Karnak, Monarch of Death-Chapter 64: The Royal Power Struggle (2)

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.
Chapter 64: The Royal Power Struggle (2)

Karnak had asked for three days to decide whether to take on the mission. He could easily discern whether necromancy was involved with just a glance. Thus, three days seemed like more than enough time to determine if the second prince had ties to the Cult of the Black God. But he was mistaken.

The royal palace of Delastase stood at the center of Drunta, surrounded by towering walls. Standing beneath those imposing walls, Karnak clicked his tongue.

“Well, this is a problem.”

Even with the ability to see through all necromancy, he still had to physically see it first. During the Gelpha incident, large-scale spells had been cast over the entire area, allowing him to detect it from afar. But if it was something subtler, like the cunning use of small-scale necromancy in the Brellant case, he would have to investigate directly to confirm it.

That meant he needed to get inside the palace and see either the second prince or his quarters with his own eyes.

“But there’s no way to get in.”

Karnak had no ties to the royal family, so how could he possibly access Prince Alford’s chambers deep within the palace? Request an audience as a member of the King’s Order? On what grounds? That he was acting on a vague suspicion?

That would not go over well. Whether or not the suspicions were true, such an accusation was bound to offend, and the wrath of someone in power wasn’t something to take lightly. He had no choice but to investigate secretly.

For the past two days, Karnak and his team had loitered around the palace, searching for an opportunity. Predictably, they had nothing to show for it. Back at their inn, Karnak slumped in his chair, shoulders drooping.

“We have to give them an answer by tomorrow. What do we do?” Serati, puzzled, asked, “Didn’t you think this might happen?”

The way he had confidently taken on the task had led her to believe he had some clever magical trick up his sleeve to detect traces of necromancy. The fact that he hadn’t even considered the challenge of getting inside left her wondering.

Is this man secretly an idiot?

Karnak grumbled defensively, as if trying to justify himself. “Well, back in the day, it was easy to get in and out.”

“How?”

The two former degenerates answered bluntly.

“We just smashed our way in.”

“And killed everyone who got in the way.”

“...Oh, great.”

This was why an overly biased experience was dangerous. They could come up with countless ways to infiltrate a back-alley criminal hideout, but it hadn’t even occurred to them that accessing a royal palace might be difficult. Even Karnak seemed to realize his oversight. His expression was sullen.

“Now that I think about it, it’s obvious. But it didn’t even cross my mind until now.”

Scratching his head, he fell into thought.

“What do we do? Should we just take the mission? But if the prince isn’t guilty, I won’t have an excuse ready.”

Serati cautiously suggested, “Why not start by figuring out why the second prince is even suspected in the first place?”

There had to be a reason for the suspicion, and it must have been compelling enough for Commander Erantel to treat the matter seriously and summon Karnak. It wasn’t as if some random passerby had walked up and said:

“The second prince seems suspicious! I think he’s working with necromancers!”

“Impossible! What’s your proof?”

“Just a hunch. But shouldn’t we investigate anyway?”

“Good point! Deploy the King’s Order!”

“That’s obviously not how it happened,” Serati concluded.

Varos shook his head. “Of course, we know that much. But to find out the details, we’d have to take the mission first.”

Detailed information like that was only disclosed to the assigned party within the King’s Order.

“That’s exactly the problem we’re debating right now—whether to take the mission or not,” Varos said. Both he and Karnak looked to be in disbelief, as if questioning how she was oblivious to such obvious facts.

But Serati returned it in kind. “That’s what I’m saying. This give us an excuse, doesn’t it?” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

“An excuse?”

“Do you have a good idea, Sir Serati?”

These idiots... are they really this dense? She thought to herself once more.

There was no need to fabricate an excuse.

“We haven’t been able to approach the second prince yet, so we haven’t even assessed whether he’s guilty. Accept, and report that truthfully afterward.”

It was true that Karnak had proven his skills in dealing with provincial nobles and their affairs. However, as a low-born noble from the countryside, he had no way to access the royal court’s inner circles. This was clearly a mission better suited for a higher-ranking member of the King’s Order.

"See? That works," Serati said.

Karnak and Varos lit up like children who had just figured out the answer to a puzzle.

"Exactly! That’ll work!"

"Why didn’t we think of this sooner?"

Serati let out a deep sigh. "Because you’re always trying to solve everything with lies..."

Varos nodded as though suddenly enlightened. "True, sometimes the truth can deceive better than a lie."

"How is what I said anything vaguely even similar to that?"

At least the hesitation about taking on the mission was gone. Karnak stood up.

"Right, I’m heading to the King’s Order headquarters to finalize this."

Varos paused and asked, "But wouldn’t this affect your evaluation? It’d count as your first failed mission, wouldn’t it?"

Karnak was entirely unconcerned. “So what? It’s not like I’m doing this to climb the ranks.”

***

When Karnak agreed to the mission, Commander Erantel’s face broke into a broad smile.

"Oh, you’ll take it?"

"You’re a bit too excited about this, commander," Karnak remarked.

It turned out that even the ever-composed Erantel had been under a lot of stress.

"There wasn’t anyone else suitable for the job."

Most members of the King’s Order came from high-ranking noble families. The second prince wasn’t just another noble but a royal, and a potential future king at that. A misstep in this matter could mean disaster, not just for the individual but for their entire house. Even those fueled by justice and loyalty hesitated when their family’s survival was on the line.

