TFLMLD 78

Chapter 78

Macaron’s Revenge

It was common that when an emperor changed, a bloody purge would follow—but Rainer’s summons was abrupt. That meant Macaron had given him no time to prepare. The hall was thick with tension, and Rainer, unable to swallow his rage, was seething with venom. When he struggled, Aint forced him roughly to his knees like a criminal. Only when Macaron gave the signal did Aint step aside.

Pale-faced, Rainer’s mind raced. He recalled his own misdeeds, scanning for any remaining traces. But he was certain he had erased everything perfectly.

“Is this what my younger brother does, now that he has become emperor?”

“……”

“No emperor, no matter how tyrannical, has ever struck down a brother without cause.”

For the early emperors, reputation was paramount. Until they had secured enough power to stand firmly on their own, they acted as cautiously as possible. Rainer knew better than anyone that Macaron was not reckless enough to defy that rule. Glancing around, Rainer wore a triumphant smile. His words, almost like a wail, stirred murmurs among the nobles who had supported him. They were both doubtful and fearful—since no one knew when it might be their turn. Rainer put on the most pitiful expression he could, hoping to sway opinion in his favor.

“I sought nothing more than to leave the palace and live quietly. Will you not even permit me that?”

“……”

“Even if not for me, I beg you to spare my family.”

Rainer had never truly cared for his family. But many nobles still saw him not as a despot, but as an incompetent prince. Thus, his appeal to sentiment gained some traction. Watching him quietly, Macaron rose from the throne and stepped forward. His gentle eyes narrowed, his crimson gaze gleaming with menace.

“I never knew you cared so deeply for family.”

“……”

Bending low, Macaron whispered in Rainer’s ear like a curse.

“Then why did you send Deis away like that?”

When Macaron straightened again, his eyes burned with murderous intent. Rainer flinched and darted his gaze about.

Deis…? Why bring up the past now? Could he know the truth of that incident? Where did he even hear it?

Swallowing hard, Rainer looked at Macaron.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Macaron curled his lip in a sneer and shoved him roughly.

“If you don’t know, then I’ll have to teach you.”

He raised his fist—and at that moment, the chamber doors opened. A prison-like structure was wheeled in, shrouded in black cloth. Whatever was inside remained hidden, but the shifting shadow within made the nobles recoil in alarm. Then, a mournful, beastly cry filled the hall, chilling the air. Rainer’s eyes widened as he guessed what it was. Trembling, he watched as Macaron pulled the black cloth away—revealing none other than Pagan, the beast lord.

The instant suspicion became certainty, terror flooded Rainer’s face.

But I heard he was dead…

Cold sweat drenched his trembling body. Instinct told him it was over.

“How are you…?”

His muttered words were loud enough for the nobles to hear. From beginning to end, Pagan’s hateful gaze had never left Rainer. With a growl, Pagan gripped the bars, the iron shrieking like a scream—like a cry born of his very soul. Macaron began his interrogation.

“Pagan. On whose orders did you invade Craide?”

Slowly, Pagan turned his head. His blood-red eyes locked onto Rainer’s violet ones, unblinking.

“Prince Rainer’s.”

“And for what purpose?”

“To assassinate Your Majesty.”

The nobles erupted in disbelief. But the monster’s assault on Craide had many witnesses. Several had seen Pagan themselves. With testimony from Craide’s nobles piling up, the tide of opinion swiftly turned. The beast attack, the poisoning attempt, even the death of Craide’s servants—all of it, by Pagan’s account, traced back to Rainer. The nobles’ gazes on him shifted drastically.

Rainer burst out laughing like a madman.

“What are you trying to do, Your Majesty? Smear me with the words of a mere monster?”

Even with everything exposed, he raved to the end. If it meant survival, he would say anything. Enraged, Pagan projected his memories into a soul vessel that Macaron himself had crafted. One by one, his thoughts were displayed—among them the truth of young Deis’s death, revealed as Rainer’s crime. The chamber erupted again. Pagan’s crimson eyes burned into Rainer.

“I’ve lived as a dog my entire life, and still you had to take my family from me!”

“……”

“Why?!”

Even the nobles who had pitied Rainer now turned on him, pointing fingers. The man who moments ago had pled for his family now stood exposed as nothing but a cruel fiend. No one was fooled. Yet still Rainer insisted it was slander.

“This creature rants only to vent his grudge. Surely you won’t kill me on a monster’s word?”

At his shamelessness, Macaron let out a bark of laughter and gripped the throne’s armrest.

“Of course not.”

At his signal, the doors opened again. Two foreign-looking men were dragged in. Rainer clenched his fists in fury. Having been unmasked, the men now had nothing left but to save themselves. And they knew well that it was Macaron, not Rainer, who held their lives. Without being asked, they confessed.

“Prince Rainer told us in advance about the battle in Mitnut Gorge.”

His crimes were not few. But betraying military secrets enraged even the nobles who had stood with him. Though he thrashed to the end, not even pity remained for him. Mercy was unthinkable. Macaron looked down at him, crimson eyes cold with mockery.

“I, Macaron, sentence Rainer Craide to indefinite imprisonment in Serina.”

Though not execution, Serina imprisonment was far crueler. Located at the empire’s northernmost edge, it was a prison reserved for only the worst criminals. Once inside, a prisoner spent life in a cell so small one could not even lie down properly. Most went mad and chose death. None had ever returned alive. Most ironic of all—Rainer himself had built Serina.

Terrified, he begged Macaron for mercy. Macaron stepped close and whispered low.

“Spend your life atoning in the very place you created, brother.”

His expression was blank, devoid of all feeling. Then, ascending once more to the throne, Macaron continued sentencing the guilty.

“To Railyn Craide and his son Chen Craide: exile to Killiman Island.”

Killiman was a remote island, cut off from outside contact, but easy for the empire to monitor. It removed the danger of imperial unrest without being excessively cruel. Chen, after all, was only a child. Nobles judged Macaron’s decision merciful.

Dragged from the palace, Rainer never repented—only raged to the last. Railyn at least sighed in relief at his lighter sentence. Everything unfolded as Macaron had willed. Everything—except for Calyps.

Later, in his study, only the scratching of a quill on paper broke the silence.

Imperial Year 1035, January 12.
It has already been two seasons since the one who was my entire world left me.
Without Calyps, my life is an empty cart.
I fear now I may never find her again.
Night after night I lose sleep to nightmares.
At winter’s end, may spring come—I pray and pray again.

The Changer business had been smooth from the start. The Duchy of Meringue, often host to social gatherings, had high demand for cosmetics. Centered on the makeup product Changer, magical tools attracted customers. Producing promotional videos for display in shops had been a stroke of genius. Curious about Changer, visitors began buying other magical tools as well.

At first, it was just a small venture, something to distract from thoughts of Macaron and the children… but word of mouth spread so widely that customers came even from other territories to purchase it. Profits were good, but the bigger the business grew, the more likely word would reach Macaron. Yet refusing customers was not an option.

I’ll need to set up a barrier.

Skilled magicians could erect strong barriers to conceal people. The problem was finding and hiring one. After finishing her business with the Merchen guild next month, she planned to leave the shop for a time and visit the Mage Tower.