“Your Majesty.”
The following day, in the office of Empress Tia.
Letters and reports from across the continent were piled in a mountain atop her desk. But Tia simply sat at her chair, mindlessly stamping documents without reading a single one.
“Your Majesty.”
Pause.
At the repeated call, Tia finally set her stamp down and raised her gaze. Her deadened eyes made the attendant flinch.
“The Tower Master from the Blue Tower has arrived.”
“…The Tower Master?” Tia tilted her head, “I didn’t summon her.”
“The advisor sent the request.”
“The advisor did?” Tia’s expression twisted, “The Royal Knights haven’t returned. The Royal Guard Captain isn’t back either. And now they’re summoning a mage without my order?”
As her eyes began to turn hysterical, the attendant grew tense.
Knock knock knock.
Someone tapped on the office door.
Tia turned toward the sound.
Knock knock knock.
The knocking came again.
She remembered that she had instructed people not to say anything when she was in her office, just knock. She sighed.
“Let her in.”
At her command, the attendant moved to open the door slightly and stepped outside.
Clack.
The attendant exited, and the door opened again.
Then, flanked by maids, stepped in the one they had spoken of—
“Tia.”
It was Yuru, the genius mage and current Tower Master of the Blue Tower.
Her long-brimmed hat cast a shadow over her face, and her blue hair flowed gently over her shoulders. In her hand, as always, she held her Grimoire.
That alone was enough to send waves of pressure radiating from her.
But it wasn’t just the aura that made Yuru formidable.
She had become the youngest Grand Mage in history. She had vaporized several Demon King forces in battle. And she had personally beaten the Demon General Greenif, another Grand Mage, to death after cutting off his mana supply using her enchanted staff.
People called her the Iron Sage, and it wasn’t an exaggeration.
“So? Why’d you call me?”
Even someone like Yuru was expected to show courtesy before an empress. Though, as the Tower Master, they were equals in standing.
Still, Yuru discarded that formality and addressed Tia without hesitation.
“…Yuru.” Tia looked at her with a cold, unreadable expression, “My advisor summoned you without permission. I don’t need your help. Go back to the Tower.”
“…”
“Leave.”
Though Tia kept repeating herself, Yuru didn’t move.
Finally, Tia asked, “Do you have something to say?”
“I do.”
“Go ahead.”
Yuru stepped forward, stopping just before Tia’s desk.
The attendant twitched in alarm, walk to stop her, but Tia raised a hand, signaling to let it be.
“You should never have let brother die.”
Gasps erupted from the attendant and the maids nearby.
It was a line that should never have been spoken in front of Tia.
But Yuru kept going.
“The Holy Alliance used him as a pretext. If you didn’t comply, they’d brand Ezer as a heretical state for sheltering him. Eventually, they’d start a Holy War.”
“Yuru.”
“I know. There was evidence. That’s why we both stayed quiet—didn’t we?”
Clench.
Her grip on the Grimoire tightened.
“But I think we were wrong.”
Tia, as empress, and Yuru, as Tower Master, both were forced to prioritize the greater good. They had acted out of duty.
They followed what the evidence said, not what their hearts screamed. They weighed consequences over feelings.
And they gave up the Hero.
“We shouldn’t have let him die.”
Back then, they thought it was the only responsible choice. A burden to be borne by those with power.
Enduring even that was a virtue they believed necessary.
“I should’ve just let myself fall and be branded a heretic too.”
“M-Madam Tower Master!”
The shocked attendant called out.
But Yuru didn’t stop. She had already made up her mind.
“We need to fix this,” She opened her Grimoire, “I’ve found a way. I can bring brother back.”
Tia’s eyebrow twitched. Yuru didn’t notice.
“I’ll extract his soul from the Realm Of Death and reincarnate him,” She confessed that she had come because she needed help from the imperial family, “I need the palace to procure a few materials. I made a list. Just secure those. And… there’s one thing you must get no matter what.”
And then came the shocking part.
“I need the Crown Prince of Holy Krata. He’s received multiple divine blessings. I’ll use his body as the vessel.”
No one—neither maid nor attendant—could speak. They just stared at her, jaws slack.
“I heard there’s an upcoming banquet he’ll attend. You need to get him out. I could do it, but the ritual will take time. And I’m specialized in large-scale spells. If I kidnapped him, it’d be too conspicuous. You do it. Stall for time.”
Then I’ll reincarnate brother into that body—she ended.
“…”
Not possession.
Reincarnation.
She planned to kill the Crown Prince’s soul and overwrite it with Clay’s.
And judging by how clearly she had selected her target—someone capable of withstanding intense curses and magical backlash—she was completely serious.
Everyone else stood paralyzed, but finally, Tia opened her mouth.
“If you want to do it—do it alone.”
Her tear-stained eyes, rimmed in dark circles, barely retained any life as she looked at Yuru.
“I am the Empress of Ezer.”
She had already made her decision.
She was the one who had executed Clay.
“I won’t join in something that’s clearly unstable and forbidden magic.”
“…Really?” Yuru asked quietly.
Tia didn’t answer right away.
Her hand trembled beneath the table as she clenched her fists.
“Don’t test me, Yuru.”
“No—you don’t test me,” Yuru’s tone hardened, “You bear the greatest blame.”
“Blame?”
“You could’ve saved Clay with a single command.”
“And if I had?”
Tia’s voice cracked like a paper caught in wind, “Ezer would’ve become an enemy of the Holy Alliance. We’d be labeled heretics for sparing the most dangerous man on the continent.”
She turned it back on Yuru, “If you really wanted to save him, you should’ve wiped them all out. Then at least Clay would’ve lived, and we could’ve fled Ezer.”
“If I had done that, the fragile peace between Towers would’ve crumbled again.”
“There you go,” Tia sneered, “You’re just as much a slave to ideals. Just another coward wrapped in principles.”
“What…?”
“You’re the one who killed Clay. Not me,” She slammed her trembling hand on the desk and stood, shouting, “You could’ve saved him! So what if the Towers collapsed?! I had even more to carry on my shoulders!”
“Hey,” Yuru’s eyes flared with raw fury, “You bitch.”
Any rules about not insulting the royal family shattered inside that room.
“You were the one who chose to kill him. Because of that, we were powerless. The Holy Alliance sent overseers, even Tower Masters from other Towers. You think I could’ve fought back? Clay wouldn’t have been saved—we all would’ve died, damn it!”
A magic circle began forming at Yuru’s feet.
A dark red glyph spun violently.
The attendant, terrified, backed up to the wall and collapsed, “They used Guardian Knights to seize him. Right up to the execution. I couldn’t even get close.”
“I…”
“You allowed all of it! You! You absolute lunatic!”
Rummmble!
The spell was fully charged.
“You should’ve died! If you had, then Clay wouldn’t have!”
“…I…”
“Shut up!”
Yuru’s roar sent shockwaves through the room. The wind swirled like a storm, tossing papers and even tearing her hat from her head.
Whssh.
Her long blue hair flew wildly, revealing her face beneath.
She looked like a wreck. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her lips were cracked and chewed.
“Help me,” She said it again to Tia, “That’s all I need you to do. Just that.”
“…”
Tia stared at her in silence.
Her throat clenched with emotion. She swallowed it down, dug her nails into her palm, then suddenly raised her head.
“Clay did the wrong thing.”
Her blue eyes shimmered coldly.
“If he hadn’t been a pawn of the Demon King… none of this would’ve happened.”
“What…?”
“Do your disgusting rituals alone, Yuru.”
She had to justify it.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to endure.
“I don’t regret anything.”
Tia de Mezelef.
All that remained of her now… was lies.
(End of Chapter)