3. Deeper, Darker Crimson
2016.01.11.
A lush mass of green leaves filled her vision.
The moment her feet touched the ground, Ilsia collapsed as if she were about to fall. Her legs had lost all strength, and she couldn’t manage to stand upright.
So I really escaped. Ilsia murmured blankly.
“…I’m alive.”
“Master!”
As soon as Ilsia appeared between the dense foliage of the garden, the Dekarim who had been waiting began to emerge one by one and gathered around her.
Pressing her hand firmly against her pounding chest, Ilsia calmly issued an order.
“If we move around in such a large group, we might draw the attention of the guards. Everyone except Shukri, return to your original positions.”
At Ilsia’s command, the Dekarim dispersed in perfect order and disappeared. Only Shukri remained, grabbing Ilsia’s shoulder and speaking in a low voice.
“Are you alright? It’s because I failed to properly control my power…!”
“I’m fine, I’m fine…”
Ilsia forced herself to calm her startled heart.
She had narrowly escaped the surge of Hashar’s unholy power by a hair’s breadth. If Shukri had been even slightly slower in using his power, Ilsia would have been completely trapped in Hashar’s bedroom with no way out.
Hashar’s arrogance—believing that no one else could properly wield unholy power besides himself—had ironically allowed Ilsia to escape.
Shukri checked on Ilsia’s condition and spoke in a heavy voice.
“Hashar’s power is far too strong… From the very beginning, being affected by that energy caused my own power to waver severely. I almost couldn’t extract you, Master…”
He was filled with guilt and self-reproach. Ilsia noticed that Shukri’s eyes had turned red and were flickering. It was the result of pushing his unholy power beyond its limits to break through Hashar’s power.
His body was even trembling from the strain of overexertion. Ilsia gently placed her finger on his forehead.
“Don’t push yourself too hard, Shukri…”
Shukri exhaled sharply. Ilsia watched until his eyes slowly returned to their original olive green before removing her hand.
Through her light touch, he accepted the amplified energy and steadied himself.
“Thanks to the blood you gave me, Master, I’m overflowing with strength. I’m fine now.”
Without Shukri’s use of unholy power, Ilsia would not have been able to escape from Hashar’s bedroom. She murmured to herself briefly.
“That was really dangerous.”
The unholy power used by Hashar and Shukri was not called “unholy” for nothing—it truly carried an ominous meaning.
Unholy power is negative energy that erodes the user’s mental strength. Because of this, it cannot be used beyond what the user can handle, and that limit is determined by innate talent.
If one exceeds their limits, their eyes turn red and they enter a dangerous state. If they push further, they lose their sanity and become a madman.
In the end, unholy power is fundamentally contrary to the divine, so the principle is not to use it at all from the start.
Ilsia, looking into Shukri’s eyes, quietly called his name.
“Shukri.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Hashar’s eyes have become much deeper and more crimson than they were eight years ago.”
“…!!!”
Shukri’s face stiffened in shock.
“He now has deep, dark crimson eyes. What could that mean?”
Shukri hesitated for a moment before answering.
“I’m not entirely sure… but I don’t believe it’s a good sign.”
At his response, Ilsia let out a sigh.
“Just as I thought… it’s probably not good.”
Users of unholy power were rare, though not nonexistent. However, most of them possessed only trivial strength, and only a very small minority wielded power of any real use.
Among them, Hashar’s unholy power stood at the very top. Throughout the entire history of the continent, no one had ever been able to handle unholy power as well as Hashar.
Even at a young age, he had already surpassed his limits and possessed vividly red eyes, yet for some reason, he had not gone mad.
Far from becoming insane, Hashar maintained his composure and led the Alshatra Empire into a golden age brighter than ever before.
And now his eyes had turned into an even deeper, darker crimson… What had happened to him? As Ilsia pondered this, Shukri asked another question.
“Were you able to achieve your objective?”
“I went and warned him about death.”
Though he didn’t seem to take it very seriously. Ilsia swallowed the rest of her words and quickly changed the subject, but Shukri asked again.
“Does he—Hashar… remember you?”
