Conspiracies and schemes, evil and ugliness—many of them were born in dark, enclosed chambers.
But conspiracies could also be forged in broad daylight.
Like now.
It was noon on November 16, with winter approaching. In a broad racetrack, a fat, elderly nobleman wearing a thick fur stole stood beneath a parasol, lowering his head and frowning.
He watched several horse trainers practicing in the field while tremblingly listening to another nobleman at his left.
After a long while, he finally let out a drawn-out sigh. Looking at an unruly horse in the distance, he curled his lips.
"What kind of royal treasure could have gone missing to make our honored His Majesty seal off Mindis Hall indefinitely? What a pity. I had planned to visit Mindis Hall next week and view Master Colvin's final works."
The nobleman beside him was younger and slimmer. Looking relaxed and natural, he casually raised the aloeswood pipe in his hand and took a deep drag.
"Also, Gilbert hurried to Mindis Hall overnight to report the Lower City District gang conflict to His Majesty," he said cheerfully while blowing smoke rings.
"Really? Since when has our revered Iron Fist King cared about the lives of the Lower City District's lowlifes? If His Majesty possessed even half of Former King Edi II's benevolence and kindness toward his subjects—" The fat, elderly nobleman patted his thigh in anguish—when the unruly horse stumbled and fell onto its forelegs.
"—then why would we have to meet at a racetrack?"
"The Royalist Party is definitely plotting something. I guarantee it won't be anything minor—it might even be a move capable of turning the tables in one stroke." The young nobleman's eyes gleamed as he smoked his pipe.
"Mindis Hall really is a fine place. A royal treasure has gone missing—hopefully it wasn't one of Master Colvin's paintings—which means security there must have been tightened." The elderly nobleman suddenly made a seemingly nonsensical remark.
But the young nobleman understood and nodded. "And I have information that Gilbert has been ordered to uncover the truth behind the theft. He'll be inspecting Mindis Hall frequently in the coming days. With that man there, even the White Eagle won't be able to make a move."
"We can test them, but we can't go too far—we need another method to throw them into disarray."
The young nobleman took another drag of Fessola tobacco, a premium variety of which only six hundred pounds were produced each year. He savored it for a moment, then blew out a perfect smoke ring.
"The Exeter Delegation will arrive within the kingdom next month." At that moment, genuine worry appeared on the old nobleman's face. "Alas, peace between Starfall Kingdom and Exeter was hard-won."
"Yes." Compared to his senior, the young nobleman was unable to contain himself. His sharpness and youthful spirit showed clearly. "If something happens to the delegation within the kingdom, then under pressure from both inside and outside the country, His Majesty will surely find himself in a difficult position."
"If His Majesty handles it poorly..." The old nobleman watched the horse in the distance struggle to its feet, sighed in relief, took a sip of tea, and said helplessly, "Alas, as expected, countries with hereditary monarchies are backward."
The two fell silent for a while.
The elderly nobleman shifted his body and asked casually, "What's going on in the West Ring District?"
"Don't ask me, old sir. You know I hate Magic Users the most."
"Hmm. Then let's talk about the Black Street Brotherhood?"
"Those fellows still refuse to yield." The young nobleman's expression suddenly turned displeased. "They've only been around for about ten years, yet they're already so arrogant. Clearly, they have more faith in the power backing them than they do in us, the 'New Star.'"
"Don't underestimate young people."
The old man spread his lips helplessly, shrewdness and sharpness flashing in his eyes.
"When children try to frighten people—that's when it's truly terrifying."
Compared to the hurried glimpse he had caught from last night until dawn, the Mindis Hall Tales saw in the afternoon seemed larger and more magnificent—and, of course, even more deserted.
The first floor held the grand reception hall, the grand banquet hall, and an open-air garden. It was equipped with a sizable kitchen, underground stores, and even an armory.
Aside from the open-air balcony that overlooked the entire garden ("For your safety, I don't recommend appearing on the balcony or outdoors within the next month." —Gilbert), the vast second floor had three large rooms with different functions: the noble banquet hall, Council Hall, game room, and numerous rooms of various sizes.
