It sounded urgent, yet he could feel the concern and affection directed toward him. Merely hearing the voice put his mind at ease.
He knew he needed to wake up, but unfortunately, he was so exhausted that he did not even have the strength to open his eyes.
“Lord Karl, please wake up…….”
Changin felt puzzled when the voice called him Karl.
Then, one by one, the things that had suddenly happened to him came rushing back.
The voice calling Karl disappeared.
Anxiety, tension, and the fear of death slowly crept up inside him.
Just as Karl tried to struggle in terror, something happened.
“Ghk!”
A horrific burning pain surged through his body alongside a sensation like electricity coursing through every limb, and Karl’s eyes flew open.
His body, forcibly awakened before it had received enough rest, felt as though it might collapse from the mere act of opening its eyes.
No.
Something was unmistakably wrong with his body. Karl could clearly sense a fragment of the force that had compelled him awake.
“…….”
Bewildered by the sudden situation, Karl tried to look for Cecile, but he could barely make a sound, much less move his body.
With great difficulty, he moved his eyes around the room and realized that someone was looking down at him through his blurred vision.
“……Karl….”
The voice sounded as though its owner were rolling an unfamiliar word from a foreign language around inside his mouth.
It was infinitely heavy, infinitely cold, and infinitely unyielding.
“I see. Judging by the look of you, you truly have lost your memories.”
The emotionless, low voice seemed to stab straight into him, and Karl’s eyes widened as though he had been burned.
“Y-Your Majesty….”
Cecile’s terrified voice reached him.
She was outside Karl’s field of vision, so he could not see her.
But regardless of that, Karl could not tear his gaze away from the man standing before him.
His coarse, stiff golden hair and beard resembled the mane of a powerful male lion.
Within them burned reddish-yellow eyes.
It was as though nothing else in the world existed but those eyes.
‘If she called him Your Majesty… Emperor Madius!’
Madius was an enemy Aingir faced early in the story.
He possessed overwhelming political ability and terrifying cunning. He was the absolute ruler who wielded every ounce of power within the thousand-year empire, and the monster produced by that very empire who stood behind every incident that occurred during the early part of the story.
But he left the story surprisingly early and gradually faded from memory as time went on.
That was why Karl had thought he was inferior to Aingir.
Or at least, that was what he had thought.
“…….”
How could the supreme ruler of a thousand-year empire, its great emperor, possibly be such a simple man?
A single indifferent look from Madius emptied Karl’s mind completely, as though he were staring directly into the sun.
“L-Lord Karl, your respects…!”
Even when Cecile’s terrified voice reached him, Karl could not look away from the sun that seemed to see straight through him.
He felt that the instant he averted his gaze, it would burn him away without leaving so much as a handful of ashes behind.
Karl felt the terror of death.
And at the same time, he felt an overwhelming desire to live.
The most primal and fervent instinct possessed by every living creature pounded violently against Karl’s mind.
Neither the terrible fever nor Madius’s scorching gaze could make Karl so much as blink.
Karl met the eyes of the great emperor of the thousand-year empire head-on without looking away.
Like prey refusing to turn its gaze from a predator, knowing that the moment it showed weakness, the predator would tear out its throat.
“…….”
Madius quietly observed his fourth son.
The boy had spent his entire life suffering from fever, never once leaving this small room. He had been so worthless that Madius had scarcely even remembered him, and he was destined to die before long.
Yet there was an unbelievably fierce desire to live burning within those eyes!
How could it burn so fiercely?
How could anyone desire life so desperately?
How could this child stand before him without looking away?
“Those eyes… are like those of a starving beast.”
Karl abruptly came to his senses at those words.
Chillingly, the instant Madius met Karl’s eyes, he had immediately noticed that there was something different about him.
“You possess nothing, yet you behave as though you have something to lose.”
Madius gave a casual wave of his hand, then turned around and left Karl’s room.
Beyond the open door, Karl caught a glimpse of countless unfamiliar people.
Karl could not even breathe.
The cryptic words Madius had left behind pressed heavily upon his shoulders and pierced his chest.
Only one thought barely surfaced in his frozen mind.
This was bad.
“Lord Karl.”
An unfamiliar voice called to him.
An elderly man whom Karl had no idea had even been standing there reached out politely, yet with a businesslike manner, and placed a hand against Karl’s chest.
HUM….
“I cannot cure the disease completely, but you should recover enough to move around on your own. Of course, the effect will not last long, so you will need to receive treatment at least four times a day.”
“…Why……?”
Karl asked as he felt his body grow more comfortable.
Why had they not treated him before if they had been capable of relieving his condition, even temporarily?
Why were they treating him now?
