Merche answered with an enigmatic smile instead of a reply.

Rude, growing more anxious at her reaction, pressed her as if interrogating.

“Why, why are you smiling again? Don’t tell me you’re going to spout nonsense about feeling uneasy about killing that old man now.”

“That won’t happen, Rude. I merely smiled because your concern was evident.”

Still not withdrawing her smile, Merche spoke.

“I won’t sympathize with or show the slightest kindness to Lady Genovefa. We’ve come too far for that.”

Having traveled such a long way, she had uncovered too many of a person’s unsightly aspects.

The unfair deaths that Genovefa had stolen.

The countless lives he had tried to steal under the surface, the lives she had almost lost.

The moment she learned of it, all emotions toward Genovefa had withered away.

Merche felt the change once more.

As Genovefa had said, she who couldn’t easily harm anyone had somehow become so cold-hearted and barren.

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s fine. I got anxious for nothing.”

Rude grabbed Merche’s hand as she was lost in thought.

This underground prison was not a suitable place for Merche to be in.

It was dark, damp, and there was a crazy old man who unnecessarily screamed.

The Merche he worshipped and yearned for was not a woman who belonged in such a place.

“Let’s go. Go up and put something in your stomach.”

“It’s not yet time for lunch.”

“Time doesn’t matter when you’re hungry.”

“I’m not hungry…”

“No. You’re hungry now. So you need to put something in your mouth right away.”

He stubbornly pulled Merche along.

But before reaching the stairs, there was a rustling sound, followed by a cough loud enough to be impossible to ignore.

“Oh my, I’m going to die like this. It’s not my day to die yet…”

Merche, who had been reluctantly dragged by Rude’s hand, halted her steps. At the same time, Rude’s eyebrows twitched fiercely.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait a moment. Someone just spoke…”

“It’s an auditory hallucination. Ignore it.”

Rude knew who the old man coughing was.

The old man had left him with a bitter memory in the past, and so he didn’t want to show the old man to Merche.

He stubbornly tightened his grip on her hand.

“I said let’s go. It’s just a prisoner, nothing special. A prisoner whose head will be cut off soon. There’s nothing for you to be interested in.”

Despite his fierce resistance, Merche didn’t budge.

She blinked her eyes a few times, her eyelashes fluttering like curtains. Then, as if sighing, she spoke softly.

“…Lord Linan?”

Damn it, her memory is ridiculously good too.

Rude frowned fiercely. It was also proof that her guess was correct.

Hayton Linan. The teacher who had taught history to Merche when she was young, and later did the same for Rude.

Also, the one who worshipped the kingdom’s mythology more fanatically than anyone else.

The voice remaining in Merche’s memory and the voice of the prisoner heard from the darkness perfectly matched.

Merche’s face, having belatedly gained certainty, was filled with surprise.

“Lady Merche? Is that you there, Lady Merche?”

As if hearing the voice calling for him, Hayton asked again in a weak voice.

“Lord Linan. How are you here?”

“Oh, my… Gods Nilam and Nisha. Can such a miraculous encounter even happen?”

As soon as Merche approached the iron bars and showed her face, Hayton exclaimed and came close.

In his aged and wrinkled eyes, there was an emotion akin to joy beyond delight.

“I heard news of you, Lady Merche. Yes, you must have gone through many hardships. Isn’t that so?”

“What? Hardships? The one who stole someone else’s belongings and got caught, about to die soon, has a lot to say.”

“…Hey you! I’m talking to Lady Merche, am I not? Please step aside.”

Hayton shouted at Rude, who had suddenly intervened and was grinning, while pointing his finger. Rude’s eyes also became fierce with rising anger.

As if he would snap Hayton’s neck at any moment, Rude’s momentum became extremely menacing. He spoke in a voice that had become much lower, carrying hostility.

“Has this senile old man gone crazy? Do you want to die? I’m her beloved fiancé! So if anyone should step aside, it’s you! What nonsense are you spouting?”

Rude was about to kick Hayton’s iron bars.

Merche barely stopped him and lightly pressed on Rude’s heaving chest.

“Rude. Why is Lord Linan here? Has he committed a crime?”

Ha! Rude greatly sneered at her question.

“Why else? He got caught trying to steal someone else’s belongings. The old man’s got guts. Even with dementia, he thought of robbing another family’s vault. Truly remarkable.”

“…Did you try to enter the treasure room, my lord?”

