Turning Chapter 978
“...No way...”
Most outsiders believed the matter of House Diarca’s next duke had long been settled. The eldest son, Kironne, had used his significantly older age to build a far superior network of connections compared to his younger siblings. But Theorado, himself born of one of the Four Ducal Houses, knew very well that age and connections alone did not guarantee succession.
The Duke of Diarca was a shrewd and inscrutable man. Though he appeared to favor his eldest, he had never once publicly declared him as his heir. That alone said everything.
Kironne acted as though it didn’t bother him, but how could that truly be the case? And what about the other siblings, who outwardly accepted the situation, quietly bowing their heads—did they really not understand the implications?
Theorado was certain they did.
They were staying silent only because the current Emperor’s health was clearly nearing its end, and they didn’t want to cause any disturbance until Crown Prince Kachian ascended. But once Kachian became Emperor—once Diarca became unchallenged at the top—they would no longer remain still.
But that kind of fragile peace was only possible so long as the surrounding power structure stayed delicately balanced.
Yet things had begun to shift.
The unexpected scandal and reckless behavior of Crown Prince Kachian had disappointed his supporters.
Meanwhile, the Emperor’s faction—represented by the supposedly dying Emperor himself and the Duke of Peleta—was rapidly rising thanks to the astonishing, unstoppable growth of the Cavalry.
And within the other three ducal houses, excluding Diarca, political dynamics were shifting fast.
Things that were once thought impossible were now happening.
And these changes were clearly working against the Crown Prince—and in favor of the Emperor’s side.
If so, could someone inside House Diarca be trying to ride the wave of this change? Someone seeking to overturn what seemed to be a foregone conclusion, and tilt the odds in their favor?
And what if that person were none other than the youngest son—long considered the dumbest of them all, and never seen as a threat because he’d taken the path of a knight?
“...Hmm.”
There had been murmurs lately that Kiole di Diarca had changed. That he’d matured and grown beyond his former self. Theorado hadn’t believed them—but now, seeing Kiole in person, he realized those rumors weren’t entirely baseless.
Kiole’s eyes no longer had the foolish, vacant look of the past. They now shone with the dangerous glint of a man who had both a clear goal and a realistic understanding of how difficult it would be to achieve it.
Of course, Kiole himself was simply mustering all his courage to speak before his father found out and punished him. But to Theorado, his posture, his stubbornness... it all resembled the Duke of Diarca himself.
Now that he thought about it, Kiole had always been said to resemble the duke most in his youth. And if he truly harbored the kind of ambition Theorado now suspected...
Theorado glanced at Kiole with a probing look and spoke carefully.
“In truth, I had already begun preparing to discreetly send reinforcements to the South, including support from House Ta-in. Including the Imperial Guard wouldn’t be a bad idea. Did you already suspect I might be thinking along these lines?”
Kiole’s eyes widened in surprise before he broke into a bright smile.
“Of course it was you, Commander! ...Perhaps I came too late, then.”
Came too late, he said, as if it were nothing. That one line confirmed it for Theorado.
Yes—Kiole had already seen through it all when he arrived.
To be sure, Theorado asked one more question.
“You’re no longer officially stationed at the Imperial Guard headquarters, but rather assigned to the Crown Prince’s Radiant Palace. Once your medical leave ends... are you planning to step down from that position?”
If Kiole had come here without any long-term strategy, he would choose to resign from his position as the Crown Prince’s personal guard.
But instead—
“No.”
Kiole shook his head with a firmness Theorado had never seen from him before.
“I had thought about it... but I can’t, not yet. There are still things I need to watch carefully.”
He meant, of course, that he was the only one aware of the Crown Prince’s past brainwashing and current unstable condition—and someone needed to keep an eye on him. If Yuder had been there, he might’ve thought this moment was the first time Kiole was actually useful.
But Theorado van Ta-in misunderstood entirely and closed his eyes in solemn reflection.
“So I’ve raised a tiger cub in my shadow...”
“Pardon?”
“...I understand. You may go. I’ll remember today’s conversation.”
“Then...”
“I’ll send the Imperial Guard ahead of the other planned reinforcements. I’ll inform His Majesty as well. But if the information you gave me turns out to be false, you will be held responsible.”
