It had been a month since the rebellion erupted.
Even now, its aftermath lingered.
Smoke still clung to parts of the capital—thin and stubborn, refusing to fade. Burned buildings stood like scars against the skyline, and soldiers patrolled every street corner, their presence a constant reminder of how close the empire had come to collapse.
And yet—despite it all—the empire was stabilizing.
All thanks to the new Emperor's influence.
Far from the unrest, within the silent confines of the palace, Ray lay unmoved.
His gaze rested on the device in his hand.
A small construct of metal, intricately designed, with a monster core embedded at its center and mana stones lining its edges. A faint light pulsed within it—steady, controlled.
It was an experimental creation. A gift from the former Emperor.
And it was... remarkable.
The device could capture voices and store them within the core, replaying them with startling clarity. With a single touch, it could inscribe an image—precise, almost lifelike. It could even preserve written thoughts, as if ink and paper were no longer necessary.
Ray turned it slightly, watching the glow shift beneath its surface.
Unlike most things in his life, using this wasn't tiring. Nor was it annoying.
"Your Highness... are you even listening to me?"
Orven's voice cut through the silence.
He stood nearby, hands planted firmly on his waist, his expression tight with frustration—like an overworked caretaker at the end of his patience.
Ray didn't respond.
"Please," Orven continued, his voice softening slightly, "I'm begging you... go outside. Just once."
No answer.
Ray simply pulled the blanket higher around himself, sinking further into the bed as if the world beyond it did not exist.
Orven exhaled sharply.
"Your Highness, you haven't left this room in a month. Not once." His tone rose again, edged with worry. "Staying trapped in this four-walled room—with no windows, no air—is only going to make your condition worse."
"Ah, seriously, shut up, Orven."
Ray's voice was low, laced with irritation.
"You're going to make my ears bleed." He shifted slightly, barely sparing Orven a glance. "If anything, staying with you is what's making me sicker."
Orven let out a long, tired sigh.
Convincing this Prince to leave his room had always been difficult.
Now, it felt nearly impossible.
"Leave. I want to sleep now," Ray said softly.
But Orven didn't move.
"Your Highness, I'm not moving a single inch until you leave this room."
He crossed his arms, standing exactly as he declared. The seriousness on his face made it clear—he wasn't joking.
Ray let out a quiet sigh.
"Do you want to get fired?" he asked.
"Fire me if you must," Orven replied firmly, "but I'm not moving until you do."
Ray turned away.
If he wants to stand for hours, then he can—for all I care.
Pulling the blanket over his head, he closed his eyes.
Orven kept his word.
He didn't speak. Didn't move.
He simply stood there, beside the bed.
And just like that—
Two hours passed.
Ray stirred, his eyes slowly opening.
And the first thing he saw…
…was Orven.
Still standing.
Ray stared at him for a long moment, his voice rough with sleep.
"Are you for real?"
Orven didn't respond. He simply looked at Ray with an expression that made the answer obvious.
Ray let out a deep sigh. He had just woken up, and he was already tired.
In the end, he gave in.
"…Fine. Let's go."
Orven's face lit up instantly.
"Yes, Your Highness!" he said, almost too cheerfully. "Please wait a moment. I'll call someone to get you ready."
Ray dragged his feet lazily along the garden path.
The air outside felt different—cooler, lighter—but he didn't care enough to enjoy it.
He had planned to sit somewhere quiet and wait until Orven was satisfied, but unfortunately, Orven had other ideas.
Walk, he said.
Just a little, he said.
"Seriously… what a troublesome person."
Still, Ray followed along, his steps slow and unmotivated.
At some point, he stopped paying attention.
Lost in his thoughts, he wandered further than he realized. The sound of the fountain—once constant—had long since faded.
It was only when silence settled around him that Ray paused.
"…Which way did I come from again?"
He glanced around, unimpressed.
Everything looked the same.
With a quiet sigh, he stepped forward, deciding to just keep walking until he found someone.
That was when his foot brushed against something faintly etched into the ground.
A circle.
Thin lines. Old. Almost invisible.
For a brief moment—
It glowed.
Ray frowned.
"…What—"
The light flared.
The air twisted.
And in the next instant—
He was gone.
Ray reappeared with a faint distortion of air beneath his feet.
He blinked once.
Then slowly looked around.
This was… not the palace.
"…I knew it," he muttered, completely unamused.
"This is exactly why I don't go outside."