Unbeknownst to Me, I am Secretly Dating the Emperor - Chapter 179

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 179
Ed answered my muttered words.
“Should I bring you water?”
“That’s all right.”
I declined with an embarrassed smile.
“My throat isn’t dry—I was thinking about what vector might be spreading the illness.”
Since I’d brought it up, I decided to ask Ed for his opinion as well.
“I’ve been thinking it through using process of elimination.”
I enumerated my reasons for suspecting water as the vector, counting off on my fingers one by one.
Ed listened carefully to my explanation, then nodded in agreement.
“That’s a plausible hypothesis.”
“I’ll need to verify it the moment we return.”
The Temple’s evidence for calling Ibeta a False Saint rested on this very illness.
If I could prove that this disease—one incurable by Holy Power, the same sickness that killed the former Crown Prince—was the Temple’s own handiwork, it would strike a devastating blow to their logic.
“Eat before it gets cold, Ed.”
I speared a piece of the Chicken Steak that had just arrived and ate with determined focus.
With so much to do once we returned to the Imperial Palace, our conversation naturally dwindled.
Yet even as I ate diligently, Ed never took his eyes off me.
As we left, we made no particular effort to avoid the journalists’ notice.
Though dozens of gazes bore into my cheeks once more, this second time I could smile far more naturally.
* * *
In the Inner Residence where the oldest residents of the Orphanage stayed, all water was drawn from an underground borehole and stored in a cistern for use.
Since the patients were evacuated immediately upon the first outbreak, everyone from the Orphanage staying in that Inner Residence was moved—if anyone had tampered with that cistern, traces would still remain.
Holding onto this hope, we returned to the Imperial Palace, only to find unwelcome news waiting.
It came in Kyle’s report, coinciding with the Noble Faction’s declaration of war: the False Saint had made another Prophecy.
“Death’s Hem shall brush the Northern Region, sweeping countless souls away, and Calamity shall descend upon the South, bringing famine.”
Ed twisted his lips into a bitter smile.
Prophecy never manifested so brazenly, and the sheer absurdity of it made him want to laugh even as anger rose.
“Next it’ll be the Eastern or Central Region, I suppose.”
It seemed only the Western Region would escape these supposed punishments.
I joined Ed in mocking the Temple and the Noble Faction both.
“But how exactly do the Temple and the Noble Faction intend to make that Prophecy reality?”
Yet my twisted smile didn’t linger long.
There would be casualties in whatever process they used to fulfill the Prophecy.
When I voiced my concern, Kyle narrowed his eyes in thought before answering.
“Death’s Hem is typically an expression for contagion, and the Calamity befalling the South would likely be something similar—perhaps a disease among crops.”
Since Holy Power was the most effective treatment for illness, many priests were as knowledgeable in such matters as any physician.
‘Deliberately spreading an epidemic is entirely feasible.’
In the past, foreign armies had even thrown corpses of plague victims into enemy encampments to sicken the opposing forces.
But medical technology across the Continent had advanced considerably.
Unless it was a new contagion with extreme transmissibility and lethality, announcing it as Prophecy—giving our side time to prepare—was already a failure.
Containing an epidemic’s spread was hardly difficult in its early stages.
One merely needed to deploy relief supplies and physicians in advance.
Ed seemed to be thinking along similar lines.
Orders came swiftly and without hesitation.
“Redeploy part of the forces headed to the Western Region’s borders to the Northern and Southern regions instead. Have the physicians and apothecaries stand ready as well.”
There was no sense of grave urgency.
Only careful vigilance for contingencies.
But simple problems always concealed their traps.
* * *
Our strategy of a public outing to forestall panic among the Empire’s people and bury the Noble Faction’s declaration proved effective.
Especially the illustration depicting me whispering to Ed’s ear and him smiling faintly—it caused a tremendous stir.
The illustrator’s skill was excellent, and even the crude printing of the tabloid newspapers rendered Ed’s beauty well.
Ed’s face had not been widely known to the public until then.
‘With his image as a war hero and a tyrant, many must have imagined Ed as rough and brutish looking.’
Among the Empire’s citizens encountering the Emperor’s face in newspaper illustrations for the first time, his youth and handsome features became major gossip.
The Noble Faction’s declaration of civil war, condemning the fallen Saint and the Emperor for personal misuse of divine will, grew somewhat overshadowed.
We pressed our advantage, appearing together in public whenever the topic threatened to fade.
We attended galas hosted by influential Emperor Faction families, or sometimes dated openly in crowded public places.
Of course, there was some selfish desire to spend time with Ed, but both of us recognized it as a strategic move.
Attending the social functions of the Emperor Faction families served to strengthen the faction’s cohesion.
The Emperor Faction nobles had always been loyal from the start.
The risk of defection was low, yet comforting internal divisions during crisis was a matter not to be overlooked.
Appearing in crowded places was meant to demonstrate an ordinary life and reassure the people.
And while doing so, my standing in social circles gradually expanded—a welcome side benefit.
The Temple hurried to increase the False Saint’s public activities, but could not keep pace.
The tide had already turned in Ed’s and my favor.
I was simply waiting for the right moment to crush the evasive High Priest once and for all.
But the Temple seemed to view our waiting as an opportunity.
They contrived to have the False Saint and me meet at a charity event.
* * *
Fortunately, the cistern in the Inner Residence still held half its water.
We were working only on the assumption that the vector was water.
And water’s applications in daily life were far too numerous to catalogue.
Yet in this situation, the fact that all the water the patients had drunk and washed with came from a single source was truly a stroke of fortune.
‘If my suspicion is correct, investigating this place should yield some answers.’
Initial examination revealed no anomalies, but through methodical experimentation, varying the conditions repeatedly, we finally uncovered the truth.
“It was a substance that only activated above a certain temperature.”
Most of those who stayed in this Inner Residence had fallen ill.
The infection rate was far higher than among patients from other locations.
This observation proved crucial to the investigation.
It was particularly helpful to learn that one person staying in the Inner Residence had a hobby of tea ceremony, and drinking tea while conversing each evening was part of their daily routine.
Once this was established, progress came far more easily.
Colorless and odorless.
A substance that activated only above a certain temperature.
Continuing our research with this information, we at last discovered how the Temple had created the illness.
‘Fairy Wing Grass—so that’s what it was called.’
I had missed a crucial hint hidden in the fairy tale book I’d found.
This plant, with semi-transparent, delicate leaves like a fairy’s wings, was a medicinal herb.
One steeped in legend for its miraculous property: the ability to extend human lifespan to its ultimate limit.
‘According to research, there are theories that it can forcibly reconstruct the body to create transcendents like Sword Masters or Grand Mages.’
Why such an herb of stupendous potential could be used to steal lives was, paradoxically, quite simple.
Almost no one—truly, virtually no one—possessed a body capable of withstanding the reconstruction process initiated by Fairy Wing Grass.
‘Ordinary people have a higher chance of becoming a Sword Master or Grand Mage through effort than surviving this.’
Most people died during the body’s reconstruction.
Moreover, since this herb’s effect was a kind of Buff, it seemed entirely untreatable by Holy Power.
‘Perhaps they regard it as a kind of Herxheimer Reaction.’
All the threads of the mystery were now woven together.
We had obtained a formidable weapon to wield against the Temple.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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