14. So That Hashar Does Not Notice
2016.02.18.
Only after quite some time did the Khalif stop laughing and ask a question.
“Have we met before?”
At his question, Ilsia smiled faintly and replied.
“We have. We met in a dream.”
“In a dream…”
The Khalif let his words trail off. Ilsia narrowed her eyes slightly and said,
“You’re not planning to act like you don’t know after barging into someone else’s dream, are you?”
Taking a step closer, Ilsia looked up at him. The Khalif smiled softly as he looked down at her.
He seemed to be in a very good mood. Looking into his gray eyes, fragments of the dream began to resurface in her memory.
Not completely, but pieces here and there were gradually coming together.
“Do you remember me, Ilsia?”
“You, Khalif…”
Without even answering his question, Ilsia, focused solely on recalling her memories, unconsciously voiced what came to mind.
“…You kissed me in the dream.”
A sharp crash rang out loudly.
Shukri, who had been standing to one side, lost his footing slightly and knocked over a vase on the table. Though Ilsia inwardly thought, Oh no, she maintained a calm exterior. Her face tingled under Shukri’s gaze.
The Khalif removed the white gloves he had been wearing and placed them on the black bed. The stark contrast between white and black drew Ilsia’s eyes briefly. Looking steadily at her, the Khalif replied,
“That’s right.”
The gentle, warm eyes he had shown just moments ago were gone. His cold, chilling gaze matched his gray eyes in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. At that moment, Ilsia realized with certainty that the Khalif was also a man of the desert.
If Hashar was the blazing midday sun of the desert, the Khalif was its frigid night.
The deep blue hours when the sand, heated throughout the day, rapidly cools—bringing with it bone-chilling cold. The desert night, which abruptly transforms and mocks the travelers softened by the daytime heat.
The Khalif never took his eyes off Ilsia. His persistent, almost obsessive gaze swept over her.
“And the fact that I wanted to touch you directly…”
Just as Ilsia had done earlier, the Khalif stepped closer to her. From a distance of only a couple of steps, he continued,
“Do you remember that as well?”
“……”
Standing before her, unable to answer, he raised his bare hand, having removed his glove.
This was an expected step from the moment she decided to meet him. Physical contact was necessary for him to gauge her power, so it couldn’t be helped.
To steady herself, Ilsia bit down firmly on the soft flesh inside her mouth. From this point on, she needed to stay sharp.
“Someone of your caliber, Khalif, must already know what kind of abilities I possess.”
Ilsia did not avoid him. Instead, she stepped closer and extended her hand toward him.
“You may examine it.”
The Khalif gently took her offered hand. As Ilsia’s gaze was momentarily caught by the blue veins visible beneath his pale hand, a strange thought crossed her mind.
No… he’s the Khalif. What am I thinking right now?
And yet, why had he kissed her in the dream? As the Khalif of the Ahala faith—whose doctrine was asceticism—he shouldn’t have done such a thing. Perhaps it had been her imagination alone? But the Khalif himself had acknowledged the kiss…
While Ilsia was lost in confusion, the Khalif lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. Ilsia’s hand trembled slightly.
A gesture of respect is usually a light touch of the lips, brief and fleeting. But the Khalif did not do that.
It felt as though he were stamping his mark on something he claimed as his own. His deep, lingering kiss pressed firmly against the back of her hand.
With his lips still pressed there, he looked at Ilsia. His elegantly lifted gray eyes revealed flickers of desire behind a veneer of compassion.
A resonant hum spread through the room with a faint vibration. Ilsia suppressed her surprise and quickly spoke before the resonance intensified.
“Control your energy. So Hashar doesn’t notice…”
She stopped mid-sentence and inhaled.
It was an unfamiliar sensation. This was the first time she had resonated with sacred power. The power bestowed upon those loved by a god felt distinctly different from the unholy force.
When she had accepted Hashar’s power, it had been hot. But the Khalif’s was cold. It felt as though her entire body was being filled with ice, slowly freezing from within.
As Ilsia struggled silently, unable even to scream, a low groan escaped the Khalif. It was the sound of him restraining the surging energy within his body.
He was focusing intensely. White light flickered briefly around him, appearing and disappearing in bursts.
Ilsia worried for a moment that the sacred power might go out of control, but fortunately, the Khalif quickly began to rein it in. She inwardly admired him.
