Chapter 38

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 12

Chapter Title: The Guardian's Fading Scent

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Kamin stayed up late into the night, tilting his glass alone.

When the bottle ran dry, the window slid open without a sound, and Jahankun slipped silently into the bedroom.

Kamin drained the last of his drink and turned his gaze to Jahankun.

"Come in. Edmund's doing well, I take it?"

"He flew into a rage about why I'd bring him the White Sword just to hand it over to you."

"Haha... But he took it anyway."

"Yes."

"Sit."

Jahankun sat across from Kamin and asked,

"The guards are combing through the capital. Is everything all right?"

"It's fine. He's got a safe hideout. He'll keep the White Sword well hidden."

"I picked up the fake Yora necklace on the way."

"Good work. You hold on to it."

Kamin figured business was done and rose from his seat.

But Jahankun stayed put, not following suit.

"More to discuss?"

"Your friend seems to have found the reason the Guardian's Fragrance vanished."

Kamin raised an eyebrow and plopped back down.

"The reason? I thought it just faded naturally over time."

"That's what I thought too. But according to the records your friend found, the Guardian's Fragrance was still strong until the Empire was founded. It started weakening only after."

Kamin tilted his head.

"So... the Empire's to blame for its disappearance?"

"Yes. More precisely, because the Guardian founded the Empire."

Kamin scratched his head, looking baffled.

"Explain."

"Your friend grew suspicious about the timing—the Empire's founding and the fragrance's decline—and dug deeper. He discovered that a hundred years ago, when the fragrance cut off completely, was right when the Empire expanded its territory the most."

"Was it?"

"Yes. Every emperor since the founding pushed for expansion through constant wars, large and small. The bloodiest was the Eastern Continent War a century ago. You know about that one?"

"Yeah. That's when the Empire fully subjugated the eastern kingdoms."

"Your friend checked the war records. It was brutal. The kingdoms' armies were slaughtered during the conquest, and the Empire lost half its conscripted troops. After the east, they invaded the western continent too. The Five Tribes united against them and failed in the west, but the damage was immense. The whole continent was drenched in blood. And after that, the Guardian's Fragrance was gone forever."

"So... the Empire—no, the Emperor—started wars and lost the fragrance?"

"That's your friend's theory."

Jahankun paused before adding,

"And I agree. The 'Guardian's Fragrance' is a power that manifests in the Guardian. What's a Guardian? Someone sworn to protect the land, humanity, the world. But this Guardian lusted for power and territory, founded an empire, waged wars. Persecuted the Black Lion's descendants, killed countless people, laid waste to the land. What right does someone who abandoned a Guardian's duty for 'Emperor' have to the fragrance?"

"That's a compelling take."

Kamin leaned back in his chair casually.

Jahankun eyed his indifferent demeanor curiously.

"You think it's wrong?"

"No, it makes sense. I buy it too. Edmund's impressive for figuring it out. But..."

Kamin's tone turned sardonic.

"What difference does it make now? The old man's not stepping down, and even if he did, the fragrance won't come back. Listening to you, it hits me—the imperial bloodline booming right after the fragrance vanished was proof the Guardian lineage ended. No hope for it now, and it's sad seeing Edmund chase a rewardless ghost."

It was a cold, ruthless assessment.

Jahankun nodded quietly, sharing the sentiment.

"That's all from your friend. I'll take my leave."

Jahankun rose and headed for the window.

Kamin started for bed but suddenly remembered something and called him back.

"Wait. Why's that friend of yours so late?"

"Who?"

"The sharp-eyed one. He was supposed to check why Leona has no aura."

"Ah, she's on her way. A sudden flare-up of an old ailment delayed her recovery before departure."

"When's she arriving?"

"Roughly... two or three weeks."

Kamin scowled, displeased.

"Tell me the moment she arrives. I'll have her see Leona right away."

Jahankun noted the anxiety on Kamin's face and replied affirmatively.

In the heart of a forest, two people had a fire going for the night.

A man and a woman, both young and strikingly beautiful.

The man fussed constantly over the fire, while the woman lay still in a thick sleeping bag.

