“Oh.”
Only then did Latian reach for his neck, pressing lightly against the sore spot.
A dull ache pulsed beneath his fingertips—no doubt a deep bruise had formed.
The thought made him feel oddly bitter, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
Just as he lowered his gaze, Claude, who had been looking elsewhere, spoke in passing.
“There should be Healing Water stocked in the palace infirmary.”
“……”
“Use it later.”
‘…Wait, is he worried about me?’
Caught off guard, Latian stole a glance at Claude.
He wasn’t asking directly if he was okay or if it hurt, but something about his words made Latian’s heart tingle in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
Latian stared at Claude in silence.
Claude, however, didn’t meet his gaze.
Whether he was deliberately avoiding it or simply indifferent was unclear.
With nothing else to do, Latian looked away as well and shifted the conversation to another topic.
“Brother, what do we do with that guy now?”
“We squeeze him for every bit of information he has.”
Just then, a groan echoed through the air.
Hughman stirred, his eyes fluttering open.
The moment he did, he was met with the sight of Claude and the twins looming over him, peering down like vultures.
His eyes widened in shock.
“You… you bastards…!”
“No, the bastard here is you.”
Before Hughman could say anything else, Haen roughly grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his knee into his face.
A sickening crack rang out, the kind of sound one wouldn’t want to identify, and Hughman let out a sharp, agonized scream.
‘Oof. That’s gotta hurt.’
Latian averted his gaze, momentarily avoiding the brutal scene.
“That’s what you get for messing with our dear advisor.”
“You deserve every hit you get.”
‘Though, to be fair, you guys did use me as bait in the first place. But since I agreed to it, I won’t complain.’
“The Duke, was it? Spit out everything you know.”
“He’s a high-ranking noble; I’m sure he knows plenty.”
Haen and Sien flanked Hughman, their demeanor utterly thuggish.
Latian, now part of this so-called gang, stood behind them and chimed in, “Yeah, yeah. Talk. Spill it.”
“……”
Hughman scowled, his lips pressed tightly together.
Blood dripped steadily from his nose, yet he refused to speak, only glaring at them with unwavering defiance.
His loyalty was commendable.
“Guess threats alone won’t work.”
“What should we do, Lord?”
Sien and Haen turned to Claude.
He looked down at Hughman with a contemplative expression, taking his time.
The banquet was still in full swing, and this secluded garden rarely saw visitors.
Even if someone did happen to pass by, no one in the kingdom would side with the empire.
“They planted a spy on us, so I’d love to return the favor.”
Claude muttered to himself.
Latian’s breath hitched—he wasn’t the subject of that unspoken noun.
It was Lucas. Hughman, hearing this, twisted his lips into a mocking smirk.
“Hah. You’ve picked the wrong opponent, Duke Ocellania. The Empire is like a father to me. I will never betray it! Unlike some people. I’d rather bite my tongue and die first!”
Even without specifying, it was obvious that some people referred to Latian.
Haen must have thought Hughman might actually do it, because he immediately jammed the hilt of his sword between Hughman’s teeth, preventing him from biting down.
Latian, still glaring at him, suddenly spoke.
“Brother, may I make a suggestion?”
At that, not only Claude but also Sien and Haen turned to look at him.
Latian smirked.
“That guy is an elite mage of the Empire. And the Empire has plenty more mages of his caliber. Killing him wouldn’t even make them flinch.”
Hughman, who had just shaken off the sword hilt, barked out a laugh.
“Exactly! You understand now, don’t you? You can’t do a damn thing to me!”
“But if we don’t kill him and use him instead, that changes things.”
“You think I’d ever help *you*? Idiot.”
Hughman sneered, his voice dripping with malice.
Perhaps he was realizing he had been tricked, and his pride was wounded.
But it was just the desperate struggle of a cornered rat. Latian grinned.
“We’ll simply make sure you have to help us—by any means necessary. We’ll strip every bit of magic knowledge and skill out of you, whether you want us to or not.”
