Chapter 104
A suffocating tightness gripped Seth’s chest. It felt as though every vessel in his body had closed up, squeezing him so completely that even his breathing turned ragged, struggling to move through his lungs.
One step. Then another.
His steps, slow at first, quickly picked up speed.
He went straight to the empty bed. Pulling back the blanket, he pressed his fingertips against the sheet. No warmth remained where Yi-Gyeol had lain.
The chaos in his mind, which had threatened to spiral out of control, began to settle. His throat was tight, his stomach twisted with nausea, but the frenzied pounding in his chest and the whirlwind of thoughts dulled back into something cold and composed.
Withdrawing his hand from the sheets, he turned to the table. A single sheet of paper lay there, along with several decorative ornaments—trinkets that had fallen from the clothes he’d prepared for Yi-Gyeol to wear as everyday attire.
Seth studied the ornaments closely. Vivid, colorful, ornamental pieces. He knew exactly what that meant.
At first, he’d feared a kidnapping. But this wasn’t that.
If Yi-Gyeol had been abducted, there would have been no need to change him into those clothes. No reason to remove the embellishments one by one. And Yi-Gyeol, sharp as he was, would have left some sign behind—some clue Seth could find. At the very least, he would have come to find him in spirit form.
But there were no signs of forced entry. Only a scentless sleeping drug had been used.
Whoever had left did so with intimate knowledge of the castle—moving through its labyrinthine passages as if they had a map.
And who but Yi-Gyeol, who had roamed the castle in spirit countless nights, could have escaped so effortlessly?
The time Seth had spent away—leaving the bedroom, traveling to the Magic Tower, and returning—was roughly two hours. Given that no warmth lingered on the sheets, Yi-Gyeol must have woken up at least an hour ago.
He had risen immediately, changed swiftly, removed anything conspicuous, and left without hesitation.
This had not been a rash decision.
It was a carefully planned escape.
But from what?
*From me…*
Heat burned through his previously cold mind, sudden and sharp.
Still glaring at the discarded ornaments, Seth reached for the paper. A single folded sheet. It was obvious Yi-Gyeol had left a message. Even if it contained a long explanation, it wouldn’t change anything.
The fact that Yi-Gyeol had slipped out of his reach—*that* was unacceptable.
No matter what was written—
[I'm sorry.]
His mind went blank.
It was written in the empire’s language—the very language Yi-Gyeol had painstakingly learned for his sake. And yet, those two simple words carried a definitive, irrefutable farewell.
The paper crumpled in his hand.
The sound—soft and brittle—was like the final breath of something dying.
*I don’t understand, Yi-Gyeol.*
Yi-Gyeol wasn’t the type to start something only to later apologize for it. And yet, this time, he had chosen to leave—despite feeling guilty enough to say so.
The reason was obvious.
*His lifespan.*
*Why the hell is that your concern?*
All he had to do was accept it. He’d wanted to live. He’d wanted to stay by Seth’s side. So why had he left?
It was a simple truth—people valued their own lives above all else. That was the way of the world.
But Yi-Gyeol was the one exception.
Why was he always following some different logic?
Seth had always found Yi-Gyeol fascinating because he was so hard to understand. But now... now he only felt frustrated because he couldn’t understand him.
Taking medicine to block vitality absorption, begging Seth to leave marks, sobbing like his heart was breaking—and still, in the end, he’d left.
Seth’s gaze dropped to the paper in his fist. Just a little more pressure, and it would tear.
It was just as fragile as Yi-Gyeol himself.
Footsteps rushed toward the room. A moment later, the door flew open.
Renoc burst inside, face drawn with tension.
“Your Highness, I used the stimulant to wake everyone, but it seems they were all knocked out before they could even see anything.”
As he spoke, realization dawned.
Yi-Gyeol was gone.
“Surely… he wasn’t kidnapped…?”
“He left on his own.”
Seth turned his gaze on him, expression flat.
The eerie chill in his eyes made Renoc swallow hard.
“He took off the decorations, but he’s still wearing the same clothes. Issue a nationwide bounty using his appearance and attire. Offer the highest reward. Set up checkpoints in every village and inspect all travelers.”
“But…” Renoc hesitated, clearly rattled.
“A bounty and checkpoints require the emperor’s seal. That can only be authorized after tomorrow’s coronation—”
“Then I’ll make it possible now.”
Still gripping the crumpled paper, Seth stepped toward the door.
“We’re skipping the coronation. I’m ascending the throne immediately.”
Renoc’s face drained of color.
“P-Please wait, Your Highness. Skipping the coronation is impossible. Even among the late emperors, there were those who held the coronation without fail even in the middle of war. It is something extremely important—”
“Renoc.”
Seth’s voice cut him off, using his name.
For the first time, he released a killing intent that made Renoc freeze in place.
“I am the emperor now. I am the law. Before I kill them all with my own hands and set the crown on my own head... do as I say.”
The sheer weight of that threat pinned Renoc in place, his throat dry.
---
Yi-Gyeol moved through the capital, dragging his anxiety with every step.