The man brewed tea with water over the flames and brought it to her.

She sat up with his help and took the cup.

He watched her sip for a moment, then turned away.

As he rummaged through his pack, she set the cup on the ground.

She then slipped a copper ring off her finger and held it near her right eye.

Closing her left eye, she peered through the ring into the distance, murmuring under her breath.

Her pupil's edge glowed gold.

Her focus blurred as her vision stretched impossibly far.

Soon, an ice wall a thousand miles from the forest filled her sight.

She flinched with a startled gasp.

The man rushed back to her.

She shoved him off and scanned the ice wall's surroundings with her right eye.

Strangers encircled it on guard.

The Five Tribes folk she'd seen before were gone, replaced by bloodstains everywhere.

She turned back to the ice wall.

Her gaze pierced it.

Countless fine cracks riddled the ice—new ones.

Her face hardened as she looked at the giant clan member.

Its expression had always been blank.

Now, a faint smile played at its lips.

Kamin thrashed through a nightmare.

In the dream, he fought the giants recklessly.

He knew it was a dream.

But his senses felt utterly real, defying his rational mind.

A vast lake and blackened dead earth stretched before him, blood's stench thick in the air.

The giants' roars pierced his ears; his broken ribs throbbed.

A giant swung its arm at him.

Kamin didn't dodge—instead, he lunged deeper, thrusting his sword.

The blade met flesh; stone-hard skin split and tore.

Possible only because he wielded the White Sword.

The giant swatted him away with its arm.

This time, he couldn't evade—Kamin crashed to the ground.

"Gah!"

Blood poured from his mouth.

The agony was excruciating.

He wanted to flee, but his dream body ignored him, moving on its own.

He longed to stay down, yet he gripped the White Sword tight and forced himself up.

Dizziness hit as he staggered; the giant's fist seized him.

It crushed down.

Overwhelming pain surged, but relief washed over Kamin.

He knew he'd wake from this nightmare soon.

"Hngh!"

Kamin bolted upright in bed.

In the dark, he felt himself over.

Unlike the dream, his real body was intact.

He exhaled long.

"Damn it..."

Kamin clutched his head and curled up.

The nightmares had returned.

Three nights straight now.

The recurring dreams differed from the old ones.

In these new ones, he held the White Sword.

That's why, unlike before—where he'd been helpless—he now landed blows on the giants.

Still, they overpowered him.

Even with the White Sword, he shattered pathetically.

Despite the hopeless fight, his dream self charged relentlessly.

Only unbearable pain freed him.

Kamin raked back his hair roughly.

His chest tightened unbearably.

He left the bed and the bedroom.

The night-duty attendants in the hall gaped as the Crown Prince emerged.

He brushed past them.

They moved to follow; he glared.

His murderous eyes cowed them into stopping.

"Don't follow."

Kamin vanished alone down the corridor.

The close attendant servants shot pleading looks at the guard knights.

But the knights pretended not to notice.

They'd chased him recklessly yesterday and got reamed; no appetite for round two today.

As servants and maids fretted, someone mentioned Leona.

She'd know where the Crown Prince was.

Leona was summoned to his bedroom forthwith.

Close attendants and maids surrounded her, pouring out woes.

"Lately, he heads out at the crack of dawn."

"No one knows where."

"He won't let anyone follow—goes alone. He returns before the next day's schedule, so no real issue, but..."

"We're worried word leaks and he faces needless scandal."

Leona gazed at the pitch-black predawn sky and asked,

"His attire?"

Her abrupt question stunned them silent.

"What was he wearing?"

"Uh... pajamas."

Someone answered quickly.

Leona nodded.

"I think I know where he is."

"Really?"

Their faces lit up.

Suddenly, Leona requested the Crown Prince's cloak.

They fetched it without protest.

"He's probably in the rear garden. I'll check on him."

"We too..."

"No. Stay here. He seems to need time alone—better not disturb. I'll just confirm he's safe and return."

"Then... if it's not too much, please."

"Yes."

Leona took the cloak and headed to the rear garden.