“!”
“And when that happens… oh dear. You’ll become the very thing you despise—a traitor who abandoned the Empire to advance the Kingdom’s power.”
“……”
“Oh, but don’t worry. We won’t let you die. We have an awakened healer in the North who can whip up high-grade potions. Just when you’re on the brink of death, we’ll graciously bring you back. After all, a valuable asset like you should be kept alive and put to good use for a long, long time.”
The words were polite on the surface, but the underlying meaning was far more sinister.
Hughman, understanding exactly what Latian was implying, visibly paled.
“Brother, extracting ordinary information from him will be difficult. His loyalty to the Empire is unshakable. But if we kill him here and now, the only consequence will be the loss of one skilled mage. The Empire will move on without a second thought. In the end, only the Empire benefits.”
“You filthy—!”
“That’s why forcing him to use his magic for the North is the most efficient approach. And the worst possible outcome for the Empire.”
There was one more truth Latian hadn’t said aloud.
Hughman’s devotion to the Empire was so absolute that it made him rigid in his thinking.
Just once.
Just one single time—if he ever contributed to the North’s gain and the Empire’s loss, even unwillingly…
Even if it was forced upon him, the guilt would eat him alive.
He would be paralyzed by remorse, unable to return to the Empire.
‘Just like in the past… when he took his own life after the Kingdom won the war, blaming himself for the loss. Even though he had once been one of the Empire’s greatest war mages.’
The real use for Hughman would come after that breaking point.
But for now, Latian’s words were still under suspicion.
‘It all depends on how Claude takes it.’
He subtly glanced at Claude. Sien and Haen seemed to be thinking the same thing as they also turned to him.
Claude, watching Hughman with an unreadable expression, finally spoke.
“Sien, Haen. Take him back to Winter Castle. I’ll inform His Majesty separately. If we report him as missing, the Empire won’t have any solid proof to retaliate.”
“Yes, sir. Should we lock him up?”
“Yes. Keep him alive—but only just.”
“Understood.”
Before taking off, Sien and Haen carefully gagged Hughman with a cloth to prevent him from biting his tongue.
Then, grabbing an arm each, they soared into the sky.
Latian watched them go before suddenly realizing something—he and Claude were the only ones left. His eyes widened.
“Uh, Brother? What about me?”
“…Did you want to go with them?”
Claude gestured toward the figures disappearing into the distance.
If Latian had joined them, they would have had to carry one extra person through the sky—without any safety measures.
“…No, thanks.”
Latian responded quickly, but Claude didn’t even bother acknowledging it, as if he had expected that answer.
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Latian hurried to keep up, afraid he might lose him, when Claude suddenly stopped in front of the entrance to the banquet hall and turned around.
“Ugh.”
Caught off guard, Latian once again found himself crashing into Claude’s broad chest.
He stumbled back, rubbing his nose, and looked up.
“Wh-why did you stop?”
Sapphire-like eyes stared straight down at him.
Unable to endure the weight of that gaze, Latian instinctively tried to turn his head to the side, but Claude firmly grasped his chin, forcing him to face forward.
It wasn’t a painful grip, but it was strong enough that Latian had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“You.”
“Y-yes…?”
“Latian Dimerlos.”
“Y-yes…?”
It seemed that getting nervous when someone called you by your full name was a universal experience.
Latian swallowed dryly, his eyes darting around.
‘What did I do wrong this time?’
As he seriously contemplated the question, Claude’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Just when I think I understand you, you do something else that completely throws me off.”
“…Me?”
“Well, who else would I be talking about?”
“Heh. I guess I’m like an onion—there’s always more layers to peel.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
At Claude’s firm response, Latian quickly wiped the grin off his face.
Judging by the serious look on Claude’s face, this wasn’t meant to be a lighthearted conversation.
A strange glint flickered in Claude’s eyes as he regarded Latian like some bizarre, unidentifiable specimen.
“You… just what are you?”
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