Bad Born Blood-Chapter 151

Chapter 151

We sat Ivan, who was half-destroyed, on a chair and listened to his story. His once-beautiful cybernetic body was now in a pitiful state, completely ruined.

Ivan’s voice came from the terminal connected to the back of his neck.

- I’ve never seen Arcane Civilization’s combat relics in person. But I have stolen records about them. This is a story from long before Noel Mullizcane’s rebellion. There used to be another elite guard, similar to the Imperial Guard. For some reason, that unit went mad, and the emperor at the time personally set out and annihilated them.

"A few hundred years have passed, and you think that power and those relics still exist?"

I asked. Ivan’s gaze turned not to me, but to Francec.

- A few hundred years is a long time for an individual, but from a historical perspective—not even from a cosmic one—it’s just a fleeting moment. In any case, Arcane Civilization’s power must be an asset passed down only to the emperor. Even I don’t know what it truly is... which is why I could never stop doubting whether I was really the rightful successor. Unlike a fool who never once questioned whether he was the crown prince. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Despite Ivan’s sharp words, Francec sat still. He was empty, like a broken jar. He seemed drained of strength.

’Francec was able to walk a tightrope with me because he needed to confirm whether his father and younger brother truly intended to kill him. Now that he has seen their betrayal with his own eyes, revolution or whatever else—it all feels meaningless to him.’

Francec had lost the drive to move forward. This was as far as he could go.

’In other words, it means he had that much trust and love for his family.’

Even in my memories, the emperor and Francec had seemed like an affectionate father and son. Whatever lay beneath the surface, to Francec, the emperor and Ivan must have been his ideal father and brother.

"I didn’t know anything. Riley, I didn’t even realize you were suffering..."

Francec murmured.

- Knowing changes nothing. I never wanted your help in the first place. Just look at yourself. You’ve crumbled from learning this little bit of truth. I’m afraid of Father. But if I let fear keep me down, I’ll be devoured. I have to stand up, no matter what. And those who stand up have only two choices—run away from the source of their fear... or eliminate it.

For the first time, he was saying something I could agree with. I deeply sympathized with Ivan’s words, but I didn’t show it.

"Ivan, tell me all the plans you’ve prepared up to this point. You must have come up with several backup plans in case things went wrong. Our past and our relationship don’t matter right now. If we want to survive, we have to lay out all our weapons and put them together in one place."

- I’ve been saying this for a while now, but you keep making remarks that go beyond the perspective and thinking of an ordinary individual. What’s plugged into your head right now? Even if you have Akies Victima, you lack experience in politics and power struggles, yet here you are...

Ivan tried to pierce through me with a sharp question. But I didn’t bother to respond. If he realized I had limitations on my operational time, he might develop other intentions.

"Just answer the question. If what you’re saying is true... then the moment the emperor personally steps in, everything will be over. But the fact that he hasn’t appeared yet means it takes time, right?"

- I’ve told you multiple times that I don’t know the details. But judging from the circumstances, there are definitely limitations. It must be something that can only be used at critical moments.

There were restrictions on the emperor’s power. We could only try to infer what they were.

"Your Highness Francec, the situation has changed. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for Hemillas. Even with the forces we have now, we should head straight for the Imperial Palace. Even if our strength is lacking at the moment, we must push through by force and strike before the emperor can move. More troops will surely join you along the way."

- Or, there’s the option of seeking asylum. Francec and I both have symbolic and legitimate claims. Corite or Bellato would welcome us. It would be a bitter pill for Father to swallow.

Ivan had been bringing up the idea of seeking asylum for a while now. To him, it seemed like the best choice. But before I could dismiss it, Francec spoke up.

"Th-That’s not an option. I-If we go into exile, the Accretia Empire will be split in half. Corite and Bellato would use us to divide the empire. I-I have no intention whatsoever of handing over our great empire to enemy states. Even if we die here, that can’t happen."

Francec’s speech was strangely unsteady, likely from the psychological shock he had suffered. But even then, his words carried a clear moral conviction.

In an era of peace, Francec would have been a wise and noble ruler. That didn’t mean he was a good person, of course.

Francec was fully capable of using deception and strategy, of wielding hypocrisy and pretense with skill. He could also stomach the necessity of minor sacrifices. But such qualities were virtues for a ruler.

- Ha, ha. How noble of you. Acting all high and mighty despite your incompetence. If exile isn’t an option, then Luka’s judgment is correct. If my fate is tied to yours, there’s only one way forward. We must reach the Imperial Palace as quickly as possible and subdue Father. Maybe—just maybe—he doesn’t even know how to use the combat relics passed down through the generations. If time has erased that knowledge, even better.

