Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 88

In particular, the young people born in Sorten had a severe aversion to the outside world. This was partly the result of the parent generation, who had migrated here, speaking to them as if brainwashing them that going out was nothing but suffering.

Sorten was truly like a utopia. Everyone could live in abundance without back-breaking labor, and for those who wanted to work, there was work suited to their level, so there was not a single person with a complaint.

Mariaks, who had migrated here with parents at the young age of three, was no different. Mariaks volunteered for a job serving the Great Mage out of pure admiration and reverence for the one who had created this paradise. Finally, Mariaks entered the palace where the King resided, and not stopping there, took on the task of bringing wash water to the King every morning and evening.

“Mariaks, are you heading into Lord Fergus’s bedroom?”

As Mariaks came out into the hallway carrying the warmed water, one of the King’s attendants spoke as if waiting.

“Yes. It is what I do every day.”

“Be careful today. It seems the guest who arrived last night is still inside.”

Mariaks did not mind much. A single additional person to serve was not such a great matter.

Lately, the number of people visiting the private space of the Great Mage in this manner had increased. To be precise, it would be more accurate to say the Great Mage had summoned them. For Mariaks, who had no talent for magic, it was something to be envied.

“O Great King. I, Mariaks, have brought the wash water. May I enter?”

Mariaks spoke politely while cradling the ceramic jar filled with warm water. No answer came from inside.

It was not a very surprising occurrence. Because the great Great Mage was busy every day, it was common for him to oversleep.

Mariaks soon opened the door and went in. The very fact that the door could be opened this way was proof that the Great Mage allowed the entry. On days when the Great Mage was in a foul mood, the door would never open no matter how much one pushed.

The bedroom was entirely silent and very dark.

Mariaks walked habitually and without hesitation through the darkness, went near the side table where the washbasin was always placed, and set down the jar first. Then, Mariaks strode toward the window to draw the curtains.

“……No.”

In that split second, the Great Mage’s voice was heard faintly.

However, the young servant had already drawn the curtains.

A pale beam of light entered, brightly illuminating the room that had been filled with darkness. That light starkly revealed the tragedy that had occurred the night before—no, perhaps even this morning.

Not far from the bed, a man wearing a blue robe sat kneeling as if in prayer.

“I-I am sorry.”

Mariaks apologized belatedly, not knowing what to do.

The King was sitting not far from the strangely silent guest. He was sitting on the bed with his face buried in both palms, but the face he lifted toward this direction was entirely covered in tears.

“……Ah. Mariaks. I am sorry for showing you such a sight.”

At the sound of the King’s sobbing, Mariaks looked back toward the guest with a bewildered face.

Ah.

Mariaks realized belatedly that it was a corpse. It was no wonder, for he had died with his eyes open, turned so pale that it was impossible to believe he was a person. Furthermore, since he was even frozen like a statue, he appeared merely like a sculpture offered to the King.

“Even though I persistently refused, he continued to share his power for my sake until he became like that.”

Mariaks looked at the King, who was sobbing, unable to suppress his grief, with a daringly pitiable gaze.

“I do not know the detailed circumstances, but it is a noble sacrifice. Since you mourn like this, that person surely went to heaven in peace.”

“Do you think so? Truly?”

Fergus wiped away his tears while continuing to sob.

The face turning this way was eerily beautiful. The sunlight had tinted the man’s platinum blonde hair almost white, and the golden pupils shining through the disheveled hair glowed as brilliantly as if the sun itself had been plucked and placed there.

That dazzlingly beautiful Great Mage shed tears without ceasing. The disciple who had visited him last night and offered all the mana in his body lay dead. It was because Fergus had unknowingly sucked away not only the disciple’s mana but his life force as well.

Lately, he was always like this.