Chapter 118
Custoria Manor was silent. From the outside, it almost looked like an uninhabited estate.
Whirrr—
I stepped out of the aerial vehicle.
Giselle was standing alone on the airstrip, without even a single servant. Normally, it was customary to have a few retainers or attendants accompany her.
As I glanced around, Giselle answered,
"Everyone’s busy, so I came alone."
She spoke while looking up at the sky. My gaze followed hers.
The sky was as gloomy as ever. There were no signs of an impending storm yet.
"Because of the storm?"
"The manor has to be prepared too. When the storm gets too strong, even aerial vehicles can’t be used."
I fixed my eyes on the warehouse behind the manor. There was a lot of movement over there. They seemed to be stockpiling supplies.
"What about the Commander?"
"Shouldn’t you start calling him Father?"
"It still doesn’t feel natural."
I replied as I stepped closer to Giselle. We walked along the garden path that curved around toward the manor.
Step, step.
Our pace was slow, but the walk itself was short.
"The lower district is in complete chaos after that recent procession incident. I thought you should know. Gilda and Gabriel… told me not to go down there for a while."
Giselle spoke as we reached the front gate of the manor.
‘So things really did get dangerous.’
My identity and history had been fully exposed to the public. If I wanted to go down to the lower district from now on, I would have to conceal my face.
Naturally, Giselle needed to be careful as well. I was already concerned about Barbara, so this was actually a relief. Custoria Manor was safe.
"How are people reacting now that my identity is out? I mean Gabriel’s side."
I asked casually.
"Gabriel seems a bit angry. Gilda, on the other hand, actually looks pleased. She tends to think of you like a prince."
I let out a bitter smile.
"Giselle, do as Gabriel and Gilda say and stay out of the lower district for now. It’s not a good time. Gilda is smart—she’ll handle business on her own. Besides, you can organize data from here just fine, can’t you?"
"But… No, you’re right. I should be cautious."
Giselle spoke with a lingering hesitation in her voice. She reached out and opened the manor door.
Creeeak.
Unlike usual, the main house was bustling with activity. It was clear they were busy preparing for the storm.
Given the location of Custoria Manor, their urgency was justified. The estate was in the outskirts of Akbaran, accessible only by aerial vehicles. They would need to stockpile enough supplies to last through the storm season.
"You've done a remarkable job, Lukaus. I'm incredibly proud of you. Forgive me for not visiting you while you were recovering. The circumstances weren’t favorable."
My stepmother, Eva, spoke while looking at me. She was giving instructions to the family’s servants, carrying herself as the mistress of the household.
"I only did what had to be done."
She and I always spoke in a formal, detached manner. Neither of us had any expectations of emotional connection or familial bonds. That had been abandoned long ago.
"…Never forget to do what must be done. Your father is at the Silver Moon Pavilion. He told me to let you know when you arrived."
Eva’s words carried a pointed edge. It was her way of telling me to know my place. Yet, a trace of resentment and jealousy seeped through her tone.
Silver Moon Pavilion.
It was an important place within the Custoria family. Even her biological son, Juppe, was not allowed to enter freely, while I had unrestricted access.
As if… I were the rightful heir of the Custoria family.
"I’ll see you at dinner, then."
I took a step back, distancing myself from Eva as I spoke. Then, I gave Giselle a small nod before widening the gap between us.
As I moved down the hallway, passing by servants coming and going, I made my way toward the back entrance of the manor.
"Ah, young master. It’s been a while."
"You’ve achieved something truly great."
The servants and retainers bowed their heads in greeting as soon as they saw me. I returned the gesture out of formality and hastened my steps.
I knew this manor well enough now to navigate it with my eyes closed. What once seemed overwhelmingly vast and complicated had become familiar.
No matter what anyone says, the one who brought me this far was Hemillas.
I owe him a great deal. I would have no hesitation in killing Kinuan. But Hemillas… that would not be so easy.
"Luka, we need to talk."
A harsh voice called my name. It was Juppe.
He stood by the back door, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. From the look of him, he had been waiting for me.
"I'm afraid I can't right now. I have a prior engagement with 'Father.'"
At first, Juppe’s face twisted in irritation. But then, as if trying to suppress his hostility, he lowered his arms and spoke in a calmer tone.
"I know you find me unpleasant and irritating, but make time for me."
He was being uncharacteristically earnest, making it difficult for me to ignore him.
"We can talk on the way to the Silver Moon Pavilion."
