Ivan grabbed his head and opened his eyes. Consciousness emerged hazily with a tingling headache.
It felt like the aftermath of a heavy drinking night, yet surprisingly, Ivan rarely drank in this era. Hence, he never experienced hangovers.
Rising from the bed, he questioned, “What…?”
Velvet blanket? Bed?
Ivan’s thoughts sank rapidly. He wasn’t someone who could get up from such a bed; he only slept on the office sofa. (Enrique, witnessing this, was visibly irritated.)
Slowly, he rose, surveying his surroundings with practiced caution, a habit ingrained through extensive training.
In unfamiliar surroundings, confusion often led to mistakes. Maintaining composure, Ivan pondered how he ended up in this place.
“….”
Luxurious gilded fabric wallpaper, splendid tapestries hanging on the walls, a massive wooden table, and scattered garments on the floor.
A red velvet carpet beneath and a bed with a soft velvet blanket at the end.
And there, lying down, a silhouette.
A woman. Hunched at around 160cm. The body seemed delicate. Wrapped in a blanket, gathering more information proved challenging.
“Hmm.”
He assessed his condition. Only wearing a bare top and light cotton pants, nearly half-naked.
Upon inspection, it didn’t seem ‘severe.’ A mix of relief and suspicion lingered.
But judging by the overall situation,
Succubus.
Yes, those mosquito-like beings delving into dreams, forcing undesired desires, sucking up magical energy and vitality.
It had to be them. It was a common occurrence. Ivan had encountered those mosquitoes several times during the operation escorting the hero party near the demon king’s territory.
Where did he encounter them? Memories of last night were faint. Surely…
“Ugh….”
The headache attacked once again, a type clearly disturbing his memory. Ivan shook his head, slowly rising with caution, reaching for his coat.
As his hand entered the fallen coat sleeve, a clink. He found a dagger hilt and a water flask.
Dreams are illusions based on reality. Naturally, belongings and regular routines carried in daily life reflected in dreams.
In terms of regularity and preparedness, few surpassed Ivan.
Silently drawing the knife from the sleeve onto his forearm, he reminded himself not to touch the woman lying on the bed. In succubus-created dreams, potential traps were unpredictable.
However, one of the two definite methods to awaken from a succubus dream could be attempted right now.
Acting contrary to the intended design of the dream to create a shock, or using a purification spell by a priest.
With no priest by his sleeping side, he opted for the first method.
– Slicing.
A deep cut on his forearm accompanied by a chilling pain. He quickly surveyed, but there were no signs of the dream crumbling.
It’s fine. Trained in sensory desensitization, a cut on his forearm might not be a sufficient shock to wake him from the succubus dream.
Then, he could try another method.
“Sigh….”
Although he vowed not to use it on himself again.
Was it fifteen years ago? Memories of being bound in the duty room, receiving ‘treatment’ against his will when a spear pierced his abdomen.
Staring at the water flask with a disgusted look, Ivan slowly… very cautiously tilted it.
A viscous, horrifying red liquid dripped and flowed. Blood poured down his slashed forearm.
Upon contact, a sound of sizzling accompanied the rapid closure of the wound. There were no groans or sighs. His breathing remained steady.
But a lightning-like pain jolted his head. Familiar, deeply buried pain from the past surged.
The sensation of a healing potion. (Or so he convinced himself.)
Exhaling a short breath, he stood the potion upright and sealed the cap again.
With delicate and cautious gestures, akin to sealing an accursed ancient demon within, the firmly sealed healing potion transformed from a conceptual viscous liquid embodying hellish evil back into an essential protective gear. He tucked the potion into his sleeve and got dressed.
“…?”
Even witnessing such a scene, the dream doesn’t break.
Looking at the dagger again and pondering whether to slice his forearm, a small hypothesis crossed Ivan’s mind.
If it’s not a dream…?
Leaning against the massive sofa near the table, Ivan aimed the dagger at the woman lying on the velvet bed, lost in thought.
Who is this woman, where is this place, and why am I here?
What happened yesterday? I definitely searched the school for the secret room of the academy…
Chapter 58: Saint Jan’s University and the Secret Room
If we rewind for a moment and look at the situation right after rescuing the hero party’s children in Frechenkaya:
Elizaveta finally declined the throne.
“I cannot establish the royal authority until the nation’s turmoil is rectified.”
“How dare I claim the throne when the regent has worked so hard to correct things.”
After declaring her intent to completely uproot the ‘unknown external threat’ deeply embedded within the royal family, she generously released state funds to the populace affected by the terrorist attacks.
An essential point here is that she released the ‘state funds,’ not the personal wealth of the princess.
In other words, the nobles could all know that the royal treasury entered her control in a manner that everyone could see.
“The Foreign Minister has been taken hostage by the scoundrels.”
