This item was the key to unraveling the circumstances of her mother's death—a clue Asella still hadn't managed to trace. Who truly owned this button? What did the pattern signify? What had it meant in that dream...?
Asella's lips parted, and she spoke the word barely above a whisper.
"Karma."
A secret organization that ruled from the shadows.
If the Emperor governed the Garmanian Empire in daylight, then the ruler of Karma reigned as the Prince of Night's Darkness—far more powerful than anyone could possibly imagine. No one knew the answers to the most crucial questions: Who was Karma's true leader? Who were its members? How many existed?
Countless rumors circulated throughout society, but none contained truth. Perhaps your friend or neighbor—chatting cheerfully with you over tea—was one of them. The people of the Empire feared Karma, as it is human nature to dread the unknown.
_What if Calix Benvito is the true leader of this mysterious organization?_
He fit the role flawlessly. What if he had dispatched Karma's assassins after her mother?
Adele Charts must have known everything about them. Perhaps that was why she had repeated this man's name so insistently with her dying breath—trying desperately to warn her daughters that they should fear Calix Benvito above all others.
A slender hand clutched the small object that had witnessed those terrible events. _Could this truly be merely delusion, born of my own terrors?_
But this dream—it had been so vivid.
Asella shuddered, still feeling the phantom impression of Calix Benvito's powerful embrace. She felt him with every cell of her body. _Did such things occur in ordinary dreams?_
No. It couldn't have been just a dream.
Someone as talentless as herself could never possess the power of foresight. Asella, startled by her own thoughts, shook her head in disbelief.
_No. It's impossible. It can't be._
Mariel's awakening had already begun. And in the Charts family, there had only ever been one heir to the gift per generation. Besides, precognition was an extraordinarily rare ability, even among her ancestors. How could such nonsense have entered her head?
And yet...
This strange, inexplicable sensation... _Perhaps... it's worth investigating?_
_I need to reach the library. I must get there immediately, as soon as dawn breaks._
_What if...?_
---
## — The Imperial Palace —
Around the same time, Philip found himself in audience with the Emperor.
He laid before His Majesty several peculiar objects: pieces of women's clothing—quite worn from use—a goose feather quill, and an embroidery frame.
"Did I understand correctly? Is this precisely what Your Majesty ordered me to bring?"
"Absolutely correct. And the more frequently she used these items, the better."
Moreover, the Emperor had commanded Philip to deliver everything in the dead of night, ensuring no one would witness the exchange. The entire affair seemed suspicious and deeply strange, but one did not question the Emperor's orders.
"Your Majesty..."
Fernando examined all the items with evident satisfaction, and Philip's anxious expression brightened with the realization that he had managed to please the Emperor himself.
"But why do you require these particular things?"
Fernando, however, had no intention of answering. Instead, he made a slight dismissive gesture with his hand—which essentially meant, *Leave. Now.*
"You've exerted yourself admirably. That will suffice."
"But, Your Majesty—what of my request?"
Duncan, who stood beside the Emperor, frowned with menacing displeasure.
Yet Philip continued pressing.
"You must honor your promise."
"A promise?"
A look of cold displeasure crossed Fernando's features. However, Philip—absorbed in contemplating how best to present his petition—failed to notice the glacial shift in the Emperor's eyes.
"What promise?" Fernando regarded him with apparent bewilderment.
"Regarding Anthony. The Archduke promised he would speak favorably of me to Your Majesty. And just recently, he informed me that a grand surprise awaits—concerning the marquis title for my son."
"Oh, *that*!"
Fernando erupted into terrible, hollow laughter that echoed through the chamber.
Philip disliked the Emperor's suspicious reaction intensely, but he had no choice except to join the laughter obsequiously.
Suddenly, the shudder-inducing mirth ceased, and a frigid silence descended over the office.
Philip swallowed against a dry throat. He felt profoundly uneasy—as though someone were aiming a loaded pistol at the back of his skull.
"Exciting news awaits you soon. So go and wait."
"Th-thank you, Your Majesty!"
"Yes, yes..."
Philip had actually hoped to receive an exact date today. But the Emperor's arrogant, intimidating gaze was so overwhelming he didn't dare open his mouth again.
"Allow me to personally escort you to your carriage."
When Duncan insistently opened the door and gestured for his exit, Philip possessed no alternative. He was compelled to depart the palace and board the carriage bearing the Charts family crest.
---
Fernando, left entirely alone, appraised the items scattered across his desk.
They were Asella's belongings—things she had used before her marriage.
These were the same garments he had seen before. A very long time ago, admittedly. Though barely perceptible, traces of the spell he had cast in the distant past remained visible to his trained eye.
A satisfied smile crept across Fernando's face.
"This will do perfectly."
The man snapped his fingers.
Hundreds of translucent lines materialized around him like shimmering ribbons. Each bore the name of a person bound by the shackles of black magic—souls he had ensnared throughout his reign.
Fernando peered closely at these lines, finally clicking his tongue in mock sympathy and spreading his hands.
"Well, forgive me for disturbing you again."
Black energy snaked from his palms and began burrowing through the streaming network of magical bonds.
"It's pointless to hide, you know. There's no escape. I'll find you regardless. It's merely a matter of time," Fernando muttered quietly, his voice carrying an almost conversational tone.
