Chapter 7. I Will Take What I Need Because I Need You
(2016.01.25)
Unbelievable.
Ilsia’s eyes widened, still unable to wipe away her tears cleanly. She realized this was not the time to be crying and whining.
“Kalif!?”
As Ilsia screamed his name, Shukri let out another sigh. He, too, was at a loss. He had no idea how to handle this situation.
“Setting aside Hashar… why Kalif as well…?”
Ilsia blinked in confusion, unable to comprehend it, when Shukri wordlessly handed her a black sheet of paper. Ilsia instinctively accepted it.
The neatly folded black paper bore the symbolic color of the Ahalah religion. It was sealed with white wax stamped with Kalif’s insignia.
In the corner, Kalif’s signature was written in white ink—elegant handwriting that was both refined and ornate.
“We haven’t checked the contents yet. Please read it now, my lady.”
At Shukri’s words, Ilsia carefully broke the seal with trembling hands. Compared to the large sheet, the message written on it was quite brief.
“I would like to request a commission from the master of Dekarim. As it is a serious matter, I wish to meet in person. I await your reply…”
After reading the request aloud, Ilsia looked at Shukri. The content itself was nothing special—but the problem was that it had been sent by Kalif. Shukri shrugged.
“He must have heard the rumors from the banquet hall.”
“…That makes sense.”
“Kalif is also someone who wields power. It wouldn’t be strange for him to desire to amplify his divine power.”
“……”
This was troublesome. Even handling Hashar alone was overwhelming enough—now Kalif as well.
To be fair, Hashar had been deliberately drawn in for use, but Kalif was different.
From what she had heard, Kalif’s true nature was said to be far more cruel than what was publicly known.
It was one of those unspoken facts that Ahalah priests trembled at the mere mention of his name.
Those who followed and believed in Kalif supposedly knew nothing of this, and simply praised his sacred power and benevolence…
While Ilsia was lost in thought, a white sheet of paper was held out in front of her.
“This is Sultan Hashar’s request.”
Ah, she hadn’t even read Hashar’s yet.
Ilsia took the paper from Shukri, feeling dizzy. The document bore the emblem of the Alshatra Empire in gold leaf. Breaking the seal stamped with red wax, the first thing she saw was bold, jagged black handwriting.
“…What is this atrocious handwriting?”
Confused, Ilsia examined it more closely—it seemed to be written by Hashar himself. Despite the gravity of the situation, she let out a laugh.
That beast of a man writing by hand—and such terrible handwriting at that. It was impossible not to laugh.
Every stroke reflected Hashar’s personality.
The thick, forceful lines were wild and rough. And most importantly, it was completely illegible.
Shukri glanced at it curiously from the side.
When Ilsia handed him the paper, he attempted to interpret it. After struggling for a while, Shukri finally managed to decipher it.
“Hmm… It seems to say he has a request for the master of Dekarim and will come to visit… I think.”
There was no confidence in his interpretation, which made Ilsia chuckle again.
“It’s like a cipher.”
Hearing Shukri’s grumbling, Ilsia laughed briefly before exhaling deeply and collapsing onto the desk.
The large desk in the study, which also served as an office, was spacious enough for her to lie down on.
Sprawled across it, Ilsia muttered.
“…This isn’t really a situation to be laughing about, though…”
There was no specified time for Hashar’s visit. That meant he could come in a month, in a week… or even today.
Tangled in her thoughts, Ilsia idly ruffled her hair in frustration before suddenly lifting her head.
“Wait a second. The fact that both Kalif and Hashar sent requests to Dekarim means…”
Shukri finished her thought.
“It means they know that the master of Dekarim is the king of Devaris.”
“How do they know that?”
Ilsia looked at Shukri in disbelief. She had revealed that she was the King of Devaris, but she had never stated she was the master of Dekarim. Shukri gathered the papers and replied:
“Most likely, information leaked from the merchant who helped you enter the Sultan’s banquet.”
“Ah…”
“He apparently went around boasting that he had been asked by Dekarim to bring a dancer to the banquet.”
