Eldest 182

182.

‘It’s finally come.’

Honestly, I didn’t expect it to come this soon.

Killian quickly masked his agitation and managed a smile for Theodore.

“Shall we go to my reception room, then?”

“We don’t have the leisure for a relaxed cup of tea, Your Highness.”

Theodore’s gaze was piercing as he spoke.

“Follow me.”

He leveled a stare at Killian, his face so like Bellady’s that Killian’s knees almost gave way.

Struggling to steady himself, Killian trailed after Theodore.

The place Theodore chose was an isolated corridor near the council chamber.

There, using a ruby from his pocket, Theodore cast a powerful soundproofing spell before speaking first.

“What exactly did you do with my daughter last night?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Killian feigned ignorance.

At that, Theodore’s crimson eyes flared as he fixed Killian with a burning glare.

“Don’t pretend, I saw it all myself.”

The truth was, upon hearing the maids whisper that “Neshia seemed a little different today,” Theodore had finished his work and headed up to the second floor.

And so, inevitably, he had witnessed that scene.

“In Neshia’s room, apart from that fox-like spirit I’ve seen before, there were other unnatural presences. Particularly, the one resembling my late wife… You owe me a thorough explanation.”

Killian sighed inwardly.

‘So he saw everything, after all.’

Before summoning Dohemia’s spirit, with Bellady disoriented, Killian had quietly called on his affinity with nature.

To prevent word of the disturbance from spreading, he had subtly hindered the perception of anyone who tried to approach the second floor.

This method was different from magic—far subtler and more convincing. But its shortcoming was that it failed against those with extraordinary senses.

‘I’d expected it wouldn’t work on the Duke of Aeltern.’

He had debated telling Bellady, but in the end remained silent. He didn’t want to add to the burdens of a girl already so weary.

‘Why is it that my uneasy premonitions are never wrong?’

“If you saw it with your own eyes, I suppose there’s no use denying it.”

Killian admitted truthfully.

“First of all, what you saw was indeed the late Duchess. It was the spirit’s power that temporarily summoned her soul.”

“My wife, summoned back from the dead? That’s preposterous!”

“Spirit magic is nothing less than a ‘miracle’ beyond human comprehension. Summoning the soul of the dead is not impossible.”

“Then why did you call on my wife’s soul?”

“Did you not hear her conversation with Bellady?”

At Killian’s question, Theodore’s mouth snapped shut.

The truth was, he had heard, at least in part, the conversation between Bellady and Dohemia.

The barely restrained grief in his daughter’s voice, and his wife’s tearful apologies—just the sound of them had been overwhelming.

Unable to bear intruding, he’d lingered at the threshold, then left in silence.

—I hate you. Whatever your reasons, you ruined my childhood… you destroyed my world. I loathe you, and I can never forgive you!

Bellady’s anguished cry lingered in his mind.

That was not merely a wail directed at Dohemia alone.

On the carriage ride together, Theodore had been weighed down by guilt, regret, and helpless sorrow, burning within him.

He had not dared express these feelings, for fear of hurting Bellady even further.

‘To have a father as undeserving as me…’

What have I done to that good child?

Unable to hide his distress, Theodore covered his face with a hand.

Killian watched him silently, mulling over his words before he finally spoke.

“Please, watch over Bellady closely.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I cannot say for certain, but… the spirits’ anger is directed at Bellady.”

He recalled Aining’s anxious warning from earlier that morning.

—The other spirits have been far too quiet lately! Just days ago, they were furious because Bellady knew too much!

—And what does that mean?

—Umm… I’m not sure, but I think they’re plotting to teach her a lesson!

According to Aining, the other spirits were no longer sharing information with Aining, Shennon, or Taudin.

After all, everyone knew those three now sided with Bellady.

‘Teach her a lesson, they said.’

Killian had studied spirits more than anyone, but their true motives remained as unfathomable as ever.

After all, wasn’t it Pherdel Allerman Deckerdil and Caspar Agla who had ruined the timeline with their regression?

‘Why is it only the virtuous, upright Bellady who pays for it all?’

Theodore, unaware of Killian’s thoughts, raised an eyebrow in response.

“Anger of the spirits?”

“I cannot say more. Bellady will have to explain in her own words. Still… the spirits may do her harm. I’ll warn her separately as well, but please, Your Grace, keep a close eye on her.”

The ambiguity of Killian’s words reminded Theodore of the dread he’d felt during the hunting tournament—the despair of those few hours when Bellady was missing, and the resolve he’d made then.