The old man answered in the same businesslike tone.
“His Majesty ordered me to do so. I am merely obeying his command.”
Madius had previously ordered them to leave Karl alone, saying that there was no manpower to waste on a worthless prince.
Yet after seeing his face just once, he had ordered them to treat him.
As the fog cleared from Karl’s mind, he realized that the situation had taken a very… peculiar turn.
Madius possessed no paternal affection whatsoever.
Yet that very man had taken action to postpone Karl’s death.
Madius’s eyes would now follow Karl.
He would no longer be free.
In other words, although Karl could preserve his life for the moment, his overall situation had become extraordinarily dangerous.
Emperor Madius, the origin of everything that had turned Aingir’s life and the empire itself into a sea of blood, was watching him.
Karl did not want to die.
And if he wanted to survive, he now had to do whatever it took.
He could not simply sit still and watch the situation unfold.
He had to move.
***
Karl knew how to cure his illness.
But he could not put that knowledge to use immediately.
If Karl, who had spent his entire life confined to his room, suddenly sprang to his feet and declared, ‘I know how to cure the disease that even the imperial physicians, among the finest doctors in the world, could not treat!’ then matters would undoubtedly become even more troublesome than they already were.
“Milton, is there truly no way to cure it?”
Karl asked Milton, the imperial physician who had now been assigned exclusively to him.
Milton was a middle-aged man with blackish-brown hair streaked with gray and tied behind his head. He was taciturn and rarely spoke, to the point that even Cecile had scarcely ever held a conversation with him.
“Not as far as I know.”
Milton answered bluntly.
At those words, Cecile became like a prisoner whose execution had merely been postponed by a single day, leaving her barely in her right mind.
Karl, meanwhile, was far too preoccupied with figuring out how to overcome this crisis to pay attention to either Cecile or Milton.
‘Think, Karl……. No, think, Han Changin!’
Karl desperately went back over everything Changin had read in The Iron-Blooded Emperor Rules.
Unfortunately, Changin had only read the novel casually to pass the time. He had not meticulously examined every minor detail of the setting and every piece of foreshadowing, so no brilliant idea suddenly came to him.
“…….”
Milton silently watched Karl chew anxiously at his lips with a pale face while desperately searching for some way to survive.
His dark brown eyes lowered toward the disheveled blanket.
“……If you are searching for something, perhaps you might try the Imperial Archives.”
At Milton’s quiet suggestion, Karl’s head snapped up.
He moved so abruptly that his teeth sank hard into his lip, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of blood.
“Am I allowed to enter?”
As Karl’s voice rose, Cecile also came back to her senses and looked imploringly at Milton.
“Unless a book has been forbidden by His Majesty’s command, there is no reason Lord Karl would be denied access to it.”
Karl felt as though he had been struck over the head.
‘Oh, right! I’m a prince now!’
Whatever else might be true, Karl was still the Fourth Prince of the Hardion Empire.
There was no reason he would be barred from the Imperial Archives!
‘They said there’s practically nothing the Imperial Archives don’t contain! That’s right, I remember now. Ingil found the medicine after remembering something he had seen in the Imperial Archives too!’
Karl suddenly felt hope pouring down upon him.
“I’ll go there right now!”
Karl hurriedly threw back the blankets and tried to rise.
But there was one thing he had failed to consider.
Karl—or rather, the Karl who had existed before Han Changin entered this novel—was a sickly, emaciated sixteen-year-old boy who had never once left this small room in his entire life.
“Lord Karl!”
Karl tried to push himself upright with his frail arms, only to collapse immediately.
A horrified Cecile rushed to support him.
The former Karl had never walked without someone’s assistance.
When he was young, Cecile had carried him in her arms like a baby. Even after Karl grew older, he would become exhausted and collapse after only a few difficult steps, despite Cecile supporting him.
“I-I’m all right.”
With Cecile’s help, Karl struggled upright. Without stopping there, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.
His legs trembled violently.
“Milton, could I not enter the archives with him?”
Cecile asked desperately.
“No.”
Milton did not even blink as he firmly crushed her hopes.
“I can walk by myself.”
Karl said the words and gritted his teeth before pushing Cecile’s hand away.
The instant her hand left him, however, he staggered violently and nearly fell.
Of course he had practically no muscle in his thighs or calves. He barely even possessed enough muscle to support his joints.
“Karl!”
Cecile screamed and tried to catch him, but Karl raised a hand and refused her help.
Fortunately, Karl managed to remain standing and walk on his own legs.
It was possible because he was no longer the Karl who had spent sixteen years surrendering to his condition.
He possessed Changin’s memories—the memories of someone who had spent decades walking and running on his own legs and regarded something as simple as walking as entirely natural.