Although the corridors from the first to the second floor and all the entrances and exits were lined with imposing armored guards at ten-step intervals, their faces hidden behind visored helmets and every one of them as frightening as a statue ("Although they're the Terminus Swordsmen belonging to the Crescent Star Family, I still don't recommend that you stab them in the abdomen, young sir." —Gilbert), Mindis Hall still looked frighteningly cold and empty from a distance.
But Tales's living room and bedroom, along with the dining room and study where he took lessons, were on the third floor. There was only one narrow staircase leading from the second floor to the third, and eight fully armed Terminus Swordsmen guarded the area around the clock with complete focus, changing shifts every six hours. As for outside the windows and atop the hall, there were supposedly guards standing watch in the open air as well ("With Yordel here, you needn't worry about threats from outside the windows." —Gilbert).
Every dish, from cauliflower and bread to beef and clear water, was taken from the heavily guarded kitchen and the underground storage rooms that had been stocked in advance ("Please forgive me, but I can't guarantee their freshness." —Gilbert). From cooking to serving, everything went through strict detoxification, tasting, and inspection procedures.
Now this was security beyond imagination.
It seemed I was far more important than I had imagined.
Was this what one should expect from the ruling class that held power?
I wonder whether Yala could sneak in with her skills. What if she were a Magic User?
Speaking of which...
"No, that won't do. Forgive me, but I must refuse, young sir."
Tales raised his head and looked at Gilbert, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Everything about you is classified at present." Gilbert shook his head firmly. "If I may be frank, we've already sealed off Mindis Hall, and our contact with the outside world is limited to a few trusted confidants. Under these circumstances, if the royal family suddenly sends someone into the Lower City District's gangs to search for three hidden beggars...whether the purpose is investigation or assistance, it would be extremely disadvantageous to both sides."
"The gangs are nothing to us, of course, but an excessively conspicuous action would alert our true enemies and give them a chance to seize our weakness. Don't underestimate the abilities of those who are intent on digging. Give them a single clue, and they can pull at the thread until they find the source." His voice deepened. "If you want to help your old acquaintances, you'll have to wait until...an appropriate opportunity."
Tales sighed and frowned. He clenched the last bite of buttered bread between his teeth. It was sweet and greasy, so he quickly lifted his cup and took a sip of black tea.
At least the food had improved considerably.
"If you're satisfied with afternoon tea..." With impeccable etiquette, Gilbert took the teacup from Tales's flustered hands and bowed slightly. "Then we'll begin this afternoon's lessons."
In fact, while maintaining his unchanged smile, Gilbert silently thought, Perhaps we should start with table manners?
"Where's Yordel? Where is he?"
"He's a capable guard, so naturally he's always nearby."
Tales resisted the urge to glance around.
After learning that Yordel was nearby, he inexplicably felt much more at ease.
Thus, Tales tugged at the cravat around his chest, which was so tight it made him uncomfortable. Under Gilbert's faintly furrowed brow, he followed him into the study.
"First, Tales, I spoke with Yordel last night."
Gilbert watched Tales stuff himself into a leather chair and curiously survey the study's furnishings, especially the books filling the three walls of bookshelves.
"You're a special child. I could tell from Yordel's judgment and from the few short hours I've spent with you since meeting you."
Here it comes.
Tales still wore a curious expression, but he grew vigilant inwardly.
"But that's only natural. The heir of Starfall Kingdom would naturally be special." Gilbert clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked toward the desk carved with the Nine-Pointed Star emblem.
His gray temples looked solemn at that moment.
"I believe that since fate sent you back to Starfall, she must have made some arrangement."
Tales looked at the middle-aged nobleman without saying a word.
"I have a general understanding of your past. Your days on the streets must have been difficult."
"But please forget that past."
Gilbert picked up a book that had been prepared in advance from the black aloeswood desk, turned around, and said solemnly:
"You will have a new identity, a new life, and even a new name. But what truly matters is the future you are about to face and bear."
Gilbert's bright, piercing gaze shot toward Tales's gray eyes.
