CHAPTER 112…………………………………………………..
2023.12.21.
“I wonder if there’s anyone else in this empire who can sit across from the Great Chief and drink like this. It would be disappointing if I missed such an interesting occasion.”
“Well, that’s true enough.”
“But just drinking is no fun. How about we make a wager?”
“A wager?”
Lord Racki’s black eyes turned toward me. A faint smile flickered across eyes so dark it was hard to distinguish pupil from iris.
“The first one to pass out must surrender the most valuable thing they possess.”
The Great Chief frowned.
“That’s rather excessive for a drinking game.”
“Then let’s make it the most valuable thing we currently have.”
“That’s more reasonable. I’ll bet my purse.”
The Great Chief pulled a pouch from his waist and tossed it down.
Lord Racki turned his gaze to me.
His relaxed attitude suggested it didn’t matter whether I accepted or refused.
I should’ve asked Kichep for some money.
“I’m not sure how much is in the Great Chief’s purse, but I’m not sure I have anything equally valuable on me right now.”
When I honestly admitted I had nothing to wager, Lord Racki let out a snicker.
“Then is that a refusal?”
His tone made it clear he had expected this. If I backed down here, I’d look ridiculous.
He was excellent at cornering people.
“I’ll wager the fine liquor stored at my residence.”
Unlike the pleased Great Chief, Lord Racki shook his head.
“That’s not fair. You must wager something you have on you right now.”
What a ridiculous objection.
I smiled and asked,
“What would you suggest? I can’t exactly wager my clothes.”
“That would be amusing too.”
“Pardon?”
Resting his chin on his hand, Racki curled the corners of his mouth upward.
“Your undergarments would be far more valuable than a few coins.”
What kind of pervert is this bastard.
I glared at him with a smiling face. Racki only grinned back.
His goal was clearly to humiliate me—and by extension, humiliate Giovanni as well.
But refusing would be the same as admitting defeat in this exchange of pride.
So for Racki, it was a win-win situation.
A filthy, cunning move.
“Hoho, you certainly speak boldly in front of an old man. Come now, let’s just drink.”
The Great Chief, glancing at me, stepped in to ease the tension. Racki shrugged as if he didn’t care, which only made him more irritating.
Clack!
I placed my hand on the table. Both of their gazes turned to me. I smiled faintly.
“Very well.”
Lord Racki raised a subtle eyebrow.
“But what will you wager, Kun?”
“I….”
Cutting him off, I suggested,
“How about wagering something other than an object?”
“Something else?”
“I believe that no expensive item you possess could compare to one wish you must fulfill.”
“Hah, you want to make a wish of me?”
“Yes.”
“The value difference is rather large, isn’t it?”
“I’m not so sure. I don’t think my undergarments are less valuable than the Great Chief’s purse—or your promise to fulfill a wish.”
For the first time, Racki narrowed his eyes and studied me.
He was trying to figure out my intention.
I replied calmly,
“I won’t ask for the golden banner of Kun.”
The golden banner was the symbol of Khan and Kun.
If the Khan was absent, the holder of the golden banner could act as regent. It was an object of immense authority.
Kun’s eyes widened. Then—
“Ha!”
He laughed, looking up at the sky. After a moment, he lowered his gaze and nodded.
“Fine. Let it be so. If you defeat me, I will grant you a wish.”
Our eyes clashed fiercely in midair.
Soon, servants brought in several rounds of liquor.
The alcohol I had brought had already been placed in a glass cabinet, deemed too valuable for the wager.
“Still, I thought this would be simple, but I’m not sure anymore. Kun is a renowned drinker even in Pyeche.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I’ve held countless drinking gatherings, but I’ve never seen Racki get drunk.”
“So he’s not someone I can easily handle.”
I said it lightly while frowning, and Racki sneered.
“Already frightened?”
I mirrored him with a crooked smile.
“Well, we’ll see who’s shorter when we measure.”
Inside, I thought: You’re dead now.
Meanwhile, in the Imperial Palace
While Igraine was busy currying favor with the Great Chief, Giovanni was working tirelessly in the imperial palace.
