Children of the Holy Emperor

Riccardo hurried out of the mansion, throwing on his overcoat as he went. Time was running out for him.

“Young Master? The gathering is still in full swing, where on earth are you off to?”

The old butler, taken aback, rushed over, but Riccardo, without so much as looking back, responded, “An urgent matter has come up; I must step away for a while.”

“But what about the guests you’ve invited…?”

“Ask my brother Domenico to handle the gathering and wrap things up appropriately!”

Flustered, the butler stuttered in response, but Riccardo couldn’t afford to delay any longer. He was so rushed that he almost let slip a curse out loud.

Damn Sigurd Sigurdson!

Despite Prince Morres’s threatening provocation, how could he stir up such a huge mess all of a sudden, leaving him to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t even have time to gather travel expenses. How long would it take for the imperial authority to catch on and reach out here?

‘First, I need to dash to the carriage and get out of the capital. Then, in the morning, I’ll stop by the nearest Hayden Bank to withdraw some money!’

Riccardo hastened towards the back gate, where the Scarcepino family’s carriage, ready for departure at any moment, awaited him, having been brought from his family home.

‘Once out of the capital, the imperial surveillance will lax. Should I pass through Asein to Carthago? No, better to head for one of the secluded rural estates in Anatolia…’

That’s when it happened.

Suddenly, someone from behind grabbed him by the nape of his neck and slammed him forcefully to the ground.

With a whoosh, Riccardo was lifted into the air, then pressed down from above with such force that he fell back-first onto the ground.

Crash!

“Ugh!”

Riccardo, having fallen squarely without any technique to break his fall, felt a sharp pain as if his spine had shattered. As he swallowed a groan from the tingling agony, he realized someone was grabbing his collar and squinted to see who it was.

The one who had pinned him to the ground was a paladin.

A tall woman dressed in the dark ash-colored uniform of the Holy Order of Saint Terbacchia stood before him. Her pale face was framed by crow-black hair[1] that cascaded down smoothly.

“An Inquisitor?”

Where did an Inquisitor come from all of a sudden?

As he looked up at her with bewildered eyes, the woman lifted one corner of her mouth in a chilling smile.

Then.

[Speak now.]

A voice that seemed to bore into his head and resonate, gender indeterminate, reached his ears.

[Where has he sent my son?]

“You are…!”

As night fell and darkness enveloped them, a cold silvery light, brighter than the moon in the sky, flickered in the woman’s eyes.

***

Seongjin was never one to believe in superstitions.

That’s why he used to find it hard to understand when his fellow Hunters would make a fuss about accidentally stepping on a crack before a battle, or predict the success of their mission based on the color of their underwear for the day.

Take, for example, a junior from his university days who was also a Hunter.

That guy had a peculiar habit of needing to stare at the monster with his left eye right before combat, despite the fact that his left eye was relatively weaker than the right!

What a case of irrational and superstitious behavior arising from an inability to shake off such faulty conditioning.

“You idiot! How is using an eye that barely sees supposed to help in defeating monsters?”

Seongjin never hesitated to smack him on the back of the head whenever he did that.

‘Looking back, I might have been too narrow-minded…’

Lying on the damp floor, Seongjin pondered this for a moment.

By now, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to believe that he was cursed with bad luck whenever he attended social gatherings.

Yes, ‘The Curse of Social Gatherings’ sounds like an apt name for this jinx.

[Seongjin, are you alright?]

‘…Yeah.’

At the sound of the Demon King’s voice, Seongjin blinked for a moment before getting up. Since he could feel his arms and legs properly, it seemed he hadn’t been ejected soul-first like before.

After patting the handle of the nutcracker at his waist, Seongjin slowly looked around.

‘Where am I?’

Seongjin found himself in a dark corridor.

It was wide enough for about four men to walk abreast, but it was so dimly lit that it was hard to tell where it led.

The floor was damp stone, suggesting moisture, and the walls were also made of flat stone. There seemed to be some sort of relief on them, but it was too dark and covered in moss to make out any details.

—”I am the Demon King of Dreams.”

After Riccardo’s sudden change in demeanor and these words,

Seongjin found himself enveloped by a swarm of blue butterflies that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and before he knew it, he was falling into this predicament. Considering where Seongjin was just moments ago, the only plausible place to fall into would have been the ballroom downstairs.

‘…But this clearly isn’t the ballroom, is it?’

[This might very well be a completely different world, Seongjin. I can sense the laws of a vast, governing realm here.]

The Demon King cautiously suggested.

Given that Dileraria’s butterflies have the ability to traverse dimensions, the theory that Seongjin was swept into another world by them isn’t far-fetched.

One thing, however, was certain.

‘Sigurd Sigurdson, you cowardly bastard…!’

Though it’s unclear what method he used, the moment Sigurd felt at a disadvantage, he sent Seongjin flying to who-knows-where and made a quick escape!

[Why did you have to provoke him, losing your temper like that? You could have slipped away to inform your father, or at least tried to coax some information out of him more subtly.]

The Demon King scolded, but Seongjin shook his head.

‘Do you think he would have just let me go? That bastard had been setting up that barrier from the start.’

That probably explained the unease Seongjin felt several times during their conversation.

‘The moment he realized I wasn’t the same Morres from before, he must have been preparing for this situation. Do you really think such a guy would’ve just spilled the beans if I asked?’

[Still, that’s no excuse.]

Moreover, Seongjin had been feeling an odd sensation since a while back.

“The Oracle of the previous era met a very lonely and tragic end. And the Oracle of this era was destined to meet the same fate.”