So the name Khalif isn’t given lightly.
The bright white light gradually faded, leaving only faint traces behind. Surrounded by a soft glow, the Khalif looked like a figure straight out of legend.
Was this the form that had been chosen by a god?
“Phew…”
The Khalif exhaled slowly. Ilsia gently withdrew her hand. With that one resonance, she had learned a great deal about him.
The Khalif was rational and composed. He handled the surge of power with remarkable control.
If both were equally dangerous, it was better to choose someone like the Khalif—who could control himself—over Hashar, whose stability was uncertain.
Looking at Shukri, he gave a small nod. It seemed he thought the same. A silent agreement to choose the Khalif over Hashar.
But… something still feels off.
Hashar was straightforward. He was direct with Ilsia and hid nothing.
However, the Khalif was subtle and difficult to read. Though always gentle and courteous, he felt like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.
“Why did you not refuse contact with me?”
At the Khalif’s words, Ilsia snapped out of her thoughts and looked at him. He stood there, brimming with power. One might have felt overwhelmed, but Ilsia replied without flinching.
“To show you what kind of existence I am to you.”
Then, with a cat-like smile, she asked confidently,
“You understand my value now, don’t you?”
The Khalif smiled back at her. His eyes, now carrying a faint heat, fully revealed his desire toward her.
With an expression entirely inconsistent with the doctrines of mercy and asceticism of Ahala, he replied,
“Desperately.”
What would the followers of Ahala think if they knew their benevolent Khalif was speaking like this with a heretical woman? For a brief moment, the urge to expose his true nature surged within her.
But it was pointless to expect the faithful hounds of Ahala to believe the words of a heretic—especially a woman. More importantly, it was irrelevant in this situation.
She needed to extract as much information from him as possible.
“If that’s the case, what price are you willing to pay to have me?”
“Let’s see… what would I need to offer to satisfy you?”
Ilsia stepped back slightly to prevent him from touching her further. At the increased distance, the Khalif blinked slowly, as though he might step forward at any moment.
“There’s only one thing I want.”
Ilsia met his gaze.
“The safety of the Devaris clan.”
The Khalif smiled silently. That was unsettling. It felt easier to communicate with him than with Hashar, but her instincts kept warning her that something was wrong.
Despite her apparent lack of trust, the Khalif did not rush her. Instead, he sat casually on the bed, displaying a relaxed demeanor.
“I don’t believe I’m inferior to beasts.”
“Beasts…”—he was referring to Hashar.
“Though he is called the ruler of the desert, the Sultan, it is merely a fleeting position obtained through force.”
The Khalif pointed at Ilsia, and a white beam of light extended toward her.
While she hesitated, unsure of his intent, the slow-moving light slipped into her. At the same time, something spread out before her eyes.
“…!”
She saw a vision.
At the highest, brightest place stood the Khalif, surrounded by pure white light.
Before him stretched a dark wave—hundreds, thousands of people in black priestly robes bowing their heads in submission.
In that place, the Khalif was a god—an absolute ruler.
“Gah!!”
Ilsia came to her senses as something tightly embraced her.
“Ah…”
She was in Shukri’s arms. The sensation of being pulled back to reality was chilling, like cold water being splashed over her.
“Enough.”
Shukri glared at the Khalif and warned him.
“I will not allow any further disrespect.”
The Khalif looked genuinely regretful.
“Oh dear, my apologies. I simply wanted to explain more clearly…”
Ilsia steadied her breathing in Shukri’s arms. It was not pleasant to have someone rummage through her mind. But thanks to the vision, she now clearly understood his intentions.
Not domination through force, but voluntary submission through religious belief.
That was why he was so confident. His followers’ loyalty surpassed that of Hashar’s. The Khalif knew that if Ilsia thought rationally, she would have no choice but to choose him.
However, his earlier actions had been quite rude.
“You…”
Ilsia slowly lifted her head to look at the Khalif. He smiled as if nothing had happened. Anger welled up within her. She said quietly,
“Go ahead and run wild to your heart’s content.”
At that moment—
The lights in the room flickered. With no wind to cause it, the trembling flames felt like an ominous sign. A chill ran through her body as Ilsia instinctively looked up at the ceiling.
