In a dark, smelly, rat-infested cell, a woman with wrinkled skin was curled in a cold, unpadded bed with only a thin old blanket to keep her warm. A tinge of weariness marked the fold of her pale face, her breathing heavy. There were no signs of torture on her body, yet she looked no less miserable than those groaning in misery in the other cells. After all, such a dreary environment was no place for a woman her age.
The old woman covered her ears in an attempt to block out the sound of agony that echoed throughout the long hallway. But no matter how much she pressed on her ears, the horrendous noise kept ringing directly in her head.
The old woman groaned. It felt like she was spiraling into madness.
But suddenly, there was dead silence.
The old woman removed her hands from her ears. Her brows furrowed. Even the rats annoying squeaks were mysteriously hushed.
The old woman sat up, causing a ruffling sound that echoed within the enclosed space. She couldn't see anything in the dark. And now that the old woman couldn't hear anything as well, she felt alone and became scared.
A dark foreboding came over her.
The sound of footsteps broke the deafening silence. Like the rhythmic beating of a drum, it grew louder and louder and louder until it abruptly stopped. In the ensuing stillness, the synchronized thump of the prisoners' hearts filled the air, heightening the anxiety.
They heard the rustling of keys followed by the loud noise of the thick metal door that separated them from the rest of civilization, opened. A man in uniform entered carrying a mana lamp that illuminated his path, blinding the prisoners who were in constant darkness. Behind the first man came four other men, two of whom were in a military uniform like the first one. They both were carrying mana lamps as well.
The remaining two sported expensive clothing different from the three. From the way they looked and the air of dominance that surrounds them, it's apparent that they are the leader of the group.
The prisoners fled to the corners of their cell, away from the reach of the mana lamp, afraid. But today seemed to be their luck, for the men simply passed by their cells one after the other.
The soldier leading the group stopped in front of one particular cell, opened the cell door, and respectfully stepped aside to let the heads of the group enter.
"I hope our hospitality was to your liking, Lady Joan," said a deep baritone voice.
Lady Joan sat erect, her deathly face unusually calm despite the situation—the last of her druidic pride did not wish to be trampled upon.
A soldier entered the cell and placed the two folding chairs he was carrying on the ground for the men to sit on.
Prince Aleric glanced at Grand Duke Rasmus. This famed grand duke is someone he could not quite figure out. Given how protective he is of his daughter, Prince Aleric expected the grand duke to interrogate him about their relationship. But though he had been the constant subject of the grand duke's disgust and murderous glare, the grand duke never once asked.
Today, Prince Aleric came especially to make a request that he be allowed to interrogate Lady Joan. He was fully prepared to argue with the grand duke the moment he dismissed his request. To his surprise, he did not decline his request and instead took him to this deep underground prison—which Vernon, who boasts of the capability of his men's intelligence, did not catch even a tiny whiff of.
For Grand Duke Rasmus to casually reveal this place to him, what could his intention be?
They were about to begin their interrogation when they heard hurried footsteps running down the stairs.
A weary-looking Elias appeared in front of Lady Joan's cell. His eyes were red with large bags under them, indicating his lack of sleep.
Worked has piled up in the grand duke's desk after it had been neglected for several days—some of which could no longer be delayed—like the matter of the court.
The grand duke's preoccupation with Ingrid's matter allowed the imperial court to bully the House of Lennox unopposed.
Their businesses all over the empire were targeted. Several nobles began withdrawing their investments. Several shops they owned were accused of disregarding safety issues and the like, while their stewards were charged with the most absurd crimes and were detained. Letters from their relatives, distant or close, bombarded the grand duke's office—even they weren't spared the bullying of those who profited from the emperor's and his brother's feud.
Those palace leeches are set on isolating the grand duke.
The House of Lennox's silence in the face of their atrocity emboldened them to commit such atrocities. They likely believed the Grand Duke's silence stemmed from helplessness and fear. Otherwise, why would a leader as cowardly as the emperor make such a bold move?
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Not to mention the empress. She must've already recovered from her illness and is spreading her poison on the emperor's ears again, adding more fuel to the fire.
Elias as the grand duke's trusted right hand, had to give up sleep in order to solve the most pressing matters. Unfortunately, he only has a pair of hands, and they can only do so much.
How Elias wished he could drag the grand duke back to his office right now. But he understood that Ingrid's situation is most important, so he did not grumble as much as he usually does.
However, at the moment, they badly needed the grand duke's strength.
"My Lord, a distress letter arrived this morning," said Elias with a grim expression. "Giants, about ten of them, are attacking the western wall!"
The air in the damp cell thickened.
Grand Duke Rasmus's face was clouded with gloom. With a contorted face he glanced at Lady Joan and then at Elias.
The White Tiger Army, seasoned veterans in fighting giants, is more than capable of defeating those large, pig-brained creatures. While a battle against ten simultaneously would be challenging, Grand Duke Rasmus is confident of their victory. But such a victory will cost more lives than if he were there.
On the other hand, they could no longer delay Lady Joan's interrogation. The druid clan has been pressing for Lady Joan's return to the Hayat, demanding a trial under their law. But after the betrayal of one of their elders, he no longer trusts those bastards.
