WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 58: 11. St. Yansk University and the Chamber of Secrets (1)

──────

* * *

Ivan woke clutching his head. His consciousness slowly surfaced through a dull, throbbing headache.

It felt like a hangover after a night of heavy drinking. Yet, remarkably for this era, Ivan barely drank at all. Which meant he had no reason to suffer from one.

He pushed aside the soft velvet blanket and sat up in bed.

"What...?"

A velvet blanket? A bed?

Ivan's thoughts abruptly cleared. He was not someone who woke up in a bed. He only slept on the director's office sofa. Enrika had seen that and raged about it.

The more flustered he became, the slower he needed to move. He got up at an unhurried pace and surveyed his surroundings. That caution had been ingrained in him through years of training.

Someone confused in an unfamiliar environment was prone to mistakes and bad judgment. Maintaining a veneer of calm, Ivan tried to remember how he had ended up here.

"..."

The walls were covered in lavish gold-threaded wallpaper, brilliant tapestries hung from them, and clothes lay scattered across the floor beside a huge wooden table.

A red carpet covered the floor. The velvet blanket rippled softly over the bed.

And at the far end of it lay a silhouette facing away from him.

A woman. Curled up, she appeared to be around 160 centimeters tall. Her build was slender. Wrapped in the blanket as she was, it was difficult to gather any more information.

"Mm."

He checked his own condition. He was half-naked, shirtless and wearing only a pair of light cotton trousers.

As far as he could tell, nothing improper had happened. That was reassuring, yet also suspicious.

Still, judging from the situation as a whole...

A succubus.

Right. Those mosquito-like creatures that invaded dreams, forcibly stirred up unwanted desire, then sucked out mana and vitality.

It had to be them. Naturally. Ivan had encountered those mosquitoes several times while escorting the Hero Party near the Demon King's castle.

Where had he run into one? His memory of last night was hazy. Surely...

"Ugh..."

The headache struck again. It was clearly the kind that interfered with memories. Ivan shook his head, rose slowly and carefully, then headed for his coat.

When he slipped his hand into the sleeve of the coat on the floor, something clinked. He found a dagger and a water bottle.

Dreams were illusions built upon reality. Naturally, items he always carried and regular routines would be reflected in a dream as well.

And when it came to routine and being armed, nobody was more thorough than Ivan.

Silently, he drew the knife from his sleeve and laid it against his forearm.

He could not touch the woman lying in the bed. If this was a dream made by a succubus, there was no telling what traps it might have planted here.

Still, one of the two certain ways to wake from a succubus's dream could be tried right now.

Either act in a way completely contrary to the dream's intended design and shock himself awake, or have a priest use a purification spell.

There was no way a priest would be beside him while he slept, so he chose the first method.

-Slash.

A cold pain ran through him as his forearm was cut deeply. He quickly looked around, but there was no sign of the dream falling apart.

That was fine. He was an agent who had undergone pain desensitization training, so cutting his forearm might not have been enough of a shock to wake him from a succubus's dream.

Then he only had to use another method.

"Ha..."

He had sworn never to use this on himself again.

Had it been fifteen years? He remembered being forcibly "treated" in the unit infirmary, his limbs strapped down after a spear had pierced his abdomen.

Ivan stared at the water bottle with weary eyes, then slowly... very carefully tilted it.

A viscous, terrible red liquid gurgled out over his bleeding forearm.

The instant it touched the wound, it hissed. The gash began closing at once. He neither groaned nor sighed. His breathing remained steady.

But lightning-like pain tore through his head. A familiar pain, one he had buried deep in the back of his memories, came flooding in.

The sensation of being healed by a healing potion. At least, that was what he decided to call it.

Taking a short breath, he set the potion upright and carefully sealed the cap again.

His movements were delicate and cautious, as though he were sealing an ancient cursed demon inside a jar.

Once tightly sealed, the healing potion transformed from a viscous liquid embodying the malice of hell back into a reliable essential weapon. He slipped the bottle into his sleeve and got dressed.

"...?"

Even after all that, the dream did not end.

He looked at the dagger again and considered slicing his forearm, but then a small hypothesis occurred to him.

What if this was not a dream...?

Ivan sat back against the large sofa beside the table, aimed the dagger at the woman lying in the velvet bed, and sank into thought.

Who was that woman, where was this, and why had he been here?

What the hell had happened yesterday?

He had definitely searched the school for Saint Yansk University's Chamber of Secrets...

Ep. 11. St. Yansk University and the Chamber of Secrets

Let us turn back time for a moment, to Pritchenkaya immediately after the children of the Hero Party had been rescued.

Elizaveta ultimately declined the throne.

"Until this nation's troubles are set right, the Royal Family cannot restore its authority."

"His Majesty is still so healthy. How could I dare usurp the royal title?"

After declaring that she would completely root out the "fake Crown Prince" and the "unknown foreign enemy" who had infiltrated deep into the Royal Family, she generously opened the treasury to aid the people affected by the terror attack.

The important point was that she had opened the state treasury.

Not her own private fortune.

In other words, she made it clear enough for every noble to understand that the Royal Family's treasury was now in her hands.

