Ilias who was behaving in a way that didn’t seem fitting for an imperial member at all, treated Karl with an easy unreserved manner. He gestured to Milton who had been standing quietly behind them to sit, then plopped himself down across from Karl.
“I heard. You’re looking for a cure?”
“Yes. I can’t just sit here and wait to die like this, can I?”
“Right, exactly.”
At Karl’s answer, Ilias fell silent for a moment and quietly studied him.
His eyes, with a lighter red hue than Madius and Eingir’s, looked like ripened wheat glowing under sunlight.
“It’s truly unfortunate that you’ve lost your memory, but hearing you say that… perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise. That’s an admirable mindset.”
Ilias grinned, then glanced over the pile of books stacked on the desk.
“But if you’re looking for a cure, it seems like you’re reading exactly the kind of books I enjoy.”
With his large sturdy hands, Ilias effortlessly picked up three thick heavy books at a time and sorted them with ease. His grip strength was incredible. It was hard to believe he wasn’t even twenty yet.
“Looks like you want to travel too, huh?”
As Ilias spoke in an excited, cheerful voice, Karl finally realized that he was still a young man full of dreams.
“I plan to travel later, once I recover. Right now, I’m focused on finding a cure.”
“A cure from these books?”
Ilias asked as he flipped through books about mysterious lands and strange creatures, ones he had read before.
Karl repeated the same explanation he had given to Eingir. But the reaction he got this time was completely different.
“That makes sense.”
Unlike Eingir, who had laughed as if it were absurd, Ilias nodded with a very serious expression.
He was so serious that it actually surprised Karl.
“You’re not laughing.”
“Laughing?”
Ilias tilted his head, as if he couldn’t understand Karl’s surprise.
“Aren’t you trying something new because the conventional methods don’t work? That’s far more admirable than giving up in frustration or wasting time clinging to something that won’t work.”
“……”
“And how could an older brother laugh at something his younger brother is risking his life for?”
…Big brother.
…No, that’s not it.
For a moment, Karl had the urge to confess everything to Ilias and cling to him, but he steadied himself.
“Cool down… Cool down…”
Ilias muttered this, then tapped the desk with his fingers and pondered for a moment.
Then suddenly, he sprang to his feet and, before Karl could stop him, strode off and disappeared beyond the bookshelves.
Startled, Karl turned to look at Milton.
But there wasn’t anything Milton could say either.
Ilias returned quickly, carrying a total of five books. Two thin ones and three thick ones stacked in his left hand. Then he dropped them heavily in front of Karl.
“If known medicine doesn’t work, what about poison?”
He flipped through the books briskly and held them open. Astonishingly, he seemed to remember almost exactly what was written in which book.
Milton leaned in slightly to examine the section on poison that Ilias pointed out, then shook his head.
“It is a poison that causes the body to grow cold before death, but fundamentally it only works by shutting down metabolism.”
“Then what about this?”
“The skin turning blue and black and becoming cold isn’t because the heat is lowering, but because blood flow stops and the tissue undergoes necrosis.”
It went without saying that to treat illness, one had to understand poison as well as medicine.
These were all things Milton already knew.
Karl, with a praying heart, looked at the thin books Ilias had brought…not the ones about medicine or poison, but the ones that seemed to contain mystical, fairy tale-like stories.
Please… let it be in there…
“Hmm… then…”
Ilias hesitated slightly, fidgeting with the two thin books.
“…First, this isn’t a joke, but don’t take it too seriously either.”
With that, he opened one of the books.
“It’s a story about Kuhaln, the hero of a northern Balturan tribal legend.”
Even hearing that, Karl couldn’t react. The only thing he knew was the name of the cure and what happened when it was consumed.
But the book-loving librarians of the imperial library seemed to recognize something and started whispering among themselves and nodding.
“Kuhaln met his death because of a frost fairy who loved him. He drank from the Spring of Sprouts, whose water keeps the body of whoever drinks it eternally healthy, so even when he was injured, he would quickly recover.”
