King Arcadia and Chancery Iocus’ POV

 

「Hall of A Hundred Thousand Ancients」

 

King Arcadia’s heavy footsteps resounded loudly on the polished marble floor. 

 

Natural sunlight streamed into the vast hall through the windows set high in the walls. At the opposite end of the hall, a magnificent golden throne reflecting the sunlight’s brilliance sat on a grand dais; its arms were exquisitely crafted in the shape of lions, and its luxurious cushioned back rose up in points—a mimic of the stylized crown on the Kingdom’s banners that flew proudly over the Palace of Arcadia.

 

A long red velvet carpet stretched from the middle of the hall to the base of the throne. White marble Gothic pillars, each with the names of a hundred Ancients carved on its front, lined the path made by the carpet. 

 

This was the true purpose of the Palace—a final resting ground for the dead in the war three hundred years ago. Though their mortal bodies had long since perished at the hands of the faeries, their names would never be lost to the flow of time. 

 

The last King of Arcadia breathed in the solemn serenity that lingered in the still air and began to walk down the carpet. The spots of sunlight shining on the ground seemingly guided him forward, inviting him towards the throne.

 

His footsteps ceased just before its base. “Chancery Iocus, I know that you’re here.” 

 

“...yes, sire.” 

 

King Arcadia slowly turned around and gazed at the Chancery who knelt on the ground and prostrated himself. “Why are you here? Have Rya and the young soldier evacuated from the city?” 

 

“Please forgive my insolence, sire. I have personally seen them off from the Palace before coming here.” 

 

“I see...” He let out a heavy sigh. “Stand, Iocus. There’s no need for formalities at this point in time.”

 

“...no need for formalities, you say…” Iocus stood up and returned to his original position, but his head remained lowered. “Arcadia, after all this time…you still can’t let go of her, can you?” 

 

The King shifted his weary gaze to the portrait of a striking young woman that hung on the marble wall. She wore an eye-catching violet gown which had been made from the finest silk in the continent. A string of white pearls, wrapped several times around her slender neck, cascaded gracefully down the front of her dress. Her alluring emerald-green eyes looked down at him from her position high above the throne. 

 

Even in a painting, she still exuded dignity and authority that truly belonged to the rightful ruler and heir to the crown of the Kingdom.

 

King Arcadia blinked and lowered his gaze to the throne which was never meant for him. “Iocus, if she was still alive…would this Kingdom fall to such a pitiful state today?” 

 

“Arcadia, you promised never to look back on your decision after that day,” Iocus reminded the King sternly. “Have you forgotten the hunger and desire for the throne that burned within you ever so brightly then? You wanted my help and support, and I gave you my all from the start. You and I have no right to regret the choice that we made.”

 

King Arcadia shut his eyes and let out a burdened sigh. “No right to regret…yes, Iocus, you and I—we both have too much blood on our hands. We both have sinned greatly in the presence of the Ancients and the Goddess. The crop failure, the Great Pestilence, the Pacifists…all of them are divine retribution for our great sins. I feel great guilt in my heart for dragging this Kingdom down with me.”

 

Iocus fell silent at his words for a long moment. “...yes, Arcadia. We are both sinners who have betrayed this Kingdom for our own selfish desires. And I’m willing to live with that burden for the rest of my life.” 

 

He lifted his hand and pointed his finger at the King. “But you, Arcadia…you can stop pretending now. This entire crisis, it was all orchestrated by you, wasn’t it?”

 

The King took a step back in shock. “Iocus…!” 

 

“Am I wrong?” Iocus smiled, though his smile was anything but genuine. “Arcadia, just look at how much your guilt have tormented your soul—you look so much older than your true age. How many sleepless nights have you suffered since then?” 

 

“I-I...” 

 

“And you, by adopting the First Princess of the Elysian Empire and showering her with kindness, you really think you can absolve your conscience and be freed from your sins?” He let out a scoff of utter repulsion. “I know that you only treated Rya as a tool to release your own guilt. You truly have deceived her from the beginning to the very end.” 

 

Iocus stepped forward and jabbed his finger against the King’s faltering heart. “Arcadia, this is the power you were so hungry for, this is the place you desired to be the most. And I helped to eliminate any and all opponents and threats that stood in your way so that you can stand here—in this hall—today. So, why are you regretting everything now? Why are you trying so hard to destroy yourself and this Kingdom?”   

 

The silence in the hall was deafening.

 

“Arcadia, you...you truly loved the Queen from the bottom of your heart, didn’t you?”

 

He hesitated and nodded his head sorrowfully. 

 

“...but because you were so consumed by greed and desire, you failed to see that the Queen loved you too.” Iocus glanced at the portrait of the Queen for a moment. “I was wondering why you suddenly changed one year ago. Why you suddenly stopped caring about your duties and became self-destructive. Why you suddenly lost all your ambition, as though the flame burning brightly within you had been extinguished at once. So I decided to investigate—and I found an unsealed envelope that had traces of being handled recently inside the Palace’s archives. It was a letter addressed to you, from the Queen herself. Perhaps back then, she had wanted to deliver the letter to you, but she changed her mind at the last moment and hid it in the archives instead. Unfortunately, you found it far too late.”

 

“That letter confirmed that your love was reciprocated. And yet, you plunged your sword into her heart and killed her with your own two hands, thinking that she despised you.”

 

The sound of the door being forced open echoed throughout the hall. 

 

“Looks like the Pacifists have finally arrived.” Iocus glanced to the back and faced the contrite King with a melancholic smile. “It has been a long journey for the both of us, Arcadia. I pray that the Goddess will have mercy on your soul after your death.”