“Empress,” Richard called quietly.
“I know. Princess Yuliana has obviously pulled some tricks,” Cecile replied with a nod.
“Yes, but I believe this to be a little different from before. She seems to be attempting to cast a slightly more powerful hypnosis.”
“Then, why bother with this childish play instead of bewitching them all at once?” Cecile asked curiously. It seemed to be a roundabout manner to achieve her goal.
“This is probably a kindling. Like lightning a small fire before making it bigger, so to speak,” Richard explained. He glanced at the people clapping with fervor, and clicked his tongue, while Cecile waited for him to continue. “The princess’s power is a form of hypnosis. Enchantments cast on a blank state result in a weak and easily broken spell. It’s difficult to be zealous about something without substance, isn’t it? However, if the enchantment is founded upon actions or behaviors that can be construed as impressive… a much stronger hypnosis can be cast.”
‘So, that’s how it is.’ Thanks to the mage lord’s generous explanation, Cecile was able to grasp the situation. Casinos stroke the primitive desires in humans and easily stirred up emotions. The added extravagance of their opening bids also weakened the rationality of the crowd. This meant that the onlookers were primed for Yuliana’s enchantments.
Seeing the empress fall silent, Richard said, “Now you understand, right? Just leave it to me, and—”
“Princess Yuliana.” Cecile cleaning ignored the mage lord’s whispers and began to address the princess. “I was unaware you harbored such amazing ideas. Listening to you, it seems I have much to learn from you.”
Yuliana narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Cecile’s words. She knew the empress was unaffected by her powers, so why was she uttering drivel like the rest of them?
“Pearls of wisdom must be worth their weight in gold,” Cecile continued indifferently. She placed the scepter in her hand onto the game table. Even those who were entranced reacted with surprise. “I am going to raise the stakes for this game a little more, for your sake.”
Yuliana’s eyes began to shake.
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Far away in the center of Ern, the capital city of the dukedom of Etia, stood the grand duke’s castle. Deep in the bowels of the basement of this historically rich fortress, the Grand Duke Farus stood observing a test tube. Within it was a bright red blood-like substance that squirmed and crawled as if it was alive.
“I don’t need this anymore. Not since the real thing is coming,” Farus muttered. He tossed the tube haphazardly to the ground. It smashed on impact and when the blood was exposed to air it began to thrash and squirm, until it darkened in color and exploded with a ‘pop!’
The Grand Duke clicked his tongue as he irritably wiped the blood splatter off his face, before turning to the horrifying scene behind him. There was a pile of dozens of recently deceased bodies scattered about. Devoid of any sympathy, the grand duke gazed at the scene with deep contempt.
“Utter trash. How is it that they failed to create anything that surpasses Estian after 20 years?” He chewed on his lip. Estian would arrive soon, and this fact simultaneously struck fear in his heart and made him tremble with ecstasy. “Estian… I wonder if you knew just how much effort we invested in creating you.”
The grand duke’s tone was oddly intimate for someone calling the name of the empire’s ruler. He laughed while reminiscing fondly on that historic day, when representatives from dozens of kingdoms and dukedoms, including the empire, had gathered. There were no records of the discussion and promises exchanged on that day, nor was it necessary—Estian’s existence served as proof of their results. He was both the sole specimen to survive and the only successful experiment.
He turned to look at the portrait hung in the corner of the basement, depicting a quiet, introverted-looking boy with dark hair. It was a portrait of Estian in his youth. The memory of the young boy’s appearance as he was pushed into the laboratory remained fresh in his mind. Estian’s face was filled with fear, and he’d clung and begged for mercy in tears. Now, that powerless boy had risen to emperor and was marching to raze down the grand duke’s lands.
Farus stepped over the corpses strewn on the floor, and walked deeper into the basement until he reached what looked to be a mass of black miasma. It was writhing, and floating amidst it were body parts resembling eyes, nose, and ears, which appeared to flicker in and out of existence. The closer he got, the more violently the miasma writhed. A strange noise radiated from it.
“Yes, you must have noticed too. Estian is coming,” the grand duke remarked. “You are far lacking in ability, but at least you look identical to him.”
Had it understood his words? The black miasma blasted a bizarre noise. Estian had managed to regain his human form with the help of Earl Revenan, but how long would that last? Farus missed the emperor’s old appearance—the way he distorted and warped until he was power itself.
“It must be extremely exhausting maintaining a human body. Come hither quickly, Estian,” the grand duke grinned, “I shall restore your original form to you.”
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