The Great Ancestor Estrid.
Estrid is the only bloodline that can rule the empire.
They are fearless, brave, and sometimes cold and domineering, knowing how to lead people.
The greatness of the Estrid bloodline has been the biggest reason the empire has lasted for hundreds of years.
Of course, not everyone born with the bloodline is the same. While Estrid is generally great, there have certainly been mutations among them.
There have been those who died at the forefront of war due to excessive bravery, those so timid that they never came out of hiding, and those so ruthlessly cold that they treated people like numbers. The existence of such emperors sometimes proved that not all descendants of the same bloodline are identical.
And one day,
The people of the empire realized that ‘madness’ also lurked within the Estrid bloodline.
The catalyst was the ascension of one emperor.
He was capable and revived the empire.
Festivals were held daily, and men and women exchanged glances. Children overflowed in the streets, singing of peace and prosperity.
Everyone revered the young emperor.
Then, one day.
A city vanished.
Men, women, children, and the elderly were all massacred. Blood flowed from the city like a river. Corpses piled up like mountains. Above them floated one person—the Emperor.
A single demon. No, an entity worse than a demon.
The only being stripped of the title of emperor, a stain on the great Estrid bloodline.
Ortega Estrid.
With his appearance, the people of the empire realized that madness also flowed in Estrid’s blood.
And they feared.
Never knowing when that madness might bloom again.
“Would you like to meet the Third Princess together?”
Lloyd looked up at the duchess who was asking.
The Third Princess.
Yulia Estrid.
(TLN: I’ve looked at the first chapters again but there it still is the Repenstein Imperial family so… not quite sure about those names, maybe both are accurate or the author forgot to change it.)
According to the information Lloyd knew, Princess Yulia would stage a rebellion. She pretended to be the least interested in power, hiding her claws and waiting for the right moment to reveal them all at once.
Could she be a part of the Estrid bloodline shrouded in madness?
It seemed possible.
No, likely.
Lloyd bowed his head to the Duchess.
It was not yet time to meet the Princess.
“I’m sorry, but today is difficult.”
“Why?”
“I am very dizzy and in a very poor condition, so I am worried that I might cause offense.”
The Duchess glanced down at Lloyd.
Indeed, Lloyd did not look well.
It was natural.
‘Surprisingly, he’s holding up well.’
The moment the mark of the Blood Cult fills, the assimilation begins.
Dizziness would not subside. The energy of the blood would swirl around the brain. Thus, a fanatic devoted to the blood would be created.
But Lloyd was holding up well.
How could he endure?
She had seen countless Blood Cultists, including high priests with extreme mental abilities, but none held out as well as Lloyd.
The Duchess found this both fascinating and amusing.
Though Lloyd felt like dying.
‘…Damn it.’
Lloyd felt like vomiting from the worsening dizziness. But he could endure it.
The various mental symptoms he suffered from after being executed actually helped. His brain, already accustomed to hallucinations and delusions, managed to function.
Meeting a princess who might be mad in such a state? Absurd. He was already a vessel containing Ortega, the disgrace and embodiment of madness of the Estrid line. The reaction when two Estrid bloodlines met was unpredictable.
‘I need to find the antidote.’
The antidote was more important.
The White Knight Arno mentioned the antidote. He said it was in his lodging. Fortunately, it was near Lloyd’s lodging. The servants stayed in the annex, not the main building. With a high-ranking guest visiting, attention would surely be focused on the main house. It was a good opportunity.
“If the Lady permits, may I rest a bit today?”
Lloyd’s voice trembled slightly as he pleaded.
With just that, the Duchess was satisfied.
Soon, this boy would belong to the Blood Cult.
The Duchess’s touch became gentle.
“I see. Go and rest.”
Lloyd stood up and bowed deeply.
“Thank you.”
As he left the room, the duchess whispered to his back.
“Don’t worry too much. It’s just the process of becoming a member of the Blood Cult.”
The darkened mark throbbed.
◆
The structure of the Grey Duke’s mansion was complex.
Broadly, it was divided into the main house, where the duke and important guests stayed, and several annexes for the servants and less important guests. Though the boundaries seemed clearly defined, there were various secret passages for the servants to move through.
