“Nature is not cruel. It is just heartlessly indifferent.”

  — Pale Blue Dot

  The Negotiation in the Bedroom

  Kadan entered the King's bedroom.

  "Have you finished organizing your thoughts?" Kadan asked, pulling a chair toward the table and sitting down. "I was born a merchant. Therefore, I am willing to pay the maximum price for anything of value."

  He spoke to the Queen and the Prince, who sat before him with displeased expressions.

  "The lords will come to question your unjust actions," the Queen stated.

  "I am well aware. Indeed... but they swore their oath of loyalty to the King, not yet to you. Their oath is to support the legitimate successor and defeat their enemies."

  "You are not the legitimate successor!" the Queen shouted.

  "Of course not. That is why I haven't had a coronation yet. I’m not even wearing a crown..." Kadan tapped his head. "Furthermore, I had no involvement whatsoever in the King's death."

  "That is merely your own claim," the Queen replied angrily. The young Prince beside her only showed fear at the heated exchange between the Queen and Kadan.

  "It is proven by documentation as well. This event was hosted by the laboratory; the King merely granted the petition. I was outside the palace at the time." Kadan attempted to persuade the Queen once more. "In such turbulent times, it is easier for everyone involved to have me at the forefront rather than a young Prince."

  Kadan held out another piece of parchment. The Queen didn't even look at it.

  "The lords will arrive soon. I only need to endure until then. Why should I sign this?" she asked defiantly.

  "I am merely suggesting the fast and easy path. For your information, I have found the Witch of the Jar."

  The Queen stared at him with wide, startled eyes. Even she knew that accursed name. The woman who was the cause of this disaster, who could kill people in mass without any warning. The woman who sold her soul to the devil to awaken the cause that brought down ancient civilizations.

  The Queen realized why this man was so confident. Finding her meant she would help him.

  "Rumors are always exaggerated. She won't be able to subdue all the lords at once," the Queen said, her eyes wavering.

  "I will give you three days. You must have heard the stories of those who died in the Audience Chamber. Some of them are in a state that is neither living nor dead. I heard that secret from the Witch. Of course, I am not a tyrant who enjoys tormenting people, but please keep in mind that such things depend on the situation."

  Kadan stood up and left the bedroom. The room was once again locked tight.

  The Ice Palace Trap

  Kadan looked at the paper Ari had handed him. He stared at the concentric circles, specifically the most lethal one. He stood at one side of a banquet hall that was serving as a temporary substitute for the closed Audience Chamber.

  The banquet hall was like a massive ice palace. The marble covering the walls was pale, having absorbed the cold moonlight, and the floor was polished as smooth as a ghost's eye, so silent it seemed it wouldn't permit even the sound of a footstep.

  Kadan looked down at the twelve round tables placed in the center of the hall. They were arranged according to the concentric circles Ari had drawn on the paper. The tables were covered with tablecloths so white they made the eyes sting. Beneath that pure white cloth lay the jars.

  Before being brought into the hall, the outermost layers of steel and clay had been stripped away, leaving only the innermost metal sealing layer. They lurked right in the center of the tables, directly beneath ornate silver vases. Outwardly, they were the centerpieces of a banquet symbolizing wealth and power, but in reality, they were the centers of a disaster ready to erupt at any moment. All the windows of the banquet hall were left open to hide the heat emanating from the jars.

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  Kadan’s gaze moved toward the ceiling. Ornate chandeliers were installed above each jar, illuminating the white tablecloths. In the center of those brilliant decorations sat a large, heavy chisel, revealing its blunt and coarse metallic texture, aimed precisely at the center of the table below.

  Leaving everything to the absolute physical law of gravity, they hung in a heavy silence, dependent only on a single thin strand of rope. The moment a rope was cut, the chisel would fall, slicing through the brilliant light of the chandelier to ruthlessly crush the thin lead membrane below and awaken the hidden 'light.'

  Kadan was satisfied with the progress. He felt certain that as long as he persuaded the lords to sit, this kingdom would fall into his hands. The scent of lilies was thick, but a faint, fishy smell tickled the tip of Kadan's nose.