Black smoke had gathered there in a circular formation. It was unholy power—but this dense black was not Shukri’s.
“…!”
The thick smoke slowly descended. Ilsia, Shukri, and even the Khalif watched in silence. The smoke formed a pillar-like shape before gradually dispersing.
Within it stood a fierce beast, clearly agitated.
“What…”
His feet landed lightly with a tap on the floor. His red eyes scanned the room.
“I don’t know what you all are doing gathered in someone else’s house.”
Caught in the act, Ilsia weakly called his name.
“Hashar…”
It seemed Hashar had sensed the sacred energy the Khalif had just used. Having his domain intruded upon, he looked extremely displeased.
“Ilsia.”
Hearing him call her name so briefly, Ilsia blinked in surprise. He rarely ever addressed her directly. Hashar strode toward her and looked down.
Feeling guilty, she avoided his gaze slightly. Secret negotiations with the Khalif had led to her being caught red-handed—there was no way to avoid the awkwardness.
Looking at her like a cornered mouse, Hashar said,
“That ring was given to you for times like this…”
The ring on her finger gleamed brightly, feeling almost reproachful. Unaware that the ring had been given by Hashar, Shukri turned his head sharply to look at it. Hashar smirked and asked,
“Are you planning to keep it safely tucked away?”
“I…”
Ilsia had no words, no matter how many she had. She could only roll her eyes helplessly. Seeing her like that, Hashar raised an eyebrow.
“How sad.”
He said “sad” with a completely unsad expression.
“It seems we are only this kind of relationship. Were you toying with me?”
“W-what?”
What is he even talking about?! Ilsia stared at him in shock. Hashar replied casually,
“It seems you’ve forgotten everything about seducing me in my chambers.”
“That’s not—!”
What nonsense is this?! Ilsia’s mouth hung open in disbelief, but the situation only worsened.
Shukri beside her seemed to be believing Hashar’s words. He looked at Ilsia with an expression that could only be described as deeply shocked. Ilsia felt like she was going insane.
Just then, something snapped her back to reality.
“Ha, haha, ahahaha!”
It was the Khalif’s laughter.
After laughing wildly for quite some time, he turned his gaze to Hashar. The moment their eyes met, invisible sparks seemed to fly.
A silent but intense battle of wills unfolded in that gaze. However, both maintained outward calm. The Khalif spoke in a gentle voice:
“Is it been eight years, Hashar?”
Unlike the Khalif’s polite demeanor, Hashar made no attempt to hide his hostility. His voice was rough, as if he might tear the Khalif apart at any moment.
“Eight years, Khalif.”
The Khalif said with an amused expression,
“Feels similar to before.”
“Similar, you say…”
Ilsia sensed something odd in their conversation. They spoke as if they had met before somewhere. Yet the Khalif was said never to have left Caliphate.
But she could not probe further, as Hashar redirected the conversation.
“So, Your Exalted Khalif—when did you learn to lay your hands on what belongs to others?”
Ilsia held her breath at Hashar’s words. This was no longer a conversation—it was open provocation. Not something that should ever be said between a Sultan and a Khalif.
But it didn’t end there.
“Your manners have certainly deteriorated.”
Ilsia’s face paled at the blatant insult, difficult even to frame as diplomatic rudeness. If word of this spread, Alshatra would be thrown into chaos. Yet the parties themselves seemed unconcerned.
The Khalif merely smiled as though hearing a joke. If anything, Hashar appeared the more anxious one.
“Oh dear, ‘belongs to others’?”
The Khalif picked up the white gloves he had left on the bed. Putting them back on, he covered his mouth with his hand and smiled like a painting.
“Until a rightful owner is decided… that seems rather premature.”
At his words, Hashar’s brow twitched. The Khalif’s crescent-shaped smile was a highly effective provocation.
Hashar suddenly pulled Ilsia close to his side. Taken by surprise, she looked up at him, but his gaze was fixed on the Khalif.
Growling, Hashar warned,
“She is mine.”
His low voice scraped against the eardrums. Seeing Ilsia pulled close to Hashar, the Khalif spread his hands and said,
“Well then, how about this?”
Ilsia felt a wave of unease. She had a bad feeling about what he was about to say—and unfortunately, her instincts were correct.
“No—rather, let the Queen of Devaris make the choice herself.”