If worse comes to worse, he'll just flatten their forest and wipe them all out.
Seeing the grand duke's predicament Prince Aleric offered, "How about I lend you ten of my subordinates? Though they have not fought giants before, they are seasoned soldiers, each with the strength of a thousand."
Elias and Grand Duke Rasmus exchanged skeptical glances. Prince Aleric spoke as if men of such strength were commonplace, leaving them unsure if he was truthful or merely boasting.
Prince Aleric ignored their misgiving and fished out a plain black slab tied with a golden tassel from his pocket. "Give this to Vernon and he'll understand. Also take Iris with you. She's stronger than the ten."
Elias stared at the plain black slab. People commonly carve symbols on stones to make emblems as identification. But the prince actually gave him a plain slab with nothing on it but a hole for the tassel. Is this a joke?
"I think time is of an essence here, Mr. Assistant," Prince Aleric reminded him.
"Go," commanded the grand duke, "And bring the Eru with you."
Elias no longer hesitated and grabbed the plain black slab from the prince's hand. Eru is a bird—a Nightfall Falcon, to be exact. A bird, hailed in the continent as the fastest, with a speed of fifty miles per second. Therefore, even if things go south, it wouldn't be too late to ask for the grand duke's aid.
Now that the urgent matter was somewhat solved, they turned their attention back to the haggard-looking old woman.
"Now where were we?" Grand Duke Rasmus folded his arms together.
"It's useless, Grand Duke. Even if you kill me today, you will never get any information out of my mouth."
Grand Duke Rasmus did not respond. He waved his hand, and a soldier with a gloved hand entered. Since druids can mess with other people's memory through touch, it is important not to have any sort of skin contact with her.
A clear bottle of liquid was in the soldier's hand. He seized Lady Joan's left shoulder, forcing her down and ripping her clothes to expose her wrinkled skin. Her feeble resistance was insignificant to him. Without hesitation, he poured the liquid onto her skin.
A chilling coldness spread across the skin of Lady Joan's back as the liquid touched it. Pain was absent, yet a stark dread filled her eyes.
Slowly, lines of ink unfurled on her left shoulder, revealing an intricately drawn scale. One pan held the weight of the world—the other, humanity, in perfect equilibrium.
Prince Aleric's brow furrowed when he saw the tattoo. He had an inkling that he'd seen that tattoo before, but he couldn't quite remember where.
On the other hand, Grand Duke Rasmus was devastated. He hoped he was wrong. Then he would feel less guilty about his wife's death.
Grand Duke Rasmus' eyes flamed with anger. He thought of grabbing Lady Joan by the neck and crushing it with his own hands. But he controlled himself. Death is too simple of a punishment for her.
"So you are one of them." Grand Duke Rasmus gritted his teeth.
To think that the woman his wife trusted was actually among those who wanted to kill her! Could it be that Duchess Aria's madness was inflicted by Lady Joan as well?
So, all those times Lady Joan supposedly cured the duchess, she was actually exacerbating her condition?
But in the end, the fault was all his. Lady Joan's seemingly innocent background and kind image prevented him from suspecting her true intentions. Had it not been for Prince Aleric, who saw right through her, he would have lost another person he treasured without knowing the cause.
"It doesn't matter what you know, Grand Duke. It is our job to keep the balance of the world, and your daughter, much like your wife, is threatening the balance. People like her are an abomination. Thus, she must die!" said Lady Joan calmly as though she was talking about the weather.
Grand Duke Rasmus struggled to contain his rage, barely restraining himself from attacking the old woman.
"Amalgam's are anomalies of nature. They are born with faces capable of making every man in the world bow at their feet. Their blood is akin to a fountain of youth that stops them from aging. They live very long lives, and those whom they willingly give their blood to get to share that long life with them," Lady Joan continued. She spoke like an old druid passing on wisdom to the young.
"Because of that, many covet them, causing wars and death throughout the continent. That is why we, the keepers of balance, decided to wipe out that abominable clan several hundred years ago. But like a weed, they kept springing up again and again, and it is our job to get rid of every new one that sprouts."
Lady Joan sighed as though regretful. "But Amalgams are quite hard to kill. Because of the special attribute of their blood, even their severed heads can regrow. However, there are two ways to kill an Amalgam. One is to wait until they are old when their ability has weakened. Or, weaken their ability by weakening their will."
"And why are you telling us this?" asked Prince Aleric while casually leaning on his chair.
"Nothing your highness. Just take it as a dying woman's nonsensical rumbling," Lady Joan responded with a smile. "I only wished to show the grand duke that his efforts are futile. It took me six years, but her memory is finally unsealed. With those misery-riddled memories with her, even if we don't do anything, she will die on her own."
Her words were devoid of emotion, as though she were merely describing a worthless pebble discarded by the roadside.
Grand Duke Rasmus grabbed Lady Joan by the cuff of her neck. "What do you mean?"
"Amalgam's are like delicate flowers. They only thrive in the best of the environment, but place them under strong storms and harsh sunlight and they will slowly wilt..."