OPDSP 38

She was one of the many porters—a plain, unassuming woman who normally drew no attention. Only the leader of the porters recognized her and let out a faint groan.

The vice-commander dragged her forward and forced her to kneel before the Grand Duke.

“Wh-why have I been summoned…? I don’t know anything…”

“What is it that you don’t know?”

The Grand Duke’s question made her tremble. Her reaction was no different from the three before her. At a glance, it seemed like they had dragged in someone completely unrelated. But there was clearly a reason the Grand Duke had ordered her brought in.

“I’m not a man with time to waste. Stop playing games. Spy.”

The woman’s eyes widened. She froze for a moment, then shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“No… I’m not… a spy… I—!”

She didn’t finish her sentence. The vice-commander’s blade was at her throat in an instant.

“His Grace said not to waste time. We’ve known what you are from the start. Don’t bother resisting.”

“From the start…?”

She looked at the Grand Duke in shock. He stared down at her with that same cold expression, as if there was nothing remotely surprising about the situation.

He had known since the moment she volunteered for the purge unit that she was a spy—who she worked for, what her purpose was. All of it.

But he’d let her be, because she wasn’t much of a threat. Her master was the former Grand Duchess—the Grand Duke’s stepmother. A paranoid woman who could never rest without knowing everything.

“Seems Her Grace is fully within Your Grace’s grasp,” the woman muttered bitterly.

The Grand Duke didn’t care. There was only one reason he had summoned this spy he had left alone until now.

“I’ll ask you this—You saw someone suspicious, didn’t you?”

“…You’re sure I did?”

“Rats recognize their own.”

The woman hesitated. The Grand Duke must need the information she had. If so, perhaps she could negotiate.

She began to consider her options—but then their eyes met. Even though he said nothing, the weight of his gaze crushed her thoughts. In that brief instant, her resolve collapsed.

“There was someone else, like me, watching Your Highness. I’m certain it was the same person—they behaved the same—but always with a different face.”

“Who is it?”

“A medic named Ronar.”

The Grand Duke glanced at the commander of the knights. The commander immediately moved to apprehend Ronar.

“Ronar, huh. I’ve heard that name recently…”

He’d been the one who testified on Aeryl’s behalf, when Fedel’s and Aeryl’s statements conflicted. Why, of all people, would a suspicious figure side with Aeryl?

A crease formed on the Grand Duke’s brow.

It was the first visible shift in his expression that night, and everyone remaining in the tent stiffened in response. They waited tensely for his next move. The Grand Duke felt it. His heightened senses picked up every flicker of emotion around him—and it was exhausting.

“That’s enough. You can go.”

He waved a hand dismissively.

“What about her?” the vice-commander asked, referring to the porter.

“Leave her be. She serves the Lady—I should show some respect.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The vice-commander took the porter and exited. The other officers soon followed. Only when the tent flap closed behind them did the Grand Duke exhale softly. There would be no sleep for him tonight, either. Weighed down by exhaustion, he leaned back and shut his eyes.

But once still, the heightened sensitivity in his body refused to settle. Aeryl’s pheromones came to mind without effort. How blissful it would be, to rest while bathed in that sweet scent. The comfort and peace Aeryl gave him far surpassed anything medicine could offer.

He must be asleep by now.

He’d told Aeryl not to come tonight. There was too much going on. And his condition had stabilized enough to skip a day of examination. He hadn’t expected to miss Aeryl’s presence so keenly.

But it would be over soon. Aeryl had made it clear he intended to remain in the village, and the Grand Duke had no intention of dragging him away.

It’s for the best.

As time passed and distance grew, the comfort Aeryl offered would fade from memory. The Grand Duke was not a man who should be allowed to have such soft feelings.

He opened his eyes.

The knight commander rushed into the tent.

Something had gone wrong. He could feel it in his bones.

“Your Highness. You need to see for yourself.”

“What’s happened?”

“He’s dead.”

As expected.

This kind of instinct was never wrong.

The Grand Duke headed to Ronar’s tent with the knight commander. The medics’ tents were clustered around the infirmary. When the Grand Duke arrived, the guards stationed out front opened the flap. Inside, they saw Kyla examining a body dressed in a medic’s uniform.

“This is the one?”

“Yes.”

The Grand Duke looked down at the man who had impersonated Ronar. His face was grotesquely swollen, and white foam clung to his lips. Yet even so, it was a face the Grand Duke had never seen before.

“This is the man who posed as Ronar?”

“Yes.”

“Poisoned?”

“No, it seems he took poison himself,” Kyla replied to the Grand Duke’s question.

“Your Highness, we found this.”

One of the knights handed him a note recovered from the desk. It was a suicide letter written by the imposter himself.

His real name was Akim, the son of a merchant. Two years ago, his father had been executed after being caught dealing in illegal trade. With the family ruined, Akim came to harbor a deep grudge against the Grand Duke.

Though unremarkable in most ways, he had kept one ability hidden: the power to transform into another person. He decided to use that power to exact revenge, and for the past two years, he had prepared.

This year, the night before the purge unit gathered at the Grand Duchy, he secretly killed Ronar, assumed his identity, and joined the campaign.

Using the candle, he summoned monsters and, in the resulting chaos, tried to assassinate the Grand Duke. He knew it would likely cost him his life, but he didn’t care—revenge was worth any price.

But the plan failed. When he saw the Grand Duke gathering the divisions heads, he realized he was being hunted. Before he could be captured and executed, he drank the poison he had prepared.

“We were a step too late,” the knight commander said.

The Grand Duke reread the letter, then turned his gaze to the corpse—Akim, not Ronar. He remembered punishing a merchant guild two years ago.

Human trafficking. That was it.

Everyone involved had been punished. The merchant’s son, found to be studying elsewhere and uninvolved in the guild’s dealings, had been spared. The face of the corpse now did resemble the boy he’d seen then.

Nothing inconsistent.

The motive, the circumstances—it all lined up. No contradictions. It made sense. Everything checked out. And yet, something felt off. Was it just the frustration of missing him by a hair? Or was there something more?

“Search the area. Don’t overlook a single detail. Report everything.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Normally, a case like this would be wrapped up and the body dumped in the woods. But the Grand Duke still felt uneasy.

“Don’t dispose of the body. Preserve it and arrange a separate transport.”

He planned to take it back to the Grand Duchy for closer examination.

With his orders given, the Grand Duke stepped out of the tent. The cold air stung his face.

An enemy hidden within had died on his own. That meant they could focus solely on the purge from now on. Everything was going smoothly—so why did something still gnaw at him?

Was it just hypersensitivity? Or was there a real reason? His head felt heavy with fatigue.

Three days remained.

He could only hope no more unforeseen variables would arise.

***

Day eight of the subjugation campaign.

Aeryl rose just before dawn and made his way to the infirmary. It was still early to be active, but he walked briskly. With so many patients, the medics had created a rotation schedule. His shift ran from dawn until midmorning.

Though it was still technically night, the sky was lightening. The entire camp was bathed in a deep blue glow, and the familiar landscape looked strangely unfamiliar. Enjoying the odd mood of the morning, Aeryl came to a stop.

This path leads to the Grand Duke’s tent.

Without thinking, he’d nearly walked straight there. He turned to change direction, then paused, gazing at the distant tent. The banner marking the Grand Duke’s presence hung limp and tattered, an unsightly sight.

‘Nothing happened during the night… right?’

It was the first night he hadn’t gone to check on the Grand Duke. He’d slept deeply and felt refreshed, but the worry was still there.

‘It’s not like I’ve only seen him collapse once or twice.’

Maybe he should just go take a quick look?