Chapter 85

“What is this?!”

The retainers, startled, drew their swords all at once. However, the beams of light only flashed without causing any harm.

After a short while, when the brightness dimmed and their eyes adjusted, Lucian’s group could see where the light was coming from.

“My lord, there are lines of light drawn on the floor!”

“I see them too. But…”

Lucian observed the now-illuminated floor and looked over the drawings of the supposed puzzle.

Absurdly, the light was traced without any order, bearing no relation to the puzzle. It looked as if someone had scribbled over the drawings.

“…There was no secret in the puzzle. This was just a distraction.”

“It’s a method that was used a lot in the past. They’d make false locks on doors that didn’t need a key and hide the real mechanism elsewhere.”

“In the end, past or present, people don’t change the way they think.”

“Well, it’s effective. For some reason, we avoided the trap, but it looks like the fools who came before fell right into it.”

At Hugo’s words, Lucian gave a bitter smile and nodded.

Although the drawings were painted in similar colors, no matter how hard someone tried to solve the puzzle, it would never complete a coherent image.

It was nothing more than a cover designed to fool intruders. Even if someone miraculously solved it, the only reward would be a pretty picture—and nothing more.

“My lord, look at that.”

At that moment, Raymond pointed to the opposite wall.

At the far end of the wide underground space, which had been hidden in darkness before, chisels, punches, and hammers were piled up.

They weren’t tools for carving, but clearly meant for destruction.

“Looks like they were planning to smash the floor tiles of this cavern if necessary.”

“Then the people before were buying time to get in here?”

“Could be.”

At first, Lucian had thought they were trying to steal seals or documents needed to prove legitimacy.

Those who managed the mansion still didn’t know that Lucian had acquired Asagrim, so it wouldn’t have been strange for them to try and undermine his legitimacy for their lord’s sake.

But thinking about it now, it seemed more like they had been stalling to come down here and destroy this floor.

“Anyway, it’s ridiculous. These tiles are nothing but decoration.”

“Now that you mention it, why did the real mechanism activate all of a sudden? We didn’t do anything.”

“I have no idea. All I did was run my hand over the floor, and that can’t possibly be the real key.”

Clack.

As they talked, the sound of a mechanism activating was heard to the side.

When the group turned their heads, they saw a part of the wall opening outward.

Once again, it had nothing to do with the puzzle—it was in a corner under the underground stairs.

Lucian clicked his tongue, impressed by the creator’s meticulousness.

“In a location like that, they wouldn’t dare destroy anything by force. If something went wrong, the stairs might have collapsed. I don’t know why, but they were determined to hide it.”

“My lord, what should we do?”

“We go in.”

“We don’t know what could be inside. Are you sure?”

“If it were a trap, something would’ve already happened to us. Besides, even though the House of Count Calix was rummaging around here carelessly, nothing happened.”

They had torn out the lighting by force, messed with the fake puzzle recklessly, and even prepared tools to destroy it—and yet there wasn’t a single trace of old blood.

Everything indicated there were no traps.

“If they didn’t want anyone to find the entrance, that’d be one thing, but setting traps only inside makes no sense. Let’s go in quickly and get out before Glenn finds out.”

“That’s true. And they hid the entrance so carefully but left the rest so exposed… hmm.”

Hugo trailed off and looked away as if it were nothing. Though he didn’t say it out loud, Lucian understood what he meant.

‘This place feels like it was left unfinished.’

The interior was massive, but the only things inside were a giant puzzle to mislead and a hidden door. No traps or flashy decorations.

A space that big and empty was usually a sign of a construction abandoned for lack of funds.

‘Maybe this place symbolizes the fall of Grimaldi.’

With a bitter smile, Lucian headed toward the open door under the stairs. Perhaps there he would find the answer to this place’s purpose.

***

When Lucian’s group passed through the hidden door, they were left speechless. Beyond it was a fairly spacious room, but its contents were pitiful.

‘A bookshelf, a few coverless books, ink, paper, and a key?’

The bookshelf was an old piece of furniture with nothing special, and the books seemed crudely made, with pages bound by string.

The ink and paper were cheap and common materials. The only remotely eye-catching thing was a key stored in an elegant glass case, though it was unclear what it opened.

“My lord, allow me to check… gh!?”

Zap.

Raymond reached for the display case and immediately recoiled as a jolt of electricity surged out.

He managed to pull back in time, but the force was strong enough to have burned his palm.

“Magic? This is a magical artifact!”

“Wow. No decent furniture, but top-tier security.”

Lucian clicked his tongue and picked up one of the books from the shelf.

Apparently, the display case was the only magical artifact, since reading the books posed no issue.

— …I was rejected again. It was the same with the previous one, and now this emperor too. Asagrim—how long will I have to wait?

The glory of the past has already crumbled. How long…? I’m tired.

‘Asagrim?’

Most of the letters on the faded paper were erased and unreadable.

