The very next day, those were the words that came out of the emperor’s mouth — the emperor who had personally deigned to walk all the way to the prison. Not to release him, not to apologize and admit it had been a mistake.
“…What did you say?”
An execution ceremony? He’s going to kill me?
Clang!
Haran shot to his feet and grabbed the bars. He looked ready to tear the iron rods apart with his bare hands and lunge out to seize the emperor by the throat.
The knights standing beside the emperor reflexively drew their swords. Could they actually subdue the archmage right in front of them? The thought flashed through their minds, and the tension in the room pulled taut.
But the sharp tension eased almost immediately — the moment the knights’ gazes dropped to the mana-suppressing cuffs restraining Haran’s wrists.
Pfft —
One of the knights let out a quiet, derisive snort. Haran knew it was a mockery of his situation, and his expression twisted.
“Stand down.”
The emperor raised a hand to restrain his knights.
“You may all withdraw. I have things I wish to speak with Haran about, just the two of us.”
“It’s dangerous, Your Majesty.”
“I told you, it’s fine. Even our magnificent archmage is no more than an ordinary human when his mana has been restrained, wouldn’t you say?”
At the emperor’s amused words, the knights chuckled and withdrew without argument. The prison guards watching over Haran did the same.
Those bastards, how dare they —
“Haran.”
Now only the two of them remained. The emperor relaxed his posture before his longtime friend — shoulders dropping, weight shifted to one side, standing in that slightly crooked way that called to mind the mischievous youngest prince he had once been.
“…What is the meaning of this. Don’t tell me you actually believe I tried to harm you? It’s all slander! How dare anyone, anyone at all, do this to me —!”
“Haran.”
“……”
Haran’s eyes, red with fury, wavered. The emperor was smiling. Gently, kindly — the way he always did. Curving those damned eyes of his.
“Why did you have to go and do that.”
“Do what?”
“If only you hadn’t been trying to leave me, we could have stayed friends forever.”
In that instant, a memory cut through Haran’s mind. A conversation from about a month ago, over drinks with the emperor.
‘Less than a year left now.’
‘Hm? What do you mean?’
‘You don’t remember? The day I become a free man.’
About one year. When Haran turned thirty, the contract binding the two of them would come to an end.
‘You sponsored me — a wandering beggar of a child — and in return, I was to give you twenty years of my life.’
‘…Right. Yes. I remember. To think that much time has already passed.’
What expression had the emperor worn back then?
‘Keep your promise. The moment I turn thirty, I’m bolting out of here.’
Haran had failed to read the emperor’s expression, laughing and rattling on with a mix of jest and sincerity. The emperor had been toying with his cup and said, with a quiet bitterness:
‘…Yes. Thirty. Not much longer now. I’ll begin making preparations from today.’
The cups clinked together. The bright, clear ring of it still seemed to echo vividly in his ears.
“I was the one who made you into an archmage, so naturally you belong to me. And yet you dared to think of leaving. That simply won’t do.”
The emperor’s voice layered itself over what felt almost like an auditory hallucination. In that moment, Haran crashed back into cold reality. He gripped the bars tightly and fixed the emperor with a piercing stare.
“So! You locked me up in here and now you’re going to kill me? Was it truly you who framed me all along?!”
“Kill you? As if I would ever do such a thing. You’re far too precious to waste like that.”
“Then —!”
“Do you know what an ego sword is?”
The emperor drew the sword at his hip, scabbard and all, and held it out for him to see. It was a treasure of the imperial family, a sacred artifact — one Haran had laid eyes on once before.
“Here, the gemstone set into the hilt is the soul stone — the very core of this ego sword. It resonates with whoever it recognizes as its master, and grants them permission to wield its power.”
His finger traced over the green gem. Haran’s eyes caught the movement of mana in the air, stirring from the gem as its focal point.
“They say that when a human is shaped into a soul stone, the self disappears and only the abilities they possessed in life remain. You would live on through those abilities, Haran. An eternal existence — not just serving me, but my sons, my grandsons, every descendant yet to be born.”
Ahahaha!
The emperor’s laughter rang out brightly. He went on and on with his revolting chatter — wondering what color Haran’s soul stone would be, saying he wanted to set it into the imperial crown so they could be together forever.
Haran stared at him, his body trembling with betrayal.
“Don’t spout that garbage! A soul stone? Ha. I don’t know how you came to learn of such ancient magic — but do you honestly think someone like you could cast that level of a spell?”
“Ahahaha! Of course I can’t. But, Haran — aren’t there others besides you who can use that caliber of magic?”
“What do you…?”
Something flashed through his mind in an instant. Haran faltered — and the emperor grinned.
“Yes. Those children. Your own direct disciples. Did you think I could have come up with this plan on my own? I know nothing of magic.”
