"There's really no one."
Norbek spoke as he looked around the entrance to the now-empty underground prison.
Hearing that, the man let out a quiet snort of laughter from behind his mask.
"What? Did you think the moment you got out it'd be 'prison break!' and I'd kill you on the spot?"
"I thought there was at least a slim possibility."
"You still haven't grasped your place. Do you really think you're such a dangerous existence right now? Enough that Lucian Valdeck would need to kill you quickly, even at the cost of disgrace?"
Norbek bristled at the man's words but offered no rebuttal.
In truth, his current situation was no different from a fish laid out on a cutting board.
With just a little time, he could be calmly filleted—there was no reason to incur disgrace by dealing with him hastily.
"Having a thirst for revenge is fine, but becoming too arrogant would be troublesome. If you run wild without knowing your limits and end up destroying yourself, there'd be no point in having rescued you."
"Damn it, can't you ever shut that mouth of yours? We don't know when someone might come—shouldn't we be moving already?"
"You're not wrong. But I've already made certain preparations."
"Preparations?"
"I'll tell you later. For now, just like you said, let's get moving."
The man in the black hood turned his back once more and started forward.
The man moved without hesitation, as if he had long since studied the layout of the White Palace.
It was around the time they slipped beyond the patrol routes of the guards and reached the base of the western wall.
"Good. Now drink this potion."
"A potion?"
When a suspicious-looking white vial was held out to him, Norbek frowned.
Seeing his open distrust, the man continued with an explanation.
"It's a potion made through the joint work of an alchemist and a certain mage. When you drink it, it temporarily boosts physical strength by a large margin."
"And why are you suddenly giving me something like that?"
"Why else? Because we have to climb this. Do you think that old body of yours can scale this wall?"
When the man tapped one side of the wall, Norbek finally noticed a rope running from the top of the wall down to the ground.
It looked as though a hook had been set from above and the rope lowered—but the problem was the height.
"…You're saying we're going to climb this wall?"
"Exactly. More precisely, I'll go up first and hold the rope. You'll tie the remaining length around your waist and climb up."
"You're insane."
The curse slipped out of Norbek's mouth before he could stop himself.
Climbing such a towering wall while gripping nothing but a rope?
It was something neither Norbek nor even a robust young man could manage.
"I know what you're thinking, but there's no need to worry. This potion really is that effective."
"You're saying a single potion makes such a feat possible?"
"I climbed the other side that way myself. It would've been difficult even then if an inside collaborator hadn't set the hook and lowered the rope."
"Hm."
Even after hearing the explanation, Norbek's resistance did not fade.
If anything, his suspicion only deepened.
What if he's calling it a potion and feeding me poison instead?
When Norbek hesitated for quite some time, irritation crept into the man's voice.
"What are you doing? Don't you want to escape?"
"…I'd like to see you drink it first. If it's a safe medicine, there shouldn't be any problem drinking it right here, should there?"
"Tsk. What an annoying bastard."
The man in the black hood clicked his tongue, then gulped the potion down.
His utter lack of hesitation made Norbek—who had made the demand—flinch instead.
After shaking the vial empty and draining the very last drop, the man wiped his mouth and spoke.
"Satisfied now? Here, I'll give you the same potion, so take it."
With no grounds left to refuse, Norbek stared at the potion in silence.
Then he opened the lid and poured the contents straight down his throat in one go.
…This is real.
Norbek swallowed his shock as he looked down from the top of the wall.
Even with someone pulling him up from above, it was hard to believe he had climbed to such a height in such a short time.
"What are you standing around for? Hurry while the potion's effects last."
"Y-Yes, understood."
At the man's urging, Norbek nodded.
Unlike before, his tone had grown a bit more polite.
Anyone who could prepare such a potion and even plant collaborators inside the White Palace was clearly no ordinary force.
"I'll hold the rope, but when you go down, you'll descend on your own. Don't forget to tie the rope firmly around your waist, like when you climbed up. If you break out of prison only to die from a fall, you'll be a laughingstock."
"And once I'm down… what should I do?"
"I've prepared a horse, clothes, and food below. Mount up immediately and ride straight back to your territory. I've stocked enough supplies—you'll have more than enough to last until you return."
"…Who are you?"
Norbek ended up asking the one question he had resolved not to ask.
No respect whatsoever for House Calyx, yet intimate knowledge of the White Palace's internal layout, plus potions and even inside collaborators—
no matter how he thought about it, he couldn't guess which house possessed such power.
The man seemed equally taken aback by the question and let out a dry chuckle.
"You think I'd tell you?"
"I suppose not. That was a pointless thing to ask."
"As long as you understand. Go back and focus on your revenge. With what little life you have left, you should at least be of some use to someone in the end."
Even at the man's blatant mockery, Norbek did not feel anger this time.
Because hidden within that mockery was a piece of useful information.
He's not from the north.
If he were a northerner, he would have wanted stability in the north, at the very least.
But the man before him seemed far more concerned with blocking Lucian's path, even if chaos came to the region.
It wasn't perfect, but it was information Norbek could be reasonably satisfied with.
If he was an outsider, then he was unlikely to interfere in Norbek's affairs any further.
"Farewell. We likely won't meet again."
The man did not reply, merely gesturing impatiently for him to hurry down.
A short while later, Norbek's figure could be seen fleeing into the distance atop a sturdy horse.
Only after confirming that Norbek was gone did the man remove his hood and mask.
"Do your best, old man. Not that you'll so much as touch a single hair on His Highness's head."
Thorkel snickered to himself for a while, then pulled the black hood back over his head.
With the mission successfully completed, it was time to report.
