The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1292 - 197 - The Fall Of Milham Kingdom - Part 2 (7)

Julius's POV

I wandered through the town streets with no particular hurry, letting my steps follow the natural rhythm of the crowd. The place was lively in that quiet, everyday sort of way that made everything feel almost peaceful. Vendors shouted about fresh bread, a few kids ran past chasing each other, and merchants haggled loudly over prices like their lives depended on it. If someone looked closely, they might even call the scene comforting.

It was strange.

Because beneath all that normalcy, everything was slowly collapsing.

The people here didn't seem to notice it though. Or maybe they noticed but simply chose not to think about it. Most of them were laughing, chatting, or complaining about ordinary things like food prices or lazy workers. No one was looking over their shoulders. No one seemed worried about the future.

To them, the world was still stable.

To them, tomorrow would come just like yesterday.

"People rarely worry about something unless they are directly involved in the conflict," Moriarty said calmly beside me.

He walked with the relaxed posture of someone who belonged here. His clothes were simple, plain, the kind you could buy in any market stall. Nothing flashy. Nothing suspicious. Just ordinary fabric stitched into an ordinary outfit.

I wore something similar.

It was honestly impressive how effective the disguise was. Not a single person gave me a second look. I passed by soldiers, merchants, and even a few nobles without anyone realizing who I was.

The Prince walking among them.

"Most people prefer to pretend everything is fine," Moriarty continued, glancing casually at a nearby stall selling roasted meat. "They convince themselves that life is normal. That nothing bad is happening."

He gave a small shrug.

"I can't really blame them. Humans are like that. They hold on to routine because routine makes them feel safe. Even when the ground beneath their feet is slowly cracking apart."

A cart rolled past us, its wheels creaking loudly against the stone road.

Moriarty watched it go before speaking again.

"The truly dangerous part," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "is when people stay ignorant about things they should actually know. When the truth finally hits them, it doesn't come gently."

He tapped his finger lightly against his temple.

"It comes like an earthquake."

He gestured toward the crowd around us.

"And they will be the first ones crushed by it."

I looked around at the same people he was talking about. A group of workers laughing loudly. A mother holding her child's hand. A couple arguing over something petty.

"Well, these people are partly to blame for their ignorance," I said.

My voice was calm, but there was no sympathy in it.

"But the bigger problem lies with the people sitting on the throne. Their ignorance is what's dragging everyone toward disaster."

We passed a fountain where a few travelers were resting.

"The Queen hasn't done anything to solve the situation," I continued. "And every day she delays, the situation only gets worse."

I let out a quiet breath.

"How can someone like that call herself a ruler? My mother isn't fit to lead this kingdom."

The words came out colder than I expected.

But I didn't take them back.

"Honestly," I added, my lips tightening slightly, "none of the women in this family are."

Moriarty turned his head toward me. For a moment he simply stared, as if examining my face for something hidden.

Then he smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

"That's exactly right," he said.

His tone carried that familiar confidence, the kind that always made it sound like he had already solved the puzzle while everyone else was still searching for the pieces.

"You are the one who deserves to rule."

He looked ahead again, watching the crowd move through the streets.

"And once your sister is removed from the picture, your victory will be guaranteed."

His voice dropped slightly.

"After that, Prince Julius, the entire kingdom will be yours."

He paused briefly.

"And with it, everything you desire." 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

I clicked my tongue quietly.

"You really enjoy repeating that part, don't you?"

He chuckled softly.

"Well, motivation is important."

"You don't need to remind me," I replied. "That outcome is already decided. There's no one else capable of ruling besides me."

The idea felt obvious.

Natural, even.

"I see," Moriarty said.

He tilted his head slightly, like someone who had just remembered something interesting.

"So tell me. Have you thought about what I mentioned before?"

"You mean the part where you said it's my only chance of beating him?" I asked.

Even saying the words out loud irritated me.

