Monday, December 23, 2024

Chapter 70

Ch-70

The castle of Zair bore an uncanny resemblance to the Emerald Castle of Sethian. It wasn’t merely a matter of appearance; the very structure was identical. While it was customary for the emperor’s five children to each possess castles that shared similar exteriors but varied interiors, this place felt like a replica of Sethian’s domain.

Hovering silently through the corridor, Yi Gyeol cautiously phased through a door ahead.

"Just as I thought..."

As expected, beyond the door lay a study. The arrangement of bookshelves, even their sheer number, mirrored that of Sethian’s.

Ever since Yi Gyeol had learned to read, he insisted on selecting books personally from Sethian's study rather than relying on the one-sided choices he retrieved from the imperial library. Though he’d only observed in his ethereal state, he’d taken enough time to carefully inspect the bookshelves and their contents. That familiarity now made the resemblance glaringly obvious.

The majority of the books here were not only identical to those Sethian owned but were arranged in the exact same way. While other rooms contained slight variations—additional furniture or a different layout that served as distinguishing features—this study felt almost unnervingly like a doppelgänger.

"Could this really be coincidence?"

Even as the question crossed his mind, Yi Gyeol was certain it wasn’t. Sethian wasn’t the type to meticulously replicate Zair’s castle, let alone mimic the selection and placement of books.

The reason behind this peculiar design eluded him, but the sheer mimicry left a bitter aftertaste.

Surveying the study one last time, Yi Gyeol stepped back out into the corridor and resumed his flight. Though passing straight through walls would have been faster, he refrained; the thought of accidentally entering a room where Zair might be lurking weighed heavily on his mind. Zair, unlike most others, could still see him in this state, making carelessness a dangerous luxury.

As he cautiously entered yet another room, Yi Gyeol’s thoughts churned.

What he truly wanted was to leave this castle, to scour every corner of the outside world for Sethian. After all, it was absurd to think she would remain here in Zair’s castle after being framed for fratricide and arrested. Yet, despite the futility of staying, Yi Gyeol stubbornly lingered.

Even if he found Sethian and threw himself into her embrace, what good would it do? There was nothing he could offer in his current state.

"I have to focus on what I can do."

As an incorporeal spirit, he was invisible to most—save a rare few, like Zair and Roa. That meant this was an opportunity, a rare chance to uncover what Zair was plotting and what lay ahead.

He knew Zair sought Sethian’s death. That much was undeniable. It wasn’t just Zair—all their siblings harbored the same intent. Despite their relentless assaults, Sethian had never retaliated in kind. She never sought vengeance, never aimed to kill in return. To Yi Gyeol, Sethian was almost saintlike, her icy exterior a mere facade.

Yet Zair had turned this virtuous sibling into a murderer in the eyes of all.

"The Emperor knew that Sethian was scheming to eliminate us one by one," Zair had once proclaimed. "Not just me—all our siblings would have fallen by his hand. That’s why His Majesty joined me in uncovering his plans. But who could have imagined Sethian would kill our brother even before the day of his capture?"

Lies.

Sethian would never do such a thing.

Everything was Zair’s fabrication. Somewhere in this castle, there must be evidence. And where better to start than close to the criminal himself? The clearest clues often lay near the culprit.

Yi Gyeol steeled himself, nerves tightly wound. He knew that if Zair discovered him wandering the halls, the consequences could be catastrophic. Yet he remained vigilant, his sharp mind racing as he scanned every corner.

For now, the only anomaly was how closely this castle mirrored Sethian’s. The resemblance extended to the layout, the purpose of each room, and even the placement of furniture.

But then, just as frustration began to set in over the lack of progress, Yi Gyeol froze.

At the far end of a corridor stood a door. He recognized it instantly—Sethian’s castle had an identical room. Beyond that door lay a salon, a gathering space furnished with ornate decorations, art pieces, tables, and an abundance of chairs. Stocked with poetry collections, chessboards, and playing cards, it was designed for social events. Sethian had never used hers, leaving it untouched. A quick glance revealed Zair’s version was similarly neglected.

After a brief look around, Yi Gyeol retreated from the room, back into the corridor. His gaze shifted to what initially seemed like a plain wall.

Two familiar spirits, in the form of white butterflies, hovered in place. They stood like sentinels, separated by a small gap.

"Come to think of it..."

