Antidote

Was it like this in the past too?

When I was the High Lord of Guntram and the Duke of Karlac?

My face flushed with shame.

Of course not.

But what reason do I have to be ashamed of revealing the confusion in my heart now that I am no longer the High Lord of Guntram or the Duke of Karlac? At the same time, I couldn’t help but think that the person to whom the Lord of Ipsen, that young and strong knight, whispered his desperate love wasn’t as weak, foolish, or pathetic as I am now.

Oh, how foolish!

Why am I jealous of my past self?

I hastily dropped the copper coin in my hand as if it had suddenly become scorching hot. The coin rolled across the fountain’s floor. It rolled for a while before stopping against the opposite wall. After trembling briefly, it fell flat with the side facing forward like a drawn bow.

A surge of indescribable emotion welled up between my lungs.

I forced strength into my trembling knees, stood up, walked to the other side of the fountain, and flipped the coin over again.

Absentmindedly, I sat on the edge of the fountain and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were slowly drifting across the sky. Sunlight occasionally pierced through the clouds, only to disappear again. Thin snowflakes fell on my shoulders and the top of my head.

Just then, I heard footsteps from the other side of the corridor.

My ears perked up sharply. I jumped to my feet. My head turned, like a sunflower chasing the sun. And before I could even be disappointed in myself, I was even more disappointed that the person who emerged between the pillars of the corridor wasn’t him.

It was a wizard in a black robe.

I knew him.

“…Ismion.”

When I called his name, Ismion tilted his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. He quickly passed through the corridor and approached me.

“Why are you here?”

He asked, and I lowered my head.

“Just….”

I trailed off, only tapping the ridges between the tiles with the tip of my foot.

After a moment, Ismion sighed.

“It must be cold… Have you been here long?”

I only shook my head. A faint sense of embarrassment crept up inside me for being discovered by Ismion in this place. Of course, this corridor wasn’t mine alone, and anyone, not just Ismion, could pass through, but still….

“And you, Ismion?”

“I….”

He started to say something, then furrowed his brows deeply.

It was only then that I noticed his shadow, rippling like dark blue waves at his feet. The surface of his shadow gleamed and flowed slowly as if it were molten metal. My eyes widened, and at that moment, Ismion stomped his right foot once. The rippling shadow settled down.

“Hm… ahem. Lord Slan. Seeing as you’re just sitting here, you don’t seem to be particularly busy. If you’re waiting for Sir Jiyod, why not wait inside?”

“Inside?”

“Yes.”

“Inside where?”

“Where else?”

He looked at me strangely.

“The Ipsen residence, of course.”

“Oh, but….”

“Don’t worry about it. That barbarian… I mean, Sir Jiyod would be more concerned that you’re out here in this cold weather than anything else.”

“Is it okay? Ismion, aren’t you busy….”

“I’m not busy.”

He answered indifferently.

“Get up. Let’s head back together. If you don’t want to be noticed….”

He bent down and lightly touched my shoulder with the tip of his index finger. In that moment, a shimmering veil swept across the surface of my clothes.

“It’s using light refraction… it won’t completely hide you, but it should help you avoid some attention.”

I blinked.

“This is sorcery….”

“Shh.”

He brought a finger to his lips, still expressionless.

“Or am I perhaps extending a kindness that’s not needed? Were you planning to return to Glenburg Manor? If that’s the case, then right now….”

“No.”

I hurriedly answered.

“It’s just, since Sir Jiyod seems to be away… I could wait here….”

“Why bother worrying about that? Don’t worry about it. That man is busy dealing with the heads of the Triumvirate at court. If he finds out I left you here alone, he’ll storm out of the court and break my neck… so coming with me is saving my life.”

“Sir Jiyod is at the court now?”

“Yes.”

“For what reason? Did the Duke of Karlac summon him?”

“A few different matters. The Duke of Karlac? Did he summon him?”

He wore a deeply cynical expression.

“That woman doesn’t even want to see the face of the Lord of Ipsen. Today’s agenda… well, it’s a different issue. There are all sorts of complicated matters. Anyway… that’s not important. Are you coming or not? I’m cold.”

I awkwardly got to my feet and began to follow Ismion.

It was the first time I had come to Jiyod’s residence by walking on my own, without being led by his hand or embraced by him, and before sunset—at least as far as I could remember.

The residence looked even more desolate than it did at night. I gazed at a few laurel trees in the garden, their dry branches swaying.

The entire building was silent. Dark, cold air lingered in the narrow corridor.