Merche inhaled softly.

The treasure room. Why would Lord Linan go there?

The treasure room was where all the treasures owned by the Lupinus family and the precious heirlooms passed down through generations were stored.

If he had tried to break in and steal from there… No matter how noble, he would surely not be able to escape the death penalty.

Merche hurriedly leaned toward the iron bars and asked cautiously.

“Lord Linan. Why did you attempt to break into the treasure room?”

Hayton stared intently at Merche.

As if there was some buried treasure in Merche’s eyes, he fixated his gaze solely on Merche for a long time.

“Because the fake one is trying to play the role of the king. So I tried to steal King Iker’s ring and die.”

“The ring… Do you mean one of King Iker’s sacred relics?”

“No. That one is already in the possession of the fake. I tried to steal the sapphire ring that King Iker had gifted to the old head of the Lupinus family.”

Fake. Hayton was referring to Magnus as such.

“Why do you call Prince Magnus a fake?”

“Isn’t he someone who relies on the sacred relics to use the power left behind by King Iker? Someone who claims the power of the sacred relics as his own should rightly be called a fake.”

Hayton’s eyes shone strangely.

“…Lady Merche. You already know that you are the protagonist of the prophecy, don’t you?”

There was no hesitation in his words.

He asked with the conviction that Merche was the protagonist of the prophecy, as if stating the fact that the sun rises in the east and water flows from top to bottom.

“A few years ago, I saw a record left by my distant grandfather. I saw a portrait depicting King Iker’s appearance, and also writings containing his traces.”

While speaking, his eyebrows twisted. It was regret.

Hayton was extremely regretful and also remorseful.

I should have found out a little earlier. I should have realized when I first saw you that you were the protagonist of a great destiny.

He lowered his body to the utmost in a posture of submission. Then he whispered a question.

“Have you gathered all three sacred relics?”

Merche froze like ice and kept her mouth tightly shut. The three sacred relics… The crown, the ring, and the sword.

“I have an idea about the crown and the ring. But…”

“You haven’t found the sword.”

As if knowing without being told, Hayton nodded his head.

He sat up straight again, sitting on the floor without hesitation, and habitually stroked his unkempt beard.

Ahem.

He cleared his throat. Then, as if starting a very long story, he focused his eyes quite clearly on his blurry vision.

“When King Iker emerged from the primordial sea, he laid down all the great powers he possessed. He arrived on land in such a perfectly powerless state, and later regained his lost powers one by one until he became king.”

Hayton raised his index finger and straightened it in a straight line.

“Exactly half. The power on land and the power in the sea. You must regain all the power of land and sea, divided in half, to become king. This applies to you as well, Lady Merche.”

It was a demeanor befitting a scholar who had devoted almost his entire life to the study of the kingdom’s mythology.

There was no hesitation in his following words, and there was also no faltering or reluctance in asserting something.

Merche unknowingly followed Hayton’s words with her lips. The power on land and the power in the sea.

“…Could it be that the power on land,”

As Merche stopped speaking mid-sentence with a strong intuition, Hayton smiled and continued the rest of the sentence.

“Yes. You’re still brilliant. That power on land refers to the sacred relics.”

Because he had imbued power into precious objects made from things born of the earth, it was the power of the land, Hayton added.

“Oops. Before talking about the sacred relics, I should have mentioned this first. You know, Lady Merche. Have you never heard a very strange and mysterious voice while living your life so far?”

“…What do you mean by voice…”

“The sound of splashing waves, the sound of the raging sea. The voice of someone that comes along with them.”

The voice. The one that was often heard in the past and last heard in the primordial sea.

The voice that had given her that incomprehensible advice, the one that had defeated Leviathan and saved her….

Merche stared at Hayton, at a loss for words.

“How do you know about that, my lord…?”

“Hehe. Well, there’s nothing I don’t know when it comes to things related to King Iker in the first place. What else would this old man have been doing, letting time pass by while aging?”

Only King Iker. That was all I had. Hayton smiled deeply.

“But if it’s still hard to understand, I should bring this up. Ahem, well… Do you know who my distant grandfather is, Lady Merche?”

Loke Bahamal.

Hayton whispered a single name. Then, bursting into a hearty laugh, he straightened his bent body.

“That famous historian, Loke Bahamal, whom King Iker especially cherished and kept by his side, engaging in many conversations, is my distant grandfather. What a cunning coincidence, isn’t it?”