"That’s good enough."
Juppe gave a nod and opened the back door. Then, in a rare gesture of consideration, he held it open, waiting for me to pass through.
…This was different from his usual antagonistic demeanor. Something had changed in him.
Because of that, I didn’t rush my steps.
We walked the path leading from the back of the manor to the Silver Moon Pavilion.
"I’m a soldier too, Luka."
"I know."
"Something doesn’t feel right. Lately, the atmosphere has been strange. If even I can sense it, I’m sure you must know something."
Juppe was by no means a prodigy. But he wasn’t a fool either. He was an ordinary man—one who envied and resented what he didn’t have, yet at times, compromised with reality.
If you had functioning eyes, you could tell a storm was coming just by looking at the dark clouds in the distance. You didn’t need extraordinary insight for that.
That was the current state of the Empire and the military. The clouds were gathering.
Even Juppe, as a soldier, seemed to feel an inexplicable sense of unease. And Hemillas likely hadn’t given him a proper explanation.
"A storm is coming."
I answered briefly.
"…You’re close to Father, and you have a good relationship with Giselle. So I believe, as an adopted son, you must have some attachment to the Custoria family as well."
I stopped walking. Juppe halted as well.
"This is my home now. Whether I like it or not, I consider you my brother."
It was an awkward thing to say, but it needed to be said clearly. Because I truly meant it. I didn’t like Juppe, but I didn’t wish for his death. The same went for Eva.
"I don’t like you either, but I consider you part of the Custoria family. If our family faces a crisis, I will stand with you. I expect you will do the same."
Juppe extended his hand for a handshake. A symbolic truce.
I took his hand without hesitation. As our eyes met, Juppe gave a small nod before letting go.
‘Family.’
Liking or disliking each other wasn’t the point. We were part of the same house. If an external enemy appeared, our personal feelings wouldn’t matter—we would have to work together.
"Father is waiting for you. Go on."
Juppe saw me off, then turned back the way we had come.
Leaving him behind, I headed toward the Silver Moon Pavilion. The old front gate stood half-open, as if expecting me.
Knock.
I lightly tapped on the door before stepping inside.
"This is Lukaus Custoria."
A staircase leading to the second floor came into view. Below it stood Hemillas.
"Ah, good. You’re not late."
I had no idea what I supposedly wasn’t late for. Hemillas said no more and simply climbed the stairs, gesturing for me to follow. As he stepped onto the second-floor corridor, he spoke again.
"One of the Elders is waiting for you."
"For me?"
"Do you know who it is?"
A figure came to mind.
During my adoption process, two of the Elders had opposed it, four had remained silent, and only one had voted in favor.
"It must be the one who cast the sole vote in favor of my adoption."
An old memory resurfaced—an Elder who had once affectionately touched my cheek.
‘Child, you must survive for a long time. To do so, you must not be swept away by chaos—you must consume it. Even if it means your throat is torn to shreds.’
That was what he had told me. Looking back now, it felt as though he had known something. He hadn’t simply been referring to the life of an adopted son from the lower districts.
"His time is running out. He doesn’t have long left. He’s holding on purely by willpower."
A part of me felt relieved.
The reason Hemillas had summoned me to the Silver Moon Pavilion was different from what I had expected. Honestly, I had been prepared for an interrogation.
"I vaguely thought… that nobles with full-body prosthetics would be immortal. I knew, logically, that they could die of old age, but it never truly felt real."
Even with a fully cybernetic body, one could still grow old and die. I had known that in theory, but it had never hit me until now.
"Luka, even I don’t know much about the Elders. Compared to them, I am still but a child. But one thing is clear—Custoria has endured thanks to the wisdom of these sages. Always listen to their voices."
"But the choices are ours to make. As are the consequences."
The deepening wrinkles at the corners of Hemillas’s mouth suggested he was satisfied with my answer.
At the end of the second-floor corridor stood an ornate door, exuding the scent of aged wood.
Creak.
Hemillas and I stepped inside.
The room was filled with thick incense smoke. Beyond it, Elders draped in black veils stood in silence. Their dark robes trailed along the floor as though swallowing even their shadows. If ghosts were visible, I imagined they would look like this.
‘The Elders number seven.’
But only six were standing. They stood solemnly by a bedside.
One Elder, nearing death, lay on the bed. Tubes and cables jutted out from the sides, supporting what remained of his life within his cybernetic body.
"You have arrived just in time, Head of the House. And Lukaus Custoria."
