Karl realized that even while he was asleep, his thoughts were continuing.
His heart pounded loudly. Unlike before, when it struggled painfully for breath, now it beat powerfully, as if proving his life and declaring his existence.
Observing his own body, Karl thought that at this rate he might die.
A blazing hellish heat burned through his entire body, while at the same time, an immobilizing cold froze him solid.
Far from gaining strength from moving between his room and the library, his frail and weakened body was growing more unhealthy and could not withstand the overwhelming power.
Everything was collapsing rapidly and helplessly.
Even so, his heart continued to sing of life. Innocent and unaware, like a clueless child, it alone kept pounding on.
Karl realized that he stood at a crossroads.
A character in the story who had the same illness as Karl had been in relatively better condition. Even with the same disease, there had been a clear difference in severity.
Karl would have died within a month of being born without treatment, but the one saved by Eingir and who swore loyalty to him had lived to the age of ten without any treatment. Even after the illness worsened, he survived past twenty with only minimal care.
And by striving all the more to improve his health despite his sickness, he was able to consume the Frostwind Corpse Flower and immediately rise, spreading his wings.
In contrast, Karl’s condition was far too severe. With a body weaker than that of a three-year-old child, he was barely clinging to life.
He did not even have the physical strength to endure this torrent of power.
The heat and cold intertwined, breaking his body apart.
And Karl was certain that if he wished, he could force this power out of his body, though it would not be easy.
Now, Karl had to choose.
Whether to cast out this torrent of power to survive immediately,
Or to risk his life and embrace it, making it his own.
The reason Karl could not bring himself to expel this power right away was because he desperately needed it.
The character in the story had been able to unleash an immense amount of mana after being cured of the illness and fight freely, all thanks to this power.
The author had gone on about the harmony of yin and yang, but that didn’t matter. In any case, it meant gaining tremendous power.
Karl was originally meant to die. But he would defy everyone’s expectations and survive.
He wouldn’t be able to avoid the attention of Emperor Madius and the protagonist Eingir.
Karl had been focused solely on curing his illness to survive, but even if he lived like this, without any power, he would only be pushed around and eventually die without accomplishing anything.
Even if Madius could be set aside, Eingir, once he became emperor, resolved to personally kill all his siblings to eliminate any future threats. No matter what happened, no matter how far he ran, in the end Eingir’s scythe would come to reap Karl’s neck.
He was the kind of man who would even kill a baby that hadn’t yet taken its first steps. There was no way he would spare Karl.
So if he gave up this power here, even if he survived, he would only return to a life with a death sentence hanging over him.
Karl made his decision.
He would take the power.
Risking his life just to survive was a contradiction.
But if stopping here meant falling behind and dying anyway, then he would keep running.
Karl did everything he could to control the two clashing forces.
Like two serpents entangled, biting and coiling around each other, heat and cold assaulted one another, shattering Karl’s body.
His blood vessels swelled, and the thinner ones, unable to endure, burst one after another.
Karl couldn’t breathe. The fiercest current raged in his chest, and his lungs had been ruined.
But before Karl could suffocate to death, something entered his chest and began to heal his wounds.
“Milton.”
Barely clinging to life thanks to Milton’s magic, Karl realized that he could feel mana.
He set aside his attempt to control the power and instead observed how Milton’s mana moved, how it functioned, how it healed him.
Following the way Milton’s mana flowed, Karl slowly began to guide the force that was tearing his body apart.
Unlike before, when he had tried to pull it in by sheer force, Karl now read the movement of the power, awkwardly tugging and guiding it along the path it seemed to want to take.
There was progress. But the power was still breaking his body. It was just slightly less violent than before.
Milton’s mana gradually began to fade.
Milton had already consumed too much mana before Ilias arrived. He could no longer heal Karl.
“Is this the end? Am I really going to disappear like this, without being able to do anything?”
Karl sank into deep despair.
He had struggled so desperately to survive, only to die like this, unable to overcome even his illness?
Would he fade away into a single passing sentence in Eingir’s thoughts, forgotten forever?