There was no way it had been lost. If the imperial family had been that careless, the empire’s dynasty would have changed hands countless times by now. Ivan knew this, which was why he had been so intent on fleeing into exile.

‘The emperor’s power is real.’

We had to assume the worst and act accordingly.

"Your Highness, can you continue to uphold the image of an ideal ruler as you have until now? No—you must."

- Francec will do just fine once he steps forward. He’s been molded for that role. Just like you, Luka, were trained as a combat machine.

“...And what about you?”

- I possess a will that won’t be consumed by darkness. A mind that can pursue its goals without losing itself, no matter the situation. You have no idea what kind of horrifying education I endured. Even now, with everything collapsing around me, the serpents in my mind flick their tongues and whisper, and in the depths of my heart, venomous cunning roils with creativity.

I let out a cynical scoff.

"No matter what kind of person you are, you failed."

- As long as I don’t die, my possibilities are endless. Nothing is ever truly over as long as you stay alive and refuse to give up. That’s how the universe works. To me, failure means only one thing—death.

To be honest, Ivan’s words resonated with me. His worldview had many similarities to mine. If circumstances had been different, I might have felt a sense of kinship with him. Perhaps I really had been the right choice as his Overseer.

But I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to risk forming any unnecessary attachment to him.

Instead, I patted Francec’s shoulder. It was a rather insolent gesture.

"I’ll head out first. Let’s move to the palace. I don’t understand the pain you’re going through, Your Highness. In fact, it’s hard not to find it pathetic that you’re falling apart over something like this. But just hold on until morning. If you are truly the crown prince, then prove it."

I had to endure as well. I just needed my mind to hold out until morning.

Vrrrrr, weeeeeeeng.

Even now, Ivan and Francec’s voices sounded distorted and stretched. The excessive analysis and reasoning in my mind were turning into unbearable noise.

"I’m a fake, Luka."

"The people who follow you believe you’re real. To them, you are the crown prince and the future of the empire."

Without waiting for Francec’s response, I stepped out of the command vehicle.

Thud.

The moment I was outside, I staggered.

Even through the storm, I could feel the weight of people’s gazes on me. I didn’t need to see it to know.

* * *

Currently, communications and networks in Akbaran were highly unstable. The storm season played a role, but with riots escalating into a near-civil war, security agencies like the Information Defense Bureau were also enforcing information control.

However, complete control was nearly impossible. The empire’s communications and networks were deliberately fragmented for security reasons, and there were numerous external networks beyond imperial oversight.

- ...As the heir to the empire, I will meet His Majesty in person and ask him directly. What is the purpose of our imperial family and the empire itself? If his answer differs from my beliefs, then to restore the old banner of the imperial house...

Francec’s speech was spreading through unauthorized channels—a form of pirate broadcast. Since the command vehicle was being used as a relay station, the transmission range was limited.

Shhhhhhh.

The rain poured down relentlessly. The storm season had reached its peak. Every drop of rain hitting the ground sent ripples through my auditory perception, making me nauseous. Even with my cerebrospinal fluid converted into coolant, the back of my head burned.

I remained inside the command vehicle, meditating to control my senses.

Francec’s forces were advancing toward the Arch of Triumph. It was the largest road leading into the Imperial Palace.

Creak.

The vehicle came to a halt. Francec was the first to open the door and assess the situation outside.

"It’s the Arch of Triumph! The palace is just ahead!"

"But the ones guarding the palace..."

"Shut up. We have the crown prince with us."

My hearing was so sharp that I caught the distant murmurs of a low-ranking soldier.

‘We’re almost there.’

Auditory perception didn’t allow me to see far distances. I only knew the Arch of Triumph was in sight because someone else had said it aloud.

I searched my memories. I had passed through the Arch of Triumph during Francec’s parade. Back then, I had only thought of it as a magnificent structure.

‘Is Hemillas dead? Why hasn’t he contacted us yet?’

A creeping sense of unease spread through me. It was a worst-case scenario I didn’t even want to consider. Without Hemillas, Francec had no path to success.

‘Because...’

I lifted my head in the direction of the Arch of Triumph. Even without functioning eyes, habits were not easily broken.

My auditory perception faintly captured the outline of the Arch of Triumph. As I discerned its rough contours, my brain retrieved its image from memory, refining the shape into a clearer form. The versatility of the human brain never ceased to amaze me.

"Th-The Imperial Guard. Damn it, of course the Guard is here!"

