I Possessed The Immoral Empress

Ermond smiled with satisfaction upon receiving Countess Brienta’s letter. With the perfect sacrificial pawn in place, the curse would be fully realized, and Trivian’s capital would soon be in ruins. Moreover, the temple factions were divided and distracted, leaving no one to monitor the suspicious magic circles around the capital.

With all the mages sent to the front lines, it was the perfect time to complete the curse magic. However, Ermond couldn’t leave his position, as he planned to cast a massive curse over the entire border area as soon as Ermedeline arrived.

Countess Brienta had willingly offered her blood, even stating that she wouldn’t mind using all of it, just to announce her existence as a powerful mage to the world. Being known as the mage who destroyed the capital of the great Trivian Empire would surely earn her the title of grand mage, despite the accompanying infamy.

No one could deny that Ermedeline was a great mage, even if they called her a witch. Countess Brienta desired eternal fame, even if it came with a bad reputation.

For the large-scale curse, an essential component was a sacrificial offering. Ordinary curses could be completed using the caster’s anger and hatred, but a massive curse required blood. Ermond needed a sacrificial pawn who held deep resentment towards Henry, Ermedeline, and Trivian as a whole.

News of Valliere, who had lost the Emperor’s child and was now confined as a mistress, reached him as he searched for a suitable offering. He instructed Countess Brienta to slowly consume Valliere’s wounded heart, preparing her as the perfect sacrifice. Yet, Valliere’s soul descended into darkness on its own, needing no further manipulation.

Initially, Ermond had considered subjecting her to a horrific event to complete the large-scale curse, but she threw herself into the flames of tragedy on her own, like a moth drawn to the fire, unaware of her imminent destruction.

Her fury now extended beyond Henry and Ermedeline, reaching the nobles and commoners of the capital. While Ermond wasn’t aware of Valliere’s hatred towards the entire world, he knew she would be an excellent sacrificial offering.

After the mages and the healers left the capital, Countess Brienta began pouring her blood into the magic circles created by Duke Francoise before his death, as well as those drawn by Duke Batistian around the capital.

‘To think the proposal was genuine. Well, if I have no loyalty to my country, why should other ministers be any different?’

According to the spies and Countess Brienta’s investigations, Duke Batistian’s magic circle was surprisingly not a trap. It was a pure amplifier of power that could be used in any way.

‘This works out perfectly. Thanks to Her Majesty luring his son, everything fell into place easily.’

Soon, the Trivian Empire would be ravaged by curses at both the border and the capital. Henry, who had used the Francoise family to become emperor and then discarded the duke, and Ermedeline, who had inherited such talent and yet betrayed her family and caused her father’s death, along with the detestable nobles, would all be eliminated.

‘Just a little more, just a little more, and the revenge will be complete.’

***

The news that Ermedeline had been dragged to the battlefield reached Leopold long after the rear guard had already departed.

Crash!

Langen shook his head as he watched yet another wine glass shatter at the hands of his master.

“It’s not just Her Majesty the Empress who has been conscripted. Even those over seventy are heading to the battlefield.”

“Damn it! Damn it!”

But Langen’s rational response did little to calm Leopold. While it was fortunate that Frianton had initiated the war at this moment, Leopold had never anticipated that the Empress, Ermedeline, would personally be sent to the front lines. He was on the verge of losing his mind.

“Most of the troops near the border have already moved close to the capital. The best thing we can do now is to take complete control of the capital and protect Prince Ferdant.”

“Phew…”

Leopold understood this intellectually, but the battlefield—Ermedeline was headed to the battlefield. Dragging such a delicate woman to such a horrific place made his heart feel like it was going to explode with worry.

“Isn’t Lord Felio and Priest Arvian with her? The one who survived even after taking that enormous magic head-on should come back safely this time too.”

“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

Leopold was not only terrified by the prospect of Ermedeline’s potential death, but also by the thought of Felio being by her side in such a life-and-death situation. He clung to the hope that once she escaped her perilous position and started a family with Ferdant, she would naturally return to him.

He envisioned ousting Henry from the palace, eliminating all the nobles who had plotted against Ermedeline, and heroically rescuing her from her lonely tower. To the world, she might be seen as an evil witch, but to Leopold, Ermedeline was still the nineteen-year-old girl he needed to save.

A fragile girl who caught colds easily in the early spring chill, yet was incredibly strong, having survived relentless torture and never giving up on life. He respected and loved the strength within her delicate frame, yet it also saddened him. Her resilience and immunity to poison and curse magic were not voluntary; they were the result of enduring horrific pain.

