“I didn’t twist it, so if you receive treatment in time, you’ll recover.”

“Th… That’s… should I say thank you?”

Even as he vividly felt the eerie sensation of the sword embedded in his side, Roir sneered.

It was because he realized that he was the one who should have bled today. 

‘So this is why I didn’t want to come, even after being invited.’

Roir’s mind spun as he stared down at the tip of the dagger’s handle. Had there been a dispute between Piastre and Greuga? No. Was there an old grudge between the two families? No. Had there been any recent incidents that could have sparked conflict? No.

The viscount’s claim that he was responsible for his son’s death was merely an excuse to stab him. If the viscount had neither reason nor gain in harming him, then only one possibility remained. Someone had ordered this. Or commanded it.

In the blink of an eye, Roir grasped the situation he was in with sharp precision. Then why go through the trouble of calling him here just to stab him?

The trade ship.

There was no need for lengthy, complicated reasoning. Aside from that, there was no other matter significant enough to justify such an open attack on Greuga’s heir. His deduction wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.

The emperor, resentful of the progressing relationship between Aiger and Raylin, had likely given the order out of spite. However, the fact that he had failed to secure a stake in Greuga’s massive trade ship business also played a major role in his decision.

It was absurd, but he had walked into an incredibly sloppy trap. What, this is the third time now?

The viscount of Piastre and whoever was behind him weren’t the only ones who had tried to seize control over him using Raylin as bait. It was also no secret that if it involved her, he would inevitably act.

So, in the end, the “medicine” mentioned in the letter doesn’t exist?

More than his own perilous situation, Roir felt a deeper regret at the realization that the medicine that could help Raylin didn’t exist at all.

Avoiding the sight of the dagger handle lodged in his side, which he knew would only make the pain worse, he scoffed.

“Well, whatever. The viscount lost his son, so a little hole in my stomach is no big de— Agh!”

Before he could finish speaking, the viscount grabbed the dagger’s handle again and twisted it.

“Don’t kill him. He must not die. You and I both don’t want this to become a bigger issue, do we?”

The voice of the Marquis of Sillion echoed in his ears. The viscount, barely restraining himself from punishing the man who dared to bring up his son, shook off his blood-drenched hand and gave the order.

“Just make sure he doesn’t die.”

Without sparing a glance at Roir, who was slowly collapsing, the Viscount of Piastre held his son’s corpse in his arms and called his name, waiting for an answer that would never come.

Roir returned to the Greuga estate a day later.

***

“Did we lose him?”

“He should be nearby.”

“Spread out. No, we’ll go together. If only two or three of us go, we’ll just end up dead for nothing.”

A group clad in tight-fitting black covert clothing and masks sprinted through the night in pursuit of someone. And the person they desperately sought, eyes red with fervor, was gasping for breath in a secluded section of the abandoned palace on the outskirts of the imperial palace—an area no one frequented.

“Hah, haah… Ugh…”

Even after taking a long moment to catch his breath, his breathing refused to steady.

Aiger wiped the cold sweat beading on his forehead with a rough swipe, his expression contorting as he muttered,

“Just my luck.”

He had no reason to encounter the emperor’s knights, yet for some reason, his sense of direction had momentarily failed him, leading him straight into them.

He didn’t know their exact orders, but based on his previous encounters with them, it was likely something like, “If you get the chance to kill the crown prince without a trace, do it.”

His vision wavered slightly, and Aiger shook his head before rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Did I inhaled a little too much?”

A few hours earlier.

There were several laboratories working on the elixir of immortality, but he had finally managed to pinpoint one that was quite large and well-stocked with research materials.

“The lab was completely abandoned?”

“Yes. They suddenly rushed to the imperial palace in droves. Our guess is that since the person in charge died, they’re now trying to establish a new leader among them.”

“A perfect opportunity.”

“Yes, but… Wait, you’re not thinking of going there yourself, are you? That’s too dangerous. We should send someone else.”