She hadn’t considered that. For a merchant to spread rumors like that… Everything had already gone off her expectations from the moment she had revealed herself in front of Hashar.
It seemed necessary to silence that merchant first. Talking about matters related to Dekarim so freely… He would need to be taught a harsh lesson.
“Where is that merchant now?”
At Ilsia’s question, Shukri replied smoothly:
“I killed him.”
“…Ah… hmm?”
The casual tone made her realize something was off a moment later.
“You killed him?”
“Yes.”
She had said she would teach him a lesson—but not kill him.
Startled by the excessive response, Ilsia blinked at Shukri, but there was no trace of remorse on his face. Rather, he looked as if he was being asked something obvious.
“Wasn’t that the appropriate action? We must ensure your identity is not exposed.”
“……”
Shukri felt no hesitation about killing the merchant. And yet, Ilsia couldn’t bring herself to reprimand him. This was entirely her fault.
Shukri—and all of Dekarim—had a moral compass centered solely around Ilsia. Anything that benefited her was right; anything that didn’t was wrong.
From his perspective, killing the merchant was the most natural decision.
“My careless actions cost a life…”
Ilsia clenched her fist in silence. Shukri tilted his head.
“My lady?”
“Ah… it’s nothing.”
Ilsia forced herself to push the thought away. The past could not be changed. It was better to focus on the present. She spoke:
“For now, wouldn’t it be better to meet Hashar? We did promise to assist him…”
“Absolutely not!”
Shukri waved the two sheets of paper emphatically.
“After seeing this situation, how can you say that?!”
Overwhelmed by his intensity, Ilsia shrank back.
“Ugh…”
“It’s not just Hashar—the moment you reveal yourself, powerful individuals will start gathering like this!”
Slamming his hand on the desk, Shukri continued, agitated:
“Accepting Hashar’s help means your hidden identity will inevitably be exposed, even slightly—and that will mark the beginning of a war to claim you.”
“……”
“What do you think will happen to you in the process? You’ll be hurt… or worse…”
His voice began to tremble, eventually becoming moist with emotion. Shukri pleaded:
“For the sake of Dekarim… for our sake… you must not do this…”
“Shukri…”
Faced with his plea, how could she refuse? Ilsia had no choice but to agree.
“Alright… so the best course is to avoid both Kalif and the Sultan?”
“Yes. That is the only way.”
“Understood. We’ll proceed accordingly.”
“From now on, we’ll spread false information to prevent Hashar and Kalif from locating Dekarim.”
So that was that, for now.
Ilsia sighed lightly. As if regaining composure, Shukri called out to her.
“My lady.”
Gone was his earlier stern demeanor; now he looked apologetic.
“Thank you for following my advice.”
He must have felt he had been too harsh. Ilsia smiled gently to reassure him.
“No. Your judgment was correct.”
Shukri was wise. His guidance had always led Dekarim in the right direction. This time would be no different.
“My lady!!”
At that moment, a loud banging came from the door, along with a voice calling out to Ilsia. One of the Dekarim members was at the door. His voice was urgent, sending a jolt of tension through her.
Shukri opened the door in her stead. The Dekarim member standing outside had a pale, ashen face.
“My lady, it’s an emergency!”
“What is it that causes such commotion?”
Shukri’s sharp glare would have silenced most people, but the man didn’t react—if anything, he was too panicked to notice.
“Th-the devil… no, Sultan Hashar…”
“Hashar?!”
Ilsia’s heart began to pound.
The Dekarim member finished his sentence with difficulty:
“He has arrived.”
“!!”
Before he could even finish speaking, Shukri rushed out of the office. He paused briefly, then turned back and shouted to Ilsia:
“Stay in this room! Do not step outside under any circumstances!!”
And then he vanished in an instant.
Left alone in the office, Ilsia collapsed into her chair.
“What… is going on right now…”
She had written that he would come—but she hadn’t expected him to arrive so quickly… and so abruptly.
She regretted joking earlier that he might come today. As the saying goes, words become reality… or perhaps even thoughts do.