The city was larger than he had expected.
Escaping the Emerald Castle and palace grounds with sleeping drugs had been simple. The real problem was getting past the sprawling residential districts that surrounded the palace.
He ducked into a narrow alley, slipped into spirit form to memorize the area, then kept moving. His body wasn’t in peak condition—running was out of the question. At best, he could manage a fast walk.
Finally, the outer city walls came into view. Yi-Gyeol turned into another alley and used the sleeping drug again, separating from his physical form.
Floating above, he surveyed the perimeter.
A busy exit wouldn’t do. He needed a section with guards but minimal foot traffic—somewhere quiet.
He marked the positions of the guards, the direction of their gazes, the possible escape routes. Unlike the palace, where he'd taken down multiple guards at once, here he wanted to avoid confrontation.
Then his eyes caught something.
A harsh voice rang through the night.
“Hurry up and move! You want another beating?!”
“Agh—! I’m sorry! Please, spare me!”
Yi-Gyeol had wandered into a darker corner of the city.
Two men were dragging a scrawny boy by the hair into a narrow alley. The boy’s face was bloodied, his lips split and trembling, eyes wide with fear as he was thrown into a cart meant for livestock.
“Let me go! Please—I just want to go home!”
“Go home? Didn’t you see your parents sell you off with your own eyes?”
One of the men sneered as he climbed into the cart, shackling the young man’s wrists. The other man grabbed his flailing legs and fastened ankle restraints around them, laughing.
“People’ll sell anything to survive. You’re not gonna die, brat—just getting a new owner. So quit your crying. Just worry about how to make some good master take you.”
They worked quickly, tying the chain connected to the handcuffs to a rope hanging down inside from the roof of the cart, then climbed back out. Left alone in the dark cart, the young man twisted his body and cried out, but in the end a rough gag was shoved into his mouth.
The two slavers returned to the driver’s seat, trading idle jokes as they drove to leave the city, but before long they came to a stop.
A young man had suddenly stepped out of an alley and was standing blankly in the middle of the road, blocking their path.
“Oi! What the hell? Move it!”
The driver yelled, but the young man didn’t move.
Annoyed, the other slaver jumped down and grabbed him by the arm, shaking hard.
“You deaf? Get outta the way!”
The young man, swaying weakly, covered the back of the man’s hand with his own and lifted his head.
The slaver, out of habit, assessed his worth.
Black hair. Foreign features. High value—he’d fetch a good price.
Then, in a trembling voice, the young man spoke.
“Excuse me… I haven’t eaten in days. I’m starving… Could you spare me some food?”
Having decided to use the slave traders, Yi-Gyeol began to act pitiful.
One step. Then another.
His steps, slow at first, quickly picked up speed.
He went straight to the empty bed. Pulling back the blanket, he pressed his fingertips against the sheet. No warmth remained where Yi-Gyeol had lain.
The chaos in his mind, which had threatened to spiral out of control, began to settle. His throat was tight, his stomach twisted with nausea, but the frenzied pounding in his chest and the whirlwind of thoughts dulled back into something cold and composed.
Withdrawing his hand from the sheets, he turned to the table. A single sheet of paper lay there, along with several decorative ornaments—trinkets that had fallen from the clothes he’d prepared for Yi-Gyeol to wear as everyday attire.
Seth studied the ornaments closely. Vivid, colorful, ornamental pieces. He knew exactly what that meant.
At first, he’d feared a kidnapping. But this wasn’t that.
If Yi-Gyeol had been abducted, there would have been no need to change him into those clothes. No reason to remove the embellishments one by one. And Yi-Gyeol, sharp as he was, would have left some sign behind—some clue Seth could find. At the very least, he would have come to find him in spirit form.
But there were no signs of forced entry. Only a scentless sleeping drug had been used.
Whoever had left did so with intimate knowledge of the castle—moving through its labyrinthine passages as if they had a map.
And who but Yi-Gyeol, who had roamed the castle in spirit countless nights, could have escaped so effortlessly?
The time Seth had spent away—leaving the bedroom, traveling to the Magic Tower, and returning—was roughly two hours. Given that no warmth lingered on the sheets, Yi-Gyeol must have woken up at least an hour ago.
He had risen immediately, changed swiftly, removed anything conspicuous, and left without hesitation.
This had not been a rash decision.
It was a carefully planned escape.
But from what?
*From me…*
Heat burned through his previously cold mind, sudden and sharp.
Still glaring at the discarded ornaments, Seth reached for the paper. A single folded sheet. It was obvious Yi-Gyeol had left a message. Even if it contained a long explanation, it wouldn’t change anything.
The fact that Yi-Gyeol had slipped out of his reach—*that* was unacceptable.
No matter what was written—
[I'm sorry.]
His mind went blank.
It was written in the empire’s language—the very language Yi-Gyeol had painstakingly learned for his sake. And yet, those two simple words carried a definitive, irrefutable farewell.
The paper crumpled in his hand.
The sound—soft and brittle—was like the final breath of something dying.
