I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The King’s study door closed, and all three mages exhaled in unison, their shoulders slumping as if a heavy iron beam had just been lifted off their backs.

Cassius pulled out a handkerchief, hastily wiping the cold bead of sweat trickling down his temple. The younger mage who had dared to question Zarius’s sanity looked ready to collapse onto the polished marble floor.

”You almost got us executed, you fool,” Cassius hissed under his breath, carefully slipping the wrapped red stone deep into his inner coat pocket. ”Suggesting the Northern Duke is paranoid in front of the King? Have you lost your mind?”

”I was only trying to offer an alternative explanation, Master Cassius,” the younger man whispered back, his voice still shaking. ”The stone is clean. We checked it ourself! If there’s nothing wrong with the magic, what else could it be?”

”Keep your voice down,” the second mage warned, shooting a nervous glance toward the royal guards stationed at the end of the corridor. ”We test the stone later like His Majesty ordered, and we keep our mouths shut until we have something certain to report.”

They turned the corner into the wide, sunlit gallery of the inner palace, their heavy robes rustling against the stone floor. They had only taken a dozen paces when a soft, light footsteps echoed ahead of them.

Yerel was walking slowly down the hallway, accompanied by Karson, who stayed two paces behind him like a silent shadow. Yerel was dressed in a finely tailored dark navy coat, his hands casually folded behind his waist, his face carrying that familiar, polite composure that made him look completely detached from the quiet panic floating around the court.

Seeing the three mages march out from the King’s wing with pale faces, Yerel slowed his pace, his sharp eyes catching the subtle tension in their shoulders.

”Good afternoon, archmages,” Yerel called out, his voice smooth and welcoming as he paused near a grand stained-glass window.

The three mages instantly stopped, bowing their heads respectfully. ”Your Highness.”

Yerel offered a small, pleasant smile, his eyes darting briefly toward the corridor leading to the King’s study. ”Did you just come from a meeting with His Majesty?”

Cassius cleared his throat, pulling his posture back together. ”Ah, yes, Your Highness. The King summoned us for a brief consultation regarding tower matters.”

Yerel tilted his head slightly, his tone remaining curious and light. ”Is that so? I hope nothing serious has occurred. His Majesty has been under a great deal of strain lately, especially with the recent court investigations.”

The mages exchanged quick, hesitant looks. They knew better than to spread royal inquiries around, but Yerel wasn’t just any young noble. He was the Crown Prince.

”There is no pressure to share official business, of course,” Yerel added smoothly, offering a small wave of his hand before Cassius could stumble over an excuse. ”I merely asked out of concern for the King’s health. Please, do not let me hold you.”

”No, no, Your Highness, it is nothing confidential that requires silence,” Cassius said quickly, eager to show respect to a high-ranking noble. ”His Majesty simply requested that we conduct a thorough technical review on the hearth stones.”

Yerel’s brows flicked upward, a tiny flicker of interest crossing his eyes. ”The hearth stones? The ones we regularly send to the north?”

”Precisely,” Cassius explained, lowering his voice slightly as he stepped closer. ”Duke Valtrane sent a report claiming that a batch of the stones was causing unexpected beast agitations during subjugation. His Majesty wants us to run tests to verify if there is any magical defect or foreign interference in the core formula.”

”Beast agitations,” Yerel repeated, his voice completely calm, as if he were merely digesting a minor inventory detail. ”I see. So His Grace believes the stones themselves attracted the monsters?”

”That seems to be the Duke’s report, Your Highness,” Cassius replied with a small shake of his head. ”Though when we examined the stones ourselves, we found nothing amiss. Nevertheless, we are heading to the outer perimeter now to test the stone under live conditions.”

Yerel nodded slowly, his expression softening into a sympathetic look. ”A tricky situation indeed. It must be stressful to carry such heavy expectations from both the Crown and the Northern Guard. I wish you the best of luck with your investigations, Archmage Cassius.”

”Thank you, Your Highness,” Cassius said, bowing deeply once more. ”We shall take our leave.”

”Safe travels,” Yerel murmured.

He stood by the window, watching in complete silence as the three dark-robed mages scurried down the wide hallway toward the grand staircase.

Once the heavy echo of their footsteps completely faded from the corridor, Yerel turned his head slightly, his gaze shifting to Karson, who stood motionless behind his right shoulder.

The hallway was entirely empty now. The sunlight stretched across the floor, leaving long, diamond-shaped patterns beneath the stained-glass windows.

Yerel slowly brought his hands back in front of him, adjusting the golden cuffs of his coat.

”Did you hear all of that, Karson?” Yerel asked softly. The warmth that had filled his voice when speaking to the mages was gone now, leaving his tone quiet and cold.

”I heard every word, Your Highness,” Karson answered instantly, his tone low and entirely devoid of emotion.

Yerel looked out through the stained-glass window, his eyes fixed on the distant outer walls of the imperial estate. There was nothing in his expression, nor any sign of annoyance or surprise. He looked as calm as ever, wearing the same composed expression he might have had while reviewing the day’s agricultural reports or signing routine tax documents.

”Tell me, Karson,” Yerel said, turning his head slightly to look his guard dead in the eye. ”Should I be nervous?”

Karson didn’t hesitate for a single beat. He kept his head straight, his posture rigid, his eyes locked forward with absolute, unshakeable certainty.

”No, Your Highness,” Karson replied smoothly. ”You have no reason to be afraid.”

A slow, barely perceptible smile touched the very corners of Yerel’s lips.

”Good,” Yerel whispered.

He turned on his heel and continued walking down the quiet corridor, his boots making quiet, rhythmic clicks against the floor, leaving Karson to follow silently a few steps behind.