“Ahem…”
Ilias who was carried away by the entertaining legend was slightly excited and paid no attention even when Milton tried to caution him with a cough.
“The frost fairy wanted to possess Kuhaln, so she stole an ever-burning flame from an underground dwarf and, while he slept, set his back on fire.”
“…Is that horrifying, insane fairy tale supposed to help cure my illness?”
Karl couldn’t hide his skepticism at Ilias’s story.
Wasn’t he just telling a story he liked?
“So Kuhaln writhed in agony, trying somehow to put out the fire. But the flames wouldn’t go out, and because he had drunk from the Spring of Sprouts, he couldn’t even burn to death. Then the frost fairy appeared and covered him with moss she had cultivated, temporarily suppressing the flames.”
Despite Karl’s reaction, Ilias continued the story unwaveringly.
“And she whispered to the utterly exhausted Kuhaln. That the fire would burn forever, tormenting him, and that it would be better for him to die. But dying wasn’t easy for him either, so he fell into despair. That’s when the frost fairy gave him a single, very beautiful flower and said—”
Karl who had been absentmindedly twirling his pen and half-listening in disappointment suddenly widened his eyes and looked at Ilias.
“‘This is the Frostwind Corpse Flower I raised for you. If you eat this, you’ll become ice that not even the dwarf’s eternal flame can melt, and you’ll be able to meet your death.’”
“Kuhaln accepted the flower from the frost fairy and ate it and became ice that would never melt, meeting his end. The frost fairy obtained Kuhaln’s frozen, unchanging corpse.”
Ilias stopped, hesitating for a moment.
Why was I even telling this story?
“…Ah, anyway, I thought if this Frostwind Corpse Flower actually exists, it might be helpful.”
Meeting Karl’s gaze, Ilias seemed to recall Karl’s illness and gave an awkward smile.
Having been quite moved by Kuhaln’s story, he felt a little embarrassed that he had rambled on absentmindedly.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
Tilting his head, Ilias looked at Karl who was staring at him with wide green eyes.
“…How can I obtain it?”
Karl swallowed hard, licking his lips as he spoke in a trembling voice.
“You’re serious? It’s just a legend.”
Karl forced himself to calm his excitement and put on a gentle smile.
“Isn’t it better to take a chance on some far-fetched legendary flower than to just sit here and do nothing?”
Of course, Karl knew.
No. Han Chang-in, who had read “The Iron-Blooded Emperor Rules”, knew.
Whether Kuhaln and the frost fairy had truly existed didn’t matter. What he did know for certain was that the Frostwind Corpse Flower did exist.
After all, there had been an episode where Eingir obtained that flower, saved a dying person, and took them in as a subordinate.
At Karl’s declaration that he would stake his life on a distant northern legend, everyone looked at him as if he were ridiculous. Ilias was no different.
Naturally, none of them even considered that such a flower could truly exist, and even if asked how to obtain it, they had no answer.
But for Karl, simply hearing about the existence of the Frostwind Corpse Flower from Ilias was enough.
He had even learned that it came from a northern Balturan legend.
Then all that remained now was to obtain the flower.
And while Karl didn’t know exactly how to get it, he did have something he could use in situations like this.
Though he was a dying prince with little time left, it wasn’t as if he had no cards to play.
If it were the emperor, that would be one thing. But his mother Violet’s family would have nothing to lose if Prince Karl were to recover.
Let’s use Violet’s family to obtain the flower.
***
“…That… Sir Karl, I think that would be difficult…”
“What? Why?”
Returning to his room full of hope, Karl was so taken aback by Cecil’s response that he forgot to even keep up his act and asked blankly.
“The Felt family… that is…”
It was only now that Karl learned that Violet’s family name was Felt. Still, if they were a noble house, they should have money and influence. So why…
“After Lady Violet passed away, and once they learned that you had fallen ill… the Felt family… well… they were never a particularly powerful house to begin with… and then…”
Cecil stalled for a long while, turning her words over and over as she delayed her answer. But when Karl simply stared at her blankly, she finally squeezed her eyes shut and muttered in anguish,
“The Felt family… they won’t do anything for you, Sir Karl….”