"You understand you don't stand a chance. Don't worry—I won't kill you. At least not today." Fernando's promise emerged with good-natured pleasantry. However, the eyes scanning the lines were as sharp and merciless as a freshly honed blade.
Finally, he released a contented sigh, sensing the familiar vibration beneath his fingers.
"Well, there we are. Hide-and-seek is finished."
Unlike the other robust lines, this particular thread appeared weak—ready to snap at the slightest provocation. It would fade to transparency, sometimes vanishing entirely, then reappearing moments later. The thin line trembled pitifully, still attempting helplessly to slip from his grasp as Fernando worked to secure it.
_Yes, it's been quite some time since we last connected._
_I believe she's still experiencing nightmares, but that's insufficient. We'll remedy that immediately._
A black torrent of energy erupted from Fernando's body and voraciously enveloped the objects lying before him. The clothing and other items instantly burst into flames, transforming into billowing smoke and fine black ash.
However, the line he gripped with tenacious fingers actually *thickened* and assumed a more defined shape.
"There we are. Now I believe everything will proceed as it should."
Fernando's lips curved into a modest smile of satisfaction.
It had been far easier to destroy a girl already shaken by the devastating loss of her beloved mother than to crush a tiny, newly emerged sprout. He had encouraged Philip to insult and mercilessly trample her—planting suggestions, feeding the man's natural cruelty.
It seemed that over time, this pathetic impostor had acquired a genuine taste for abuse, becoming progressively more enthusiastic in his torment.
It was impossible for someone already susceptible to black magic to develop supernatural abilities—the curse blocked all access to the victim's innate essence.
Having confirmed that Asella could no longer manifest her powers, he had ceased paying attention to her. There had been no purpose in wasting energy on a completely neutralized threat.
The younger sister had become his concern.
"Your Majesty, Asella has reached marriageable age. May I sell her?"
"Do as you please."
He had been somewhat surprised when Calix Benvito had suddenly emerged as the buyer—but initially, he'd even found it amusing. Regardless, as a woman, she posed no threat. Though Adele had attempted to thwart him with her white magic, the mental suggestions he'd planted in the girl's mind had still taken root.
His spies infiltrating the Charts mansion had confirmed the spell's efficacy: *She's in terrible condition—Philip beat her severely for refusing the marriage. The servants report she begged her guardian not to force her to wed the Archduke. She couldn't even meet his eyes at the ceremony, Your Majesty.*
"Yes, indeed. You truly are an extraordinarily unlucky girl."
Fernando tugged the thin magical line with his finger, and it vibrated with a mournful sound. The tremor he felt through his fingertips stimulated complex emotions—sensations almost akin to lust. The feeling of absolute power, when he toyed with someone's fate like a cat with a mouse, always granted him indescribable pleasure.
As long as this binding existed, Adele's eldest daughter would never escape the influence of his black magic. A future as a pitiful puppet awaited her—haunted by nightmares, hallucinations, and delusions.
_If you wish to blame someone, blame your adoptive father. You would have fared better married to an ordinary man._
_But what can be done? This is your destiny._
Calix Benvito had crossed a boundary that should never have been violated. And he would pay for that transgression. Since Fernando couldn't retaliate openly against the Grand Duke, he intended to extract entertainment through subterfuge—venting his fury in secret.
_What if he actually loves her?_
The thought sent a thrill of malicious delight through him. _What a magnificent bonus—if I could simply torment that arrogant brat in this manner._
"Fear him even more. Live forever in the despair of all-consuming terror."
Black smoke began seeping from Fernando's hands once more, coiling like serpents.
"Remain in eternal anxiety and doubt until your death."
Poisonous, malice-saturated fumes penetrated the magical line. It darkened briefly to pure black, then returned to its original translucent state. This transformation signaled the spell had taken proper effect.
In the face of witchcraft, a victim's original character and abilities became practically worthless. Even naturally wise individuals began making utterly foolish decisions. Those blessed with strong wills crumbled into weakness and uselessness. Everything depended on black magic's capacity to identify a vulnerable spot in the victim's heart and burrow deep.
The magic fed parasitically on the unfortunate person's anxieties, instilling irrational fears and paralyzing rational thought.
People gradually lost their ability to assess reality accurately. They descended slowly into madness—essentially doomed from the moment of affliction. Some committed suicide. Others dragged out miserable existences, resembling broken dolls more than human beings.
_What a spectacle that will be!_
The mere thought of manipulating Calix Benvito's emotions—watching the proud Grand Duke suffer—brought Fernando indescribable joy, sending a sweet shiver cascading through his entire body.
_It would be ideal to eliminate him before he produces an heir._
The Grand Duke currently possessed no surviving blood relatives. This realization pleased the Emperor immensely.
_If I could dispose of him soon, the Benvito family would be utterly eradicated._
Benvito—a constant thorn embedded in the side of imperial power. One never knew what to expect from that bloodline.
_I should have grown wary the moment he married that useless Charts girl. He decided to play games with me._
Fernando's hand tightened mercilessly around the magical binding.
_So Benvito's time has finally arrived, hasn't it?_
Now he resembled a predator thoroughly amused by toying with helpless prey. The thin line flickered and twitched constantly beneath his cruel grip.
"I look forward to it immensely."
The Emperor's thin lips twisted into a smile of pure, vindictive cruelty.