The voice echoed from all directions, making it impossible to tell which of the six had spoken.
"Go on."
Hemillas nudged me forward with a nod.
As I stepped closer, the Elders shifted aside, making room.
Hiss… Hiss…
The dying Elder gasped for breath on the bed. His brain’s signals had weakened, leaving his full-body prosthetic unable to function on its own.
"I was told you summoned me, Elder."
I spoke as I sat beside the bed. From beneath the veil, a pair of eyes watched me. Their once-dull light regained a faint glimmer.
"…Your hand."
The Elder on the bed spoke. I reached out and held his hand. Despite his full-body prosthetics, I could feel how weak he had become.
Rustle.
The other Elders didn’t just step back—they quietly began leaving the room one by one. Even Hemillas exited.
Before I realized it, I was alone with the dying Elder.
‘Why? Why would he want to speak to me alone?’
Even Akies Victima’s intuition couldn’t grasp what was happening.
The situation was so unusual that, at first, I suspected it might be a trap set by the Custoria family to eliminate me. But if that were the case, there was no reason to go through such an elaborate process.
"Elder, is there a secret about me? Genetically or otherwise…"
Only one conclusion remained. I had questioned it before. The thought that I might have been designed for a specific purpose.
But despite being on the verge of death, the Elder’s shoulders trembled with laughter. His breath was rough and uneven.
"Child, you can put that worry to rest. Even those who govern the stars and the scientists who trespassed upon the domain of gods have failed to recreate and control humanity. Listen to me. From the time when lightning was believed to be a divine spear and volcanic eruptions were seen as the wrath of gods, all the way to this era—where atheism is common sense and mankind travels between planets—one truth has remained unchanged."
There was a deep fondness in the Elder’s voice. Though his tone was calm, it almost felt like he was singing.
"I’m listening."
"As always, when humanity faces an overwhelming force beyond its control, it turns to the chaos of the universe and prays. Inevitably, people come to believe in fate. Luka, do you believe in fate?"
I hesitated, my lips slightly parted before I finally spoke.
"Fate is unscientific. But… there are moments when I can’t help but acknowledge its existence."
There are times when no other word but fate can explain a situation. I knew that even without living a full half-century. Someone who had lived many times longer than I had would surely feel the weight of that word even more.
"Artificial reproduction is impossible. Even if the genetics are identical, the outcomes will always differ. The belief that human effort can create miracles is nothing more than the arrogance of ignorance. But this universe is different. When inevitabilities, woven together through chaos, overlap, they become fate—and that fate, as if by some cruel joke, re-creates the past. That is why I believe in reincarnation, child. Even if it is nothing more than an illusion conjured by a fragile consciousness, I am fine with that."
"…I don’t quite understand what you mean."
"You will, in time. I am simply glad I could meet you one last time. I wish I could say more, but it would only serve to satisfy myself."
A sharp pang struck my chest. It wasn’t fate I was feeling. It was as if this person’s emotions were reaching me. A force of will so strong that it seemed capable of delaying even death itself.
"If there is anything I can do, I will."
If it was within my power, I wanted to grant his request.
"Keep fate by your side, but do not be swept away by it, Lukaus Custoria. That is my only wish."
I stared silently at the Elder for a moment before reaching out. Without realizing it, my fingers lifted the veil.
Beneath it was a stark, featureless visage. Not the face of a human, but a mechanical one, devoid even of synthetic skin. The Elders of the Custoria family had erased even their own identities in their pursuit of existence.
And yet, I felt as if I knew his name.
A causal determinism that seemed to resonate with Akies Victima.
The first rebellion, Noel Mullizcane. And figure from Custoria’s past, living in that same era.
Fragments of events and years locked into place. Every time a piece didn’t fit, I overturned the board, reconstructing my reasoning from the ground up until the puzzle aligned.
Blood trickled from my nose. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and opened my eyes.
…It wasn’t perfect, but the picture in my mind was complete enough. Only one name lingered on the tip of my tongue, and I cautiously spoke it aloud.
"Your name… is Agatha. Agatha Custoria, isn’t it?"
The woman who had founded the Custoria family. The progenitor—Agatha Custoria.
At my words, her eyes widened.
If her cybernetic body had the ability to shed tears, she would have.
"It is likely the result of high-speed, multi-faceted inference through Akies Victima… but I would like to believe that you recognized me, Noel."
Agatha Custoria was a woman who wished to believe in fate and reincarnation.