"The Foreign Minister has been abducted by vicious criminals."

Those criminals had, astonishingly, kidnapped the Crown Prince of a nation, impersonated him, and manipulated the monarchy.

The unprecedented disappearance of the first in line to the throne had severely damaged the Royal Family's authority. Naturally, the Counterintelligence Command, which should have prevented such a thing beforehand, ought to have been placed in a difficult position...

"As a member of the royal bloodline, I deeply acknowledge my great responsibility for this situation. I shall relinquish all authority over the court."

The Princess, who had also served as head of the Counterintelligence Command, resolved the issue by stepping down herself, lamenting that she had failed to protect her own brother.

"Lord, protect Krasilov. The Royal Family shall no longer bear the crimson robe of secular power. The royal bloodline shall only serve as a symbol of national dignity, a beacon to overcome this national crisis."

All those of the royal bloodline would go from direct rulers to cultural symbols. In other words, it was the beginning of a constitutional monarchy.

At least within Krasilov, the Crown Prince's talk of the Royal Family's divine right no longer meant anything. The world was evil? Who could they blame? The king no longer directly ruled the country, so they could throw stones at their own nobles instead.

The power the people saw was now subject to the House of Nobles and the upper administration.

Yet all power came from military authority, wealth, and information.

And in Pritchenkaya, all three now belonged to one person.

"Your Majesty, please give your orders."

"You do joke too much, Dmitry. My father remains well, and I no longer involve myself in state affairs, so why speak of orders?"

"Ha ha ha! My apologies, Your Highness!"

Dmitry and Elizaveta laughed as they drank tea. In the East Court's rear garden on a summer afternoon after the rain, the warm scent of blooming flowers filled the air.

"How are the old men in the House of Nobles?"

"They all look rather amusing, rolling their eyes about. They have received nothing but silence when they reach for military affairs, so they must be frustrated."

"Let them suffer a little longer. Might not someone among them become brave enough to draw a sword?"

"That would make dealing with them easier."

Every Royal Guard Division near Pritchenkaya had already sworn loyalty to the Princess, while every source of information connected to the rest of the military administration was controlled by the Counterintelligence Command.

The announcement that the Crown Prince had suddenly vanished was suspicious enough. The story that a "fake" Crown Prince had dared attempt a coup, only to fall overnight, was no less strange.

From the House of Nobles' perspective, their insides must have been burning. Especially for those who had joined the Crown Prince faction.

Naturally, the nobles were not stupid. Everyone would know this was only the beginning of a massive purge.

The Princess had stepped down as Court Minister? Would the garden she had personally cultivated for over ten years betray its owner just because of that?

The Princess had given up the Counterintelligence Command? She had been their master since the days of the Annihilation Unit. No noble with common sense believed that.

It was no longer even a secret among the nobles that both the state treasury and the Royal Family's private coffers were subordinate to the East Court. The Princess intended for them to know.

The current king still sat firmly on the throne, yet the Princess had independently declared a constitutional monarchy? Was it not obvious that she had stripped the king of all authority and power, then brought it under her control?

Then there was really only one thing the nobles had to do.

"Your Highness, Count Yusup requests an audience."

Elizaveta smiled faintly at the attendant's words.

"The vanguard is bold. Has the cavalry commander come in person?"

"They must be desperate as well. Then I shall take my leave."

"Now then, would it be fitting for a ruler to receive subjects in person without a minister at hand? Stay where you are."

Elizaveta smiled and nodded at the Count as he entered through the door.

If the House of Nobles saw for themselves that the lieutenant colonel handling the Counterintelligence Command's practical affairs was in Elizaveta's office, they would find it easier to take a more cooperative attitude.

And so, the instant Count Yusup, commander of Pritchenkaya's cavalry, opened the door and stepped onto the carpet in the office, he dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.

"Raise your head. Your excessive courtesy embarrasses me."

Elizaveta waved a hand with a smile.

Krasilov had now become a constitutional monarchy. Thanks to Alexander's scheme.

The royal bloodline was now subordinate to the nation's constitution.

Yet the constitution, and those who handled it, were subordinate to one person.

Krasilov's royal authority had become firmer than at any point since the former king's reign. The people's dissatisfaction would all be directed at the nobles, while the sweet fruit of authority would go only to the Royal Family. No, to the Princess.

Pritchenkaya had now fallen into Elizaveta's hands.

She would have to reward everyone involved in this matter, but there was one man she had in mind.

What would be a fitting reward for her woodcutter, who had rendered the greatest service?

* * *

The greatest contributor to making the Princess the power behind the throne, though that assessment contained some personal bias, was Ivan Petrovich. Having successfully protected the Hero Party's children and prevented an international dispute before it began, he was at that very moment...

"Uncle, this won't do. I can understand the stalking, and I can even accept the way you talk, but this is really not okay. Stop right there!"

He was slipping through the darkness to escape Aesidis, who was chasing him with a dagger and shaving foam in hand.

With the perfect concealment expected of someone from the Annihilation Unit, he calmly disappeared from Aesidis's sight.

Footnotes:

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried