“Any news about the Raven?”

“My apologies, Your Highness. Still nothing…”

The prince frowned at the attendant’s response. The Raven, who had been dispatched on a secret mission to assassinate Duke Eustace, had been out of contact for days. At this point, it was safe to assume the mission had failed. The prince’s blue eyes darkened.

“I told you it was too early for this,” he muttered, exhaling a heavy sigh at the Emperor’s reckless decision.

From the outset, he hadn’t expected the Raven to succeed. Assassinating the Grand Duke outright was a high-risk move, after all.

Of course, as a human being, the prince couldn’t help but hope things would work out in his favor. Duke Eustace was bound to remain a major obstacle even after the prince ascended the throne. If the Raven had managed to eliminate him, it would have been a stroke of luck.

“Useless creature, can’t even handle one task properly,” he gritted out.

The prince ground his teeth at the thought of the Raven. The assassin had recently ascended to the rank of high-tier expert, making her a potentially valuable asset. But now, before she could fully prove her worth, she had vanished without a trace. To the prince, this felt like losing a tool that could have been put to good use.

“Why did His Majesty take such reckless action in the first place?”

The prince muttered irritably, convinced this was the Emperor’s doing. In his view, the Emperor had wasted a rare resource.

A high-tier expert was equivalent to a 5th or 6th-circle mage—a rare and valuable asset in the Empire. Though her existence wasn’t publicly acknowledged, the Raven was the Empire’s twelfth high-tier expert.

Sending such a critical asset on a reckless assassination mission and losing her was a costly blunder, prompting the prince to let out a long sigh.

“Ugh,” he muttered, grimacing as he contemplated the future.

In the Empire, where Swordmasters were currently absent, high-tier experts held immense strategic value. Moreover, they were a critical counterbalance to the Grand Duke’s power.

However, about 15 years ago, relations between the Emperor and the martial families had soured completely over the Empress’s downfall. The Emperor had deposed the Empress and confined her to a cold palace for allegedly giving birth to an aberration.

The Empress’s father, Marcia, a border marquis revered by the Empire’s warriors, had stepped down and fought as a common soldier on the frontlines to atone for his daughter’s supposed crime. This incident led most of the martial families to turn against the Emperor.

Currently, the royal family maintained ties with only four families: the Perron Dukes, who traditionally served as the royal knights’ commanders; the Sevilla Counts, who produced the new shadow leader; and the Urgo Marquises and Neuss Counts, long-standing adversaries of the border marquis who had supported the Empress’s removal.

“How frustrating,” the prince muttered, clenching his teeth as he thought of the deceased Empress. Unlike the Emperor, the prince felt a faint sense of pity for his mother. However, his feelings toward the Raven were anything but sympathetic.

“Do you hate me so much?”

The Raven had asked him that once, long ago. The prince recalled her emotionless face as she had looked at him with those sharp eyes. At the time, he had answered without hesitation.

“Yes, I do. If it weren’t for you, everything would have been different. I wouldn’t have been born flawed, and my mother wouldn’t have met such a miserable end.”

The Crown Prince blamed the Raven for his weaker magic compared to Grand Duke Eustace and his lack of magical talent. It was also the Emperor’s frequent refrain.

“You’re lacking, still too weak to match Eustace. That damned Eustace’s blood is always blocking your path and mine.”

The Emperor rejoiced with every achievement of the Crown Prince but always expressed regret. Though he cherished his son, who resembled him, he also saw the boy as a tool to fulfill the ambitions he couldn’t realize himself.

“If only you hadn’t been born a twin. If that were the case, you could have defeated that wretched Eustace.”

The Emperor’s regret always ended with lamentations. Having grown up hearing such words, the Crown Prince naturally came to loathe the crow.

If not for the Raven, he believed he would have been born with magic as vast as the Grand Duke’s. If that were the case, the deposed Empress wouldn’t have met such a miserable end. The resentment deeply rooted in the Crown Prince’s consciousness by the Emperor only grew stronger over time.

How wonderful it would have been if he had been born not as a twin but as a single, perfect being. Even knowing it was an impossible wish, the Crown Prince could never let go of that thought.

Twins held a delicate position within the Empire. While twin births were celebrated in warrior families, they weren’t in mage families. For a long time, there had been a superstition in the Empire that twins born into mage families shared the magical power meant for one.

Whether true or not, twins from mage families were often less talented than others, leading many to take the belief as fact.

This was why the Emperor was enraged when the Empress gave birth to twins. His fury grew even stronger upon discovering that one of the twins was a mutation born without any magic at all.

