Mev held her breath, and Thesaya’s eyes flickered as she brought her cup to her lips.
Ian's eyes narrowed slightly as well.
Then that really means Hyked…
What surfaced in his mind was the vision he had seen—the capital swallowed by darkness.
In the meantime, Seras looked back at Thesaya and Mev and said, "You aren't as surprised as I expected. That surprises me. If anything, it seems you are more curious about why I have such an absolute certainty."
Her gaze returned to Ian again. "You kept my secret even from those closest to you, Agent of the Saint."
It wasn’t something that needed mentioning.
Ian shrugged and lifted his wine cup.
Seras, who smiled faintly, then looked away as she said, "I occasionally have prophetic dreams."
Thesaya’s eyes widened.Watching her put down her cup, Seras calmly added, "Only of moments where fate forks—visions of what happens if the wrong choice is made."
To reveal all her cards without even being asked....
Ian stifled a quiet scoff as he drank. The way she instinctively headed for the seat at the head of the table made him think she hadn’t changed at all. But it turned out she hadn’t forgotten the lessons she’d learned back when she traveled with him.
"It is not a practical and outstanding ability like yours, Agent of the Saint. I can’t clearly see what choice I make, nor can I grasp the full consequences."
Indeed. Perhaps sitting at the head of the table was her way of being considerate. If a royal humbled themselves too much, it would only make those around them uncomfortable.
"I only glimpse a very brief moment. And I can’t control when it happens."
"Even so," Thesaya replied smoothly, "it’s a remarkable gift, Your Highness."
The corners of her mouth drew a meaningful arc.
"I finally understand the secret behind how you made the Third Prince into the brightest star."
"The Agent of the Saint gave decisive help. My brother and I merely benefited from it."
"You are too humble," said Ian. "I merely fulfilled a request. It wouldn't have happened if Your Highness hadn't slipped out of the capital and visited me personally."
Asme and Phaden nodded slightly in agreement.
As Seras’s red eyes curved slightly, Ian added, "Let’s stop with the embarrassing praise. Exactly what kind of dream did you have?"
"The sky beyond the capital was covered in dark, bluish shadows. The land shook, and screams echoed everywhere." Seras hesitated, then said in a subdued voice.
Her gaze, fixed on her cup, was as heavy as her tone. "The outer walls of the capital collapsed, and through the breach, waves of that dark tide poured in. That was all I saw. An omen so ominous… I couldn’t even bring myself to speak of it aloud."
Seras’s fingers holding the cup twitched anxiously.
She likely hadn’t told a soul back in the capital. At most, she must have confided in Phaden and Asme only after setting out for this place.
"That’s why I couldn’t help but wait for you, Agent of the Saint. Of course, Sir Mukapa and the others arrived in your stead."
"In any case, you’ve learned the truth," Ian said, lifting his cup again.
Seras nodded. "Yes. It felt as though everyone’s faith was finally rewarded. Though in truth, none of us truly believed it would be, or even wished for it."
She was referring to Hyked’s survival. Chuckling low at the biting expression, Ian brought the cup to his mouth. He still had some thoughts to organize. After all, he had seen far more futures than Seras.
"May I ask a question, Your Highness?" Thesaya broke the brief silence.
Seras turned to her. "Go ahead. Elder."
"If it were a surprise attack, it might be different. But doesn't His Majesty the Emperor know of Prince Hyked's existence now?" Thesaya asked. Her tone was calm, unchanged, betraying neither fear nor tension.
"Yet, how could they reach the capital? Even if Prince Hyked and his legion are elites refined in the Black Lands, there would be limits to facing the elites of the Central region."
Thesaya, looking into Seras’s eyes for a moment, bowed her head slightly.
"Since you must have pondered this for a long time, I thought perhaps Your Highness might know the answer."
Ian’s eyes shifted to Seras as well.
After a brief silence, Seras picked up her cup and said, "I thought so too, at first. But once I paid closer attention, things I had ignored… no, things I had taken for granted and never questioned, stood out."
She paused and brought the cup to her lips. For a while, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire.
At last, lowering her cup, Seras continued with a quiet sigh, "The royal family, along with the Great Church, has controlled the feudal lords through fear, putting forward justifications like the Martyrdom Expedition. However, now that the Black Wall is gone, that method no longer holds. Perhaps... those who left are returning."
It was a tone like confessing a sin.
Phaden let out a low, uncomfortable hum, while Thesaya nodded. Ian agreed as well. Not just Orendel, but also the South and the Archipelago seemed to harbor different thoughts. It wouldn't be strange at all if similar situations were unfolding across the entire Empire.
"Besides, the relationship between Father and the Great Church could hardly be called good, even as empty words. The Great Church may try to act independently once civil war begins."
Looking back at Ian, Seras lowered her voice as if whispering, "And the Round Table Council, which has been operating in the shadows within the Church, could easily exploit such chaos."
Ian nodded calmly. Those fanatics were always spouting nonsense about the inevitable darkness. They might consider the returning Dark Prince as the messenger bringing that darkness.
Of course, such thinking only worked because they believed the capital itself would never fall—that the Heavens would never abandon them.
"Have you uncovered who they really are?" Ian asked.
Seras shook her head. "I haven’t. But Sir Philip likely has. He said knowing alone could be dangerous. So I didn't ask anymore either."
