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Stalemate – Part 05

Dark clouds hovered around the Soleil Noir as it stood on a small hill just outside Saubreme.

Townspeople cast uneasy glances at the clouds and sighed.

Some warned the children playing outside. “Those clouds mean thunder. Get inside!”

Laundry was hurriedly collected. Men outside the tavern, who had been drinking whiskey atop barrels, each grabbed their glasses and staggered into the crowded establishment.

Soon, thunder boomed. People looked up at the bluish-white lightning forming ominous patterns in the evening sky.

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A figure strode along the damp, dark stone corridor of the Soleil Noir.

Marquis de Blois. Accompanied by his peculiar subordinates, Morella and Carmilla, he moved briskly from the inner chamber towards the exit.

“Grevil!” the Marquis called.

“Sir!” the tense voice of a young man came from behind.

The Marquis narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a quiet yet cruel, feral expression. The faces of both Morella and Carmilla twisted slightly, and for a brief moment showed a hint of a smile.

“About an hour from now.”

“Yes…?”

“His Majesty will come to see it. Yes, tonight marks the beginning of fantastic days!”

“I see.”

Inspector Grevil de Blois emerged from the shadows, standing rigidly upright. He seemed to shrink before his father.

The Marquis, on the other hand, kept his smile. “Make sure to give it plenty of food and water before then. Understood?”

“Understood!” Inspector de Blois nodded gravely.

Marquis de Blois gave a slight nod and resumed walking.

Exiting the prison, they proceeded under the thundering skies and boarded a sinister and lavish carriage. The coachman immediately cracked his whip. The horses neighed high, then dashed away at incredible speed.

Thunder crashed, and lightning cut through the evening sky. The carriage raced through rain mixed with snow.

As they reached the city center, the cold rain subsided, but the sound of rain pelting the carriage’s roof was still loud.

Leaning against the dark red backrest, Marquis de Blois unknowingly wore a faint smile. The rhythmic pattering of rain had conjured up delightful visions. Some kind of presence tapping on the roof slowly transformed into a pitiful little girl lying face down, pounding desperately with her tiny fists.

Marquis de Blois closed his eyes and waved his arms like a grand conductor on a huge stage, relishing the spectacle.

The phantom girl atop the roof, her sorrowful green eyes wide open, continued pounding. Her golden hair, once magnificent but now lost its luster, clung closely to her slender, rain-battered frame. Wearing only tattered rags, her eyes glinted eerily as she pleaded for something.

Realizing that she was weakly begging for mercy, Marquis de Blois chuckled. Morella and Carmilla stirred.

“What’s the matter, Your Grace?”

“You’re laughing all of a sudden.”

“We are…”

“…curious.”

“Heh. I’m thrilled! At long last…!”

Marquis de Blois slowly opened his eyes and smiled at his two subordinates, revealing a glistening red tongue between dry, colorless lips.

“Years of hardship have paid off, and now, the Monstre Charmant has bestowed immense power upon both me and the Ministry of the Occult. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“It is!”

“Absolutely!”

Morella and Carmilla agreed with evident delight. Countless small fists continued pounding on the roof.

“I kept forging ahead, believing this day would come. I’ve overcome countless adversities. The dream I had since the day I purchased a magical incantation from that old woman and laid a deadly curse on my brother is finally coming true tonight! With the mysterious ancient power of the Old World, I will rule the whole kingdom!” Marquis de Blois waved his arms around jubilantly. “I have the king in the palm of my hand!”

“Indeed.”

“You’re right.”

The carriage slowed down, and the hooves clattering on the cobblestones softened. The rain kept drumming on the roof, as if pleading for help.

The illusionary girl—either Victorique, the Gray Wolf’s child, or Cordelia, her mother whom the Marquis abducted long ago—wore an expression of adoration mixed with fear towards Marquis de Blois, something the real her likely wouldn’t show. A genuine and feeble look.

Cordelia and her young daughter, Victorique, might be physically small, but they possessed spirits as resilient as that of ancient witches, unyielding to anyone or anything. The pitiable appearance of the illusion brought a sense of satisfaction to Marquis de Blois.