Ah… you troublesome Shukri. Ilsia felt a twinge in her chest and reproached him inwardly.
“Eight years have passed, Shukri.”
“……”
“He and I have both changed a great deal. I’ve become an entirely different person… Wouldn’t it be foolish to expect him to recognize me?”
A bitter smile spread across Ilsia’s lips.
—
The Sultan’s office, unlike the other rooms in the palace, had a rigid and ascetic atmosphere.
The room, decorated mainly in calm, dark tones rather than vivid reds, contained neatly arranged furniture as well.
The office was a place Hashar personally curated down to every piece of furniture and every carpet on the floor. His reason was simple: he wanted a space where he could focus without any distractions.
Leaning back in a large black chair, Hashar was reading documents. Amid the sound of pages turning and pens scratching, he casually said to Alsned as if it were nothing.
“A very beautiful woman came into my bedroom last night.”
“…?!”
However, the content of his abrupt remark was far from trivial. As soon as Hashar spoke, Alsned began to think rapidly.
What could His Majesty possibly mean? The only women who would enter the bedroom would be those of the harem.
Could it be that the harem women had finally lost control and barged into the Sultan’s bedroom? But then there would have been bodies to deal with yesterday, and there weren’t any…
Alsned cautiously glanced at Hashar. He seemed to be in a very good mood. A deep smile rested on his face as he continued.
“It’s been a while since I let an impudent night visitor leave without killing them.”
At his seemingly cheerful tone, Alsned dropped the documents he was holding in surprise, while Hashar calmly set down the papers he had been reading.
Resting his chin slightly with one hand, Hashar looked steadily at Alsned.
Alsned was still not accustomed to enduring the Sultan’s crimson gaze. Seeing his startled reaction, Hashar let out a faint smile and spoke leisurely.
“What must one do to obtain what they desire, Alsned?”
“W-well… you should just continue as you have been…”
Since when did he start asking questions like that?
It felt like it would be easier to simply smash things and run wild. Already accustomed to his forceful and violent nature, Alsned found this considerate, thoughtful demeanor even more uncomfortable.
“I’ve never had to think about such things before.”
Hashar idly moved his fingers. A thread of black smoke flowed from his fingertips, circling around him as if playing. After silently manipulating the smoke for a moment, he turned back to Alsned.
“Everything I wanted came into my hands before I even wished for it, so there was never any need to think about it. Isn’t that right?”
Faced with the barrage of questions, Alsned didn’t know how to respond. It was obvious that a wrong answer could lead to serious trouble.
As Alsned hesitated without answering, Hashar seemed not to expect a reply and continued speaking.
“So, Alsned. About the upcoming banquet…”
But with those words, Alsned realized that the situation was far from fortunate.
“Your Majesty, please…”
Not that one—please! Alsned pleaded desperately, but Hashar, having already made his decision, did not budge.
“I trust you’re perceptive enough to understand my meaning.”
Alsned felt as though it would be better if he were simply beaten.
—
A mansion somewhere in the capital city of Aslan in the Alshatra Empire.
The place, which looked like an ordinary wealthy household without any special distinction, was where Ilsia and the Dekarim resided. And in the mansion’s office, Ilsia was on the verge of fainting.
“What!? Say that again, Shukri. I must have heard wrong, right?”
Ilsia asked in shock, and Shukri cautiously glanced around before repeating himself.
“It means that the security of the banquet has been entirely entrusted to Emir Ahad…”
“What kind of insane bastard is this!!”
Ilsia sprang up from her seat and shouted, and Shukri hurriedly tried to stop her.
“Master, please use more refined language…”
“Argh! That crazy Hashar!!”
But Ilsia had already thrown refinement far away. Grabbing her head and screaming in frustration, she collapsed onto the table, then suddenly sprang back up and shouted loudly again.
“How am I supposed to stay calm?! It’s obvious what Hashar is aiming for!”
In a small voice, Shukri replied.
“He must be targeting you, Master.”
“Exactly! After I went all that way to warn him, he goes and does this on purpose…”
She was on the verge of losing her mind. After being told that Emir Ahad was a traitor, Hashar had gone ahead and entrusted Ahad with security for the banquet—essentially giving him a direct opportunity to assassinate him.