Yi Gyeol returned to the salon for a closer inspection. Though spacious, this version felt marginally smaller than Sethian’s.

Stepping back into the corridor, he approached the space between the spirits. What appeared to be a solid wall had a subtle giveaway: a peculiar door handle. From the salon’s entrance, it was so seamlessly concealed it could easily be mistaken for part of the wall.

Unlike the soldiers stationed throughout the castle, these spirits guarded the area. While they couldn’t physically repel intruders, they could swiftly and discreetly alert Zair.

The handle itself was strange—a keyhole surrounded by four small circular indentations. It was unlike anything Yi Gyeol had seen before, clearly designed to ensure only the rightful owner could access it.

An inexplicable certainty gripped him.

This was it. The one place that differed from Sethian’s castle.

This hidden chamber must be Zair’s secret, the heart of his schemes.

A surge of tension and excitement coursed through Yi Gyeol as he approached the door with utmost caution, careful not to disturb the vigilant spirits.


“…But I don’t think he’s going to say much more than denying it’s his doing.”

Terron, the young commander of the Templars clad in black armor, delivered a terse report. Zair, who had been listening with rapt attention, leaned back in his chair and propped his chin on his hand, his expression clouded with puzzlement.

“What are you thinking?”

To Zair’s softly muttered question, Terron offered no immediate reply. Beneath the shadow of his black mask, his lips twitched awkwardly, as though he were about to speak, yet no words escaped him.

“What of the minions in the Emerald Castle?”

“They, too, maintain the Prince of Sethian’s innocence but take no further action.”

The sound of the horse’s uneven breathing—halting and irregular rather than the steady rhythm one might expect—seemed to grate against Zair’s already frayed nerves. Yet, he did not lash out or display displeasure. On the contrary, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as though some unseen thought amused him.

“Tell the Templars this: if anything happens, you may take his life. Just make sure to hold onto the body.”

At these words, Terron’s shoulders stiffened, his hands balling into tight fists. Encased in black gloves, his fingers appeared unnatural—jagged and uneven in both size and length, a grotesque reminder of his imperfect form.

“Without this body, I would…”

Terron’s voice faltered as his courage wavered under Zair’s piercing gaze. The mask obscured his expression, but the faint twist of his lips suggested a struggle to suppress his unease.

Zair’s scowl softened abruptly, giving way to a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry. The next body you’ll inhabit will be flawless—a perfect human form, unlike the previous failures. It will be crafted with the intelligence of a soul, ensuring that the rejection you’ve suffered before will be negligible.”

“A new body…”

Terron’s voice quivered, tinged with barely contained excitement.

The prospect of a perfect, human-like form—one devoid of the glaring defects and constant rejection he had endured—lit a spark of hope within him. His trembling fists betrayed the depth of his anticipation.

For the first time in a long while, Terron’s steps were filled with purpose as he departed the laboratory. Watching this, Zair’s smile widened, his amusement deepening.

His thoughts turned to the woman confined within his chambers.

A flawless human body, so perfect that no one could discern it was manufactured.

Zair’s heart raced as he envisioned the culmination of his work, a body brought to life by his ingenuity.

“To achieve that, a quick brainwashing is essential,” he murmured.

Though it was earlier than planned, the time had come to employ the drug he had perfected through Eda. This concoction was no ordinary substance—it dulled judgment, sapped mental resilience, and drove its victim into deep despair and loneliness, fostering an unnatural dependence on those nearby.

To Zair’s calculating mind, it was the ideal tool for someone like Joo Yi Gyeol.

The mere thought of her tearfully clinging to him sent a twisted thrill coursing through his veins.

Was this, perhaps, how Sethian had felt?

As the image of Sethian’s marks came to mind—faint traces left to defy erasure—Zair’s grin widened. The thought of what expressions Sethian might wear when confronted with the fruits of his work filled him with an almost euphoric anticipation.


END OF THE CHAPTER

3 comments:

  1. Hello Curious Reader, hope you're doing well! Just want to see if you still plan to continue this story, or perhaps had to move sites again? Thank you for the chapters you've done so far!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hi, I'm responding late but I love this novel and seeing someone continue it is amazing, tnk🥺🥺

    ReplyDelete

Chapter 71

He imagined stripping Yi Gyeol of his clothes, pressing his lips to the traces left on that body. He had never been interested in men befo...