Hearing those words, Seongjin couldn’t understand why a surge of anger suddenly welled up inside him. The thought that everything was that bastard’s fault crossed his mind, and he felt an involuntary urge to throw a punch, his fist tightening with the impulse.

Why did I react like that at the time?

Puzzled, Seongjin scratched his head for a moment.

[What’s the plan now? If this really is another world, we might not be able to return to Delcross.]

“Hmm…”

Well, to be honest, he wasn’t overly worried.

First, he’d look around for an escape route, and if that failed, he could always call on the emperor.

After all, wasn’t he the same person who had followed Seongjin all the way to the Sigurd-34, and even across the distant dimensional boundaries? Surely, he’d manage to find him this time too?

Of course, he was prepared to receive at least a light reprimand.

“Let’s start moving in one direction.”

With that resolution, Seongjin drew out the Nutcracker and carved a large X on the stone wall.

The stone dust flew up as a shallow mark was etched into the wall.

“Alright. This will be the starting point.”

Then, Seongjin surveyed the corridor to his left and right, pondering which direction to take. Both were shrouded in deep darkness, making it hard to decide.

“…Right.”

Was it just a feeling? It seemed like there was a faint presence of someone beyond the right corridor.

Without hesitation, Seongjin added a small arrow next to the X to indicate the direction and then turned to walk towards the sensed presence with determined steps.

For a while, Seongjin and the Demon King were silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

The sudden drop into this strange place had left them disoriented, but the conversation they had with the storyteller from another dimension had provided them with a wealth of information that needed to be sorted through.

Firstly, regarding the Oracle.

Assuming what the storyteller said was true, Morres might have been the next Oracle, endowed with the power of prophecy. Then, it was quite clear who the current Oracle was.

The Cornsheim clan, known for skillfully manipulating souls and being channelers.

And the secret organization Arenja, where the surviving members of that clan were active.

Then, wouldn’t it be strange if the Holy Emperor, who freely moves as a soul and directly leads Arenja, had no connection to that clan?

“He is still alive. He merely sealed the prophecy and chose complete silence.”

Right. Now that he thought about it, the Holy Emperor always clammed up whenever sensitive topics arose.

No matter how he thought about it, it seemed too coincidental for what he had said to match up so perfectly.

“Setting that aside…”

What was that other thing he said?

“In this halted world, only you were the unique friend who could understand me.”

What did it mean by the world being “halted”?

As Seongjin pondered this, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, noticing something odd.

“Huh? What’s this?”

[What? What’s going on?]

“…”

Narrowing his eyes, Seongjin carefully examined one side of the stone wall. Although it was faint due to the darkness, there appeared to be some sort of rectangular gap in the corridor wall.

Surrounded by a rectangle about the size of a person, the gap looked almost like a door at a glance.

As Seongjin approached to get a better look, he instinctively touched the stone wall. Suddenly, a clear window appeared before his eyes.

〚The conditions to open this □ have not been met.〛

Seongjin stepped back in astonishment.

What is this?

“Hey, Demon King, did you see that? What is this? Some kind of text appeared out of thin air?”

The Demon King let out a thoughtful hum.

[It seems we are indeed in a realm governed by rules, Seongjin. Such notices are common features in such worlds.]

“…A notice?”

[Yes. Depending on the laws that govern the world, messages like this can appear frequently. In places where the influence is strong, even minor details like an individual’s abilities, vitality, fatigue levels, and so on can be displayed numerically.]

“Wow…”

When Seongjin cautiously touched the gap again, the broken text reappeared before his eyes.

〚The conditions to open this □ have not been met.〛

Doesn’t this feel somewhat like a game?

While Seongjin was amusingly touching and detaching his hand from the wall surface, the Demon King spoke in a slightly more serious tone.

[This isn’t the time to find it amusing. The problem is that this notice is completely broken, Seongjin.]

“Huh? Why is that an issue?”

[A properly functioning realm governed by rules operates under a set of standardized laws, making it an extremely stable world. It’s uncommon for notices like this to be broken.]

The Demon King then continued in a soft voice.

[There are only two explanations for this. One is that this place is a dead world, no longer maintained or cared for. The other is that it’s surplus space, abandoned and never integrated into any world from the beginning.]

…Surplus space?

[Yes. I’ve heard rumors about it. Somewhere within the gaps between dimensions, there’s a place like a cosmic junkyard, where fragments of old, useless realms governed by rules gather.]

Seongjin slightly furrowed his brows.

A junkyard, huh? That doesn’t sound too promising.

[It’s a place created by the laws of a realm governed by rules, but since it’s already broken, it’s not bound by those laws. Once you enter, it’s a nightmare from which it’s nearly impossible to escape under normal circumstances.]

“…..”

[Another term for it is ‘Labyrinth.’]

Just then,

“Hey, wait a minute!”

Seongjin suddenly tensed up, his senses on high alert.

The sound of rapid footsteps approached, signaling the presence of someone unknown moving quickly towards them. It was the same faint presence Seongjin had initially felt.

But as the presence grew closer and became clearer…

“Huh? This feels strangely familiar?”

Swoosh.

As Seongjin reflexively drew his Nutcracker, contemplating this, a figure emerged from the dark corridor. It was a young man with a notably robust physique.

He had his sword pointed in their direction but gradually halted his steps. Upon seeing Seongjin, he startled, then lowered his weapon and said,

“…Your Highness?”

Seongjin blinked in surprise.

Wait a minute, why is Orden here?

Footnotes