“Have there been no updates from the spy who infiltrated the Grand Duke’s estate?”

“Unfortunately… there hasn’t been any word for some time. We are trying to send others to investigate, but the security is so tight…”

“What kind of incompetence is this!”

Unable to suppress his anger, the Crown Prince roared. His frightened aides and attendants prostrated themselves on the floor.

“Do you dare call yourselves proud officials and servants of the Esteban Empire? Not a single one of you can do your job properly!”

“We beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. Please quell your anger.”

Crash!

The teacup thrown against the wall shattered into pieces, and a chair kicked over clattered noisily on the floor. The Crown Prince, still fuming, breathed heavily, as though his rage hadn’t yet subsided. His pale-faced aide bowed repeatedly. At times like this, anyone who displeased the Crown Prince could expect at least a broken arm.

“Who cares about the Grand Duke’s condition! I told you to at least find out whether the Raven is dead or alive!”

It was certain that Grand Duke Eustace was alive, whether injured or not. For now, they needed to bide their time and wait for the next opportunity.

The real issue was the Raven’s whereabouts. If she were still alive and captured by the Grand Duke, things could become complicated. Should she fail to withstand torture and reveal the backers behind her or if the Grand Duke discovered her true identity, the situation could escalate and lead to a scandal. That had to be prevented at all costs.

“Damn it all…!” 

“Your Highness, the chamberlain requests an audience.”

A terrified voice came from outside. Soon, the door opened, and a middle-aged man with a composed demeanor entered. He adjusted his glasses as he surveyed the chaotic state of the room.

“What is it?”

“His Majesty has summoned you.”

“Damn it.”

At Chamberlain’s words, the Crown Prince raked back his disheveled hair. A trembling attendant quickly approached to straighten his clothing.

Tap. Tap.

The sound of steady footsteps echoed in the tense hallway. The guards standing at the door recognized the Crown Prince and bowed deeply. The Crown Prince raised a hand to silence the guard who started to speak and stood before the tightly closed doors, taking a deep breath.

“Announce me.”

“Your Majesty, the Crown Prince requests an audience.”

No sooner had the guard finished speaking than the doors opened, as if they had been waiting. Only a faint purple glow emanated from the darkened room. The Emperor was testing a new magical artifact developed by the court mages without even lighting the lamps.

“Father, you summoned me?”
 

“What of the Raven?”

The Emperor spoke languidly, without even looking at the Crown Prince. His voice was thick and raspy, as though clogged with phlegm, causing the Crown Prince to swallow dryly.

“My apologies. We have yet to locate her.”

“And the birds we have outside?”

“…It seems they were hunted down.”

“Useless.”

At the news that their spies had likely been compromised, the Emperor’s irritation became evident. The Crown Prince stiffened at the oppressive, humid magical energy swirling through the chamber.

“Ugh.”

He felt a wave of nausea and bit down on his lower lip. With a grim expression, he watched the blood-colored magic churn. That wasn’t the Emperor’s original magic.

Traditionally, the magic of the Esteban imperial family shimmered in golden or blue hues. The Emperor’s magic had originally been a pale gold. However, it had gradually changed color since he began a new research project last year.

What on earth was he researching? The Crown Prince forced himself to suppress the unease that gnawed at him. He still didn’t know the details of the Emperor’s work. The research was being carried out in absolute secrecy.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. The Emperor often conducted secret projects, some of which were so controversial that their mere revelation would spark outrage. He had assumed this was more of the same.

He only began to sense something was wrong after witnessing the change in the Emperor’s magic. Since the moment he saw the once-golden magic turn crimson, the Crown Prince couldn’t shake an ominous feeling.

“Send an envoy again this afternoon. I shall send a personal letter expressing my concern for the Grand Duke’s health.”

The emperor exhaled deeply, gathering and containing the turbulent surge of magic. He still struggled to fully control his altered power.

“Bring me any information you can. I leave this matter in your hands. Use any means necessary.”

“Understood.”

The emperor, looking suddenly weary, rubbed his face with a dry hand. The crown prince parted his lips as if to speak but closed them again, bowing silently before turning to leave.

“My son.”

“Yes, Father.”

The hoarse voice from behind seemed to seize the prince by his ankles.

“Do not disappoint me.”

In the darkness, the emperor’s blue eyes shimmered briefly with a red hue, echoing the corrupted magic within him.

“…I will never disappoint you.”

“Good. I trust you.”

The emperor smiled faintly, seemingly satisfied with the response. His eyes, now restored to their usual blue, softened to mirror the gaze of a father cherishing his child.