“Ha, it’s because there’s no one to manage this place… That Urkal insisted on doing it himself, but look at this. Does this look like a place where people live?”

Ismion grumbled as he led me into a certain chamber.

The room was large and very messy.

In the center of the room was a large round table, surrounded by a few chairs in disarray. On the table were a plate with a few remaining raisins, a copper cup, a candlestick with melted wax pooled around it, a blackened glass lamp, books, scraps of paper, an inkwell, and quill pens, all scattered without any order.

A large iron sword was mounted on one wall. Below it, on a hard chair, books were piled high and precariously.

Ismion quickly walked over to the fireplace. He picked up a poker and stirred the coals. The fire blazed up. He tossed aside the poker and went to the round table to relight the glass lamp.

“This is….”

“It’s the room we use. We talk about all sorts of things here. Sometimes we fight, plot murders, occasionally eat, Jiyod beats up the cook, and two days ago, Lady Lea broke Urkal’s molar.”

He spoke so casually that I momentarily didn’t register the part about “plotting murders.” I furrowed my brows, unsure how to react, and Ismion shrugged at me.

“Should I take you to Sir Jiyod’s room? But it’s dirty there. The bedroom’s a mess too….”

My ears perked up at his words.

“The bedroom is dirty?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. Although, even if you do, there’s nothing I can do about it… it’s not like that.”

“I never thought that. It’s just….”

Embarrassed, I hurried to explain. Then I glanced around the room.

“…Is it messier than here?”

“About the same. But if that lunatic, I mean, if Sir Jiyod finds out I showed you his dirty bedroom, he’d probably break my neck.”

“Should I clean it?”

At that question, Ismion’s expression was like he’d just seen an ostrich lay an elephant egg.

“Clean… it…?”

He shook his hand like a broken wind-up toy, rattling as he did so.

“Whose neck are you trying to get broken… No, it’s fine. For now… just sit over there.”

“How did it get dirty? It was the same as usual when I went there yesterday.”

When I persisted with my questions, Ismion’s eyebrow twitched. He finally sighed.

“Don’t tell Sir Jiyod. Yesterday… there was a bit of an incident. I suggested handling it in the sitting room instead, but he insisted on doing it in the bedroom… Anyway, that man’s terrible taste….”

“What did he do?”

My heart pounded.

?

Could that noble-looking knight have… perhaps… brought a prostitute to his bedroom? And then made such a mess of the bedroom that it couldn’t be shown to anyone? My imagination soared to wild extremes.

“Don’t imagine strange things, Lord Slan.”

“I-I wasn’t….”

“You had the exact look of someone imagining something strange.”

My cheeks burned, and I turned my head away.

Ismion declared coolly.

“You don’t need to worry; that lunatic wouldn’t do anything else while you’re around.”

His words made my face flush even more.

“Anyway, the reason the bedroom got dirty… after you left yesterday… well, I’m not sure how much I should say, but since it’s you….”

He muttered to himself, then looked up at me again.

“That guy’s got a spot of trouble. It’s been happening occasionally since that day two years ago. But don’t tell Sir Jiyod I said this, okay?”

“A spot of trouble?”

My heart sank and wavered. But Ismion’s expression remained unmoved.

“Yes, a bit. It’s not as serious as what you went through. So there’s no need to worry.”

“And he’s okay now?”

Ismion replied in a cold tone.

“Yes. It was just a brief episode, nothing serious. A simple treatment, and he’s fine again. And even if it wasn’t, what does it matter? He’s a brute who wouldn’t die even if you killed him… Anyway, the room got a bit messy because of that treatment. I told him to come out, but he insisted on staying in the bedroom… poor Urkal had a hard time because of it.”

My mind was a jumble.

Could it be that the fever he mentioned last time wasn’t a lie after all?

Ismion interrupted my thoughts.

“Anyway, so that guy’s not in a good mood today. He probably went to the court just to vent his anger… Hmm, it’s a shame I won’t get to see that. But anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Surely, he won’t beat us to a pulp with you around, right? Urkal and I usually just shut up and take the hits, but Sir Lea… well, that woman has quite a temper too… Huh, really.”

It was an unbelievable story. A man as upright and kind as Jiyod being rough with his subordinates? I decided to think that Ismion’s words were somewhat exaggerated.

“Oh, by the way, have you eaten? It seems like it’s past lunchtime.”

“I have.”

“Good. If that madman found out I let you sit here starving… no, anyway, please don’t tell him I said any of this?”

“I won’t.”

People say they criticize the Duke of Karlac behind his back, so Ismion might as well complain a little about his boss, Jiyod. I nodded quietly.

“I’ll bring some tea. Would tangerine tea with cinnamon be fine?”

Ismion mentioned what I liked as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I blinked a few times, looking up at him. I couldn’t help but laugh. I chuckled softly for a moment. A puzzled expression appeared on Ismion’s cold and stern face.

“Why are you laughing?”

“No reason, really. Thank you. Tangerine tea with cinnamon sounds perfect.”

“Alright….”

Ismion still looked at me skeptically. But as he left the room, his parting words made me burst out laughing again.

“I’ll only add half a spoon of honey.”

Ismion left the room, looking at me as if I were crazy.

Ah, left alone, I laughed pointlessly several more times.

Why do these people…

Why do they remember things about me that even I don’t recall?

It felt like someone was prying open my ribs and tickling me with downy feathers.

I wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of my eyes and got up from the chair.

Since Ismion hadn’t said anything, I wandered around the room, looking here and there. Various papers and parchments were scattered on the round table, most of which had strange drawings or numbers I couldn’t understand.

As I passed by one side of the round table’s arc, my elbow caught the edge of a rolled-up scroll, causing it to fall with a thud. Startled, I quickly bent down to pick it up.

It was a large scroll, about the length of my arm. It was quite heavy and thick. As I picked it up, the latch seemed to have loosened during the fall, and the end of the scroll unrolled, revealing its contents.

“Oh….”

My eyes widened.

It was a map.

I instinctively spread it out wider.

There, marked in large, bold letters, was our Eastern Karlac. I spread my hands and placed the scroll on the round table, pulling at the rolled-up end with my left hand. The rest of the map was revealed.

It was a map of our entire continent.

My gaze wandered over the red ink.

The central and western parts of the continent, including Eastern Karlac and York, were drawn in great detail. Karlac Castle, in particular, was depicted with much more precision than any other place. The positions of the outer and inner walls, the gates, and even their sizes… The dotted lines along the banks of the Koivisto River surrounding Karlac indicated the flood range.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

Suddenly, someone banged on the brass doorknob with force.

Startled, I let go of the map and stepped back.

But the firmly closed door remained silent.

The pounding noise continued.

Ah… it was the sound of my heart beating. I placed my left hand over my chest and pressed it down. With a deep breath, my heart gradually calmed down.

I slowly approached the round table again, bowing my head to look at the map.

To draw the detailed layout of Karlac Castle and to leak it outside… That was a crime almost as serious as treason. And yet, such an incredible item was just lying around here carelessly… I forced myself to steady my racing heart as I glanced at the map, peeking at it little by little. At first, I intended to look only a little, but before I knew it, I was poring over the map, completely engrossed in its details.

The roads, winding and twisting, extended in all directions from Eastern Karlac. The road stretching southeast reached Glenburg, Movik Synen, and the vast canyon of Mannerheim. It felt like I was dreaming as I followed that road. My heart wandered along with it as if wings had sprouted from my feet. The majestic mountain ranges, the sheer cliffs, the deep crevasses…

The road then climbed northward along the canyon. Where the canyon ended, Södergran, the central trade route of Karlac, stood grandly. The imposing walls and tall, straight towers of Södergran appeared before my eyes like a mirage. From Södergran, the road followed the Tabros Mountains westward… to Strubbin… and then Ipsen.

“Quite detailed, isn’t it?”

That voice made me nearly jump a meter into the air. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would break through my ribs.

“I-Ismion!”

My gaze darted up to the ceiling, then down to my toes, then side to side.

Ismion stood in the doorway, holding a tray.

“I didn’t mean to look at it….”

My voice trembled uncontrollably.

But Ismion calmly walked over to the round table and set the tray down. Two porcelain cups were placed on it. Hot steam rose with a sweet aroma.

“I helped draw that map too. You know, the southern part… near the capital. It was such a hassle to draw….”

“The south?”

“Yes.”

He nodded and abruptly handed me a cup. I took it reflexively. The fragrant scent of cinnamon and tangerine wafted up.

“You probably don’t remember, but I’m originally from the capital. It’s been about four years since I came to Karlac. Well, it turns out settling in Karlac was a pretty foolish decision…”

“The capital? The Magic Kingdom?”

My gaze naturally fell on the hand holding the cup. I noticed the ring bearing the Karlac mage’s emblem on his pinky finger. Ismion casually switched the cup to his other hand and then deliberately raised the hand with the ring to show it to me.

“Oh, this?”

A cynical smile appeared on his lips.

