CHAPTER 071
Thud.
As Emperor Maxwell and Count Coralde stepped into the cell, the heavy sound of the iron door closing echoed behind them.
Clomp, clomp.
The sound of footsteps descending the stairs could be heard as the two guards who had been standing watch at the cell door obeyed the Emperor's command and left.
A damp, moldy smell filled their nostrils.
A few more steps brought them to another low door, its frame barely visible in the dim light of a nearby torch. The inside, visible through a narrow slit likely used to pass in food, was pitch dark.
Count Coralde took the key from the guards and unlocked the rusty door, which had not been opened in 25 years. He pushed it open, putting his shoulder into it as it creaked and scraped against the floor.
The Count entered first, and the Emperor followed, bending low to get through the door.
The cell was utterly dark, isolated from any outside light, and barely large enough for two grown men to stand side by side.
The moldy smell was nothing compared to the stench of decay that hit them inside. The light from the lamp in Count Coralde's hand revealed dead rats and cockroaches decomposing and breeding in the corners.
For the prisoner held here for nearly 25 years, beheading would have been a mercy. But the former Emperor had shown no such mercy to the traitor.
The lamp's light moved along the rotting walls, revealing a ghastly figure in the corner.
The man, emaciated and skeletal, with grayish skin like the dead rats, sat cross-legged on the floor. His hair, filthy and matted, hung down to the ground, and he wore nothing but rags covering his lower body. His body was covered in scars from old wounds, and his left arm was missing below the shoulder.
It was hard to tell if he was even alive; his eyes remained closed, and he made no sound.
Suppressing an indescribable emotion, Count Coralde took a step closer to the man who had once been known as the Empire's greatest knight.
"Derrick... Derrick... Do you recognize me?"
The Count's voice faltered slightly before he spoke Derrick's name. He couldn't call him "Sir," as the traitor had been stripped of his title.
There was still no response from Derrick, who sat as if dead. The Emperor's red eyes bored into the man from behind Count Coralde.
Crunch.
The Emperor stepped forward, crushing something underfoot—either a bone or a piece of pottery.
His red lips parted, and a cold, emotionless voice filled the room, a chilling aura spreading.
"Twenty-five years rotting in this hell, and you've forgotten how to show respect to your Emperor."
At the sound of the Emperor's voice, the man's eyelids, bare of even eyelashes, slowly opened, revealing pitch-black eyes.
The moment he opened his eyes, all signs of weakness and despair disappeared, replaced by the piercing gaze of a wild animal that had survived despite being caged for over 25 years.
He struggled to shift his position, his cracked lips tightening with effort. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he tried to lift his frail legs, looking as though he might collapse at any moment.
Count Coralde moved to help the struggling prisoner, but the Emperor extended an arm to stop him, his red eyes mercilessly watching the man before him.
How much time passed, who could say? The prisoner managed to kneel on one knee, adopting the posture of a knight paying homage to his liege, his head bowed low.
This was the moment he had endured all those years of torment for—to greet his lord.
His voice, rough and metallic, echoed across the stone floor like a last, rasping breath.
"Derrick Che Beoreur, at Your Majesty's service."
***
The old prisoner, who had lost even his name, believed that if Luca's son became Emperor and came to see him, it would be for one of two reasons.
If the Emperor had come to behead the cowardly prisoner who had failed to protect his father, he was ready to lay down his life willingly.
**Translation:**
The implication was that the Emperor had escaped the curse, so he thought he could rest in peace.
But if the Emperor had come to this hell because he needed him...
He had endured countless tortures and pains to avoid losing his memory so he could tell him.
For Crown Prince Luka.
To keep the oath he had made to him as a subject.
A prisoner who seemed miraculously sane despite the 25 years of suffering began to speak about the Emperor's father.
"The curse of Crown Prince Luka began when His Highness turned twenty-one..."
Crown Prince Luka led the army to suppress the rebellion in the southern regions and, within half a year, achieved a great victory, showcasing his dignity as the next emperor to the world.
On a particularly hot summer night when the white moon was eclipsed by the black moon and everyone was drunk with victory, the Crown Prince first encountered his curse.
The old prisoner's eyes squinted as he vividly remembered the Crown Prince's image, driven by pain and fear, banging his head against a rock as if it were yesterday.
To Derek, who had been a lonely orphan, Crown Prince Luka was both a mentor, a brother, and his lord.
Derek lost his left arm saving the Crown Prince in the war they fought together, and the Crown Prince lost an eye saving Derek.
