Shadow

 Chapter 19

Split of the Crown (10)
The Raid

After two weeks had passed since the beginning of the investigation, Ivanka stood upright in the king’s private meeting chamber, delivering the latest updates regarding the embezzlement case in which Sir Albert was the primary suspect.

“Your Majesty! After the shipment of grain was sent out with its official royal seals, we tracked it through the transit checkpoints. And, as Your Majesty predicted, it did not reach the southern refugee headquarters; instead, it was redirected elsewhere…”

“And where is this elsewhere?”
“… We were intercepted during the investigation, despite claiming to be members of the local police. Even with our forged IDs, they weren’t afraid of the police at all! And they erased the shipment’s record from the checkpoint logs! This means there's an entity or authority higher than the police controlling them from afar, Your Majesty!”

Shadow fell silent for a moment, smiling slightly in thought. Ivanka quickly added, “Your Majesty! I didn’t want to engage them or cause a scene by arresting them. Revealing our true identities as royal guards would’ve been dangerous. The mastermind might realize and make his next move!”

Shadow’s expression softened with rare consideration.
“Of course. Well done, Ivanka…”
He leaned his head on the hand resting on the desk, looking at Ivanka with seriousness and calm at once.
“… Now we have direct evidence of embezzlement. All that remains is for them to swallow the bait.”

Ivanka hesitated, watching the king as if waiting for him to continue. He chuckled lightly before explaining,

“Have you checked the tax records, port logs, and the soldiers’ insignia?”

Ivanka’s eyes widened.
“No, Your Majesty! Even if they hid the transit records, they wouldn’t be able to erase taxation records, economic reports, or port trade routes! And as for the soldiers’ insignia… Your Majesty! Do you believe there are traitors in the army as well? Or do you mean…”

Ivanka suddenly trembled—her eyes lifted slowly to meet the king’s, and her head involuntarily shook left and right in weak denial. Shadow nodded regretfully.

“I apologize, Ivanka… I’m truly sorry.”

“Your Majesty! The Baron family… you suspect them?”

Shadow nodded.

“I wished it weren’t so. But I relieved your brother, Baron the Thirteenth, from his role guarding the queen’s body as well. He has no right to conspire to such a degree.”

“I apologize, Your Majesty! But is there proof of my clan’s betrayal… or my brother’s? And if this was the case… why did you entrust me specifically with this investigation?”

“The soldiers’ records will tell us the full truth. As for you… I wanted to clear your name. You are someone valuable in my court, someone I do not wish to lose… You matter to someone who matters to me.”

He said it with his usual coldness.

Ivanka remained troubled by the possibility.
Baron the Thirteenth … her brother whom she had always despised… Why would he do this?
And why would the Baron clan—Norton’s strongest knights—betray the crown?

Meanwhile, two weeks into their stay in Fristov, Asma and Ivan had successfully located an Agartha crystal inside an icy cave—melted open by Ivan using his thermal shadow.

After retrieving it, Fristov’s workers gathered the crystal into a large trench in the Graive Plains, where Ivan activated it with a Dark Agartha extract, forming the Agartha Core.

Everyone was ordered to evacuate the Graive Plains, three kilometers away from Graive Station—because the core’s heat exceeded a thousand degrees Celsius. Ivan created a thermal barrier using his abilities, melting volcanic ash and silicon to form the malleable material known as hydrasteel, which workers immediately began shaping into pipes.

Asma, on the opposite side, oversaw the excavation machines, which she powered by burning methane to generate rotational energy. By the next week, hydrasteel pipes were installed, channeling methane heat directly into homes.
Fristov—once an eternally frozen city—became wrapped in warmth!
All thanks to a remarkable queen and a remarkable prince.

“Ivan! We did it. Look, I even had a cup of hot chocolate in one of the homes! The people of Fristov… they’re truly kind.” Asma’s eyes filled with tears.

“Hahaha! My lady! Why didn’t you bring me one? I’m starving here!”

“Next time, I promise I’ll make you one myself! But I think it’s time we solve the famine issue. We need to plant!”

“That’s the easy part! Now that we have the Agartha Core—an endless source of energy… And also… do you remember Florinda’s stick?”

“Oh! The sprouting stick! The one you made from griffin feathers! Will it help grow crops quickly, like it did with my wings?”

“Of course, Your Majesty!”

“Well, we have nitrogen- and phosphorus-rich waste from the decomposition system. That’s fertilizer. We’ll just use hydrasteel to create greenhouse glass that absorbs the core’s sunlight-like rays… Then I’ll plant all sorts of crops in the melted snow! No problem—this helps soil humidity, but in moderation! And I’ll decorate the fields with flowers too.”

“Flowers?”

“… Yes! I was thinking of planting Rosaria blooms!”

“Oh! Rosaria! What a beautiful symbol. Rosaria is the flower that blooms in snow despite the harshness!”

“Hahaha! Right? Isn’t it beautiful?”

A warm voice interrupted them—Count Fristov.

“Of course, my queen! What a beautiful name—just like our great queen herself.”

Asma smiled with pure joy while Ivan laughed.

“Oooh! Looks like the old man from Fristov is a fan of our queen!”
Asma playfully smacked Ivan’s shoulder.

