in the silence, the ticking of a clock reached them as the cabin’s planks moaned in the hush and sand slipped down from the ceiling like dust shaken loose.
“… Should that be the case,” Sophien added, her face hardening, her jaw tightening, and her body trembling. “Have you defied my command and colluded with the enemy? How far do you intend to disappoint me?”
Sophien’s voice was flat and dry, her words slicing into Deculein like the bite of a blade pressed to skin.
“It was for Your Majesty’s sake,” Deculein replied.
“For my sake?”
Tap.
“Might Your Majesty grant me an audience?” Idnik asked, setting down her teacup and dropping to one knee.
However, Sophien didn’t so much as glance at Idnik, as if she weren’t even worth acknowledging.
“I am Idnik, protégé of Demakan and representative of the desert, Your Majesty.”
For all her silence, Sophien kept her eyes on Deculein.
“This is a request for surrender, signed by the desert’s minority tribes, Your Majesty. The desert will not bring any harm to the Empire. We swear this through blood,” Idnik added, maintaining her composure as she placed a document on the table.
The silence stretched as Sophien said nothing.With resolute certainty, Idnik continued, “The desert holds no link to the Land of Destruction, Your Majesty. It is through the machinations of the Altar of Destruction that we have been misled. Therefore—”
“This is the land of Rohakan, the murderer of my mother,” Sophien stated to Deculein.
Idnik clicked her tongue in silence.
“Deculein, you are now urging me to negotiate with such a man. Is this what you deem loyalty?”
Sophien had eyes only for Deculein, her fury crackling in the air—it was visible even through Sharp Eyesight.
“Your Majesty, upon this desert is inscribed the spell of self-destruction,” Idnik said.
This time, Sophien reacted just barely as her brow furrowed in a subtle movement that gave her away.
“Should that spell be activated, the entire desert will be destroyed, Your Majesty. All who stand upon its sands will face death.”
The self-destruction spell had been woven into the spellwork Deculein had slipped to Idnik on a piece of magic paper, and she had completed installing a large-scale magic circle.
“The desert has staked its very existence, Your Majesty, supreme sovereign of the Empire, the most venerable. We implore you not to detonate a landmine merely to crush a single worm.”
Sophien remained silent.
“Allow us to remain but a worm, Your Majesty,” Idnik included.
Only then did Sophien turn to face Idnik—and in response, Idnik lowered her head in a controlled bow.
“No,” Sophien said.
Sophien’s refusal was simple—but within that simplicity, it held the weight of absolute disgust.
“Then, Your Majesty, I will send an envoy once more at a future time,” Idnik said, rising with the air of one who had anticipated the Empress’s refusal.
Sophien didn’t spare another glance at Idnik as she walked away, her attention remaining locked on Deculein with eyes seething with fury while waiting for him to speak.
“Your Majesty, it is my fervent hope that you do not stake yourself upon the desert. This is my loyalty,” Deculein said.
“Loyalty? Your loyalty is—”
“Your Majesty, you are now straying from the path,” Deculein interrupted.
Sophien’s expression hardened like stone.
“Your Majesty, the desert tribes are being slaughtered without cause. However, they are not Scarletborn. Therefore, this massacre lacks both justification and principle. A war without just cause will only imperil Your Majesty.”
Sophien closed her eyes for a moment, gathering something silent within.
“My loyalty, Your Majesty, lies in protecting you. This is the path to your preservation and I cannot watch you squander your essence in the desert,” Deculein concluded.
“Deculein,” Sophien said with a scoff, a sneer escaping her lips. “I shall have you imprisoned.”
***
Meanwhile, not far from the desert, was the Sanctuary of the Ages.
“It wooorked—!”
A mighty shout from Epherene, loud enough to startle Yulie from her sleep, echoed through the air as she finally completed the cylinder.
“… Miss Epherene,” Yulie muttered.
“Knight Yulie! Come see this!” Epherene said, taking Yulie by the arm and leading her over.
Around the long cylinder, capable of accommodating three or four people for a week or two of rest, lay spread theory documents and science books.
“Do you see this line connected to the cylinder?” Epherene continued excitedly as she explained the cylinder. “I’m going to pour time energy into it. We’ll store all of your mana, Knight Yulie, right here too.”
The immense mana stone, weighing nearly five hundred pounds, required that all of Yulie’s mana be contained within the cylinder first to prevent an immune response before the time rewind.
“And this is a solution of concentrated lantern flower.”
The solution, connected to a syringe, would be continuously injected into Yulie’s body by Epherene as the time rewind progressed.
“And most importantly,” Epherene continued, her face serious as she pulled out a diary, “this is the diary Knight Yulie must remember.”
“Yes,” Yulie replied, nodding as she looked at it.
“Okay. We’re about to begin, so…”
Thud—
At that moment, Allen appeared with Idnik, who strode in and took a seat.
“Mage Idnik, how did the conversation go?” Yulie asked.
“It didn’t go well,” Idnik replied. “However, I anticipated as much. I knew the first negotiation would inevitably fail.”
Peace negotiations through mutually assured destruction.
“What about the Professor?” Epherene asked.
Yulie’s ears perked.
“Deculein seems hesitant to kill anyone other than Scarletborn,” Idnik replied, shrugging. “The desert, after all, is home to many innocent tribes, and such conflict would greatly deplete the national strength.”
“… Really?”
“That’s right, he expressed his opinion to the Empress.”
Epherene’s eyes widened.
The Professor, as a purist and fundamentalist, must be more fair and impartial than anyone when it comes to indiscriminate tribal extermination, Epherene thought.
“Then, what is the Professor doing now?” Epherene asked.
“Deculein has been imprisoned,” Idnik replied.
“… Sorry?”
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