On that day, he should have made his gentle brother suffer and beg for his life before ending it. He was too young for such thoughts then. He regretted missing that opportunity now.

Leaving the illusion of the pitiful creature on the roof, Marquis de Blois disembarked the carriage gallantly. They had arrived at the Phantom theater in the heart of Saubreme.

This place held significance for the Ministry of the Occult, as it was here where they secretly captured a legendary Gray Wolf wandering the town sixteen years ago. The Ministry was currently using the defunct underground hall as a facility.

Marquis de Blois swiftly entered the theater. Passing through doors shaped like a lion’s open mouth, he walked down the corridor covered in a resplendent red carpet.

Even after the war started, the theater remained open for some time, bustling with people seeking entertainment. However, for the past three months, there had been no performances. Most of the actors, actresses, and dancers had evacuated with their children.

The Marquis walked into the underground hall, weaving through the busy officials going about their tasks.

Listening to various reports, he occasionally glanced at a fountain in the corner of the hall, where the water had been turned off, and the wax figures affixed to the wall. These too turned into illusions, fleeing through fire or falling victim to aerial bombardment.

Upon receiving the report that the king would visit the Soleil Noir as planned tonight to hear the prediction of the Monstre Charmant, Marquis de Blois nodded grandly. His eye, appearing smaller behind his monocle, narrowed even more.

“His Majesty Rupert has been very anxious since the war began,” Marquis de Blois said with a chuckle. “He can’t decide between an aggressive and defensive stance, likely because he’s terrified of deciding the fate of the kingdom on his own. Whenever various departments offer differing opinions, he gets really shaken up.”

Marquis de Blois burst into joyful laughter. The phantom women started getting shot and engulfed in flames.

His eyes snapped wide open. “That’s exactly why he needs the prediction of the Monstre Charmant right now. He’s looking for something to make decisions for him, to give him a push, something with absolute power.” He snickered.

“But Your Grace…” A male subordinate furrowed his brows. “That monster’s predictive abilities for the near future are outstanding.”

“Yes.”

“But what His Majesty wants to know at the moment, whether to attack or defend, is something that can’t be predicted without a better understanding of the distant future.”

“I have that covered.” Marquis de Blois stared back at the man with a playful smile. The eye behind his monocle gleamed eerily. “I’ve already given instructions to significantly increase the dose of the drug.”

The official swallowed. “More than what we’re already giving it? B-But Sir…”

“I know. The drug’s dosage has consistently been kept at the highest safe limit. The maximum amount we could administer without putting its life in danger.”

“Yes…”

“However, is there anyone in this continent who actually wants that creature to live longer? Hearing the divine revelation is much more important. We will administer a dose of drugs beyond the limit, allowing it to foresee the distant future. Suppose… No. There is quite a high likelihood that tonight, the mind of that Monstre Charmant will burn out and shatter. But I will still be here.”

Marquis de Blois fell silent, then smiled a dark smile.

The Ministry of the Occult, the Kingdom of Sauville, the world—none need to rely on the monster forever!

“Your Grace?” the official called, but the Marquis could no longer hear his voice.

In front of him appeared a vision, an occult empire that only he could perceive.

Whatever becomes of Victorique de Blois, I can simply conceal it later. I will keep it away from the eyes of the public and present my own thoughts, claiming they’re the monster’s predictions!

Something soared across the sky of the illusory empire. A half-human, half-beast deity, with a robust body reminiscent of ancient sculptures and the magnificent legs of a white horse from the waist down—the illusionary form of Albert himself. He swept gallantly through the skies above the clouds, his green eyes glinting chillingly as he surveyed the wonderful Kingdom of Sauville that he had claimed as his own.

Yes, at that moment, both the Ministry of the Occult and I will finally attain true, limitless power. The realization of my longstanding plan. The king will be under my control, and I will take the place of that creature as the embodiment of ancient power.

Rupert, once king, trailed behind Albert, his white wings folded. He seemed almost like a loyal and timid attendant.

Marquis de Blois’s eyes, fixed on the illusion, sparkled with contentment.

We will fight to save Sauville and the sinking OId World, even if it costs us our lives!