The reason he became the captain of the Crown Prince's guard unit upon returning to the palace was to protect the cursed Crown Prince.
For five years, the Crown Prince and his close associates traveled far and wide, researching and investigating the curse of the black panther.
"Does that mean there are people besides you who know about my father's curse?" the Emperor asked, to which the prisoner nodded slowly.
"Sir Jacob and Sir Peter, whom he was closest to since childhood. They were inseparable even at the aristocratic academy where I taught the sword for two years."
The Emperor frowned momentarily as if he had been struck on the back of his head.
He had thought it odd for a moment.
When he had turned into a black panther and faced the two knights armed with bows and swords, they hesitated to attack.
Even though it would have been greatly advantageous for them.
He had thought at the time that they were momentarily paralyzed by the fear of suddenly encountering a beast...
But the truth was, they had thought the black panther might be their friend, Crown Prince Luka, or even Maxwell.
"When I was young, they didn't return to the palace and instead traveled the far reaches of the continent..."
The prisoner finished the Emperor's sentence.
"It was to find Crown Prince Luka. And to continue investigating the curse."
Honestly, the reason the Emperor had not opened his heart to Sir Jacob and Sir Peter...
This was because, during the time when the powerless and young Maxwell most needed his father's closest friends, they were not by his side.
Thinking they had not returned to the palace to avoid the eyes of his grandfather, the Emperor, and his uncle, the regent, he had secretly scoffed when they pledged their loyalty.
Now that he thought about it after the Emperor had first been cursed and was confused, not knowing when he might turn into a beast, it was Sir Jacob who had told him about the white moon and the black moon.
"I've observed that you seem to transform when the full white moon is eclipsed by the black moon, once a month."
Remarkably, he had been right.
He had thought it was just a sharp observation, but Sir Jacob had known about the curse of Crown Prince Luka and had spoken from experience.
The one who first mentioned Lake Inis was... Sir Peter.
"I've heard that hot spring water can calm the agitation of beasts and bring them psychological stability. How about preparing a refuge at Lake Inis?"
Sir Peter had subtly conveyed the fact that the hot spring water at Lake Inis was highly effective in calming the beastly Crown Prince Luka.
"That evening, Crown Prince Luka was preparing to go into the forest. It was the night when the full white moon would disappear. But several assassins sent from another country attacked His Highness's palace."
The old prisoner, still kneeling before the Emperor in knightly fashion, spoke in a low voice.
The Emperor had been on holiday by the seaside with his newly-wed second wife, and the palace was busy preparing for the first birthday of Prince Maxwell.
There was a traitor in the Crown Prince's quarters, and the assassins, disguised as maidservants, had opened the entrance to the palace.
"When I arrived, it was already..."
The prisoner couldn't finish his sentence, so the Emperor spoke coldly instead.
"Crown Prince Luka, having transformed into a beast, killed not only the assassins but everyone around. Is that correct?"
The prisoner reluctantly nodded at the Emperor's words and shouted.
"It wasn't His Highness's fault. His Highness drew his sword to protect the Crown Princess and their son. Under the white moon, eclipsed by the black moon, he transformed into the cursed form."
The prisoner added with an unwavering voice.
"Until then, His Highness had never harmed a human."
The Emperor knew this.
Even in his beastly form, Crown Prince Luka must have fought with all his might to retain his humanity.
The Emperor's jaw tightened.
Just like him.
No one would know how precarious and desperate a mental tug-of-war it was.
Furthermore, a beast, when attacked, instinctively retaliates.
It kills mercilessly, with no hesitation.
The scent of blood is an irresistible temptation for the beast. It drives them to forsake their humanity in pursuit of blood.
If even a sliver of sanity were to break, the frenzied instincts would turn everything around into a wasteland, leaving nothing breathing.
Maxwell could instinctively tell.
If a beast, having tasted blood, lost its sanity and started a bloodbath, it could never return to being human.
The Emperor's crimson eyes flickered uneasily under the lamp's light, knowing all too well.
Soon, his crimson eyes, finding composure, looked down at the disheveled prisoner and spoke slowly.
"It was you, wasn't it? The one who helped my father, who had transformed into a beast, escape the palace."
The Emperor spoke to the prisoner, who nodded silently.
"If so, then my mother..."
The Emperor paused for a moment before asking quietly.
"Was she killed by my father's hand?"
In the image of his mother embracing the maddened, beastly form of his father, he saw Arabelle, who had desperately held onto him the previous night.
"Was my mother killed by my father who had become a beast? Answer me."
For the first time, the Emperor's voice cracked with despair.
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