All morning he had been handling Khan’s troublesome errands and meeting various chiefs who followed him. Even three bodies wouldn’t have been enough.
There was still work left, but he was heading home earlier than planned after handling only the important matters.
He couldn’t stand leaving Igraine alone too long.
Then—
Tap. Tap.
A rhythmic sound echoed through the marble corridor.
Giovanni stopped walking.
Under the sunlight streaming through the windowless hall stood an old woman with a hunched back.
Tap. Tap.
The sound of her cane striking the floor had announced her presence from afar.
Her appearance was strange—almost grotesque. Colorful ornaments hung heavily from her head, and her eyes were covered with white cloth.
Even among the flamboyantly dressed desert people, she stood out.
She stopped right in front of Giovanni as if she could see him.
Her drooping lips twisted into a rough smile.
“So it is the Prince.”
“Lichia.”
Shaman Lichia.
She was the only shaman in the palace, an elder figure comparable to the Great Chief.
Once a low-ranking shaman, everything changed forty years ago when she lost her eyes in a desperate battle to save a friend.
After being engulfed in the flames of war, the fire god Salá possessed her.
With immense shamanic power, she turned the tide of battle and saved her friend—but lost her sight in return.
After this miracle, her position in the empire became firmly established.
As most skilled shamans had left for the Tower of Shamans, her power was significant enough that even Khan could not ignore her.
Many respected her—before her personality grew increasingly strange.
Perhaps it was a side effect of hosting the fire god Salá.
As if part of her mind had broken, she began acting erratically—striking chiefs with her staff, cursing young men who whispered before her.
Now people whispered that she was simply a mad old shaman.
But Giovanni spoke to her without hesitation.
“Where are you going?”
“I was on my way to meet the Prince. I thought I would find you along this path.”
Giovanni naturally took her arm and began walking.
Though feared by others, Lichia was docile only with him, and she followed quietly.
“I failed to retrieve the kingdom’s sacred relic.”
“……”
“But I obtained a talent capable of exploring underground water sources. Once he arrives, we may uncover a new oasis.”
“Failed? What failure?”
Lichia’s voice rose strangely.
Giovanni paused and looked down at her.
Though blind, she tilted her head toward him precisely.
Under the white cloth covering her eyes, her wrinkled lips formed a strange curve.
“The Prince has already obtained the kingdom’s sacred relic.”
“…?”
“Every step you take leads to the path of the Emperor.”
She repeated what she had said before leaving the palace, then smiled eerily.
“Prince… have you met your fate?”
Her voice deepened—low and husky, as if rising from underground.
Giovanni remained unmoved, used to her strange behavior.
But then—
“A scent of fresh water moss.”
Giovanni looked down at his arm. Goosebumps rose where her hand rested.
She was speaking of Igraine—whom she had never even met.
Even he could not help but be surprised.
“But be careful. It may be taken by your brother.”
Giovanni stopped walking.
Lichia stepped back.
“Fill in the missing piece. Make it whole.”
Remember, remember, remember!
She suddenly shouted, then shook her head violently.
“…Prince?”
Realizing she had returned to normal, Giovanni’s expression remained tense.
After meeting Lichia, he hurried back—and received unwelcome news from Kichep.
“You went to meet the Great Chief alone?”
“Yes. To bring him to our side and so on. Are you planning to go after her now?”
“Yes.”
Even after just returning from the palace, Giovanni was already preparing to leave again, causing Kichep to wave his hands in alarm.
“Is that really necessary? It might be better to just observe this time. The liquor we prepared as a gift was quite good. I’m sure the Great Chief will like it.”
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“Igraine is still an outsider.”
Giovanni looked at Kichep as he left the room.
“If someone harms her, what then?”
His worried gaze made Kichep fall silent.
Kichep understood how outsiders were treated.
Those of unstable origin were easy prey for the harsh desert people.
But the Prince is with her…
Still, Kichep thought there was no need to worry so much—but he quietly followed Giovanni anyway.
He understood, from a single look, that he could not stop him.