Count Fristov chuckled.
“Thank you! My gratitude, Your Majesty! Our city owes you so much.”

“Oh! There’s no need for thanks, Count.”

“No! It is the duty of House Fristov from this day forward! We will support you to the end. Today we officially announced our opposition to the king! We stand with you.”

“With… me?”

“Yes, we oppose the king in anything concerning your Majesty—without rebelling against him, of course. We simply demand that he support and protect you, and preserve your inherited right from Grand Duke Felix!”

“Count Fristov! You knew my grandfather as well?”

“Who in Norton does not? He was brave and wise. House Fristov respects him greatly, even though he was from the enemy kingdom of Gytophos…”

Asma smiled, her eyes welling up. She felt pride, comfort, and relief at the count’s words. She did not push the conversation further, bound by Shadow’s contract forbidding Norton’s people from probing her true identity.

… At night…
Inside a small tavern near the Valembra harbor… corpses of dockworkers lay scattered.
At one of the tables sat a hooded man in military uniform, gripping the tavern keeper’s throat with one hand, and holding a bundle of documents in the other.

“You told me… these are the taxation and port records… Where are the soldiers’ insignia logs?”

He asked with chilling cold.

“Gh—k— I… I’ll tell you… if you let me go!”

The hooded man tightened his grip.

“No insignia logs then…”

He squeezed harder until the man nearly lost consciousness. The tavern keeper screamed, “I’ll tell you—!”

The grip loosened slightly, though the hooded man didn’t bother looking at him.

“They’re not here… they were hidden. But please, spare me! If I tell you, that man will kill me!”

“I’m the one who’ll kill you if you don’t talk.”

“Ah—k— fine! They’re in Duke Albert’s duchy! But I don’t know the exact location. Just spare me—who are you?”

The hooded man punched him hard, knocking him out, then removed his mask.

“You can come out now, Ivanka.”

“Your Majety! What do we do with this man?”

“Imprison him in the palace dungeon under your personal guard. The witness’s life is crucial now.”

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

“Is your team outside?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“I’ll go immediately! Baron will be in the military tribunal hall within two hours. Go to Nixara quickly with that filth.”

“At once!”

Beneath Duke Albert’s duchy, the Norton Royal Army assembled, surrounding the entire estate. It wasn’t long before the king himself arrived, draining all color from Duke Albert’s face. He knew it was over.

With a single signal from the king, the army stormed in. A short battle ensued—every guard of the duke was slaughtered. Shadow advanced coldly through the hallways of the duchy. The palace filled with the screams of women—servants and the duke’s family—who had tried to hide. It was futile. The army captured them all.

Shadow advanced with dark, frigid calm toward the chamber whose door he kicked open.
The duke stood trembling beside his bed, holding a gun with shaking hands.

Shadow laughed—a short, mocking laugh that felt like it melted the duke’s skin from his bones. The duke screamed,

“Don’t take another step!”

Shadow smiled quietly.

“If you do, I’ll kill myself!”

“…”

“I’ll kill myself!” he shouted, pointing the gun at himself.

Shadow tilted his head, waiting.

“….”

“Your Majesty!...”

“Why haven't you fired yet? This is boring.”

“You need me to solve this case!”

Shadow sighed, bored.
“No.”

“What?!”

“I don’t need you. Thank you. You may kill yourself now… but this place is too dull. Could you do me a favor and kill yourself in Valembra Square instead? I don’t want my clothes stained with your filthy blood today…”

“Hah! You must be insane! Do you think I’m the only one betraying you?”

“Oh? You mean the group of idiots you’re helping?”

“So, you do know about Antoine as well?”

Shadow smiled and walked toward Albert. He snatched him by the collar, sending the gun crashing to the ground from the duke’s trembling hand. The duke nearly soiled himself under the king’s murderous aura.

Shadow dragged the duke behind him after breaking both his legs.
He walked him through the halls and staircases filled with corpses of his clan and guards, and through the screams of the captured women. Shadow’s calm, chilling smile never left his face.

He arrived at the square before the people of Valembra and tossed the duke like a sack of garbage.

Shadow placed his foot on Albert’s head and handed him a knife.

“Go on…”

The duke trembled violently.

Shadow smiled.
“… Must I kill your daughter too? Your son already died moments ago.”

Tears filled Albert’s eyes as he lifted the knife to his throat.
“You’re a monster! Filthy bastard—cursed blood! You wretched human favored by that vile Asrahan! He is the one who created this plague! And he worsened it by birthing a hybrid prince! That bastard will never be king! Hahahahaha!”

Shadow sighed, uninterested.
Albert grew more enraged, face reddening, sweat pouring.

“Your arrogance will crumble, you filth! You know what?! Aletheia will destroy you! And your foolish queen! And much of Norton’s people! You outsider… what was your name? Ah! Adrian! Adrian von Falcon!”

Albert pressed the knife hard to his throat, and before slicing it open—

“Goodbye, you wretch! Let’s meet in hell! Someone like you can never enter heaven!”

…

Silence fell at last as the duke’s blood spread across the ground, staining Shadow’s boots.

“… I didn’t want my boots getting filthy today.
You’ve failed me…”

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