It didn’t look like someone had erased them on purpose—just poorly preserved.

Lucian turned the pages carefully, as if the paper might fall apart at any moment.

‘The older books are practically impossible to read, but the more recent writings are still in decent condition.’

After reviewing the contents, Lucian immediately understood what the books were.

They were personal writings left by successive heads of the ducal house of Grimaldi.

However, since writing them wasn’t mandatory, there were often gaps of a hundred to two hundred years between entries, depending on the ruling head.

Tired of trying to decipher the older texts, Lucian opened the most recently written notebook.

‘At least this one should be easier to read—what? It’s all smudged?’

Lucian was baffled to see the pages blackened, as if someone had deliberately spilled ink on them.

The letters had run in all directions, making everything unreadable.

Fortunately, the last page seemed to have been added after the manuscript was ruined, as it was perfectly legible.

— Grimaldi is finished. Since my daughter left the family, there are no blood relatives left to inherit after me. The Empire has survived a thousand years and, in the end, it has defeated Grimaldi. The ancestors’ dream will vanish along with the extinction of the family. It’s bitter, but at the same time, I feel relieved.

Reading the word “extinction,” Lucian shivered.

According to his prior research, the ducal house of Grimaldi had always been inherited through the direct line, without adoptions.

The only time the bloodline broke was with his maternal grandfather, who had only one daughter.

If the text said there were no blood heirs left, then those words could only have been written by his grandfather.

— The legacy of the ancestors now exists only in words, and even those descriptions have nearly vanished. I long ago lost the motivation to cling to relics of the past. I’m tired of carrying the weight of generations with no hope or reward. How could a declining Grimaldi ever reclaim Asagrim? Even if the Empire were to fall, another great power would take it first and drive us out.

That was true. As the capital of a kingdom, Asagrim’s location was perfect.

Unless one were a legendary swordsman, no one would return such a strategic place to its former owners without demanding something in return.

— I’ve never seen Asagrim with my own eyes. At this point, I can’t even consider the land of my ancestors as my own. My home is this place. I’ll live here and be buried here. I feel no attachment to it—it even feels liberating. Still, it’s a shame the legacy of the royalty will be buried forever beneath the throne. Even if it’s not me, a tool only has meaning when someone uses it.

“…!”

What did that mean?

A legacy of northern royalty beneath the throne?

Lucian calmed his racing heart and kept reading.

— I’ve decided to leave the key where it is. Destroying it to reflect my own narrow-mindedness would be ridiculous. But at the same time, I wonder what purpose it serves. I am the last of the direct line, and even the collateral branches with any right will end with my grandson. If there’s no one with the necessary qualification, even with the key, it’s useless. Perhaps future generations will only curse me for it.

“…‘Qualification’?”

— Just in case, I erase the impulses of my youth but leave this final page intact. If someone finds this place in the future and can take the key, let them take it and insert it beneath the throne of the White Palace of Asagrim. The legacy of the ancient royalty sleeps there. If everything has rotted away by now, then nothing can be done.

That was where the manuscript ended.

Lucian closed the notebook silently and stood up.

The key, the qualification, the direct line, and the collateral line.

Suddenly, he remembered a recent phrase.

— The second cannot use magical artifacts that only the legitimate imperial line can use.

The emperor had written it clearly in his letter magical artifacts that only the legitimate imperial bloodline could use.

At first, Lucian thought it was some ancient technology exclusive to the imperial family. But after reading his grandfather’s manuscript, another possibility emerged.

‘If a thousand years ago, it was common to use magical measures that responded only to certain bloodlines… and if not only the imperial family but other royal houses could use similar techniques…’

With that thought in mind, Lucian walked over to the display case holding the key.

Seeing his determined steps, the nearby vassals recoiled in fear.

“My lord, it’s dangerous…!”

Before they could stop him, Lucian placed his hand directly on the case holding the key.

The lightning that had struck earlier didn’t appear this time.

The display case accepted his touch without any reaction. A few seconds later, a small light flickered, and the central lock opened.

Clack.

“!?”

“Just as I thought.”

While everyone stood stunned, Lucian smiled and took the key.

He didn’t know what material it was made of, but after so many years without a single speck of rust, it was clearly no ordinary key.

“W-what is the meaning of this?”

“Read it yourself.”

Lucian handed his grandfather’s manuscript to Raymond and the other vassals.

After reading it, they all looked up at Lucian with rigid expressions.

“My lord.”

“No need to say it. I already have a good idea of what’s happening. It probably has to do with my bloodline.”

At the same time, he understood why the emperor had refused to give him Asagrim until now.

He had always thought it was to prevent the north’s independence, given their already distant relationship, and because the Grimaldi lineage still carried huge symbolic weight.

‘But now I see it wasn’t just that.’

The imperial family was being cautious.

Cautious of the possibility that other royal houses also hid powers similar to their own.