Wrong Choice
"You son of a bitch!"
Screaming like a madman, I shot upward as if being dragged out from the underworld.
Pain and confusion, doubt and rage—
all of it poured into my head, mixing together like trash in a dump.
"Uaaaahhh!"
As I screamed until my throat burned—
"Your Highness! Your Highness, get a hold of yourself!"
"You damned disciple! Open your eyes!"
The two of them slapped my cheeks and grabbed my collar, shaking me hard.
The impact jolted me back.
"—!"
I realized I had barely made it back up onto the platform from below.
But the scene in my mind didn't disappear. It kept replaying.
—Don't bother me, you garbage.
The insane emperor's voice was the final straw.
I gagged, overwhelmed by Gilroshan's memories.
But the stinging pain in my cheeks eventually brought me back.
"Stop, stop hitting me! I'm fine now!"
How long are you planning to slap me?!
I shoved away Kals and Tyrbaen's arms and sat up.
"Are you all right?"
"I said I'm fine."
But in truth, my head was still a wreck.
...The Emperor of Vareshan.
Was it really that bastard who crippled his own son's magic?
I hadn't dismissed the possibility before.
Considering the emperor's volatile temperament and the royal family's bloodhound-like brutality,
it wasn't out of the question.
But it was true?
I shook my head blankly, still in shock.
The pain was gone, but I felt nauseous.
"I think I'm going to throw up."
Seeing that I wasn't recovering, Kals and Tyrbaen exchanged glances, then looked at me with grave expressions.
"Your Highness, what did you see down there? I've served you since you were a child, but I've never heard you scream like that before."
"Yes, speak. What kind of illusion could turn a man who stays calm even in enemy territory into a raving lunatic?"
Kals and Tyrbaen both frowned deeply.
...What kind of illusion did I see?
As I blinked slowly, I suddenly realized something.
There was something strange about my thoughts just now.
Wait. Why did I take that illusion as truth so naturally?
As Tyrbaen said, it was just that—an illusion.
A phantom born from this lair's magic.
Meaning it was all a lie.
That the third imperial prince defeated the crown prince in a Decachess duel?
That's absurd.
If that were true, everyone in the palace would have known.
And right now, two palace retainers were standing before me, eyes wide open.
Verification was easy.
"Kals, by any chance—"
"Yes, Your Highness?"
...There's no way, but still.
"Have you ever heard anyone say I beat Prince Lukashan in Decachess? That I actually challenged the crown prince myself?"
Even saying it aloud felt ridiculous.
Prince Lukashan—the First Prince—was one of the most brilliant talents in the imperial family.
One of those rare genius mages who reached seven stars in his early twenties.
Though his end wasn't great, across the entire
So the idea that Gilroshan had beaten Lukashan in Decachess was utterly impossible.
Yet—
"Ah, of course I remember! How could I ever forget that?"
...Huh?
"You remember it?"
"Of course! Hmm, let's see... that was right after we graduated from the juvenile palace, wasn't it? You were just about to turn thirteen, and about to form a tutelage bond with Sir Sui."
"...!"
My jaw dropped.
Impossible!
"I—I challenged the crown prince to Decachess? Really? For real?"
"What do you mean 'really'? Oh yes, it was a truly splendid match! I even watched it with my father!"
...You've got to be kidding me.
So it wasn't an illusion?
Completely oblivious to my shock, Kals continued excitedly.
"His Highness the Crown Prince had the upper hand at first, but you quickly turned the tables! You toyed with him the whole time! Ah—please forget that disrespectful remark. Anyway, do you remember the Countess Vermio's daughter and the Baroness Miblen's daughter?"
I don't know, man.
I said, I don't know!
"They were fighting over who got to present you the victory bouquet! I had to step in to stop them—hah!"
"..."
Kals looked positively delighted reminiscing about Gilroshan's glory days—
not a hint of deceit in his voice.
And Tyrbaen drove the final nail.
"I've heard that story as well."
"Y-you too, Master?"
"Yes. It was quite famous at the time. Hmph. I was rather nervous, knowing such a prodigy was to become my disciple..."
"And?"
"But the boy I met turned out to be a lazy delinquent."
Unlike Kals, the little witch chuckled bitterly.
"Well, you've made me proud now, so it's fine, you damned disciple!"
Ignoring her laughter, I held my forehead blankly.
What the hell... So that wasn't just an illusion?
Everything fit together.
If I matched their accounts—
The young Gilroshan, fresh from the juvenile palace, was incredibly gifted.
Gifted enough to challenge and defeat the first prince—the heir apparent—in Decachess.
But that enraged the mad emperor.
And then, absurdly—
The emperor appeared in the dead of night and sealed his son's heart with a magic curse...
That lunatic.
If it was a joke, it was a sick one.
But this—this was Gilroshan's true past.
I shivered.
"Don't bother me"? That's your damned reason?
...No matter how many times I thought about it, I couldn't believe it.
It was never in the game's original storyline,
so I had no way to confirm it—and that only deepened my bewilderment.
But when I thought back, something had felt off.
The emperor's behavior really was strange.
He'd acted like he'd already decided the conclusion before even appearing.
There had to be something more behind it.