“You’d be surprised how many rigged trials I had to pass to get this ring. To those idiots, I had to declare that all my lifelong research was just sorcery and that true magic is only Karlac’s… idiotic… magic… ha!”

He clicked his tongue and then brought the cup to his lips.

After taking a sip, he stepped closer to me and pointed at the map.

“So, how does it feel to see the map you drew again?”

“What?”

My voice rose.

Ismion’s eyes narrowed slightly at my reaction. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again.

“My goodness. What on earth is Madam Lisbeth giving you? You don’t remember even that?”

“I…”

“No, no. I’m not blaming you. It can’t be helped.”

“You’re saying I drew this?”

“Not all of it, but almost. Yes, you drew it. You had a talent for this sort of thing—scale calculations, design, architecture… If you’d been born in the capital, you would’ve become a mage.”

“But I don’t have any magical power…”

“Yes, I know. In the capital, even those with little to no magical power can become mages. The magic core technology has advanced significantly in recent years, but never mind. Ha, what am I even saying…”

He clicked his tongue and muttered quietly.

“Anyway, this is a masterpiece. A magnum opus, really. It’s not finished yet, though. Much of the central region is incomplete. Kyrda is nearly done, but the nearby areas like Kelven and Iota are still lacking since there aren’t many who know the terrain. The locals there are notoriously hostile to outsiders. Not that Karlac is much better.”

My gaze fell on the empty parts of the map. Ismion continued talking.

“Even so, no one—neither the mages from the capital nor the court magicians—could calculate such a detailed map. Let alone of the entire continent… Only someone as crazy as you would even think of drawing something like this.”

Then he glanced at me slyly.

“Not that I’m saying you’re crazy… Anyway, I did help a little with it.”

As if in a trance, my gaze fixed on the map again. My fingertips traced the rough surface of the map.

“Why did I…?”

Why did I draw this map?

I wanted to ask, but I felt that even Ismion wouldn’t know the answer to that question. That thought crossed my mind.

After staring blankly at the map for a while, I suddenly realized I was still holding the teacup he had given me. I brought it to my lips. The tea had cooled slightly, making it perfect to drink. The sweet liquid, mixed with cinnamon, wetted my tongue.

I looked at Ismion. He sat across from me in silence.

“Weren’t you busy with something?”

“What?”

“In the corridor… Weren’t you going somewhere?”

“Oh.”

Ismion made a slightly uncomfortable expression.

He bit his lip, and a brief look of confusion crossed his cold face.

“Uh, well, it’s fine now. So… don’t worry about it. No, I mean, I’m not telling you to stop caring… Anyway, shall we talk more about the map? Do you have any questions? I’m sure you and Sir Jiyod are all over each other whenever you meet, kissing and all that.”

His words made my face flush again. I awkwardly looked away from him, staring down at my feet. The heat that had risen to my cheeks reached the tips of my ears and then traveled down to my neck. My shoulders even tingled slightly.

Why does he talk like that?

As my embarrassment subsided, it was replaced by disbelief. I glanced at him, only to have Ismion respond coldly.

“Don’t look at me like that. If that lunatic finds out you looked at me like that, he’ll gouge out my eyes.”

“…….”

I opened my mouth slightly, then closed it again. I decided to ask a different question.

“Have you been to Ipsen?”

“Oh.”

His eyes widened slightly, as if the question caught him off guard. He tilted his head slightly to the left.

“Yes, I’ve been there. Come to think of it, you’ve never actually been to Ipsen, have you?”

His response confirmed that I had indeed never been to Ipsen.

Of course, that wasn’t surprising.

Ipsen hasn’t been part of our Eastern Karlac territory for very long.

Ipsen’s people crossed the Alto Sea from the west hundreds of years ago and settled on this continent, building cities along the northwestern coast. With their swift ships, they roamed the nearby seas and islands, engaging in looting and plundering. As the years passed, their power gradually expanded southward.

Eastern Karlac, isolated by the great mountains to the north and deep ravines and crevasses to the east, had never been a city with frequent external interactions—whether friendly or hostile.

Conflict with the Ipsen, who constantly eyed Karlac’s fertile lands from the north, was inevitable.

Unlike the large cities of Antioch and Port Town in the north, blocked by the Tabros Mountain Range, or Kiridara in the central south, separated by the Tanalan Great Gorge, there was nothing to stop the Ipsen moving along the western coast. Hundreds of years of power struggles. Thousands of skirmishes. What the Ipsen hadn’t realized was that the Karlac people had left them alone for hundreds of years not because they couldn’t respond, but because there hadn’t been a need. If they had known about Karlac’s founders and the bloody, massacre-stained history of Karlac, they would have realized that Karlac would not have remained silent once there was a reason and opportunity to act.