Leopold was the only person who knew that inside Ermedeline lived a girl who dreamed of a world she had never seen. He once sent her a reply with a poorly drawn dolphin, a drawing so bad that even Langen, peeking from the side, couldn’t help but laugh.

He chuckled softly at the memory of that terrible drawing, of the time they dreamed of escaping together, and of that hopeful heart.

Witch? Yes. Let the world call her a demon and point fingers at her. It didn’t matter. He intended to clear every obstacle in their path and end like a prince and princess in a fairy tale, living happily ever after.

But reality seldom mirrored a fairy tale. Fairy tales are cherished precisely because they tell impossible stories.

Ermedeline—the princess locked away, waiting for the day she would be used and discarded, was now risking her life to protect the country of those who had used her. She was heading to the battlefield.

‘I will never forgive you! Even if I don’t become the Emperor of Trivian, I will never forgive you!’

Leopold clenched his fists tightly, imagining Henry’s smug face as he sat on the throne, listening to the reports read by his attendants. His grip was so tight that the veins on the back of his hand bulged.

“What news from the mother?” Leopold asked, barely restraining his boiling rage with a thin veneer of cold rationality.

“She seems to be hesitating,” Langen replied.

“Understandable. It’s not easy to completely disown one’s son.”

“But it appears she’s almost convinced. The woman who turned away from luxurious mansions and expensive jewels has recently fallen for a young lover.”

“A young lover?”

“Yes. It seems Innian has prepared a very enticing bait.”

“Ugh.”

Leopold felt sick just hearing that his mother was doing such things for his sake.

“She has proposed. If she renounces her allegiance to Trivian and pledges loyalty to the Ballius Empire, she’ll have the chance to become a marchioness.”

“What?”

“She will likely come over soon. From what I remember, she could never resist beautiful men and titles. Offering both at once will surely make her abandon a son who has already severed ties with her.”

“Fine. Once the letter arrives, we’ll proceed with the plan.”

“Yes.”

As Langen was about to leave Leopold’s reception room after receiving the orders, Leopold called him back.

“Wait, I need to write one more letter.”

“To whom?”

“To the King of Frianton. Inform him that if a single hair on Ermedeline is harmed, his country will be erased from the map.”

Leopold gave the order with a meaningful look, but Langen hesitated and did not pick up the pen.

“What are you waiting for?”

“It’s wartime. The letter is unlikely to reach him properly, and besides, both Ermond and the King of Frianton are not in their palace.”

“What?”

“They left the palace last week.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Well, it’s not unusual for a king to lead battles personally. How was I supposed to know you’d want to write to the King of Frianton? At the time, we didn’t know Her Majesty would be heading to the front lines, so I didn’t report it separately.”

“Argh!”

If they were already at the battlefield, sending a spy to deliver the letter secretly would be difficult. Approaching them unnoticed in the midst of battle was possible, but there was no guarantee the letter would remain safe in such chaos.

“Pray.”

“What?”

Leopold glared at Langen, who seemed to be talking nonsense.

“I said, let’s pray.”

“Since when did you have faith in anything?”

Ignoring Leopold’s reprimand, Langen knelt down on the floor.

“I still don’t have faith. But isn’t prayer about hoping for the best when humans can do nothing with their own strength? Is there anything else we can do right now?”

“Haa…”

Leopold didn’t like the answer, but he couldn’t deny the truth in Langen’s words. He had never prayed before in his life, but without protest, he knelt beside Langen.

Drip, drip, drip.

As soon as Leopold bowed his head, the tears he had been holding back started to pour out all at once.

‘Please, whoever you are, protect her! No, please protect her! Give that poor woman a chance to live happily!’

‘I’ll bear the consequences of her sins if necessary, but please, let Ermedeline live!’

‘I have never asked you for anything before! Not when I was dying of a mysterious fever in the middle of the ocean, not when I was bleeding out in a foreign prison! I never asked for anything. So just this once, please hear my prayer!’

Langen sighed silently as he watched Leopold press his forehead to the ground.

‘Please, save Ermedeline! She doesn’t have to be mine! I don’t care if she loves that damned man! Just save her, please!’

All of these plans would be meaningless without Ermedeline. That’s why Leopold was so worried and fearful of Felio’s presence. He was terrified that she might choose Felio over him, that her heart might truly turn cold towards him. But more than anything, he was terrified of losing Ermedeline to death forever.