Forget the past.
Tales repeated the words silently.
Looking into Gilbert's sharp eyes, he nodded solemnly.
How could I?
Tales sneered inwardly.
"I understand. So..." Tales considered his wording before slowly speaking. "What do I need to know now about myself and my past?"
Gilbert's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly he gave a slight nod. The emotions a seven-year-old should have felt at that moment—panic, fear, helplessness—had not appeared in this child.
There was only calmness and caution. Even excitement was rare.
He truly was extraordinary.
Was it because of his experience in the Brotherhood? Yordel refused to elaborate, but that assassin greatly praised the child's performance. Could the gangs in the Lower City District truly have given him such experience?
Or did the royal bloodline of Starfall, inherited from the Ancient Empire across nearly three thousand years, truly possess something extraordinary?
Or perhaps it was the other half of his bloodline...
At that thought, Gilbert's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
But the dutiful nobleman still bowed slightly.
"Tales, honored young sir, please permit me to address you that way for now."
"You're seven years old. On the night of May 25, 665, you were born at Mann Manor, outside Everstar City, the capital of Starfall Kingdom." Gilbert spoke unhurriedly. "Your birth mother was a noble young lady whose name cannot be disclosed. She died of massive blood loss during childbirth. Before her death, she named you Tales in the name of the Evening Star."
Tales's brows lifted slightly.
"You grew up at Mann Manor under the secret protection of the Crescent Star Family. Another court Female Official and I would visit you from time to time."
"During that period, you grew up under the identity of a child Lord Mann had adopted while hunting outside. You knew nothing of your true identity."
"Last December, Lord Mann died in battle on the border of the Western Desert. Since he had no heir, his property and territory were reclaimed by the royal family. At the same time, I brought you back to Mindis Hall in the Dusk Star District."
Tales listened silently until Gilbert finished recounting this portion.
"And next month..." Gilbert tightened his grip on the book. "You will be recognized by the royal family, the Sunset Temple, and the Starfall High Council as the illegitimate son of King Kessel the Fifth, the legitimate heir of the Starfall royal family, and the sole surviving blood descendant of the Crescent Star Family. You will claim the right you were born with as—"
Gilbert's eyes were solemn and grave, with a trace of worry and sorrow.
"—the heir to the Supreme King of the Starry Sky."
After a long while, Tales slowly exhaled.
It seemed far more complicated than he had imagined.
"I understand. Some parts are still unclear, but I'll remember them firmly. I was Tales of Mann Manor, and I was Lord Mann's adopted son." Tales's eyes flickered as he folded his hands together.
His thoughts rapidly arranged themselves. Combining the information he already had, he pieced together one element after another from Gilbert's account, turning them into useful intelligence.
Gilbert nodded and sat down in a leather chair opposite Tales.
"I'll summarize the remaining details for you and have you memorize them."
"For now, that is your task. Knowing only this will be sufficient."
Just as I thought. Although he respects me greatly...
Deep down, he still thinks there's no need to tell a seven-year-old too much.
Tales's eyes flickered.
"Next, I need to understand your basic knowledge—"
Just as Gilbert was considering what lesson to provide Tales next—basic etiquette or written language—the future heir of Starfall suddenly interrupted him.
"So, we've settled on a unified explanation for outsiders." Tales lifted his chin from his hands while curled up in the leather chair, his eyes gleaming. "Then it should be time for you to tell me the truth, shouldn't it?"
Gilbert froze slightly.
"For example, the identity of my birth mother, and why her identity is so...unspeakable."
"And Starfall Kingdom's difficult present situation, especially the series of problems caused by the succession to the throne."
"Along with the king's predicament, and the enemies and allies we share, both open and hidden?"
"You should perhaps explain all of that in detail. That way, I won't have any doubts during my lessons, and I'll be better able to choose what knowledge to study and what to prioritize. I believe that would be the best choice for Starfall and for your king."
His voice fell.
The middle-aged nobleman's jaw hung slightly open as he stared back at Tales in astonishment.
Did Yordel tell him these things?
No. Impossible.