Jiyod’s Ipsen heritage. The Ipsen’s hatred toward Karlac. The painful lives of countless Ipsen slaves dragged to Karlac. The wars of conquest and slaughter. Rather than dwell on these thoughts, I chose to ask a different question.

“What kind of place is it?”

“Cold.”

He stated firmly.

“I swear, you won’t like it there. There’s no need to go. The sea breeze reeks of salt, and all you can eat is salted pollock, salted herring, salted oysters, salted crab, salted anchovies, salted cod, and… well, everything’s just salted.”

“Salt…”

“Well, there’s plenty of salt. There’s a huge salt farm there, and nine-tenths of the salt distributed in Karlac comes from that place. Unless you want to be poisoned, I suggest you avoid going there. Especially in front of Sir Jiyod, don’t even mention the first word of Ipsen. If it’s you saying it, he might remember every single word and later use it as an excuse to drag you off to Ipsen.”

Ismion’s tone was sharp, as if his memories of Ipsen weren’t pleasant. But I was excited by his mention that ‘Jiyod might take me to Ipsen.’

“There’s less snow than Stravin, but it’s colder because it’s by the sea. The only good thing is that there’s no autumn sandstorm.”

“What about the castle?”

“They restored an Ipsen castle thirty years ago, and it’s still in use. But the restoration wasn’t fully completed. The Lord of Ipsen hardly spends more than a month there in a year, so many areas are unused. It feels a bit eerie. The ghosts of the Ipsen lord and his relatives who were executed there thirty years ago… Hmm. It wouldn’t be surprising if they’re really there. But there were thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of Ipsen people who died there thirty years ago, and the place isn’t big enough for all their ghosts to settle.”

I wondered if Jiyod would feel uneasy living in the castle where his ancestors were murdered.

“Is Sir Jiyod okay with staying there?”

“Ha! Are you seriously worried right now?”

Ismion clicked his tongue.

“Please don’t. That guy would sit on the corpse he just killed and calmly eat meat. Honestly, watching him act all innocent in front of you makes me feel… Oh, and never say this to that crazy guy, okay?”

“Got it.”

I smiled again inwardly.

“Tell me more about Ipsen.”

“It’s really a boring place… How about I tell you about the capital instead? I swear, it’s a million times more interesting than that Ipsen backwater. The gold in the capital is so dazzling that…”

He changed the subject. I found that story interesting too.

The tales about the southern magic kingdom where he was born and raised were so fantastical (like covering the entire exterior of a sky-high castle with gold, or wizards changing the climate so there’s no winter) that I was once again convinced that Ismion tended to exaggerate. The stories about Jiyod probably had their fair share of exaggerations too.

Despite that, the stories were fascinating.

Especially the ones about the monsters known as heavenly angels circling the sky (“They’re not monsters, they’re summoned creatures!”) and the powerful court wizards who could summon rain clouds, strike lightning, and tear up the earth (“There are only two of them!”) sounded like ancient myths, a bit absurd but captivating nonetheless.

As I was engrossed in his stories, I heard quick footsteps approaching from outside. The familiar clinking sound of a steel sword’s hilt hitting a leather belt.

I immediately turned my head. Ismion, who was gesturing excitedly as he explained the incredible magic of the capital, fell silent. And at that moment, the door swung open.

Jiyod stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.

His golden hair was slightly disheveled, as if caught in a rough wind. I could see faint traces of sweat at his temples. He smelled of musk, steel, and a light hint of sweat.

He strode into the room.

“You’re early.”

Ismion frowned as he spoke. But Jiyod didn’t even glance his way, instead rushing over to me and pulling me into his arms. My hips lifted off the chair, and my upper body pressed against his chest.

“Tut.”

I heard Ismion click his tongue behind me. Jiyod kicked one of the round table’s legs with a thud, and Ismion fell silent.

Jiyod bent down and pressed his lips to my forehead.

“Did you wait long? Ismion said he brought you here, but that damned Triumvirate wouldn’t let me go!”

He growled softly and then kissed my eyelids. Just as his lips were about to move lower…

“Wait. Before you two start making out, hold on. Sir Jiyod, I need to talk to you.”

Ismion’s cold voice made Jiyod pause for a fraction of a second—just a split second—before he resumed, devouring my lips without hesitation.

“Hey!”

Ismion shouted from behind. Flustered, I turned my head away to escape Jiyod’s lips.