In her past life, she recalled his favorite retreat: under the old tree in the garden's center. There she found the Crown Prince and Nacha.

He dozed leaning against Nacha.

Not expecting him asleep, Leona hesitated.

Should she wake him? Sleeping outdoors risked a cold.

Then Nacha sensed her and lifted its head in greeting.

"Hey, Nacha."

Leona whispered softly, approaching slowly.

As she draped the cloak over him carefully, she noticed he was drenched in sweat.

His pajamas clung wetly; his face twisted in distress.

"Your Highness, Your Highness—wake up."

"Hk!"

He jerked awake with a choked gasp.

Leona flinched, then saw him clutching his throat, gasping. She touched him quickly.

"Your Highness, are you all right?"

Stroking his back, she felt his body rigid with tension.

This was new; fear gripped her.

Had Biota poisoned him unbeknownst?

"Your Highness, stay here! I'll fetch the imperial physician right now!"

As she rose, he grabbed her wrist first.

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

Kamin straightened his slumped torso.

Leona fretted, worry unrelenting.

"Your color's off. See the physician."

"Really, it's okay. Just a nightmare."

"What nightmare could..."

Nacha licked Kamin's cheek.

Kamin smiled reassuringly at the concerned horse.

He turned the smile to Leona, but hers stayed stern.

She dabbed sweat from his face with a handkerchief.

Kamin watched her furrowed brow silently.

Her eyes brimmed with worry for him; his boiling turmoil eased a bit.

"It's truly nothing. Just a bad dream."

Kamin soothed her gently.

Leona lowered her hand, scrutinizing his complexion.

"Rough nights?"

"Mm. Past few days, yeah."

"Are you... feeling pressured?"

"Pressured?"

Leona averted her gaze, voice hesitant.

"Is the position... too burdensome?"

Kamin didn't reply; her expression darkened further.

"I know palace life doesn't suit your nature. You hate restraints, so it must chafe terribly. The nightmares are probably from that."

"........."

"It must be stifling, but endure a bit longer. Biota's watching for any slip to exploit—you must be cautious now. Just wait; I'll clear your path soon."

"How?"

Kamin asked, intrigued.

Leona clenched her fist and lifted her head.

"There's a snare for Biota. Once she's in, she'll take a grave hit. Even His Majesty can't shield her. When she's gone from the palace, you can act freely."

Kamin chuckled at her fiery resolve.

"Ambitious plan."

"Yes. But I need your cooperation."

"What? Count me in."

With his backing pledged, Leona detailed her scheme.

Kamin listened, draping the cloak over her.

Absorbed in her tale, she noticed nothing else.

Not his expression or gaze upon her.

The nightmares persisted.

Kamin battled them nightly but stayed indoors now.

Not wanting to worry Leona, he composed himself alone in his bedroom till dawn.

Biota rose late and began dressing.

Maids displayed jewelry awaiting her choice when the door guard whispered in her ear,

"The Supreme Servant Chief is waiting."

"Again?"

Biota scowled irritably.

The Emperor had holed up in his chambers, refusing food and drink.

Gilabo had leaked the reason discreetly.

'The White Sword's loss.'

Biota had scoffed at first.

The Empire's Emperor misplacing the Guardian's White Sword—in his own tomb, no less.

The sight of the bedridden Emperor was delicious.

She visited daily under sickbed pretenses to gloat.

He ate and medicated only at her urging.

Without her, he wouldn't rise.

Thus, Anu Palace's servants and maids yearned for her arrival.

Yet she skipped morning visits, claiming Emperor care didn't warrant skimping sleep.

She dressed leisurely as usual.

Near noon, she finally went.

Not even the Emperor could chide her tardiness; no one in Anu Palace dared urge haste.

But since yesterday, Supreme Servant Chief Hoakin had appeared at her bedroom door.

Stooped with age, he waited silently for her to rise.

A mute protest: tend the Emperor now.

As palace inner affairs overseer, ignoring him was tough.

Worse, he now wielded Odel's authority too—Biota wanted no clash.

She pressed her temple with a sigh.