The next day, news of Norbek's prison break shook the White Palace.
The northern nobles were shocked, yet nodded in agreement that it was something that could reasonably happen.
It had not been long since the White Palace was reopened.
Even Lucian, its master, did not yet fully grasp its internal layout, so with even a single inside collaborator, a prison break would not have been particularly difficult.
There was only one person who could not accept the situation at all—Glen.
"What do you mean by that!? Norbek Calyx escaped!?"
"It seems someone deceived the guard and opened the door for him. I can't tell what method was used. I don't know every corner of the White Palace myself, after all."
"No, just who in the world would dare— ngh!"
At Lucian's words, Glen could say nothing more and only let out a groan of distress.
After all, no one knew better than he how long the White Palace had been sealed off.
Because there were far too few servants, there were still areas inside the palace that were practically abandoned.
If conspirators had limited themselves to moving through such places while plotting the escape, it would have been entirely possible.
"Let us set aside the question of who cooperated. This is House Calyx, which has sunk its roots into the north for centuries. Even if one or two people came forward as voluntary collaborators, it wouldn't be strange. What matters is what comes next."
Lucian stared calmly at the map hanging on the wall.
"If Norbek has fled, nine times out of ten he'll head back to his own territory. After that, he'll gather troops, resist, and loudly proclaim his innocence."
"So you're saying a war will break out."
"That remains to be seen. By now, no one is unaware that House Calyx is a sinking ship. If we can properly refute his nonsense, it will be a one-sided subjugation."
On the other hand, if even a shred of credibility began to form around the nonsense he spewed, it would turn into a real war.
Realizing what Lucian was getting at, Glen squeezed his eyes shut.
Damn it. If we escort the mage away now, it'll look like the Imperial Court is deliberately screwing over Duke Lucian.
There had always been gains and losses tied to the mage's existence, but with Norbek's escape, the gap had widened severalfold.
And yet, to escort the mage away now and dump all the losses on Lucian?
It would be an outrage severe enough to instantly erase at least half of the debt the Court owed him.
"Even though he escaped, Sir Glen, what you must do remains the same. Tomorrow, simply ask His Majesty about the mage's disposition. I'll be counting on you."
"…Yes."
At Lucian's calm tone, Glen quietly nodded.
As he said, there was no other course of action but to report the situation to the Emperor.
Not long after Glen left the White Palace's office, another visitor arrived.
"Your Highness. I have returned after completing the task you assigned—perfectly."
At Thorkel's shameless declaration, Lucian snorted.
"Perfect, my ass. You said you'd see me at the banquet and all that, yet you only came back after I'd already gone out on the Hundred-Day Hunt."
"No, that's—! Still, I did handle the job itself without a single slip!"
"If you miss the deadline, it's meaningless. Still… I suppose I'll give you credit for proving your capability."
At Lucian's words—spoken as if he were granting special leniency—Thorkel let out a sigh of relief.
After offering him a seat, Lucian asked about something he had been curious about.
"Your friend… the third son of House Beor, was it? How is he now that he's become the lord? Still planning to stick with my side?"
"He doesn't really have a choice. No matter that he had a claim to succession, rebellion is still rebellion. If he wants to stabilize his footing, His Highness's recognition is absolutely essential."
"Then that's a relief. I was worried he might start talking nonsense after taking the head seat."
"Nonsense? If it were His Highness's words, he'd lick your gallbladder without hesitation. You'll be able to see for yourself soon enough. That said, about what happened yesterday—"
"Quiet."
At Lucian's lowered voice, Thorkel flinched.
At the same time, his instincts rang an alarm bell.
One step further, and the trust he had only just regained would crumble again.
"…Yesterday, the moon was very clear. I merely wished to say it was a shame we couldn't admire it together."
"Another opportunity will come. Anything else you wish to say?"
"No. Instead, when Your Highness speaks later, I will listen carefully."
"A good answer. You may go."
Just as Thorkel rose from his seat and was about to leave the office,
Lucian spoke to him as if something had just occurred to him.
"Oh, right—you said you drank that potion, didn't you? If possible, you should get plenty of rest for three or four days."
"Pardon? You said it wasn't poison."
"It's not poison, but it forcibly draws out strength. After a day passes, the exhaustion and muscle pain are no joke. If you overexert yourself thinking you're full of energy, you'll be groaning in pain."
Right now, it was treated as nothing more than useless junk,
but in times of chaos, it was the kind of thing people carried around as a spare lifeline—
whether they were dogs or cattle.
Because it had almost no side effects while delivering reliable results in moments of danger.
That said, if one failed to get proper rest, even those minor side effects could worsen and lead to health problems.
"…I'll keep that in mind."
With a slightly pale expression, Thorkel closed the door behind him and left.
Watching him go, Lucian let out a soft chuckle.
"With just a bit more refinement, he'll be quite usable."
Perhaps because he had nearly suffered a catastrophic failure once before, Thorkel had matured considerably.
He had learned to rein in his hot blood and hide his emotions—now all he lacked was experience.
"Still, that old man really has become pitiful."
Though he had arranged the prison break, the journey back to his territory in that aged body would be grueling.
At first, he would be brimming with strength, but before long there wouldn't be a single place that didn't ache.
Returning to his domain without rest in that condition, it was inevitable he would collapse into illness.
Having lost his son and the trust of those around him, what would happen if his health failed as well?
He won't just fail to rally other factions—he'll likely lose what little power he still has.
That was the fate of an unreliable leader.
Lucian took a sip of tea and murmured,
"Please, just hold on a little longer."
After all, once you've outlived your usefulness,
I'll crush you myself.
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