  Kadan reviewed the seating arrangement once more. The chairs where the lords would sit were placed considering each lord's disposition and affiliations. The most stubborn were placed in the center—positions far enough from the danger of the jars meant for Kadan but within range of the threat. The closest seats were assigned to those who would submit to him most easily.

  Kadan sat in the seat of honor and stared at the empty banquet hall. The silver utensils sparkled coldly as if they were emitting their own light without the need for candles. It looked less like a banquet and more like a surgical table prepared to dissect the massive corpse of a kingdom.

  He flicked his wrist to check the thin tripwires connected to the ceiling. A chilling sensation traveled from his fingertips through his mind.

  The Labyrinth of Knowledge

  The Royal Archives Ari entered was less a hall of knowledge and more a massive stone tomb. As soon as the doors opened, a surge of centuries-old silence and the faint scent of spices from rotting damp leather covers poured out.

  The ceiling was so high its end was invisible, and the bookshelves reaching up there stood as densely and threateningly as a giant's skeleton. The only windows were narrow slits pierced high up, so through the darkness like a low-lying mist, beams of dust-filled light descended as coldly as the fingers of a god.

  The structure of this place was geometric madness itself. Like a labyrinth in an old tale, the corridors of the archives turned at constant angles, continuing endlessly, and spiral staircases crossed the air before disappearing into the shadows of the upper floors. Ari heard the sound of her own footsteps hitting the massive domed ceiling and returning as dozens of echoes. It sounded like warnings thrown at an intruder by dead scholars.

  On the reading desk where Ari sat, proscribed books bound by heavy iron chains were lined up. Every time she turned a page, the parchment rustled as if screaming, and the ink had already burrowed into the paper, hardening like a fossil.

  The records she faced were bizarre. The fragments of knowledge left by the ancients were employing symbols that did not exist in the world to explain the invisible ghost called 'Radiation.' Complex diagrams made of lines and circles were like talismans imprisoning the secrets of the universe, and the descriptions of the microscopic world were all composed of numbers and symbols. The ancients were said to be describing it, but Ari could not decipher it.

  "This isn't a language... it's a spell named mathematics."

  Ari traced the symbols on the cold parchment with her finger. Only the sound of rats gnawing in the corner of the archives and the flickering of the candle were the only signals proving Ari was alive in this massive labyrinth of knowledge.

  She fell into the illusion that she was trapped inside the belly of a massive whale, or the brain of a forgotten god. The half-day allowed by Kadan seemed woefully insufficient to find even a single drop of salvation in this endless sea of wisdom.

  A soldier approached her and gave her a look. The promised half-day had passed.

  "Please come back tomorrow."

  She had no choice but to leave the documents she was holding and exit the archives.

  The Price of Liberation

  Ari went back to Eren's room. Fortunately, his condition did not seem to be getting worse. Unfortunately, however, his fingers seemed to be undergoing necrosis. Thanks to the ancient records, she had tried cleaning the skin and finding ways to prevent infection, but unlike other areas, she could do nothing about the fingers.

  "This must be where the light hit back then," Eren said in a tone of resignation. "You saw it too, that cold blue light."

  Ari nodded quietly while looking at his fingers.

  "Unintentionally, we liberated the light... didn't we?" Eren said, as if joking. Ari stroked Eren's thinning hair.

  "I'm sorry... I should have said something sooner."

  "No... you appeared like a wizard and saved me... from that attack of light..."

  Ari knew. If Eren had stayed in his original spot back then, nothing would have happened.

  "There's plenty of material on Radiation, but I haven't found a cure yet."

  "It's okay... you said it yourself... it was so common they wouldn't have left records... maybe the ancients recorded it so simply, just in passing. Answers are always easy once you know them." Eren comforted Ari.

  "What do you think Kadan will do?" Eren asked Ari.

  "He's a businessman... and an ambitious one... but he's not a cruel person... though he'll act that way if appearing cruel is advantageous..."

  "Then what about us?"

  "Won't he let us go once he becomes King? Keeping a Witch around would only be bad for his reputation." Ari said with a smile.

  "He could kill us."

  "He hasn't killed us yet... even after obtaining the method of use. I'll become a symbol of tolerance... I might get beaten to death on the street, but he won't kill me himself."

  Eren nodded at Ari's words.