Erantel had chosen Karnak not only for his impressive track record but because, as a powerless rural noble, Karnak was less entangled in the capital’s politics.

And, of course, the misconception that Karnak harbored a deep hatred for necromancers due to the supposed death of his entire family at their hands made him seem all the more reliable.

Not that there was any necromancer, and that my hatred is nonexistent, Karnak thought, suppressing a smirk. But there was no reason to correct such a convenient misunderstanding.

"So, I’d like the detailed mission briefing," he said.

"Of course!"

Erantel opened a secured cabinet in his office and retrieved a stack of documents. Normally, such files would just be pulled from a drawer, but the gravity of the situation meant they had been kept under lock and key.

Handing over the files, Erantel’s tone grew serious. “This involves the royal family, specifically the long-standing rivalry between the two princes. Handle this with care.”

***

The second prince of Eustil, Alford Ludan Eustil, stood accused of colluding with the Cult of the Black God. The accusation had come from one of Prince Lloyd’s secret informants.

For years, the two princes had been engaged in a covert battle, planting spies in each other’s camps. One such spy, embedded near Prince Alford, had uncovered the alleged connection. An accusation of a royal prince conspiring with necromancers was no trivial matter. Even Lloyd could not act recklessly. Instead, he had discreetly requested the King’s Order’s assistance.

As they walked toward the eastern outskirts of the capital, Karnak explained, "Apparently, they were so cautious that all Lloyd’s side sent to the headquarters was a single letter."

According to information, east was where Prince Lloyd’s spy was hiding.

Varos frowned. "Erantel acted on just one letter? That doesn’t sound like him."

"Well, it was a personal letter, handwritten by Lloyd himself."

"Ah, that would make sense then."

Before becoming commander of the King’s Order, Erantel had served as vice captain of the royal knights and was acquainted with Prince Lloyd. He would have been able to verify the authenticity of the handwriting and phrasing in the letter.

"That’s all we know so far. The rest of the details are being withheld until we take up the mission. They don’t fully trust the King’s Order either, it seems."

Serati nodded. "Cautious, as you’d expect from a spy."

From Lloyd’s perspective, Erantel was a trustworthy ally. Erantel had long been loyal to the royal family and had maintained strict neutrality in the princes’ feud. That neutrality, ironically, made him reliable. This wasn’t just a matter of royal rivalry—it was a potential necromantic threat that transcended political games.

But the entirety of the King’s Order could not be trusted. No one knew where information might leak, so caution upon caution was the only sensible approach.

The three continued their conversation as they strolled through the streets of the capital. The clean, majestic architecture of the inner city gradually gave way to rundown buildings, marking the slums on the outskirts where the lower classes resided. Their destination was a ramshackle two-story building made of planks and logs, standing awkwardly amidst the chaos. Inside, a sturdy man in a deeply hooded robe awaited them, his face obscured.

He glanced around warily before speaking. “What business brings you here, sir?”

Karnak smirked.

For a spy, he’s not much of an actor.

The man was clearly trying to pass himself off as a peasant, but his burly frame gave him away. And instead of being puzzled by the arrival of strangers, he seemed overly preoccupied with watching his surroundings.

Reaching into his cloak, Karnak retrieved an emblem and held it up. “We’re from the King’s Order. Are you the one entrusted with Prince Lloyd’s secret mission?”

Upon seeing the emblem, the hooded man’s tone shifted.

“Ah, I see. So you’re the ones chosen by Sir Erantel?”

Varos raised an eyebrow.

What’s with that tone?

For a spy, his manner of speaking was oddly authoritative. It wasn’t exactly condescending, but it carried a natural sense of superiority.

Is he a high-ranking noble?

That didn’t make sense. Nobles of such stature rarely served as spies.

Growing wary, Varos spoke up. “Well, now it’s your turn to prove your identity.”

The man shrugged. “The only physical proof of my identity is the handwritten letter sent to the King’s Order.”

“So you have no proof on you?”

Varos rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and Serati bent her knees slightly, readying herself.

The man remained unperturbed.

“That’s correct. Which means the only way to confirm my identity... is my face.”

Raising his hands to his hood, he lowered his voice.

“I’ll warn you now. You’ll be quite surprised when you see me. Try not to panic.”

Before the three could react, he pulled back his hood. Revealed beneath was a young man with strikingly dark hair, a sharp jawline, and a commanding yet strangely composed expression.

His confident demeanor was tinged with an air of tranquility, making his presence all the more striking. The moment Varos and Serati saw his face, their expressions froze.

“What?”

“You’re...”

They had never met him in person, but his face was unmistakable. As members of the King’s Order, they were trained to recognize faces using not idealized artistic portraits, but lifelike reproductions created through light-based magic.

There was no room for doubt.

“Prince Alford?”

“What is going on here?”

The hooded man before them was none other than Alford Ludan Eustil, the second prince of the Kingdom of Eustil. The situation made no sense.

The one who had accused the second prince of colluding with the Cult of the Black God was... the second prince himself? And what came next was even harder to comprehend.

“You’re right. This face does belong to Alford,” the man said with a bitter smile, stroking his chin.

“But I’m not Alford. It’s a hard story to believe, I’m sure, but...”

Pointing to himself, he continued calmly.

“I am Lloyd Ludan Eustil, the first prince and rightful heir to this kingdom.”