Fortunately, both Arno’s and Lloyd’s quarters were in the same annex.
With the important guest, the Princess, visiting now.
The guards and senior members of the Blood Cult disguised as servants were likely guarding only the entrance to the annex.
Lloyd checked the time.
5 PM.
It was almost time for the evening banquet to start, the busiest time for most of the servants.
Lloyd left his room.
— Creak
He carefully closed the door.
The corridor was empty.
Arno’s lodging was one floor above.
“Hoo.”
Focusing on his senses made his head ache.
A flood of information rushed in all at once.
The sound of a rat scurrying on the roof, the smell of corn soup stuck to the floor, even a single speck of dust floating far away. Everything became vivid information that flooded into his brain. Among them was a space that completely blocked senses, likely a facility related to the Blood Cult.
— Drip
Lloyd wiped the blood flowing from his nose.
He calmed his senses a bit and started walking.
As expected, the stairs and corridor were empty.
Arno’s lodging was near the stairs on the floor above.
— Creak
Opening the door, various smells wafted out.
Fortunately, it hadn’t been cleaned up yet.
“Well, it hasn’t been long since Arno died.”
It was fortunate that the mansion was so busy today.
But where could the medication Arno mentioned for maintaining his sanity be?
Desk drawer.
Nothing.
Under the bed.
Nothing.
A particularly creaky floorboard.
“A notebook?”
He kept it for now.
After thoroughly searching the room, Lloyd found some unusual clothes.
They were remarkably clean.
Moreover, with Lloyd’s heightened senses, he noticed some peculiar stitching.
It looked like someone unskilled at sewing had stitched it.
When he touched it, the lining easily tore apart.
— Rip
A few small tubes fell onto the bed.
Lloyd picked one up and examined it in the light.
It was an opaque tube, so he couldn’t see inside.
But he heard liquid sloshing inside.
Opening the cap revealed a sharp needle.
A syringe?
“It seems if you press the tube, the liquid inside comes out.”
Staring at the tube for a moment.
— Squeeze
He immediately jabbed the needle in.
The liquid spread sharply into his arm.
It couldn’t have been poison.
There was too much liquid for that.
“…”
The drug didn’t take long to spread through his body.
… What is this sensation?
Lloyd sat on the bed, blinking blankly.
Clapping sounds. Cheers. Ortega’s voice. Various sensory inputs. Sharp emotions. The once chaotic storm in his mind suddenly calmed.
He finally realized that the energy emanating from the Blood Cult’s mark had been clouding his brain. The brain, previously shrouded in dark clouds, was now clear.
According to the White Knight Arno, this was surely a sedative.
But Lloyd felt his body awakening instead. His mind was clearer than ever, and even the previously sharp physical sensations were now refreshing.
Lloyd stood up and stretched his hand. His body felt light, as if he had just emerged from the depths of the ocean.
— Thud.
The notebook that had been lying on the bed fell to the floor.
Lloyd picked it up and began to read. Each letter seemed to imprint itself in his mind. This body’s inherent talent must have been this powerful.
[Report Log]
The notebook was a type of report written by Arno. It contained detailed information about the Grey Duchess and the mansion.
As Lloyd skimmed through, memorizing the contents like photographs, his eyes stopped on one passage.
* Basement
— Discovered a passage leading to the basement.
— This mansion has no basement according to its design.
— A consistent number of people have been disappearing from the mansion. Needs investigation.
“… This is.”
The content about the basement was something he had seen in the [Journal].
The journal had clearly shown concern about Lloyd’s knowledge of the basement.
‘Let’s move on for now.’
It was suspicious. But he didn’t have time to delve into such mysteries at the moment. This place was, after all, a branch of the Blood Cult. People disappearing wasn’t unusual here.
More important was the princess.
The Third Princess Yulia.
He needed to find a way to win her over…
— Clank
The door suddenly opened.
Lloyd realized that he had been so deep in thought that he had dulled his senses.
A habit he had developed to survive in this body had now become a poison.
Lloyd turned his head to look at the door.
“Hector?”
Familiar faces stood there.
Each held a weapon in their hand.
— Thwack!
A thrown dagger grazed past, embedding itself in the wall.
Blood trickled down Lloyd’s cheek.