But what?
"..."
After a moment of thought, I turned to Kals.
And I asked him one question.
"When I beat my brother in Decachess, do you remember how Her Majesty the Empress reacted?"
Mirfisha Carlo di Valt.
The Empress of the Empire was the woman who had given birth to Gilroshan.
"Her Majesty the Empress…"
Recalling old memories, Kals nodded.
"She sent Your Highness flowers to congratulate you. I remember they were simple, purple blossoms."
"Really? You don't recall what kind?"
"I'm afraid not…"
It had been eight years ago.
It was no wonder Kals couldn't remember clearly.
But I nodded slowly.
Purple flowers.
No matter what kind they were, that color didn't have a particularly good meaning.
From the looks on their faces, Kals and the witch Tyrbaen had no idea.
Among imperial noblewomen, purple flowers are rarely ever gifted.
They were considered ominous—symbols of "farewell."
I remembered this well because it was tied to a related quest.
All right. Once I return to the empire, I'll have to start digging from there.
Having sorted my thoughts, I rose to my feet.
My head, which had felt like a muddy swamp, was finally a little clearer.
And more importantly—
***
[Hidden Unique Trait: "Magic Immunity" has been removed.]
[You have successfully learned the combined skill "Intermediate Spirit Magic" from the skill tome "Intermediate Spirit Magic Theory."]
Finally, the process was complete.
After unbearable pain that felt like my heart would burst,
I had succeeded in channeling spirit magic into my mana heart.
A strange power pulsed within my chest.
Magic power…
It was completely different from the internal energy I had drawn from my dantian when practicing martial sword techniques.
There was no reason to wait any longer.
I began to move it at once.
***
[Blessing Magic: Land of Judgment]
Chzzzzzzzzz...
My magic activated the Inquisitor's skill,
and a calm wave spread beneath my feet.
Unlike before—when I couldn't even start it and the magic fizzled out—this time was completely different.
"…?"
Tyrbaen didn't understand what was happening at first.
She only blinked in confusion, watching the unfamiliar flow of mana emanating from me.
The "Land of Judgment" spell primarily enhanced the vitality of allies—
"Your Highness! You did it! Congratulations! Thank the heavens!"
Kals, who had been the first to receive the effect, threw his arms into the air and jumped around in excitement.
Then the witch's eyes widened.
"You—you…!"
Realization dawned, and her eyes glistened with tears.
"..."
I said nothing, only gave a slow nod.
That alone was enough.
***
"It worked! It really worked!"
She threw herself at me.
"You can finally use magic again! You're not a wastrel anymore!"
The days of watching her useless disciple were over.
From now on, she would witness a disciple who would grow at an unbelievable pace.
In my arms, Tyrbaen sobbed, tears and snot flowing freely.
"Thank goodness… thank goodness…! For your magic to return, even now—it must be the grace of Quatras!"
For a witch of the Five-Colored Spire, who valued nothing but personal strength,
to invoke a god in gratitude—it spoke volumes of her emotion.
The two of them ended up congratulating each other in a heart-warming scene.
"Sir Sui, you've really worked hard for this."
Kals slyly pulled the little witch away and patted her head.
"Sir Silion, you too! We've both suffered so much for this, sob sob sob…"
And just like that, Tyrbaen tossed her "cold witch" act straight into the trash bin.
I was the one who regained magic—so why were they more moved than me?
Honestly, these two were ridiculous.
"Hey, you two? Hate to pour cold water on the moment, but the lair's not done yet."
Checking my reduced mana reserves, I gestured deeper inside.
"Let's go meet the hatchling."
***
"Your Highness, is this really a dragon egg?"
"Yeah."
"…Doesn't look like one to me."
"It is, idiot. You know it too, Master, right?"
"I do. But I'll admit, it's a little surprising. It's my first time seeing one in person."
Kals still looked doubtful, while Tyrbaen quietly examined it.
The egg I held in my hand.
After crossing the Sea of Blazing Flames,
we had entered the very heart of the lair.
In that vast cavern, surrounded by darkness,
stood a rocky spire—and at its summit were dragon eggs.
Kals' expression said it all: sheer bewilderment.
"How can they be so small? Dragons are bigger than houses."
He was right.
Each dragon egg was only about the size of a quail egg.
That was why the three eggs could sit neatly side by side
at the narrow peak where we were barely clinging for balance.
"Reptiles are born small and grow as they shed their skin, idiot. Basic biology."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. And it's also common knowledge that you can only take one of the three."
"…Was my face that obvious?"
He must have been thinking, Why not take all three and raise them together?
That was exactly the look on Kals' face.
Tyrbaen answered his unspoken question.
"Young dragons sense nearby threats before hatching. They even view their own kind as potential danger.
That's why none of them are hatching right now."
A precise explanation.
And—
There's another reason too.
Trying to keep more than one hatchling triggers a special event.
Because of that, I had to choose exactly one of the three eggs.
This is actually kind of nerve-racking.
The hatchling's nature and element are completely random.
No one can predict what kind of dragon will emerge.
Taking a deep breath—
"Phew."
—then came the sacred ritual.
"RNG-skill game!"
Red Dragon, let's go!
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