Ian’s lips twitched faintly. It must have been a decision made for Philip’s own survival—one that spoke to how many dangers he’d already faced.
"That’s also why I didn’t tell my father about my visions. I feared it would only invite greater, unpredictable turmoil."
She cradled her cup, almost speaking to herself.
"In any case, if the cracks in the Empire deepen because of this civil war… then even an overwhelming difference in strength… perhaps…"
Unable to finish her sentence, Seras brought the cup to her mouth again. While Ian nodded and picked up the wine bottle, Seras put down her cup and let out a long sigh.
Despite having already drained nearly half a cup of strong liquor, her eyes showed no trace of intoxication.
"And I don’t think my father doubts you, Agent of the Saint," said Seras.
Ian looked at her while tilting the wine bottle.
"He must have been afraid that you would refuse his call. If that fact became known, the cracks in the Empire would surface much faster."
Ian’s eyes narrowed. It was a reasonable deduction he hadn't thought of. Of course, that too was an extension of distrust. Ian smacked his lips soundlessly and put down the wine bottle.
"But if the Agent of the Saint—the Dragon Slayer, the Demigod of the North—were to stand with the royal family, then every crack would be sealed."
Unable to hide the desperation in her eyes, Seras said, "So please… become the light of the Empire that drives away its darkness, Agent of the Saint."
It wasn't because her persuasion worked that Ian’s eyes twitched. It was because a quest window appeared before his eyes.
[Light of the Empire.]
It was a quest completed by stopping the Dark Prince before the Empire fell. All rewards except experience points were question marks.
Another unwelcome quest.
Of course, it probably wasn't mandatory to complete. If the capital fell, it would likely end in failure.
"If you do so, you’ll be able to obtain anything you desire."
As if misunderstanding Ian’s reaction, enthusiasm filled Seras’s voice.
"You would become the savior of the Empire. You might even come to rule the entire North—"
"Even if I help His Majesty and win, I will not become the Light of the Empire or a hero who saved the country," said Ian, closing the quest window.
As Seras paused, he lifted his wine cup and continued, "Most of the survivors in the Black Lands are neither corrupted nor tainted. They still consider themselves citizens of the Empire, and they’re counting the days until they can return home."
Seras’s eyes finally widened. Not only Phaden's but also Asme’s eyes were twitching. Distracted by the war before their eyes, it was clear they hadn't thought that far.
Perhaps they hadn’t even known that sane survivors remained in the Black Lands at all.
After all, Simon and Mukapa’s stories had centered on Ian’s feats, on Hyked and his legion.
"The reason I did not deny or stop your words is that you did not betray my trust while I was away. Of course, it is also because I still consider us to be in the same boat," said Ian calmly.
He took a sip, then continued evenly, "However, this is a civil war of the Central region. I cannot let barbarian blood be spilled over a family feud that has nothing to do with the North."
He finished speaking and took a slow drink.
Seras, who had been looking at him with a pale face, eventually said, "Then… are you saying you’ll simply stand by and watch as the Empire falls?"
"Well...." Ian, taking the cup from his lips, shrugged one shoulder. "The collapse of the capital's walls does not necessarily lead to the destruction of the Empire."
He still remembered the moment he had set foot in the Imperial Capital. It wasn't just a space where royals stayed. It was practically a massive magic dungeon and a holy fortress.
Even if the capital fell, it could hold out for quite some time.
And no one truly knew what power the Emperor still kept hidden. There had to be a reason he remained secluded within the palace. Of course, that wasn't all.
Facing Seras again, Ian added, "Besides, Prince Hyked had no interest in the throne."
"He has no interest?" Seras asked, frowning.
Ian nodded. "His goal is to judge the corrupt nobles and priests. And to ensure that the survivors following him can return to their hometowns safely."
Seras fell silent, her expression tightening differently than before.
While Thesaya quietly sipped her wine with eyes full of interest, Seras eventually asked, "Do you believe he will withdraw once he achieves that purpose?"
"How would I know his heart? But I do know this—his way is the only path that lets those survivors go home alive."
Answering with a shrug, Ian met her red eyes. "Do you really think the royal family or the Grand Church would accept them otherwise?"
"They... would not," Seras answered, dropping her gaze to her cup. She knew it herself. The survivors wouldn’t even be allowed to cross the front lines.
"If—" After a moment of silent thought, Seras lifted her narrowed gaze to meet Ian’s. "If my uncle achieves his goal and still refuses to step aside—if he truly seeks the throne, or tries to drown the Empire in darkness… then what?"
"Then it would no longer be a problem confined to the Central region," Ian replied.
It was true that he liked Hyked. But he had never intended to shy away from a confrontation. In fact, it was something he had long prepared himself for. Once corrupted, Hyked would inevitably be claimed by madness someday, just as Archeas had been.
"That puts me somewhat at ease," Seras murmured. She let out a long breath, bowing her head deeply as if it weren't empty words.
Resting a hand against her chest, she looked down at her cup and continued, "But, Agent of the Saint… by the time you come to realize that truth, it may already be too late. An irreversible situation may have unfolded."
Picking up his wine cup, Ian added meaningfully, "Well. I don't think the capital will fall that easily, but even if that happens, it does not necessarily mean the Imperial bloodline will be severed, does it?"
"What do you...." Seras, who was tilting her head, raised her head sharply a beat later.