Subliminal Wayfarer

“Huu…”

Zion took a deep breath and descended into the pitch-black darkness of the chimney shaft, securely fastened by a rope tied around his waist. He pushed off the walls with his feet at intervals as he lowered himself. Thud, thud, thud, thud…

Flap, flap, flap—

Something brushed against his face inside the chimney. It seemed a flock of birds had nested there. A sharp cry and a slight stinging sensation on his face followed. He must have been scratched by claws. Zion swatted at the flapping creature near him. It was a bat.

‘Damn it, do they not clean places like this? How are there bats in the palace?’

Zion cursed inwardly. Of all things, he couldn’t afford an injury to his face. As soon as he got out, he’d need to apply ointment. What if Isella disliked a scarred face? As someone who relied on his looks, this was a sensitive matter for Zion.

“Ugh.”

He wobbled momentarily and clicked his tongue, steadying himself and focusing on his descent. A bat was no reason to lose his nerve. Not now. Not when he needed to succeed in this mission.

‘If I get caught, it’ll be straight to the execution grounds, right?’

It’s only natural.

A knight of the kingdom sneaking into the royal palace and carrying suspicious items? If discovered, it wouldn’t just be execution. He’d face unspeakable torture until he confessed who was behind him.

“…Why am I even doing this…”

Zion swallowed his lament. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts—he had to focus on the task at hand.

 

* * *

 

Raymond had pointed at a cross-section of the structure as he spoke to Zion, not requesting but ordering him.

“In my estimation, Gueuze’s collection is located here. Go in, count how many there are, and plant explosives in the four corners of the eastern and western walls. If necessary, we’ll bring the walls down from the outside.”

“Where exactly is this, Sir Raymond?”

Zion’s face paled.

‘It can’t be. Tell me it’s not.’

But Raymond replied matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you recognize it from the cross-section? It’s the royal palace, Sir Zion. The crown prince’s quarters and the crown princess’s quarters.”

He’s actually going to blow up the palace…

Zion let out an exaggerated sigh. It seemed Sir Raymond’s explosives were destined to be used. Raymond gripped Zion’s shoulder firmly, his expression serious.

“Sir Zion, you know you can’t back out now. Don’t entertain any foolish thoughts.”

“…Sir Raymond, if I die, you’re definitely going to hell. Sending a young man with such a bright future on a suicide mission…”

Raymond snorted at Zion’s words.

“You think you’re not going to hell? Since you’re going anyway, take a risk. If this works out, you’ll be hailed as one of the founding heroes.”

“What a horrifying joke. When I die, I’ll be going to heaven with Miss Isella.”

“With the enemies you’ve made, you think heaven’s on the table?”

“Miss Isella makes plenty of donations in my name. Those donations are reinvested into society.”

“…I don’t even know how to respond to that ridiculous logic.”

They exchanged banter for a moment before Zion turned his attention back to the detailed blueprints and asked Raymond a question.

“If we’re planning to collapse it from the outside, shouldn’t the focus be on the floor rather than the walls?”

“Look at this structure. It’s the walls. Compare the cross-section and the floor plan thickness. There’s a slight variation in height and wall thickness. It’s an intentional trick to create extra space. Enter through the second chimney on the north side.”

 

* * *

 

Tak.

Zion paused midway where faint light seeped through a level. He needed to confirm his position. Voices and faint chemical odors indicated activity. It was the laundry room on the first floor, to the north.

“Is His Majesty still bedridden?”

“Well, what do you expect? He’s over eighty years old. It wouldn’t be surprising if he passed any day now.”

“But His Majesty has to live longer. Otherwise, it’ll be Crown Prince Gueuze instead of Prince Lewis who—”

“Shh, don’t say things like that.”

The maids’ voices dropped to a whisper. As expected, Gueuze’s reputation was in tatters. If Lewis took the throne, at least the servants would be overjoyed. Zion, though he didn’t know Lewis well, reassured himself once more that anyone would be better than Gueuze.

‘That is, if we even succeed.’

To achieve that, Gueuze’s reputation needed to be dragged down to rock bottom. And if he succeeded in his task, it might even earn him some honor to stand beside Isella without shame.

Bolstering himself with these thoughts, Zion checked the rope securely tied to his waist and adjusted the pulley to descend further.

Tak.

Zion stopped. He had reached the first basement level, the storage area. Carefully counting the bricks under his fingers, he lowered himself again—now to the second basement level.

‘The floor heights are definitely different from those above.’

The blueprints had indicated uniform heights, but this was not the case. Zion braced himself against the wall, pushing his legs to anchor his body in the narrow chimney shaft. Freed up slightly, he pulled out the torch attached to his waist and lit it.

Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle, scuttle.

“Ugh…”

Honestly, the bats attacking his face earlier had been preferable. The sudden light sent swarms of insects scattering. No matter how many times he encountered such situations, getting used to them was impossible. Zion hesitated to reach out, overwhelmed by disgust, and instead felt ahead with his boot for a place to move forward.

‘As expected…’

There it was—a narrow passageway, just as Raymond had predicted. Ventilation ducts were a necessity, after all. Hoping the insects would scatter quickly, Zion waved the torch back and forth and squeezed into the passage.

It was a tight, claustrophobic space, making even Zion feel slightly constricted. With his larger build, Raymond certainly wouldn’t have fit through.

“…Here we go.”

Zion reached a larger chamber and carefully removed a heavy stone with holes in it. The room was empty. This was his chance. He strapped the torch back to his waist and jumped down to the floor.