Hashar’s intention was clear. Knowing that Ilsia would try to protect him, he was deliberately putting himself in danger to make her come to him again.
Maybe warning him had been a mistake. No… perhaps Hashar had already prepared thoroughly despite his words… As she considered various possibilities, Ilsia muttered helplessly.
“But still… we won’t know what will happen…”
It was frustrating. Hashar had drawn Ilsia into a gamble with his own life on the line.
Unless she could read his heart, she had no way of knowing what cards he was holding or how much he had wagered.
Whether he held nothing at all or was setting the stage for a decisive end—only time would reveal it.
Shukri looked at Ilsia with anxious eyes and asked,
“What will you do?”
Aren’t you planning to step in again? His unspoken words seemed to echo in her ears. She shook her head.
“No… no. Let’s just watch for now. Hashar will surely have prepared something. And there are less than three days left until the banquet. There isn’t enough time for us to prepare anything, and it would be too dangerous for all the Dekarim to act together.”
At her words, Shukri’s face brightened. Seeing him smile so happily made Ilsia feel a pang of guilt.
“You’re not planning to sneak off to the banquet alone, are you?”
“W-what? O-of course not! Why would I do that?”
Ah, that startled me. Does he read minds or something…?
Shukri had guessed exactly what she was thinking. In truth, as he had suspected, Ilsia had been considering going to the banquet alone.
“If I bribe a merchant under the name of the Dekarim and enter the palace…”
Going alone would mean she couldn’t assist Hashar if anything happened to him. Still, Ilsia believed he would have prepared countermeasures.
Even so, the reason she wanted to attend the banquet was to see with her own eyes that Hashar was safe.
Quietly pushing aside the thought that she simply wanted to see him again, Ilsia calmly organized her plan to approach Hashar.
—
Merchant Pashad nervously looked around as he stood beside the carriage he had prepared. When the Dekarim had proposed sending a dancer along with his caravan to enter the Sultan’s palace, he had been utterly shocked.
Among those who walked the sands of the southern desert, no one did not know the Dekarim. They were a perfect assassin group that never failed.
Why would the Dekarim send a dancer into the Sultan’s palace? He tried to reason it out, but could not fathom their purpose.
“…?”
While Pashad was scanning the surroundings, he suddenly heard a faint jingling sound from somewhere. He instinctively turned toward the source—and was struck as if by lightning.
Under the moonlight, a woman walked along the dark path. In the dim light, it was clear she was a dancer dressed in flowing garments.
The sound he had heard was the faint jingling of metal ornaments attached to her pale blue attire.
She walked directly toward Pashad. The long, thin fabric attached to her outfit fluttered in the breeze. Pashad stared at her as if enchanted.
“Pale skin…”
He murmured blankly, and the dancer blinked calmly. Her eyes were a transparent sky blue. They were cool and refreshing, enough to make one forget the heat of the desert just by looking at them. No matter how long he looked, he couldn’t grow tired of them—it felt as though he was being drawn in.
As Pashad stood dazed for quite some time, the dancer spoke first.
“We’ll be late for the banquet at this rate.”
At her words, Pashad snapped back to his senses and lowered the carriage for her. However, it took some time to fully lower it, as even the porters carrying the carriage were too captivated by her to focus.
During that time, Pashad kept glancing at the dancer. Pale skin, beautiful features, a slender figure—she was truly a perfect woman for the desert.
The Dekarim who were supposed to accompany the dancer were nowhere to be seen. Where had they hidden themselves? As Pashad looked at her, a greedy thought suddenly crept into his mind.
“If this girl is to be discarded after the mission… perhaps I could take her for myself…”
Suppressing his dark intentions, Pashad helped the dancer into the carriage. For now, he had to deliver her to the palace as agreed with the Dekarim.
He did not know why the Dekarim were sending a dancer to the palace, nor where this pale-skinned dancer had come from.
However, one thing was certain: no one knew who would fall dead in the Sultan’s palace that day, but the Dekarim would never fail.
No man of the desert could remain unaffected by such a pale and beautiful dancer.