I want to live.
I want to live so desperately that it feels beyond my control.
Just then, Karl suddenly felt something gently brushing against his forehead.
A touch that was incredibly tender, warm, and more desperate than his own.
That trembling hand stroked his forehead, carefully wiped the corners of his eyes, and traced down along his cheek.
Karl heard a whisper.
“Karl…”
He could hear Cecil’s voice as she was praying.
At that moment, Karl realized that all his efforts to control the power had been meaningless.
Everything had been given to him from the very beginning.
Instead of focusing on the power or trying to forcefully seize it, Karl entrusted everything to the beating of his heart, which sang of life on its own.
Even as his entire body was torn apart, his heart alone continued to beat. It merged the two opposing forces that were cancelling and amplifying each other into one harmonious flow. This power soon circulated his body quietly, like a great, steady river.
And that power did not simply circulate through him.
Perhaps influenced by how he had sensed and followed Milton’s mana, it began to soothe Karl’s shattered body, like Milton’s healing magic.
An immense power seeped into every single cell of Karl’s body.
In the end, not even a trace of that power remained.
But Karl’s body had been completely healed, and vitality overflowed even in his once skeletal frame.
He had survived.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, Karl truly fell into sleep.
Amid deep relief, he heard Cecil’s sobs.
It was unmistakably his mother’s voice.
***
When Karl opened his eyes, the first thing he saw, as expected, was Cecil’s wide astonished eyes.
“Shh, Cecil. I’m okay.”
Seeing Cecil draw in a deep breath, about to call for Milton, the imperial physician, Karl reached out and grabbed her arm.
And then both Karl and Cecil were startled.
Karl’s frail hand, which had barely been able to hold even a pen or a sheet of paper, now gripped Cecil with unimaginable strength, pulling her back down.
“…Ah!”
Karl hastily pulled his hand back. Cecil’s forearm, which had been exposed as she rolled up her sleeves to wipe his body, instantly flushed red.
Karl quickly tried to get up to check her arm, but before he could, Cecil clutched her reddened, aching arm and suddenly burst into tears.
“Sir Karl… you’re healthy now….”
Her arm had nearly been broken just moments ago, yet she said that as she wept.
Karl, half-rising awkwardly, watched Cecil bury her face in her hands and cry, then slowly opened his arms and carefully embraced her.
He could feel her stiffen in surprise.
“Thank you, Cecil. I was able to make it this far thanks to you.”
At those words, Cecil bit her lip tightly, trying to hold back her sobs. But in the end, she couldn’t and she threw her arms around Karl.
Cecil buried her face in Karl’s small, frail shoulders. He was a head shorter than her and cried uncontrollably.
Karl awkwardly patted her back, then as Milton opened the door at the sound of crying he desperately blinked at him, signaling for help.
Milton, the perceptive imperial physician, was a man who always knew exactly what to do in any situation.
Reading the room instantly, Milton quietly closed the door and left.
As Karl did his best to soothe Cecil, who was sobbing like a child, he buried his frustration with Milton deep inside.
Karl….no, Han Chang-in had no memory of ever comforting a crying woman. Perhaps Han Chang-in had once comforted his mother, but Karl couldn’t recall anything about his family.
Cold sweat trickled down his back. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.
Fortunately, Cecil calmed down quickly.
Still, an awkward air lingered between them. Too distant to call it familial, yet far too close to call them strangers.
To ease the tension, they talked at length.
Karl became so absorbed in the conversation that he couldn’t even reflect on his own condition.
For a single day, just a brief moment late at night, Karl was able to spend time in peace, free from the fear of death.
***
News of Karl’s dramatic recovery spread quickly. Everyone had expected him to die, so his survival became an even bigger issue.
And overall, this was very bad news.
For Karl, for the other princes, and for the nobles aligned with them.
However, for Ilias who wanted to leave the imperial palace and travel the world as soon as possible, it was not necessarily bad news. He didn’t care who became emperor.