“You needn’t say it. I would stake my very life to protect her.”

“I’m truly glad to hear that.”

Killian, answering thus, seemed to heave a genuine sigh of relief.

Somehow, that visible relief grated on Theodore, who pressed still more sharply,

“And so—why did you use spirit power to summon my wife? Why let Bellady see her? You haven’t stated your actual intent.”

“That, too, is difficult to explain. I regret to say, you will have to hear it from Bellady herself.”

“Another thing to hear from her?”

To that, Killian merely offered a mild smile. That slippery display made Theodore’s jaw stiffen.

“So you’ll just hide behind my daughter, is that it?”

“Her wishes are more important to me than anything.”

“You’re remarkably glib with your excuses.”

“If it sounds that way to you, it must mean my sincerity is coming through.”

Theodore clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Just answer me this much. That matter… Bellady meeting Dohemia—it won’t hurt her, will it?”

To this, at least, Killian could answer.

His tone was graver than ever as he replied,

“Yes. It was something Bellady needed, if she was to move past her wounds.”

“Then that’s enough.”

If it was a choice she made for her own sake, so be it.

After all, who was he to question what Bellady did for herself? He’d forfeited even the right to ask.

Theodore offered a brief farewell to Killian, then left first.

‘But these spirits…’

That word lodged in his throat, a splinter he could not shake.

---

“AAAAARRRGH!”

Pherdel rampaged through their temporary hideout, destroying everything in sight.

“How dare they! How dare they treat the future master of this Empire like this?! I’ll kill every last one of them!”

Listening to lines fit for a third-rate villain, Caspar clutched at his hair in frustration.

There was a time he might have cowered at such a scene, but only when his own prospects were secure.

Now, both Pherdel and Caspar were in the same desperate predicament. With his own situation so dire, Pherdel’s violent display barely registered.

‘Damn it!’

Caspar tried once more to open the door to the secret study. Only by reaching it could he retrieve the hidden mirror.

But no matter how carefully he drew the proper teleportation runes, the entrance would not open.

Caspar cursed silently.

‘Did Father change the runes on the entrance?!’

If so, there must have been a secret known only to the true heirs—knowledge passed down only to heads of the house.

Clearly, he should have secured the position of heir before the regression.

If only he hadn’t been duped by Pherdel, defied the Duke of Agla, and hastily raised an army!

‘Then at least I would have managed to become head of the house before all this…’

How fickle the human heart is.

When he’d used his future knowledge to revive the South and Agla, he’d been wildly grateful to Pherdel for revealing the secret of regression.

But now, with everything changed, that supposed boon was nothing but a burdensome curse.

If not for the bond between their lives created by regression, Caspar would have left Pherdel to rot and die in a dungeon, uncaring.

‘Just escaping the capital on my own was hard enough—because I tried to save that bastard, I lost all the henchmen I’d painstakingly raised!’

Think of all the money sunk into them! How could he ever recoup those losses?

Just recalling it all made his eyes sting with unshed blood.

‘Bellady Aeltern…’

His resentment only deepened.

She was, in the end, the root of all these problems. No doubt, it was Bellady Aeltern who manipulated Sion as well.

What did she offer or whisper to them, that even family—whom he’d once trusted completely—turned on him like this?

‘Could she possibly know about the regression? About the mirror? Even its location?’

Perhaps she’d spurred her father to alter the entrance to the secret study.

She knew the mirror was hidden there, after all.

‘Does she know that Pherdel Allerman Deckerdil’s life is bound to mine?’

Bellady Aeltern seemed to know everything about his situation while he knew nothing of hers.

When had the gulf in information become so wide?

If he stayed idle, even this temporary refuge in the Forest of Monsters would soon be exposed.

He had to secure the mirror and carry out the regression as soon as possible.

His anxiety mounting, he was pacing in agitation when a bellow thundered through the hiding place.

“Caspar Agla!”

He might secretly despise Pherdel, but with their long years of rivalry and subservience, Caspar’s response was instinctively servile.

“Y-yes, you called?”

“You’ve kept the mirror safe, haven’t you?!”

“Of course. Look for yourself.”

Caspar hurriedly flipped open a sturdy box on the floor.

Inside, various gems and ornaments were neatly arranged.

“I’ve even gathered every ‘spirit treasure’ we’ll need for the regression ritual.”

Pherdel’s eyes gleamed as he stared at the treasures.

Caspar swallowed nervously, perspiration beading on his brow.

‘Truth is, I only managed to assemble these thanks to the money Sion gave me.’