*I don’t understand, Yi-Gyeol.*
Yi-Gyeol wasn’t the type to start something only to later apologize for it. And yet, this time, he had chosen to leave—despite feeling guilty enough to say so.
The reason was obvious.
*His lifespan.*
*Why the hell is that your concern?*
All he had to do was accept it. He’d wanted to live. He’d wanted to stay by Seth’s side. So why had he left?
It was a simple truth—people valued their own lives above all else. That was the way of the world.
But Yi-Gyeol was the one exception.
Why was he always following some different logic?
Seth had always found Yi-Gyeol fascinating because he was so hard to understand. But now... now he only felt frustrated because he couldn’t understand him.
Taking medicine to block vitality absorption, begging Seth to leave marks, sobbing like his heart was breaking—and still, in the end, he’d left.
Seth’s gaze dropped to the paper in his fist. Just a little more pressure, and it would tear.
It was just as fragile as Yi-Gyeol himself.
Footsteps rushed toward the room. A moment later, the door flew open.
Renoc burst inside, face drawn with tension.
“Your Highness, I used the stimulant to wake everyone, but it seems they were all knocked out before they could even see anything.”
As he spoke, realization dawned.
Yi-Gyeol was gone.
“Surely… he wasn’t kidnapped…?”
“He left on his own.”
Seth turned his gaze on him, expression flat.
The eerie chill in his eyes made Renoc swallow hard.
“He took off the decorations, but he’s still wearing the same clothes. Issue a nationwide bounty using his appearance and attire. Offer the highest reward. Set up checkpoints in every village and inspect all travelers.”
“But…” Renoc hesitated, clearly rattled.
“A bounty and checkpoints require the emperor’s seal. That can only be authorized after tomorrow’s coronation—”
“Then I’ll make it possible now.”
Still gripping the crumpled paper, Seth stepped toward the door.
“We’re skipping the coronation. I’m ascending the throne immediately.”
Renoc’s face drained of color.
“P-Please wait, Your Highness. Skipping the coronation is impossible. Even among the late emperors, there were those who held the coronation without fail even in the middle of war. It is something extremely important—”
“Renoc.”
Seth’s voice cut him off, using his name.
For the first time, he released a killing intent that made Renoc freeze in place.
“I am the emperor now. I am the law. Before I kill them all with my own hands and set the crown on my own head... do as I say.”
The sheer weight of that threat pinned Renoc in place, his throat dry.
---
Yi-Gyeol moved through the capital, dragging his anxiety with every step.
The city was larger than he had expected.
Escaping the Emerald Castle and palace grounds with sleeping drugs had been simple. The real problem was getting past the sprawling residential districts that surrounded the palace.
He ducked into a narrow alley, slipped into spirit form to memorize the area, then kept moving. His body wasn’t in peak condition—running was out of the question. At best, he could manage a fast walk.
Finally, the outer city walls came into view. Yi-Gyeol turned into another alley and used the sleeping drug again, separating from his physical form.
Floating above, he surveyed the perimeter.
A busy exit wouldn’t do. He needed a section with guards but minimal foot traffic—somewhere quiet.
He marked the positions of the guards, the direction of their gazes, the possible escape routes. Unlike the palace, where he'd taken down multiple guards at once, here he wanted to avoid confrontation.
Then his eyes caught something.
A harsh voice rang through the night.
“Hurry up and move! You want another beating?!”
“Agh—! I’m sorry! Please, spare me!”
Yi-Gyeol had wandered into a darker corner of the city.
Two men were dragging a scrawny boy by the hair into a narrow alley. The boy’s face was bloodied, his lips split and trembling, eyes wide with fear as he was thrown into a cart meant for livestock.
“Let me go! Please—I just want to go home!”
“Go home? Didn’t you see your parents sell you off with your own eyes?”
One of the men sneered as he climbed into the cart, shackling the young man’s wrists. The other man grabbed his flailing legs and fastened ankle restraints around them, laughing.
“People’ll sell anything to survive. You’re not gonna die, brat—just getting a new owner. So quit your crying. Just worry about how to make some good master take you.”
They worked quickly, tying the chain connected to the handcuffs to a rope hanging down inside from the roof of the cart, then climbed back out. Left alone in the dark cart, the young man twisted his body and cried out, but in the end a rough gag was shoved into his mouth.
The two slavers returned to the driver’s seat, trading idle jokes as they drove to leave the city, but before long they came to a stop.
A young man had suddenly stepped out of an alley and was standing blankly in the middle of the road, blocking their path.
“Oi! What the hell? Move it!”
The driver yelled, but the young man didn’t move.
Annoyed, the other slaver jumped down and grabbed him by the arm, shaking hard.
“You deaf? Get outta the way!”
The young man, swaying weakly, covered the back of the man’s hand with his own and lifted his head.
The slaver, out of habit, assessed his worth.
Black hair. Foreign features. High value—he’d fetch a good price.
Then, in a trembling voice, the young man spoke.
“Excuse me… I haven’t eaten in days. I’m starving… Could you spare me some food?”
Having decided to use the slave traders, Yi-Gyeol began to act pitiful.
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