These scoundrels surprisingly kidnapped a nation’s crown prince and dismantled the monarchy in this unprecedented major incident. Naturally, the intelligence command, which should have prevented such events in advance, found itself in a difficult situation.
“As one with royal blood, feeling great responsibility for this situation, I will relinquish all authority within the palace.”
The princess, who also served as the head of the intelligence command, resolved the issue by lamenting her failure to protect her own aura and stepping down from her position.
“May the goddess bless Krasilov. From now on, the royal family no longer holds secular power. Royal blood will only serve as a symbol of national unity, becoming a lighthouse to overcome national crises.”
All those who succeeded the royal bloodline now come down from direct rulers to part of the cultural symbol. In other words, it marks the beginning of a constitutional monarchy.
The proclamation of the Crown Prince’s inherited right within Krasilov became meaningless. The world is wicked? Who would blame anyone? Since it’s not a country directly ruled by the king, cast your stones at your own nobility.
The power the people gaze upon is now subservient to the nobility and the high administration.
However, all power comes from military, wealth, and information.
And in Frechenkaya, all three are attributed to one person.
“Your Highness, a toast.”
“The wine is quite harsh. Why are you toasting when the regent is still present, and I am no longer involved in state affairs?”
(TN: A regent is a person who rules a country when the king or queen is unable to rule)
“Hahaha! My apologies, Your Highness!”
Dmitri and Elizaveta laughed, sipping their tea. The summer afternoon in the East Court, after the rain, was filled with the warm fragrance of blooming flowers.
“How are the elders of the nobility?”
“They seem amusing, rolling their eyes. Trying to reach out to the military administration results in silence, so they must be frustrated even as nobles.”
“Let them face more challenges. Perhaps a brave soul among them will draw a sword.”
“It would be easier to handle them once they become more accustomed to hardship.”
All the Guard Corps near Frechenkaya had already pledged allegiance to the princess, and all information channels heading towards the military administration were under the control of the intelligence command.
The public announcement of the sudden disappearance of the Crown Prince and the strange tale of the ‘fake’ Crown Prince attempting rebellion only to collapse overnight were both suspicious.
The situation for the nobility was likely to become increasingly difficult, especially for those who had aligned with the Crown Prince faction.
Naturally, the nobles weren’t fools. Anyone could see that this event was merely the beginning of a massive cleansing operation.
Did the princess resign as the head of the intelligence command? Would she betray the carefully nurtured garden over more than a decade?
The princess gave up the Intelligence Command? From the days of the Cleansup Unit, the princess had been their leader. Sensible nobles didn’t believe such statements.
The fact that both the state treasury and the royal coffers were now tied to the East Court wasn’t a secret among the nobles. It was the princess’s intention.
At this point, when the current king firmly held the throne, the princess unilaterally declared a ‘constitutional monarchy’? It was evident that she had stripped away both the king’s authority and power.
So, there was only one thing the nobles had to do here.
“Your Highness, Viscount Yusuf requests an audience.”
The princess chuckled as she listened to the messenger.
“Viscount Yusuf is bold. Did the commander of the cavalry come himself?”
“They are also passionate, Your Highness. I will withdraw my insolence then.”
“Well, would it be appropriate for a subordinate to be absent from the military king’s court? Please have a seat and do not go anywhere.”
Elizaveta opened the door, smiling and nodding at the viscount who entered. If the lieutenant responsible for the practical affairs of the Intelligence Command saw the situation in Elizaveta’s office, the nobility could show a more forward-thinking attitude.
Therefore, Viscount Yusuf, the commander of the Frechenkaya Cavalry, knelt and deeply bowed as soon as he stepped into the office.
“Lift your head. It’s awkward to see such formality.”
Elizaveta waved her hand with a smiling face.
Krasilov had now become a constitutional monarchy, thanks to the schemes of Alexander.
Royal blood was now bound by the nation’s constitution.
However, the constitution and those who handled it were all submissive to one person.
Krasilov’s royal authority had become more pronounced than at any time since the reign of the previous king. The discontent of the people would all be directed at the nobility, and the fruits of authority belonged solely to the royal family. No, they would return to the princess.
Now, Frechenkaya was under Elizaveta’s control.
Although she would have to show leniency to everyone involved in this matter, she was thinking of one man.
The man who had achieved the greatest feat, her lumberjack. What should she do for him?
***
The prime contributor who made the princess the posthumous ruler (a somewhat biased assessment). At that point, Ivan Petrovich, who successfully prevented international conflicts by protecting the hero party members.
“Uncle, this really won’t do. I can understand stalking and even uncle’s way of speaking, but this is really not it. I can’t stay there right now!”
Holding a dagger and shaving foam, he was evading Ecdysis’s eyes, chasing him into the darkness.
With a perfect concealment state reminiscent of the Cleansup Unit, he calmly slipped out of Ecdysis’s sight.