Judith, Natalie, Jayden, Philip, Seta… The emperor ticked off familiar names on his fingers, one by one. Every one of them — Haran’s idiotic lackeys and disciples.
“They came to me in my deliberation and showed me a way I never would have thought of myself. Loyal subjects who researched the soul stone and even produced results.”
His mind went cold. The emperor spread one palm wide and held it open as he looked at Haran.
“Five days from now. The execution ceremony for Archmage Haran will be held. A puppet to replace you has already been prepared, of course. All you have to do, Haran, is pretend to die and become my soul stone.”
“You — you treacherous bastards!”
Bang! Haran kicked the bars. But it posed not the slightest threat to the emperor.
“Well then. I’ll see you in five days. My magnificent archmage, Haran.”
He turned. The sound of retreating footsteps, and then the heavy iron door swinging shut.
“Open this right now! Arfeus! How dare someone like you humiliate me!”
Bang! Bang, bang!
He grabbed the bars and shook them several more times, then kicked them again. Even that wasn’t enough to drain the fury — Haran was heaving ragged breaths.
These treacherous pieces of filth…!
After raging for a long while, Haran’s energy finally drained out of him. He sank down onto the cold stone floor without care for how he landed. The veins on his clenched fists stood out sharply.
The emperor was one thing, but the disciples who had aided him — the anger surging in him at them was just as fierce.
Every disciple he had taken in had been without parents. Most of them, he had picked up when they were still runny-nosed children and raised them on his back.
Those idiots who hadn’t known how to do a single thing — he had taught them to read, taught them etiquette, taught them magic.
He had taught them how to live in this world without parents and still never be looked down upon.
And those little brats, barely dry behind the ears, dare to betray me?
The emperor wouldn’t have been lying. Haran had known him long enough to recognize the small tells he showed when he was being dishonest.
Which meant that what he had said — about turning him into a soul stone five days from now — was also the truth.
That is never going to happen.
To lose his self and live on only as an ability, for eternity? How could that even be called living? He’d sooner die than accept that.
Does he think I’m just going to lie down and take it?
In that moment, something clicked in his mind — like a light switching on. Haran staggered to his feet and pulled at the cuffs with everything he had.
Clank! Clank!
The chain linking the cuffs together rattled loudly as it was pulled taut and then went slack, over and over. But that was all. Despite the force he was putting into it, the chain showed no sign of breaking.
Clang! Clang!
Slamming the cuffs against the wall with full force — same result. Instead, blood ran down his wrist where the cuffs had scraped it raw.
“Hah… ha…”
Damn it. Should have listened to those disciples when they told me to exercise.
Haran stared for a moment at the thin red line of blood running down his pale white wrist. Then his eyes narrowed. The mana he had accumulated within his body was seeping out slowly into the air, carried along with the flowing blood.
Ah… now that I think about it…
In that instant, he recalled something his disciple Jayden had once said.
‘Master, Master! I was reading a book yesterday and I came across this theory — if there are other dimensions of time and space outside of ours, do you think we could travel to them?’
Back then, he had snapped at Jayden to stop talking nonsense and memorize more spell formulas instead. Magic that touched on dimensions had been strictly forbidden.
But on the other hand, he had found the disciple’s question rather impressive, and had quietly done his own research on it. He’d planned to hand his findings over to Jayden once he was a little older and put him to work on it further.
Dimensional transfer.
A magic he had completed after long years of research — dimensional transfer.
But it had only ever been completed in theory. He had never actually attempted a dimensional transfer. Because it was forbidden, and also because —
It requires far too much mana.
Right. Dimensional transfer, even for an archmage like himself, was a staggering spell that would require him to stake his very life on initiating it. That might well have been the very reason such magic was forbidden to begin with.
But so what.
If I stay here like this, I die anyway. No — it would be worse than death.
Haran glanced up at the narrow palm-sized window. The clouds drifting across the sky parted, and through the gap, the moon revealed itself.
Tomorrow will be the full moon.
On the night of the full moon, when the moon was at its most complete, the density of mana saturating the atmosphere grew thick. Lesser mages would borrow the power of the moon to work their greater spells.
Is this what they mean when they say the heavens are on your side?
Haran let out a dry smile. Then the problem was — how to cast the spell.
Breaking the cuffs is impossible.
The mana-suppressing cuffs were made from mana stones used to restrain monsters. It would be impossible for Haran to shatter them by force.
But who was he, exactly.
The great genius archmage always finds a way.
The blood that had been running from his wrist had dried and hardened. The mana had stopped seeping out as well.
He spread his right hand open and began studying each finger with a steely gaze. He despised pain more than anything — but this was the only method available to him.
I will abandon this empire. Without fail.
Before people can abandon me, I will abandon them first. Let’s see how well this empire fares without its magnificent archmage.
Haran brought his finger to his mouth. And then — crunch — he bit down into the soft flesh.
