Chapter 130
Revolts don’t happen overnight. Even the infamous tyrant Yeonsangun ruled for twelve years before being deposed in the Jungjong coup. To rise against a ruler is no easy feat.
Before Jaha entered the palace—back when she was under the care of Baron Palga—the Emperor had been a figure of universal reverence and fear. For a rebellion to reach this point, discontent must have simmered for years, or some catalyst must have accelerated his downfall…
How did the Emperor fall so abruptly?
Lost in thought, Jaha suddenly remembered what had happened at the temple.
The Pope, who had bowed his head before the Emperor, shuddered with humiliation.
Perhaps the Holy Temple had intervened.
For Jaha, this wasn’t an unfavorable turn of events. The rebels would never let her live. If they were hellbent on killing the Emperor’s favored slave, so be it. They might even exact the vengeance she hadn’t yet had the chance to take.
She pictured the Emperor collapsing, struck by the traitors’ blades, blood spilling.
She thought it would feel satisfying, but it didn’t. It was just… strange.
Realistically, the Emperor’s chances of dying were slim. Even with the burden of Jaha, he had effortlessly wielded spatial magic. If he truly wanted to escape, he could easily save himself in this chaos.
As she sat helplessly on the bed, the door burst open.
A maid rushed in like an arrow and seized Jaha’s neck—or rather, the necklace around it.
“Give it to me! It’s useless to a fool like you!”
Reflexively, Jaha resisted the hands trying to snatch the necklace. Bound as she was, she could only thrash, but the unexpected struggle flustered the maid.
“‘Heart of the Black Prince’ will be mine! With this, I’ll never have to work another day in my life!”
Driven by greed, the maid quickly realized Jaha wouldn’t yield easily. Abandoning the necklace, she spun around and fled.
Jaha stared blankly at the necklace she had desperately protected.
Why didn’t I just give it away?
It wasn’t like she could take it with her when she died anyway.
The sound of blades echoed. Armed soldiers weren’t far now.
So this is really the end.
In this distant, foreign land—no, in another world entirely—like this…
The bedroom was empty. Normally, they suffocated her with their watchfulness, ensuring she couldn’t do a thing—yet now, it seemed they had all fled like rats from a sinking ship. Was that why this hollowness cut so deeply into her bones?
Inside the vast, hollow room, Jaha felt loneliness for the first time.
I’m not afraid of death.
But I wish someone would stay with me until the end.
At some point, a downpour had begun outside the window.
The wind wailed like a ghost, and the dreary weather pressed down.
A bolt of lightning struck, its sharp light stabbing through the window—and in that instant, the closed door swung open again.
A figure, momentarily obscured by the blinding flash, emerged from the shadows.
Disheveled golden hair, clothes in disarray.
Had it not been for those vivid violet eyes, unmistakable even in the dark, Jaha wouldn’t have recognized him as the Emperor.
I wanted anyone by my side… but why did it have to be him?
The Emperor staggered forward, step by unsteady step. The closer he came, the clearer his wretched state grew: shadows under his eyes, a pallid face, cracked lips.
He looked like a man who hadn’t slept properly in ages—or perhaps one who’d endured torture before escaping. Either way, this was not the appearance of someone who’d lived well.
Jaha was stunned. She hadn’t seen him in so long, only catching glimpses when he slipped into shallow sleep. She’d assumed his polished facade remained intact. But she never imagined he could be this… broken.
When he reached the bed, the Emperor drew a blade across his fingertip and began painting something on the floor with his blood. Jaha stared blankly as geometric shapes bloomed beneath his hand.
Is this a magic circle?
Come to think of it, this was the first time she’d seen the Emperor draw a magic circle. Usually, he’d just mutter a short incantation—or simply flick his fingers without even that.
The Emperor’s profile, glistening with cold sweat as he painted the circle in blood, was proof of how intensely he was concentrating.
He can teleport without any preparation, so what kind of grand magic is he trying to cast now that requires this?
The clatter of weapons grew closer.
“Find the Emperor!”
The rebels’ shouts and the sound of doors being flung open echoed through the halls. It wouldn’t be long before they stormed this room too.
Jaha had no idea what the Emperor was planning, but it would be better to give up and flee now—unless that magic circle could somehow subdue all the rebels once completed.
“Run… away.”
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, surprising even her.
This is the Emperor. The very man who, whether intentionally or not, had reduced her to this state. He could have just let the rebels kill her and be done with it. So why…?
Because he appeared in this unbearably lonely moment?
The Emperor, who had been frantically drawing the circle, jerked his head up to stare at her. But with no time to waste, he immediately lowered his gaze and resumed his work.
Just as the intruders’ footsteps reached the door, the Emperor’s hand finally stilled. The magic circle was complete.
“A medium… I need something to act as a medium.”
The Emperor, muttering something incomprehensible as he glanced around, suddenly seized the Heart of the Black Prince hanging from Jaha’s neck. Without waiting for her to hand it over, he snapped the chain with brute force and wrenched it free—then let out a hollow laugh.
“So this was what bothered me so much… In the end…”
At that moment, the rebels appeared.
“Here! The Emperor’s here!”
They charged, weapons raised—just as the magic circle on the floor flared to life.
It seems Lady Luck is on the Emperor’s side after all. Jaha didn’t know what kind of magic this was, but the fact that he’d stubbornly completed it instead of fleeing could only mean one thing: he had a final card to overturn this hopeless situation.
She was certain of it—until the Emperor pressed the stolen gem back into her palm. He folded her fingers over it, one by one, as if sealing something precious inside her grip.
“Here.”
His eyes brimmed with unspoken words. A single touch might have shattered the dam holding them back. Yet when he finally spoke, it was brief.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology sounded like a farewell. He hesitated, then forced out the rest.
“I… loved you. Even if it wasn’t love to you—to me, it was.”
Jaha couldn’t process what was happening.
What is this? How did we get here? What comes next?
A familiar energy seeped into my body. It was an intensity unlike anything I’d felt before, but there was no mistaking it—this was the Emperor’s magic. Then, the world spun as if flipped upside down.
When I glanced down, my hand had turned translucent. The rest of my body was no different.
I tried to ask what he had done to me, but before I could speak, a blade burst straight through the Emperor’s chest. Blood gushed out, not even given time to spill before a second blade cleaved into his shoulder.
Then came the waist, the arm, the neck—strike after strike, until everything was blood, blood, blood.
So it’s red, too.
The blood flowing from that man’s body was just as red.
A belated thought crossed my mind—one I hadn’t had while drawing the magic circle with blood.
By the time the Emperor’s body had been hacked beyond recognition, the blades turned toward Jaha. She didn’t even think to dodge, only staring blankly as the sword swung toward her.
I’ll die like this, without even knowing what he did to me.
She closed her eyes, bracing for the pain—but instead of a cold blade, something warm pressed against her.
She knew without looking. Just as she had known even in the haze of half-sleep. A presence she never wanted to grow familiar with, yet had anyway.
A hot breath brushed against the nape of her neck, and as a large hand cradling the back of her head slid weakly downward, Jaha’s consciousness faded into nothing.
◇ ◆ ◇
“Hah—!”
Jaha jolted upright in bed with a gasp. A familiar sight filled her vision—her computer, her desk, the shelves lined with textbooks, her plush dolls.
This was her room. The same as always.
– To Be Continued In Volume 3
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