“You don’t need to worry. That won’t happen!”
After all, this was information from none other than Yuder Aile himself. Kiole brimmed with confidence, unaware of what Theorado was thinking about him.
“Kiole. One last question.”
“Yes, sir?”
“You said you’ve been in the South. Then you must’ve seen these so-called new Swordmasters yourself, the ones everyone’s been whispering about. What did you think, with your own eyes?”
Honestly, more than any of the complex political matters, this was the topic that had taken over Theorado’s mind lately. It had been one of the deciding factors in his choice to reach out to the Emperor’s side.
Trying not to show it, he stared calmly at Kiole as his heart beat anxiously.
Kiole’s expression changed. He furrowed his brows as though recalling something, his face going a bit pale, and # Nоvеlight # finally spoke with difficulty.
“...The rumors are true. That’s all I can say. Please don’t ask me anything more.”
He had no idea how much that only inflamed Theorado’s curiosity further.
After Kiole hurried off in his fluffy slippers like he was fleeing the scene, another storm hit the capital.
News spread like wildfire: Emperor Keillusa, for the first time in years, had appeared in a state meeting, walking side by side with the Empress.
And what shocked everyone most—he’d declared with his own mouth that he was now fully recovered.
No one remained unaffected by this.
The Duke of Diarca, the other noble faction leaders—none of them had time to worry about minor affairs. Their focus shifted entirely to the Emperor.
And in that narrow window, Theorado quickly dispatched the Imperial Guard to the South—well before the planned joint support.
And today, he received confirmation: Kiole di Diarca had been right about everything.
A sudden, massive disaster had struck the South.
The Cavalry and Southern forces had successfully defended against it with minimal casualties.
If that were true—if the Emperor had returned to health, and the Duke of Peleta had now become a Swordmaster...
Just how powerful was the Emperor’s side about to become?
Kiole di Diarca—how much had he truly known when he came to see Theorado that night?
And the timing... Emperor Keillusa had made his move almost immediately after Kiole’s visit.
Was that a coincidence?
What if the hands of the Cavalry and the Emperor’s faction—now influencing Apeto, Ta-in, and even Hern—were secretly using Kiole as a pawn to strike at the very heart of Diarca?
If so, their ultimate target was clear...
Theorado van Ta-in exhaled and burned the folded report. Just then, someone knocked at the door.
“Commander. A letter from the Duke of Ta-in.”
“Again?”
Letters from the imprisoned Duke of Ta-in were always the same. Begging for someone to testify on his behalf. Pleading for money or jewels to continue the trials. And still, the man wrote with arrogance, as though nothing had changed.
Theorado never replied.
Though this time, traces of desperation had crept into the letter despite the familiar rudeness.
An old gambler too foolish to understand how irrelevant he had become. People no longer even cared about the Duke’s trial—it no longer made headlines.
If he had moved cleverly, he might have preserved enough dignity to one day return to high society. But now, he meant nothing to anyone.
His own children and House Ta-in’s judges were systematically annihilating him—slowly, legally, socially.
A hunted animal too blind to see it’s been cornered—was there any point in watching such a pitiful thing any longer?
Theorado skimmed the letter without interest and then discarded it.
“I won’t be replying. From now on, burn all his letters without opening them.”
“Understood!”
He had kept the door open, just in case. But with the news from the South, there was no longer any reason to hesitate.
Without so much as another glance at the letter on his desk, Theorado turned away.
***
Sunlight danced across closed eyelids.
Yuder instinctively furrowed his brow—and immediately, the light vanished, shaded by a hand.
The unnaturalness of it made him open his eyes, and there, smiling like a child caught playing a prank, was a beautiful man who greeted him sweetly.
“...Awake now?”
“Yes.”
“No bad dreams, I hope?”
Yuder blinked a few times, then shook his head.
“...None. I dreamt nothing.”
Only then did Kishiar withdraw his hand.
They were in the Southern branch's Commander’s quarters. But unlike before, the room no longer housed the many supplies for treating the severely wounded. Aside from the lingering scent of medicine brought by Inon, the place was so clean and calm that it was hard to believe it had once housed the wounded after a brutal battle.
“...Or maybe it just feels that way because the great Southern disaster has passed.”