"Don’t push! You bastards, the Guard is standing right there!"

The murmurs escalated, on the verge of turning into outright panic.

"You said they wouldn’t be here! You said they wouldn’t be here!"

A hundred Imperial Guards stood watch over the Arch of Triumph. It wasn’t unusual. Guarding the palace and protecting the imperial family had always been the duty of the Imperial Guard.

‘We need Hemillas to move them.’

Even within the Guard, only a handful knew about the coup. We had to be even more cautious with them than with the military.

This was because of the unique nature of the Imperial Guard—they were indoctrinated with an obsessive loyalty to the imperial family.

‘The Guard is composed of hand-picked elites, carefully selected from across the empire through rigorous screening. Those with inherently loyal temperaments undergo an almost brainwashing level of education. And even that isn’t enough—regular psychological evaluations eliminate cadets who fall below the standard.’

Few, like Ilay and me, had the freedom of thought to question that system. Ilay had deceived the psychological evaluations, while I had expanded my cognition through Akies Victima, allowing me to distance myself from their compulsive loyalty.

Most young guards harbored an almost instinctive, blind devotion to the emperor. They wouldn’t easily betray that.

However, the longer their service lasted... the more human impurities accumulated, and that once-unshakable loyalty began to fade. Those who couldn’t withstand it were simply devoured by the Legions early on.

"L-Legion!!"

The scream rang out before anyone could react.

The Imperial Guards at the Arch of Triumph stood firm, unmoving. Beyond the downpour, figures emerged from the rain’s veil—Legions. Ten of them.

‘Ten Legions.’

...A frontal assault was impossible.

No matter how much effort we put in, we wouldn’t win. The hundred-strong Imperial Guards were practically an iron wall on their own. With Legions among them, we had no chance.

"Luka, come with me. We have to at least try to convince them."

Francec mustered his courage as he spoke. I shook my head quietly.

"It’s useless. Your Highness, you know what true combat machines look like. Those guards are no different from them."

"...You mean the ones who obey only Father’s commands."

The ones I had arbitrarily named "Shadows" seemed to have no official designation. Or perhaps it was a name known only to the emperor.

‘Judging by his reaction, Francec doesn’t even realize that the Shadows were once Imperial Guards. He just assumes they’re some kind of special forces unit.’

Francec was, in every way, a man of the light.

"The only ones who can command soldiers after an order has been implanted are their direct superiors. Once the Imperial Guard receives an order and enters mission mode, they will not step aside—even if the opponent is the crown prince. Just like Lieutenant Colonel Kasert at the checkpoint. He was also once part of the Guard."

Francec bit down slightly on his knuckle, his anxiety evident. We were still waiting for Hemillas to make contact.

Beep, beep-beep, beep.

My terminal chimed. Judging by the sound pattern, it was an Imperial Guard code.

Static. Crackle.

A holographic display flickered into view from my terminal. The signal was unstable, as if the transmission could cut off at any moment.

- This is... Commander of the Imperial Guard, Hemillas Custoria...

The transmission was coming from within the Guard’s internal network. It seemed Hemillas had managed to restore a broken section of the Guard’s communications.

A stir spread through the Arch of Triumph in the distance. Since it was an Imperial Guard network, they, too, would be hearing Hemillas’s voice.

Clank.

There was a sound from the other end of the transmission.

- Revadas Adnoa, Aki Young, Ben Castora...

Hemillas listed the names one by one.

- ...Do you remember them? You thought they died from Legion overuse. Right now, they are lying at my feet. I will show them to you, one by one.

I couldn’t see the holographic screen, but I knew what Hemillas was doing.

He was displaying the corpses of the Shadows. Their grotesque exoskeletons would make it difficult to tell who was who, but if Hemillas said it, they would believe it.

- I will confess my sins. I handed over our comrades who could no longer recover to His Majesty. They were transformed into something other than human. Our Imperial Guard was never anything more than a stepping stone to becoming true combat machines. Eventually, when even this intermediate stage is no longer necessary, we will cease to exist.

Static crackled through the transmission.

- But it seems that time has come sooner than I expected. We are no longer needed by His Majesty. And it’s not just the Guard that has become obsolete...

There was a rustling noise, as if the screen had been turned toward something else.

- The Imperial Guard and the military were attacked in the middle of a riot suppression meeting. The one behind it is His Majesty...

The transmission wavered, on the verge of cutting out. The temporary restoration of the network was losing strength.

Hemillas’s words were calm, but their impact was seismic. He had chosen civil war and division.

Once this wretched storm season ended, the empire would be weaker than ever.