The Empress’s Decree and a Potion’s Promise

Luca hesitated for mere seconds.

Those fleeting seconds of indecision were the last vestiges of his conscience.

“The kingdom is currently plagued by severe internal divisions, its power so fragmented that constant infighting has become inevitable. Therefore, my proposal unfolds in several key steps…”

He meticulously outlined the strategies to dismantle the kingdom: military advances dictated by geography, insidious tactics for internal fragmentation, and a comprehensive propaganda campaign designed to garner external support.

“Such is my proposed method.”

Luca bowed his head, kneeling on one knee, his gaze fixed solely on the Empress’s black silk heels.

“Hmm, intriguing, truly intriguing. Can you paint, man?” A voice drifted down from above.

“Naturally,” Luca replied.

“Then, paint me a portrait. My scouts have only ever glimpsed Queen Ophelia cloaked behind a veil. I’ve long harbored a curiosity about her true visage; surely, you’ve seen her? Render her for me to behold.”

The Empress clapped her hands, and a blank sheet of paper was swiftly presented. Unable to discern the Empress’s thoughts, Luca employed his magic to replicate Ophelia’s likeness onto the page.

The Empress took up the paper, scrutinizing it intently, and for a prolonged moment, remained silent.

Luca remained on one knee, his leg growing numb beneath him. He dared not raise his gaze, having heard whispers of the Empress’s capricious temperament.

He heard the Empress draw a deep breath, then slowly release it.

“Ha, as I suspected, a beauty capable of toppling nations. Truly… it’s nigh impossible not to be captivated.”

“Is Your Majesty prepared to adopt my strategy to prepare for war?” Luca inquired.

‘Should my strategy be embraced, it would signify my acquisition of status, and with status, I could continually advance…’

The chilling edge of a blade pressed against his throat.

“You are Luca, are you not? You are amusing, but heed my words regarding what comes next.”

“First, unless I inquire, you shall not speak.”

“Second, I have always been embroiled in war; the conflict began long ago.”

Upon hearing these words, Luca abruptly raised his head. He saw the white-haired Empress gazing into the abyssal depths of the sea, her eyes not resting upon him. Her expression seemed a blend of intoxication and profound yearning as she looked towards the distant kingdom.

“I arrive, I behold, I shall conquer.”

****

“Achoo!” Ophelia sneezed.

‘Who could possibly be thinking of me?’

‘Haha, just a jest. As if anyone would genuinely think of me.’

“Oh, Vina,” Ophelia inquired, “when you arrived just now, did you happen to notice those people by the stream?”

‘Vina possesses talent, and in the novel, she is portrayed as exceptionally kind. Surely, she will be able to empathize deeply with me, to truly understand my plight, won’t she?’

‘She is, after all, the bona fide female lead!’

“I did see them. Is there an issue?” Vina replied.

‘Indeed, Vina saw them too!’

“I believe we must assist them, don’t you agree, Vina? These people can barely afford to eat, lack adequate clothing for warmth, and their homes are riddled with leaks and drafts. We simply must devise policies to aid them.”

Ophelia earnestly articulated her convictions.

For an extended moment, Vina offered no reaction. Ophelia turned, only to discover Vina silently observing her.

Sunlight streamed into the corridor, yet Vina stood cloaked in shadow, her green pupils emitting a faint, eerie glow, much like a wolf observing its prey from the darkness.

That unsettling gaze sent a shiver down Ophelia’s spine. She blinked, only to find Vina’s expression utterly placid, as if nothing had transpired.

‘It must have been a mere illusion, mustn’t it…? How could Vina possibly harbor such a gaze…?’

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Vina affirmed, “we absolutely must aid them. Let us implement reforms and national policies to bring them succor.”

Vina answered with an air of docile compliance.

‘Yes, yes, it was undoubtedly my own misperception. I knew the heroine would never turn a blind eye to the suffering of others!’

“Your Majesty, allow me to manage this affair. There is no need for you to overexert yourself. After all, I am destined to become king in the future; consider this an opportunity for me to hone my skills, shall we?”

Ophelia nodded in agreement.

‘Reforms would invariably necessitate delicate maneuvering among various factions. Ultimately, this isn’t a task well-suited for me; after all, asking someone with social anxiety to navigate such intricate negotiations is exceedingly challenging! Thus, if Vina is willing to take the reins, it would undeniably be for the best.’

“Very well, I shall entrust it to you then! Oh, Vina, a thought just occurred to me: what precisely did you mean earlier when you suggested Marta don your King’s Sword? And why did all those nobles depart so abruptly after you uttered those words?”

Vina skipped playfully ahead of Ophelia.

She bent low, her face bathed in sunlight as she smiled at Ophelia.

“Indeed, what *did* it mean?”

She skipped away, leaving Ophelia utterly bewildered in her wake.

****

“Oh, Almighty God of the Starry Sky and Wisdom,”

“I offer my prayers unto you, I beseech you, for your loyal servant awaits your divine bestowal.”

“Please grant me boundless glory.”

Hizeta pressed her hands together, and before her, the teleportation array shimmered with a faint, ethereal purple glow. Three small bottles of pink potion materialized in the center of the array, accompanied by a rolled parchment.

Hizeta picked up one of the potions, examining it closely.

The pink liquid within gurgled and bubbled, a somewhat nauseating sight, as though its contents were not merely fluid but some grotesque creature twisting and coiling within.

‘Is this, then, the potion from Mr. Fanatic?’

Hizeta retrieved the nearby parchment, which detailed the potion’s instructions for use.

‘What atrocious handwriting! Could this truly be the script of Mr. Fanatic? How utterly dreadful!’

“This potion is named ‘Clear Dream’s Intoxication.’”

‘Clear Dream’s Intoxication? What an utterly incongruous name for such a potion.’

“For each application, one to two drops suffice, to be taken orally. After ingesting one or two drops, the subject will enter a semi-hypnotic state. At this juncture, subtle suggestions, conveyed through gentle, non-aggressive language, should be employed to gradually alter their perceptions.”

“For instance, if your aim is for someone to repay a debt, refrain from immediately demanding, ‘Return my money.’ Instead, once the subject has consumed the potion, reiterate phrases like, ‘It is only natural to repay what is owed,’ thereby reinforcing this perception within them.”

“Furthermore: This potion is an extension of hypnotic magic. Should the subject possess a strong defense against hypnotic arts, this potion will prove ineffectual!”

Hizeta concluded reading the parchment.

She cast her gaze once more upon the small vial in her hand, the pink liquid still gurgling and bubbling within, as though imbued with a strange, unnatural life.

‘Hizeta hesitated, a tremor of doubt running through her. The potion appeared utterly bizarre from every angle; could she truly bring herself to make the person she cherished most consume such a peculiar concoction?’

‘Perhaps I should test its effects first…’

Stepping out of the room, she brewed a cup of tea. As she uncorked one of the small vials, a peculiar aroma wafted forth, assailing her senses.

She carefully dispensed two drops of the viscous liquid into the tea, stirred it, and observed that the beverage showed no discernible change.

Bearing the cup of tea, she proceeded to Ophelia’s chambers.

Ophelia was immersed in a book. Catching sight of Hizeta, she raised an inquisitive gaze. Before Ophelia could utter a word, Hizeta, overcome by nervousness, spoke first.

“Your Majesty! I extend my deepest gratitude for your kindness these past days! I have personally brewed this cup of tea just for you!”

Ophelia, harboring no suspicion, drank the tea.

A moment later, Ophelia’s eyes gradually dimmed, losing their vibrant luster. Hizeta, her heart pounding, nervously swallowed a gulp.