“Now to the eastern wall… Ugh.”

Zion wrinkled his nose in disgust.

As the torchlight illuminated the room, it revealed corpses. Though Raymond had warned him about this beforehand, Zion still felt a wave of pity for Isella, imagining her being dragged to such a gruesome place. It was too much for a sheltered young lady to endure.

He wanted to burn it all immediately—but he knew he couldn’t. Focused on his task, Zion installed the explosives on the designated section of the wall and reached for the rope tied around his waist.

Between the corpses, Zion noticed national treasures carelessly displayed. He clicked his tongue in frustration. Once this room was exposed, gathering evidence wouldn’t be difficult.

‘How does Sir Raymond know all this?’

He pondered briefly before giving up. Raymond likely learned through his network of connections, including Prince Lewis, the marquis, or even Carynne.

What mattered was accomplishing the task assigned to him. Zion installed the explosives beneath the decorative edges of the wall. Then—

Ta-dak.

“……!”

Zion froze at the sound of footsteps outside the room. He quickly extinguished the torch, plunging the basement into pitch-black darkness. Moving swiftly, he climbed back toward the entry point, reaching up to push the trapdoor shut.

Creak.

“Damn it…”

The sound of stone scraping echoed faintly. Moments later, the door to the room opened. Zion bit his lip, unsure if he had retreated in time. Could his legs have been seen? Why wasn’t anyone entering immediately?

Had he been discovered? Should he retreat to where he came from? But as Zion shifted slightly, the rustling of insects betrayed his movements. Any sudden motion would only create more noise.

‘Was I caught? Or not?’

He didn’t dare move.

Frozen in place, Zion briefly considered the possibility of suicide. But if his face were recognized, suspicion would inevitably lead to Raymond and then to Prince Lewis.

Suicide wasn’t an option—escaping was better. But running would mean the plan falling apart again. Zion took a slow, deep breath.

“What are you waiting for? Go inside.”

The voice belonged to Crown Prince Gueuze.

The room brightened as light spilled in. If it came to it, Zion could always kill everyone present and die in the process. Scenarios and calculations raced through his mind.

“…No, Your Highness. I mu…st have been mistaken.”

“What could you have mistaken?”

“…I thought that a-among the orn…aments, there was someone I recognized.”

“Your imagination is running wild in the dark.”

Zion crawled deeper into the ventilation shaft and peered down. Standing below was someone he knew.

‘Reverend Dullan?’

 

* * *

 

When Zion returned safely, Raymond greeted him.

“Well done. I’ve handled the rest. Now we wait for tomorrow.”

“…Tomorrow? Wasn’t this planned for next month?”

Zion was startled at the new information.

“Yes, tomorrow. Since this will proceed without the Marquis’ cooperation, Prince Lewis is acting independently.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“You could have failed. Are you upset?”

“No, I’m not that immature. I’m just surprised. What if I hadn’t succeeded today?”

“I would have detonated it from the outside if necessary. Thanks to you, many people will be safer.”

“This is all so sudden.”

Not that I didn’t see it coming.

Zion scratched his chin, glancing at the pile of medicines and ammunition before them.

“Are we heading to war?”

“I’m not sure how things will unfold, so it’s better to be prepared. Running out of supplies is the worst.”

Zion agreed and began gathering explosives, but Raymond stopped him.

“Take only what you can conceal under your clothes. You’ll be assigned as Prince Lewis’ bodyguard. The current guards aren’t enough for my peace of mind.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed by the prince’s side yourself?”

“I plan to observe from a bit farther away.”

“From a safe distance?”

“Cut the sarcasm. It’s for your safety too, being near the prince instead of me.”

Zion raised his hands in surrender.

“Understood. By the way, about where I went earlier—there were indeed many corpses as you mentioned, and I confirmed that Gueuze was there. There were also treasures fit for the royal family. I don’t think proving it will be difficult.”

“That’s good.”

“But… someone else was there. Dullan Lloyd, the priest.”

Zion referred to the black-haired young priest, whom he knew to be Carynne’s relative. He was a priest, yet rather than helping, he had been in that room filled with corpses.

“He’s irrelevant. It won’t affect our plans.”

Raymond’s tone was dismissive, which irritated Zion.

“Carynne might have leaked our information to him.”

“I know. But it won’t be a big problem. He might not have noticed you.”

Why is he being so careless?

Zion wanted to protest further, but Raymond shook his head.

“I know him well. The scenario you’re imagining won’t happen.”

Raymond’s words carried a bitter smile, as if he knew too much.

 

* * *

 

It was a bright, sunny summer day.

The breeze was refreshing, the greenery lush, and flowers bloomed vibrantly in the noontime sun. Summer was the capital’s most dazzling season, and the social circles bustled with activity. This energy extended even to the children.

“Prince Lewis, it’s been so long!”

“Your Highness, it’s an honor to see you.”

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”

“A summons from Your Highness is always an honor.”

Lewis greeted the young nobles and their parents gathered behind them. Zion noticed that while Lewis maintained a calm demeanor, a faint sheen of sweat on his face betrayed his tension.

“I’ve called this sudden gathering because there’s something I wish to discuss with all of you.”

“What is it, Your Highness?”

Lady Lianne, the daughter of Countess Elva, tilted her head curiously. The gravity in Lewis’ tone was unmistakable. Meeting Lianne’s gaze, then each person’s in turn, Lewis finally spoke.

“I’ve gathered you all here to expose the crimes of my father, Crown Prince Gueuze.”