"Clear the jewels. Simple adornment today."

"Yes, Palace Lord."

Some maids withdrew the boxes.

As the rest styled her hair, another entered with tea.

Biota dismissed all maids instantly after the tray was set.

She scanned the room, then approached the table.

A teacup, pot, and pastries sat there.

She lifted the cup lid.

A cleverly folded paper lay inside.

She extracted and unfolded it carefully.

A spy from Crown Prince Palace had scrawled the note.

It said the Military Affairs Minister had visited yesterday, talked with the Crown Prince—but security was tight; no eavesdropping. Their mood seemed off, though.

Biota returned the paper to the cup and poured hot water from the pot.

It dissolved like snow; only inky murk remained.

She dumped it into a vase and pondered alone.

Midday.

A sentry snuck to the flower beds outside Crown Prince Palace, evading eyes.

He placed two pebbles by a stone ornament's edge and fled.

Leona appeared right after.

She checked the sign.

A red-tinged stone atop a white one.

Biota's code to her agent: dig deeper, no matter what.

Leona pocketed the red pebble and vanished swiftly.

Soon, a Crown Prince Palace close attendant passed the beds.

He glanced under the landscaping stone casually and walked on.

Leona, watching from hiding nearby, smirked.

"Huh?"

On her way back from the Imperial Infirmary exam, Leona bumped into an unexpected face.

"Perfumer?"

The man about to enter the Perfumery turned at her voice.

"Oh, Leona. Long time."

Phil beamed a greeting.

Leona rushed to him joyfully.

"When did you return?"

"Two days ago."

"I see. You should've sent word—I'd have prepared cherry candies. We promised, remember?"

"Haha... Still holding to that?"

"How could I forget the man who saved my life? I'll get those cherries soon."

Phil waved bashfully.

"No rush."

"Still..."

"Really, it's fine."

Gazing at his warm smile, Leona's curiosity piqued.

"Back means you finished gathering ingredients."

"Yes."

"Must be swamped crafting now. Sorry to hold you."

"No issue. Blending's done since yesterday. Just testing left—plenty of time."

"Already?"

"Extracted at the border."

"Ah... So it's complete. The new fragrance."

"Yeah. I like it, but wonder if His Majesty will."

Recalling his past life's acclaim, Leona smiled.

"He'll love it. Cherry candies after the reveal—as celebration."

"Celebration?"

"He'll grant you a title. Perfect timing for gifts."

Phil burst laughing.

"Thanks, even if empty words."

"Not empty. Watch."

It unfolded as Leona predicted.

Three days later, Phil Mago presented the new fragrance.

The bedbound Emperor leaped up, praising him lavishly.

Rumors flew that day: the Guardian's Fragrance reborn in the palace.

Word reached Kamin amid paperwork.

"Guardian's Fragrance? Nonsense."

Kamin snorted, shaking his head.

Barts explained eagerly,

"True, Your Highness. Many servants and maids witnessed. He sprayed wilted flowers—they revived instantly. That's the Guardian's power. Historic!"

Barts's eyes sparkled expectantly.

But Kamin remained lukewarm.

His cold stare quelled Barts's excitement; he bowed.

"Phil Mago... That guy, huh?"

Kamin recalled the perfumer from the border city.

The man had helped when Leona was poisoned near death.

"Anyway, that's why this came up."

Kamin skimmed the fresh report.

New schedule for the Emperor's birthday: announcing the perfumer's title to proclaim his feat.

Kamin tossed it on the desk irritably.

Preparations for the Emperor's birthday early next month consumed him.

Overseeing the ceremony and events buried him in documents daily.

One more thing irked him.

"Where to slot the perfumer's ceremony?"

Kamin scratched his head, checking the ritual schedule.

"Damn, have to overhaul everything. Barts!"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Fetch Gerard and Cindy."

"Right away."

Barts exited and nearly bumped into Jahankun at the door.

As Crown Prince Guest, Jahankun passed freely; Barts stepped aside and ushered him in.

Kamin raised a brow at Jahankun.

"Heard the rumor, eh?"