“……Good heavens…….”
Surprisingly, the one who muttered those words was not Cecile but Milton.
Cecile was so overwhelmed that she covered her mouth tightly with both hands while tears streamed down her face.
“There. I can walk…….”
Karl gritted his teeth and staggered forward.
Even that much made him feel as though his ankle might buckle and snap.
Naturally, he would not be able to walk very far.
Karl knew that too.
But rather than remain here helplessly waiting for death, he would move even if all four of his limbs shattered in the process.
“…….”
Milton slowly closed his eyes as he watched Karl totter toward the door like a newborn fawn.
Then, after letting out a deep sigh, he supported Karl, who had ended up leaning against the door and trembling because he could not even open it, and opened the door for him.
“Ah….”
“I am permitted to enter the archives.”
“Ah, um…. Thank you.”
“You need not speak so formally to me.”
Milton continued supporting Karl as they left the room before Cecile even had the opportunity to say anything.
Milton walked silently with Karl leaning against him.
Karl was unusually small and emaciated for his age. Milton could easily have picked him up and carried him, and he knew that doing so would have allowed them to travel far more quickly.
Yet he never offered more assistance than necessary.
He simply allowed Karl to walk on his own legs.
“Huff, huff, huff….”
Before long, Karl stopped and panted for breath.
Milton stopped with him and silently waited.
Milton himself did not quite understand why he had helped Karl.
He did not know why he had mentioned the Imperial Archives or why he was giving assistance he had no obligation to provide.
Perhaps it was simply pity.
Whatever the case, Karl would die before long anyway.
Perhaps doing this much would at least leave Milton with a measure of personal satisfaction.
Karl, however, cared nothing about that.
His mind was filled solely with thoughts of survival.
Cecile and Milton were quite literally outside his consideration.
‘How can I make it look natural when I obtain the information?’
With that single thought in mind, Karl forgot his pain and continued forward in silence with Milton’s support.
***
‘Damn it!’
The moment Karl arrived at the Imperial Archives, he could not help cursing inwardly.
The Imperial Archives truly deserved to be called a place where all the knowledge in the world lay dormant.
Naturally, there were an absurd number of books.
There were even preserved clay tablets from ancient times, which said everything that needed to be said about the place.
At least he was fortunate that, just as he could speak and understand this world’s language, he could also read and write it…….
‘I’m supposed to find it in here? And make it look natural while I’m at it?’
Cold sweat broke out across his body.
Searching through a single one of those enormous bookshelves would probably take an entire month!
‘……No, wait. I don’t have to find it by myself.’
Karl looked up at Milton, who was supporting him.
“Milton, please help me.”
“…….”
Milton hesitated for a moment, apparently not expecting Karl to ask him for help so directly.
But he soon nodded slowly and helped Karl farther into the archives.
In truth, however, Milton was not the person Karl actually intended to ask for help.
Milton was an imperial physician, and he was a man who had already failed enough times at treating Karl to give up.
‘Third Prince Ias frequents the Imperial Archives.’
Third Prince Ias was an adventurous young man who had grown disgusted with the schemes and conspiracies of the imperial palace and longed to venture out into the wider world.
He had not the slightest interest in politics or power.
All he wanted was to leave the imperial palace someday and enjoy traveling.
On top of that, he wielded a spear with almost supernatural skill. Even Aingir, the overwhelmingly powerful protagonist, could not defeat Ias alone in a contest of martial strength.
The reason a man like Ias frequented the Imperial Archives was to search for mysterious and astonishing tales—the kind of stories that set a man’s heart racing.
In other words, if Karl was trying to cure a disease that conventional methods could not treat, Ias might just ‘mention’ a clue!
‘More importantly, Ias is kind enough that he would help me if I asked.’
As Ias was portrayed in the novel, he was the sort of man who would willingly extend a hand at least once to a useless younger brother like Karl, even within an imperial palace where a single word or gesture could threaten one’s life.
More importantly, if his sick younger brother, while searching for a cure, asked him to tell a few mysterious stories that happened to suit his interests, Ias would gladly recount the strange tales he had discovered as many times as Karl wished.
Ias was that kind of admirable, broad-minded man.
At least during the early part of the story.
Of course, Karl had once regarded Madius as nothing more than an early-story villain who soon disappeared. Yet after meeting him in person, Karl had discovered that he was a great emperor whose sheer presence made it difficult even to breathe.
Considering that, Karl would have to meet Ias personally before he could know what kind of man he truly was.
‘Please, let me meet him soon…!’
Karl prayed desperately.
After all, he did not want to die.
And now, even Karl himself no longer knew how much time he had left.