It felt like swallowing something bitter.

The idea that I couldn't defeat him on my own was… unpleasant.

But the worst part was knowing Moriarty probably wasn't lying.

I wasn't the kind of person who trusted easily. Not anymore.

Charlotte made sure of that.

The memory of her betrayal still lingered somewhere in the back of my mind like a scar that never quite healed. She shattered everything back then.

And yet…

Somehow Moriarty had managed to slip past all of that.

It was strange.

It felt like he had slowly worked his way into my thoughts without me even noticing. Like some persistent infection that kept spreading no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

Honestly, it was irritating.

I hated the feeling.

But at the same time, I couldn't deny something important.

Without him, I wouldn't even have this opportunity.

Without him, revenge would still be nothing more than a fantasy.

"If that's really the only path forward," I said after a moment, "then I'm fine with it."

Moriarty nodded approvingly.

"Good."

His voice carried a hint of satisfaction.

"It's always refreshing to see someone fully commit to their decision."

***

Not long after that, we arrived at the base we were currently using.

The entrance itself was hidden beneath an abandoned structure on the outskirts of town. Nothing about the building stood out. If anything, it looked like the sort of place people avoided because it seemed boring.

Which made it perfect.

After passing through the concealed entrance and descending the stone steps, we eventually reached the underground chamber.

The space was enormous.

The air smelled faintly of dust and something older.

Torches burned along the walls, casting flickering light across the chamber floor.

And right at the center of it all was the thing that immediately caught my attention.

A massive magic circle.

It stretched across the stone floor like some ancient symbol carved into the earth itself. Layers of complex markings spiraled outward from the center, glowing faintly with a dull crimson light.

I stared at it for a moment.

"What exactly is this?"

"This," a voice answered calmly, "is where the ritual will take place."

Gaspard stood near the edge of the circle, holding an old book that looked like it had survived several centuries of bad weather and questionable storage decisions.

He flipped through a few pages before glancing up.

His eyes shifted toward Moriarty.

"Actually," he said, "there's something I'd like you to explain."

His tone was calm, but there was clear annoyance beneath it.

"Why does the Prince have to be the one performing this ritual?"

He closed the book with a soft thud.

"If we're discussing power and experience, then between the two of us, it would obviously be more beneficial if I were the one receiving it."

Moriarty didn't look offended.

If anything, he seemed amused.

"There is a very important reason for that," he replied.

He stepped forward slightly, clasping his hands behind his back.

"This ritual isn't something we can hand out based on preference. The candidate must meet certain conditions."

His gaze slowly shifted toward me.

"Specifically, they must be someone who has already been touched by the power of the Great Ones."

The torchlight flickered across the magic circle as he spoke.

"And Prince Julius here has already received a blessing similar to the power of the Great Red."

He gave a small nod.

"That alone makes him the most suitable candidate."

Gaspard frowned slightly.

Moriarty continued speaking before he could interrupt.

"More importantly, you lack the necessary compatibility."

His tone remained polite.

But the words themselves were ruthless.

"Yes, you managed to create a form of partial immortality," Moriarty said. "Which is impressive in its own way."

He paused briefly.

"But unfortunately, it is flawed."

Gaspard's expression darkened.

"You are no longer young enough to withstand the power of a Great One," Moriarty continued calmly. "If you attempted this ritual, your body would collapse almost immediately."

He raised one finger.

"First, your internal organs would begin failing."

Then another.

"Then the magical energy would tear your body apart from the inside."

His voice remained completely casual.

"And after that… well."

He gave a small shrug.

"You would die."

He looked at Gaspard with a polite smile.

"And from what I understand, it would be quite a painful death."

The chamber fell quiet for a moment.

Then Moriarty turned back toward me.

The torchlight reflected in his eyes.

"Which is why," he said slowly, "the Prince who carries the power of fire…"

His smile widened slightly.

"…is the perfect vessel to inherit the power of the Great Red."