The Radiant Palace was a historic place where the Crown Princes of the Orr Empire had resided for generations. Only those who had officially received the Crown Prince’s seal were allowed to stay there, and for over a thousand years, rivers of blood had flowed in the pursuit of that right. True to its name—“The place where the most beautiful and brightest light dwells, a blessed place”—it was known for being filled with sunlight at all hours.

But now, that very place lay engulfed in thick darkness.

The curtains were drawn so tightly that not a single speck of light could slip through.

Though the trivial objects imbued with Emperor Keillusa’s power could not approach the suspicious Kachian himself, they easily picked up the murmurs and gossip of the attendants guarding and watching over him.

And according to those stolen whispers, Kachian was currently in a state of restless panic, desperately flailing to do something.

“His Highness keeps asking if there’s any new message from the Duke of Diarca’s estate. If I say no again, my skull might get cracked... what do I do... haah.”

“The new attendants must not know yet. They’re falling all over themselves trying to get in his good graces.”

“They’re the ones who hired those mercenaries this time, right? What on earth is His Highness planning to do with them? If the Duke of Diarca finds out...”

Even though the Duke had been too preoccupied managing the internal turmoil to care much about Kachian and his warnings, it seemed Kachian had already managed to secure new tools to act on his own—whoever had paid those thugs to try to kill Marin.

No matter how empty the title might seem now, the name of “Crown Prince of the Empire” still carried the weight of a thousand years. And the flies swarming around it proved it.

But how loyal could such hastily-gathered followers truly be?

Could Kachian really trust them this time?

Impossible. Keillusa could say that with certainty.

Kachian was a man who trusted no one but himself. That’s why—despite all his cunning and greed—he never walked the ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ right path to achieve his goals. In truth, Kachian had no power of his own, so he had to rely on others. But because he couldn’t, he was doomed never to reach what he wanted.

If only he’d grown older and learned to feign decency like Duke Diarca, things might’ve been different. But, fortunately, that never happened. And never would.

Very few people could acknowledge, honestly, that they couldn’t rise from the ground on their own. Even fewer could then develop the ability to do so with their own strength. As far as Keillusa la Orr had ever seen, the only one who had ever managed that was his younger brother, Kishiar.

A small smile curved the Emperor’s lips just as he heard, through his unseen eyes and ears, the sharp crash and rising commotion.

It seemed Kachian was throwing another fit.

“Something’s breaking again... must be really mad. I don’t even care why anymore.”

“Let’s just hope he only gets angry and doesn’t act. Every time he sneaks out of the palace, someone ends up losing their head.”

“Don’t approach him. Let’s just think about what to report to Duke Diarca.”

The attendants clicked their tongues in fear. At that, Keillusa closed off his vision and hearing.

It had only been a year since people used to say that Kachian la Orr resembled Duke Diarca’s children even more than the children themselves. Now, no one said that. Not even Kachian.

The Emperor found that both bitter and amusing.

They all tumbled down so easily, just because I pried open a single crack in a moment of misalignment...

He had once lost far too much because he couldn’t seize that one opening.

But while the memory pained him, he refused to dwell in regret.

Better to grip the opportunity at hand more tightly.

With Diarca distracted elsewhere, and Kachian flailing alone...

From the very start, it had been clear which one needed to be dealt with first.

Files and intelligence passed through the Emperor’s mind—things he and his brother had spent years quietly gathering.

“Steward.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. At your command.”

Even with the sudden summons, the steward bowed with a calm face.

“By today, someone will file a report naming the one who hired the bandits that attacked their village. The person will be a Cavalry Awakener—coincidentally—and I, of course, will take the report very seriously and order an investigation into the culprit. Then, ‘by pure chance,’ the culprit will turn out to be an attendant of the Crown Prince.”

“Oh, what tragic and shocking news that will be.”

The steward answered without even blinking. Keillusa continued smoothly, without a flicker of change in expression.

