Chapter 190: "You shall meet your end tonight."

It was the ancient, golden relic of the founding Emperor. The very thing that had been stolen from the Royal Treasury Weeks ago.

The knights at the corners of the room went into high alert, their hands white-knuckled on their hilts.

Why wouldn’t they? They knew very well that the scepter had been missing and, of course, knew that it had been stolen by a certain thief with black hair. Well, here was a man with black hair, holding up the same scepter that had been stolen.

"The Seventh Sun is getting dim, don’t you think?" Julian mused, holding the relic up so the light of the chandeliers danced off its forbidden surface. "To lose the very symbol of your right to rule..." his lips twisted in satisfied mockery. "...how careless."

High on the dais, Aurelian stood up. His face had twisted with cold fury, but beneath it, his golden eyes were wide with a burgeoning, sick realization.

This wasn’t the man he had toyed with. This wasn’t Julian.

"Julian," Aurelian’s voice was a low, lethal vibration. "Drop the scepter. You are playing a game that ends in your execution."

"Oh, Aurelian," the man laughed, tossing the heavy golden relic into the air and catching it as carelessly as a child’s toy as he dared to call the Emperor by his name. "The game ended the moment you let me in. While you were busy trying to break a scholar, you were helping

me

break free."

Aurelian’s brow furrowed, unable to make sense of this.

Then, Julian swept into a deep, mocking bow, his upper body bending forward with grace, despite the intent behind it.

He held out the Scepter to his side and placed his other hand over his chest as he bowed and said, "I give you my thanks, Your Majesty."

He straightened up and adjusted his coat.

"Now, shall we get to why I am here?" He asked, but noticed the knights were already on the move. "A pity, it seems I might not get to give all of my speech. So, best to get to the grand finale."

He tossed the Scepter into the air, and the crowd gasped, watching it spin.

"Get the scepter!" One knight yelled, and they all rushed for it.

If that scepter hit the ground after being tossed into the air so carelessly, it might break. And that would be a huge stain on Aurelian’s name.

And this was just what Julian wanted.

Just as the knights rushed to get the scepter, Julian’s silhouette suddenly blurred. A crackle of dark, unstable magic rippled through the air—a spell no scholar should have known.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished from the center of the floor and reappeared directly behind the throne.

Behind Aurelian.

Aurelian spun around, but he was a second too late. Julian was already there, a black-steel knife pressed inches from the Emperor’s throat.

"Aurelian," Julian hissed into the Emperor’s ear, his eyes surviving despicably behind the shattered mask. "You shall meet your end tonight."

Then someone screamed from the crowd, having noticed where Julian had appeared.

"He’s trying to assassinate the Emperor,"

A series of shock and gasps followed that scream as all turned to look towards the Emperor. Luckily, the scepter had already been caught, but the guards were even more on alert now.

They planned to charge and seize Julian before he could slit the Emperor’s throat.

"Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you," Julian mused, pressing the dagger even further and spilling a drop of blood from Aurelian’s neck. "Which do you think is faster? Your blade? Or my dagger?"

Aurelian looked with his side eyes at Julian.

Yes, he was sure of it. This was Julian Von Astrea, but then there were so many things that were different. His manner of speech, his motives, and the fact that he could use magic.

If the Julian whom he had spent a week trying to break could use magic, there was no way he would let him do whatever he wanted.

Or was this his breaking point?

Had he broken so much that he finally lost his mind?

That was likely, but there were still other matters to discuss. Like how he was the thief right under their nose.

The two characters were too distinct, so...

"You are not the tutor," Aurelian said, and Julian’s grin faltered for half a second.

"Gosh," he mused. "Why are you so smart? You’re ruining the fun."

Aurelian’s brows furrowed. So, this was indeed not Julian. Then, how was he using Julian’s body? Manipulation? Witchcraft?

He was definitely a mage, a sorcerer of sorts, so it wasn’t impossible.

"What are you thinking about now, Aurelian?"

"I’m trying to guess your motive," Aurelian said, but this got Julian upset.

"You’re trying to guess my motive when my blade is by your neck?" he pressed the dagger even further, and more blood spilled out, but Aurelian did not cower.

"I am the Emperor. In front of my subjects, I cannot possibly beg for my life, now can I?"

It was this haughty personality of his that made Julian even more vexed. He planned to finish him right away, but he just couldn’t do that now, could he?

The tension in the ballroom had reached a state of agonizing suspension. Every noble, from the highest of Dukes to the lowest baronet, stood paralyzed as they watched the tip of a black-steel blade bite into the throat of their Emperor.

And they could not move.

One wrong move and this madman would cut into the Emperor’s throat, and no healer could save him.

Aurelian did not flinch, even as the thin line of crimson traced a path down his high, starched collar. His golden eyes were not on the blade, but on the distorted reflection of the man behind him, visible in the polished gold of the throne’s armrest.

​"People of this great Empire!" Julian’s voice rang out, vibrating with a theatrical, manic energy. "I have a tale to tell. A story that begins with a certain ’hunt’ organized by the Imperial Family."