Overwhelmed by the rapidly unfolding situation, her vision seemed to spin. She felt nauseous.
Unable to hold it in, Ilsia muttered:
“That beast, Hashar…”
He truly was a man without hesitation or restraint. She had known he wasn’t sane—but not to this extent.
Once Hashar set his sights on something, he would pursue it relentlessly, tearing into it like a predator and refusing to let go until satisfied.
Ilsia knew she was on the verge of being caught in his jaws.
“I need to do something…”
The outside was quiet. That made it even more unsettling—she had no idea what was happening beyond the door.
As she debated whether to go out or follow Shukri’s orders, a strange feeling crept over her.
“…?”
She looked up at the ceiling.
A mass of black smoke was forming.
It was instantaneous movement using dark power. And that dense, vivid color—it was unmistakably the same as Hashar’s from before.
Before Ilsia could even react, the smoke slowly descended and began to gather into a long shape before dispersing.
What emerged from the smoke was a man.
His half-closed eyes opened, revealing deep crimson irises. The ominous aura surrounding his muscular, bronze-toned body made him seem anything but human.
The image suited his epithet perfectly, and without realizing it, Ilsia murmured:
“…A devil.”
Hashar smiled in response.
“It seems the master of Dekarim has more than one life.”
Ilsia swallowed hard.
This was their third encounter. Unlike Ilsia, who stumbled backward and hit the edge of the desk in shock, Hashar remained composed.
As if he owned the place, he casually sat on the sofa and beckoned with his finger.
“Come here.”
But Ilsia did not move.
Seeing her refusal, Hashar’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You already know why I’ve come. I’m here to keep my promise—not to waste time.”
How much did he know? Part? A lot? Everything? Her mind raced.
But Hashar was not the type to wait for her thoughts. As always, he was impatient.
“Eek!!”
Her body was suddenly pulled forward by an unknown force. She was drawn into his arms and firmly restrained.
Hashar held her tightly so she could not escape. He buried his face near her wrist and inhaled deeply.
Ilsia’s body reacted immediately to the presence of such overwhelming power.
A massive weight pressed down on her, resonating with his heartbeat. A strange, electrifying sensation spread through her—both exhilarating and draining.
“Ahh…!”
Hashar exhaled in satisfaction.
“Just as I thought… it was you. The King of Devaris, the head of Dekarim.”
Ilsia, regaining her senses, glared at him. Meeting his red eyes was difficult, but unavoidable. She bit her lip and snapped:
“You… are quite rude.”
But Hashar did not respond. Instead, he touched the corner of her eye. Her body trembled slightly from the heightened sensitivity caused by the resonance. As she flinched, he slowly withdrew his hand and whispered:
“If you are here…”
His gaze looked almost enchanted, yet his voice carried a faint darkness.
“I can sleep… even without Caligula.”
“…?”
What does that mean?
Before she could process it, Hashar suddenly grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her closer.
The dark aura was gone. At a distance where their noses nearly touched, he spoke quickly:
“I need you, so I will take you. Of course, I won’t forget my promise to help you—but I intend to pay an appropriate price.”
“Hashar—!”
“Don’t even think about escaping me. From now on, I’ll use any means necessary to have you.”
After saying what he wanted, Hashar relaxed again, smiling as usual.
“Well then… that’s how it is.”
He gently brushed aside her hair and, placing a kiss near her ear, asked:
“So, what does the queen intend to do now?”
“….”
Such consideration—asking for her opinion himself.
Ilsia had many questions she wanted to ask: how he deduced she was Dekarim, how he found this place… but she couldn’t voice any of them.
A beast was baring its fangs right in front of her, asking what she would do. If she wanted to survive, there was only one option.
What a bastard.
As she muttered inwardly, a loud crash echoed outside. The door burst open.
“My lady!!”
The one who stormed in was Shukri.
Breathless and flushed, he froze the moment he stepped inside the room.
He looked at Ilsia—who was in Hashar’s arms.
“You arrived sooner than expected.”
Hashar greeted him lazily.
Shukri gritted his teeth.
“You son of a—!”
Fire burned in his eyes.