“Startled by this, I will extend the blame to the Crown Prince himself. And during the investigation, I will ‘discover’ evidence of numerous other misdeeds he committed in the past. Perhaps I’ll even learn that he once let an intruder into the Solar Palace go without proper investigation, or that he stirred up trouble by sneaking out of the palace without permission multiple times. If I uncover those things, I might be so dismayed and disappointed that I’ll push for a formal trial.”

“For a trial involving royalty, the Grand Justiciars would need to approve by majority vote.”

“They are, of course, men of justice who serve the truth. I imagine they’ll approve.”

“I think so as well. It will be quite the shock for all involved.”

“Yes. Even the Duke of Diarca might be as surprised as I am. He’s an upright man—he may feel so ashamed and disappointed by the Crown Prince’s disgrace that he’ll suggest removing him himself.”

“That would be truly unfortunate... but indeed possible.”

“And if that happens, I may be forced to revisit the Crown Prince selection trials from before. Prince Ezein Nellaarn, with whom I’ve been in contact regarding the recent rift incidents, might also happen to share some interesting insights about the past assassination attempt.”

The Emperor and the steward shared a moment of silence—and a knowing smile.

“Then I trust you know what preparations to begin.”

“Yes. I have waited for this day a very long time.”

The steward bowed deeply, hands respectfully clasped.

“It is an honor to carry out your order before I retire.”

“And I feel the same. But this is only the beginning. Let’s save the celebration for later.”

That day, a formal complaint was submitted in a small southwestern village, demanding justice against the one who had hired the bandits to attack them.

The complainant’s name: Marin. A Cavalry Awakener.

***

Faint sounds of winter wind drifted through the cracks of the closed balcony doors.

But Yuder no longer knew whether the weather outside was clear or cloudy, day or night. Ever since the moment he had been left alone with Kishiar—who had finally surrendered to pure instinct—Yuder’s mind had tuned out all external stimuli.

Wind.

That was all.

Beyond that meaningless sound, the only thing that resonated clearly in his ears... was the obscene, wet, suffocatingly thick sound echoing in his head.

The kind of sound that could make anyone with ears blush and flee—yet it came from no one else but Yuder’s own body. From between his fully spread legs, folded so high they nearly touched his ears.

Kishiar had licked him before—but never this long, this openly, this thoroughly. Never in this life, nor in the last, had he folded Yuder’s legs up like this and done that.

It’s... too much...

He had expected Kishiar to enter him immediately, given he’d lost his mind—but no. Like savoring a meal he truly desired, Kishiar was melting Yuder down slowly. Even when Yuder whispered to just put it in already, there was no response. He’d tried to shift positions, but Kishiar didn’t budge.

So eventually, Yuder had just let go and left his body limp—letting him do as he pleased.

And it truly felt endless.

The red tongue lapped over Yuder’s perineum, slowly slipping inside. His soft, opened walls clenched down in response—but the tongue always teased and slipped out again before he could trap it. It had happened hundreds of times already, until Yuder’s insides pulsed like a frustrated child, swollen and involuntarily clenching with every twitch.

His thighs trembled under tension. A sigh, laced with raw pleasure, frustration, and helplessness, escaped between his lips—just in time for the tongue to push back inside and send his head spinning.

“Ah...”

His fingers trembled, clutching the sheets. Every strand of hair was soaked with saliva and scent, turning to viscous mush. And still, he wasn’t filled. Just opened and closed, again and again.

How long had he endured those sticky, obscene sounds?

“Ugh... ha... ah...!”

Finally, unable to withstand the overwhelming stimulation, his inner muscles clamped down—and with it, a gush of translucent, sticky fluid spilled out like a burst spring.

A fleeting thought brushed through: This is the first time I’ve climaxed like this without even being in rut.

At last, Kishiar lifted his head from between Yuder’s legs.

Fluid trailed down his throat.

His face—dripping wet from nose to jaw—looked bright and serene even in the most depraved moment.

Yuder’s gaze involuntarily followed that satisfied tongue as it flicked across those plump, red lips.

And in that instant—

The gaping entrance was suddenly, completely, pierced to the end.