“N-No, even so… if you could at least try to contact them…”
When Karl asked in a trembling voice, tears welled at the corners of Cecil’s tightly shut and wrinkled eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sir Karl……”
“……”
This wasn’t something Cecil needed to apologize for.
Karl realized that the care and protection she had given him were not out of obligation to the family but from genuine sincerity.
The reason the Fourth Prince Karl who was abandoned not only by the imperial family but also by his own house had managed to stay alive until now was because Cecil had never given up on him and had continued to do her best for his sake.
Feeling dizzy, Karl pressed a hand to his forehead.
Come to think of it, he had never properly had a conversation with Cecil.
He had only thought of her as someone who might be useful when contacting the Felt family to obtain medicine.
Absurdly, Karl had regarded Cecil not as a person but as a passing extra.
Even though he himself was no different.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry……”
Overcome with helplessness, Cecil broke down sobbing and collapsed to the floor.
Karl didn’t know who exactly she was apologizing to or what she thought she had done wrong and could only stare blankly at her.
Karl knew he didn’t have much time left.
And yet, seeing Cecil cry did not make him angry. Instead, he felt as though he had committed a terrible sin.
Like a mother who had lost even the last remaining hope for her terminally ill son, Cecil was completely broken as she wept.
It was Cecil who had cared for him for sixteen years in place of Violet, who had died shortly after giving birth to Karl, and to her, Karl may truly have been no different from a son.
Karl felt a dreadful sensation.
He had taken “Karl” away from Cecil.
Only after Karl came to see Cecil as a person did he finally realize it.
He had taken a son away from his mother.
***
Perhaps because of the immense emotional shock, Karl fell unconscious as if fainting, drifting into sleep even before Milton could treat him.
Swallowing her sobs so as not to disturb his rest, Cecil listened as Milton recounted what had happened that day.
Such an absurd story…
Cecil trembled with sadness and pain.
Yet she couldn’t even bring herself to dismiss it as nonsense. Unless they could obtain something as legendary as that, there would be no way to cure Karl.
“…If he gets it and eats it, wouldn’t he just freeze to death?”
“There’s no way to know. To begin with, we don’t even know if such a thing truly exists.”
“……”
“And…”
Milton trailed off and closed his mouth. Cecil already knew what he was going to say next.
And in any case, he didn’t have long to live.
“…Wouldn’t it be better to try anything we can?”
Muttering as if to himself, Milton quietly looked at Karl who was barely clinging to life with the help of his healing magic.
As the imperial physician, Milton was only meant to do what he was ordered.
In a position that served the imperial family, he had to act as though he heard nothing, saw nothing, and knew nothing. Even when he did.
And speaking his own opinion out of turn was not permitted.
“The Third Prince, His Highness Ilias, was quite fond of Sir Karl.”
Milton stepped just slightly beyond the boundaries allowed to him.
It was the first time in his life he had crossed that line, and when he did, it turned out to be nothing particularly remarkable, nor did it feel especially bad.
“Then I’ll take my leave. I’ll return at midnight.”
But that was as far as he went. Milton did not cross the line any further.
But even that was more than enough to bring life back to Cecil’s pale face, which looked even more stricken than Karl’s, making it bloom like a flower.
Cecil bit her lip and quietly paced around the room, careful not to wake Karl. Then, gently pulling back the curtain, she gazed at the evening sky as dusk settled in. She clenched her teeth and stepped out of the room.
Yes, she had to try anything.
Duren loved those who made an effort.
Cecil prayed to her god.
But the god did not answer her.
There was only a single woman there, striving for Karl. A man of noble blood so exalted that she was not even permitted to call him her son.
Though the real Karl no longer existed, Cecil had no way of knowing that.
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