In fact, though it seemed unlikely, he thought it might even be better if Karl became emperor. At the very least, it would be preferable to the rigid first prince Valos taking the throne.
If Valos became emperor, Ilias might be forced to stay and be granted a territory, bound to carry out official duties.
It seemed Valos wanted to place Ilias in the eastern part of the empire to fend off attacks from the East, but that was out of the question. He absolutely refused.
As for Eingir, Ilias honestly had no idea what he was thinking. Still, there was something unsettling about him, which made Ilias uncomfortable. Valos was better than Eingir, and Karl would be better than Valos.
But Karl had neither power nor any foundation. In that case, supporting Valos would be the best choice.
The reason Ilias was agonizing over the imperial succession like this was because Madius still had not appointed a crown prince.
From the fifth prince onward, they were too young to matter, but up to the fourth prince, they were already adults, and the age gaps between them were not significant.
If a struggle for the throne were to break out, the power of the imperial family would weaken. Therefore, it was only right to appoint a crown prince as soon as possible and consolidate power, yet for some reason, Madius remained silent.
Ilias, along with most of the other nobles, believed that the first prince Valos should rightfully become emperor.
Eingir was publicly known as a lazy pleasure-seeker; Ilias, although widely recognised for his abilities, had no interest in power or politics; and Karl was weak and had no support.
Moreover, Valos was already governing state affairs as Madius’s proxy and even conducting inspections in distant frontier regions to strengthen the imperial authority.
“So don’t do anything pointless. Got it? When Brother Valos returns, go straight to him and make it clear that he should be the one to become emperor.”
Worried that Karl might do something reckless and create a troublesome situation, Ilias sought him out first to give this warning.
“His Majesty will try to probe you. Absolutely do not even make eye contact. Just keep your mouth shut and say you can’t do it, that you want to leave and live freely. Oh, and be careful about women. If you have a child, the line of succession could continue and get you entangled in ways you don’t want.”
Ilias repeated his warning.
Though it was partly for his own sake, Ilias was fundamentally a good-natured and straightforward man, and his concern for Karl showed.
However, those words were only possible because he did not know that Karl had already faced Madius’s gaze head-on without flinching.
Madius had arranged everything to pit the princes against one another.
To move Eingir who was by far the most outstanding among the princes yet uninterested in power, he had even gone so far as to have Empress Minerva assassinated and then manipulated events so that Eingir could uncover the truth.
Madius may have seen potential in Karl. If so, he would try to hold onto him and ensure he could not simply walk away.
Just as he had taken Ilias’s mother Adne hostage, ensuring that Ias could never leave the imperial palace in the end.
“Yes, brother. Thank you for the advice.”
Karl smiled politely and expressed his gratitude for Ilias’s words.
If Karl tried to run, what kind of dreadful scheme would Madius weave to trap him in his web?
Karl glanced at Cecil, who stood a short distance away, her reddened eyes fixed on him with warmth.
Just seeing Karl stand up on his own that morning had been enough to bring her to tears. She had cried so much over trivial things throughout the morning that there had even been concern about dehydration.
Karl steeled himself.
Before Madius could make his move, Karl had to act first and make his intentions clear.
However, before Karl could do anything, Madius, the great emperor of the thousand-year empire, made the first move.
Madius, overjoyed at Karl’s recovery from his long illness, decided to hold a celebration in his honor. Officially.
Madius was not the kind of man to feel anything like paternal affection.
He remembered the look in Karl’s eyes that day.
Those eyes like a starving beast. A burning desire for life. An unshakable will.
And Madius, like Eingir, had also seen the writing Karl produced while researching materials to build his alibi.
A piece written by an ignorant and incompetent child who should have learned nothing. Yet it was clear, methodical, and drove forward with unwavering logic in a single direction.
Madius already knew.
Even without any manipulation on his part, Karl would step into the struggle for the throne.
But if it was going to happen anyway, it was better to make it certain.
The emperor of the thousand-year empire watched Karl closely, looking down on everything from the throne that existed for him alone.
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