Tales lowered his hands. His expression was calm, composed, and resolute as he waited for Gilbert's answer.
At that instant, Gilbert felt as if he were looking at Kessel Edi Crescent in his youth.
Back then, the stars in Prince Kessel's eyes remained unchanged, and their warm radiance had yet to transform into the bone-piercing northern wind.
Gilbert was dazed for only a moment before quickly recovering and letting out a faint sigh.
An extraordinary child indeed.
The next moment, the middle-aged nobleman began answering his young master in earnest, with genuine respect.
"I understand."
"I'll answer you at once."
"To save what little time we have, you may ask any other questions at the same time."
Tales frowned slightly.
"Good." He straightened from the comfortable yet unfamiliar leather chair. "Then I'll get straight to the point."
Tales released his extraordinary mind, drawing out all the information and knowledge within it. Just as he had once organized documents, he summarized the important points.
"You said that the Bloodline Lamp was created through a Divine Art twelve years ago. But I'm only seven. Why did you begin preparing methods to search for bloodline descendants twelve years ago? I assume it has something to do with my unspeakable birth mother. Who exactly was she? And after giving birth to me seven years ago, why did she leave me in the hands of a gang? These questions can be summed up as: 'Where did I come from?'"
"Also, Kessel—my father—is clearly still in his prime. Why has Starfall Kingdom gone twelve years without an heir? Why have all hopes for an heir been placed on an illegitimate child of unknown origins? My father's attitude toward me is strange. If it isn't simply a matter of personality, then I have to ask: what exactly was the relationship between him and my mother? Why must my identity be kept so secret? These questions are probably: 'Who am I?'"
"Finally, what does my existence—or lack thereof—mean to Starfall Kingdom? What problems will Starfall face without an heir? Who are our enemies, and who are our allies? From what you've said, the Sunset Temple plays an important role in my affairs. What is their situation? If my identity is recognized, or if I merely appear in the kingdom, what circumstances will I face? As an illegitimate son, what rights do I have? As an heir, what exactly am I inheriting? Taken together, these questions are: 'Where am I going?'"
"Where did I come from? Who am I? Where am I going?"
"Mr. Gilbert, please answer these three questions for me."
Time seemed to freeze at that moment.
Gilbert stared fixedly at the boy before him.
For no apparent reason, an eerie fear rose in his heart.
Ancient sovereigns, former kings of Starfall...
He sighed inwardly.
Is this boy truly your descendant?
What kind of power is hidden within your bloodline?
After a long while, the middle-aged nobleman finally managed to utter a sentence.
"Mr. Tales..." He exhaled with some difficulty and organized his thoughts. "You really don't seem like a seven-year-old child."
Tales immediately realized that he had behaved inappropriately.
But he was already committed.
Well, a prodigy who understands the world is still better than a muddleheaded puppet, right?
"More than one person has said that. If you want to flatter me, you'll have to come up with something more creative, Mr. Gilbert." Trying to ease Gilbert's expression, Tales made a rare attempt at humor and smiled.
Gilbert did not reply. He merely looked deeply at Tales, his gaze lingering.
Just as Tales began to wonder whether time had stopped, the statue-like middle-aged nobleman suddenly spoke and began answering his questions.
"Honored Mr. Tales, first, where did you come from?"
"Everything began twelve years ago."
"In March of 660, Former King Edi II was old but still on the throne. His rule was long and stable, and he was known as the Steadfast King."
"But all of a sudden, the entire Starfall Kingdom was plunged into unprecedented turmoil by an increasingly fierce rebellion, even dragging the entire Western Continent into it."
"War, disaster, famine—that was the theme of that year."
"Many people called that year the 'Year of Blood.'"
"Amid such chaos and bloodshed, King Eddie was assassinated, and the entire Radiant Star Royal Family was nearly wiped out."
"Of all the legitimate members of the royal family, only his fifth son, the thirty-five-year-old Prince Kessel the Radiant Star, survived and was eventually crowned king."
"That was your father, Kessel the Fifth,"
"known as the 'Iron-Fisted King.'"