"Yes."

"Checked it?"

Jahankun nodded.

Kamin read his blank face.

"Fake fragrance."

"Yes. Stole some perfume and tested. Temporary effect. Don't know how, but wilted plants perked up on contact. Lasted moments—back to normal quick."

"Herb expert, so some trick in the mix. Impressive mimicry, even if short-lived. No wonder the Emperor's thrilled."

Jahankun nodded mutely and sat on the sofa.

Noting his slumped shoulders, Kamin looked amused.

"What? Disappointed? You bought it as real?"

"...Guess I hoped subconsciously."

Jahankun's voice fell flat.

Kamin gauged how sweet the dashed hope tasted, how bitter the letdown.

Even this stoic man shaken soured his own mood.

"Edmund'll hear soon. Head him off—tell him it's fake. No false hopes."

"Understood."

That night.

In a dingy alley of the capital's slums, a black-cloaked man entered a shabby hideout.

Inside was dark and gloomy—no signs of habitation, no everyday tools.

He went straight to a corner door.

Faint light leaked through the cracks.

As he neared, a long blade flashed from the dark, at his throat.

He calmly showed a token.

The blade vanished; the door opened.

In the lit small room sat Wayne Hudson, back turned, reviewing papers at a desk.

The man approached.

"New intel from the palace."

"Hm?"

Wayne turned.

"Perfumer Phil Mago recreated the Guardian's Fragrance."

"Hmph..."

Wayne glanced back at his papers disinterestedly.

The man pressed urgently,

"Revived wilting flowers with perfume. Palace plans big announcement on Emperor's birthday—to boast the Empire's vigor worldwide."

"........."

"Boss! If this spreads abroad, kingdom alliances could crumble. We must act!"

"Ignore the fragrance. Something bigger'll upend it that day."

"Pardon?"

"More importantly..."

Wayne stood and turned.

"No progress on Biota?"

"Ah... Yes. She's pushing doubts on the Crown Prince's blood to the Emperor, but... No solid pretext to strike. His minders are tight; no mistakes, no openings."

"Need him down soon—makes everything easier..."

Wayne stroked his chin thoughtfully, then opened a desk drawer.

He handed the man a flat wooden box.

"Deliver to Biota."

"What's this?"

"Foal grass powder. Katago Tribe horses go mad for the scent."

"Katago Tribe horse... The Crown Prince's...?"

Wayne grinned slyly.

"Tell her its effect. Sharp woman—she'll know how to use it."

"Yes!"

The man pocketed the box and left.

Nacha roamed the rear garden all morning, then rested in tree shade at noon.

A breeze cooled its sweat.

Feeling good, it shook its head.

Savoring earth and wood scents leisurely, it suddenly bolted from shade, head swiveling.

Nose twitching, it scanned about—then charged the garden entrance.

It barreled past, sniffing toward the palace gate.

Some servants saw, puzzled heads tilted.

The gate sentries couldn't stop the onrushing Nacha.

In a blink, it passed through and escaped.

"Wh-what? That was..."

"His Highness's horse, right?"

"Yeah, Nacha."

"What now? Let it go?"

Sentries panicked at the unforeseen.

"Report up?"

"Y-yeah?"

As they turned for the main palace, one dissented.

"Maybe okay? Heard His Highness's horse is smart as a human."

"But..."

"It'll return soon. Maybe with permission."

Sounded plausible. They hesitated, eyeing each other—then someone dashed to the gate breathless.

"Where's Nacha?"

Sentries stiffened at the arrival.

"L-Leona...!"

Leona peered desperately outside.

"I heard His Highness's horse came this way. Where's Nacha?"

"It... ran out."

"What?!"

Leona glared fiercely.

They flinched, shoulders hunching.

The dissenter especially wilted, head down.

"You let His Highness's horse leave alone and just stood watch?!"

"S-so sudden..."

"Even if you couldn't stop it, you should've acted immediately. What were you doing planted here?!"

Leona pointed at one.

"Run to the office—tell His Highness now! Rest with me to find Nacha!"

The sentries sprang into action at her command.