His aide crossed his arms in an X-shape across his chest, signaling firm opposition.

“It’s dangerous. That’s exactly why I have to go. Is there anyone here stronger than me?”

However, Aiger fastened the robe tightly around himself without batting an eye.

“Your Highness, the leader must always be in the safest place. Regardless of whether Your Highness is strong or not, strategically—Your Highness!”

His aide blocked his way entirely, as if daring Aiger to step over him.

Of course, instead of crushing the man’s stomach, Aiger simply leapt over him.

“Enough. I’m going.”

“Your Highness! Your Highness, please! Aaaagh! If you’re just going to do whatever you want every time, why did you even bring me along?!”

His aide’s cries of frustration and concern echoed behind him, but Aiger moved swiftly, stepping lightly through the shadows.

He knew his aide was right.

A leader must survive so that the organization beneath him could continue. Until the very last moment—no, even at the very last moment—the head of a group must remain in the safest place.

Aiger smirked.

That was impossible.

Sitting safely in a secure location while sending his subordinates to their deaths was no different from throwing their lives away himself.

He had no desire to discard the men he had personally gathered.

“Your Highness, remember this. Underlings are expendable. Do not grow attached.”

Wasn’t that what his chamberlain had said before ultimately stabbing him in the back?

Aiger agreed with the sentiment, yet he never treated people that way.

Not out of any grand ideology or noble reasoning—he simply didn’t feel like it.

This time was no different.

If he, the one with the highest chance of survival, handled the matter himself, there was no need to push some lesser man into it and overcomplicate things.

If his aide or his men had heard this, they would have clutched their heads and collapsed, but Aiger remained confident.

Naturally, chaos erupted in his wake.

“Send men! Send every damn man we’ve got! You think it’s fine because it’s His Highness? You little sh*t! You think everything out of your mouth is a proper sentence? Get your as$ up and move!”

Spurred on by the shrill cries of the stick-thin aide, the men grabbed their weapons and took off in pursuit of Aiger.

Unaware of their turmoil, Aiger ran forward without hesitation. As he neared the location his aide had reported, he noticed the sharp, metallic scent of blood mingling with the cold night air.

The more he uncovered about the elixir of immortality, the deeper his contempt and disgust for the emperor grew.

Anyone could desire eternal life.

But turning human beings into literal raw materials to achieve it—carrying out such sickening acts without a second thought—was an entirely different matter.

“Who…?”

A man, possibly a servant, who had been sitting near what appeared to be the entrance of the laboratory, collapsed without even managing a scream.

Aiger moved through the eerily silent, empty hall of the mansion before heading underground, where he sensed human presence.

He encountered a few guards assigned to protect and monitor the facility but neutralized them with a few swift motions before descending further and further.

From the outside, the place seemed like nothing more than a run-down mansion. But its underground levels were so deep that only after a long descent did he finally reach a space that looked the part.

The air grew heavier with dampness, and the stench of blood became even more pungent.

A deep furrow appeared between Aiger’s brows.

There was something else mixed in with the scent of blood.

He had raided several of these laboratories before, but never one this large—never one where the experiments were still ongoing.

The mages, alchemists, and the imperial knights who guarded and supervised them were all absent, making this the perfect chance to secure evidence of these horrific experiments.

Following the stench of blood and something more, Aiger soon arrived at the heart of the facility.

“Ugh… Ahhh…”

“It hurts… Ahhh…!”

“A-Ah… Please, don’t…!”

The people locked in cages, their hands and feet bound, were all both similar and different.

All of them were emaciated, their eyes sunken as they trembled in fear, but they varied in age and gender.

It seemed they’d been kidnapped indiscriminately—men, women, and children, none of whom even shared the same hair or eye color.

“I’ll need reinforcements.”

If he wanted to free these people and take proper measures, he couldn’t do it alone.

Memorizing their faces, Aiger pressed on.

The smell that had unsettled him earlier hadn’t been coming from them.

Eventually, he reached a vast, brightly lit chamber.

“This is…”