Dominance of Viled Heart
Chapter 13
"I'm the only one who can read the scrolls easily—at least for now," I said, forcing calm into my voice. "But once the other historians catch up, they'll realize I've been holding back. It'll take them years to fully understand the scrolls, and by then, I'll be long gone."
The prince's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths like the dying flame beside us. "So, you're deceiving them?"
His words stung, a sharp reminder of how precarious my position was. I’d spent too long treading carefully around men like him—men with power, men who could decide my fate with a single command. One wrong move, and I could end up in a cell. Or worse.
"I'm just trying to survive," I said, keeping my tone even. His gaze bore into me, scrutinizing, stripping away any illusion I might have clung to. "I can only stall them for so long, but it’s better than handing over all the words."
He studied me, the silence stretching between us, thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded. A reluctant acceptance. "Alright. I’ll help you. But if anything happens to my sister, you’ll regret it."
"Fair enough." I forced a wry smile, trying to lighten the tension.
He didn’t smile back. Instead, he squinted, still sizing me up. "How can you be so confident?"
I held his gaze, unwavering. "I have a plan. And I trust my plan."
The prince hesitated, doubt flickering across his face. I could see him wrestling with his own thoughts, his skepticism warring with the small, dangerous hope that maybe, just maybe—I knew what I was doing.
Finally, he spoke, cautious but curious. "Tell me your plan."
I couldn't help but grin to myself. This won’t be easy, but don’t underestimate me.
"I finished transcribing the scroll from your country last night," I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.
His eyes widened slightly. His jaw clenched, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. "You what?" His voice was tight, balancing between disbelief and anger.
I swallowed hard, refusing to let his reaction shake me. I needed him to trust me, but I couldn’t afford to look too eager. "I told you I could do it," I said simply, meeting his gaze.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a small, worn notebook. Flipping through the pages, I stopped at the passage I had spent the entire night decoding. "Listen to this," I said, my voice steady as I read aloud.
"Only those who 
can attain what you desire. Thus, all the power and wealth will be achieved without a broken mind."
A shiver ran down my spine. The meaning slipped just out of reach, like a puzzle with missing pieces. I’d been staring at these words for hours, trying to unlock their secret, but no matter how many times I read them, the answer refused to come. It was frustrating—like holding a key to a door I couldn't even see. I know I’ve seen this before, but where?
The prince’s eyes darkened as he tried to make sense of the cryptic passage.
"These are the exact words from the scroll," I continued, watching him carefully. "But this—I can’t decipher what it means."
The prince’s expression shifts from shock to deep thought. The silence between us thickens, like the weight of the mysterious phrase is daring us to solve it.
I press on, my voice firm. “If these characters are hard for me to understand, it’ll take others years to figure them out. You can lie during the interrogation tomorrow. I don’t know how the prince will do it, but he said he’ll make you talk personally.”
The prince sneers, defiance sparking in his eyes. “Ha! How arrogant.”
I lean in closer, lowering my voice. “I’ll tell him I failed to negotiate with you. When it’s his turn, tell him the scroll doesn’t belong to you—it belongs to the princess.”
His gaze sharpens. “Why should I do that?”
I exhale, keeping my tone steady. “Don’t worry. They won’t be able to find your sister for days. I’m telling you this so I can help you escape safely.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. The doubt in his eyes is obvious. Trusting a stranger in a situation like this? I wouldn’t blame him. But my plan hinges on his cooperation.
“If you don’t say those words,” I warn, “I can’t help you. The prince thinks ‘the heart’ in the scrolls is a literal heart. He’s been collecting and dissecting the hearts of those he thinks own the scrolls. If you die, it won’t be long before your sister is caught.”
His face hardens. “I won’t let my sister be dragged into this. It will only put her in more danger.”
Frustration bubbles up, but I bite it back. “I know, but that’s not the point! We’re just buying time to keep you safe. Do you understand my plan? If you die, who will protect your sister? She’s lucky I found her yesterday. Do you really think she can survive running and hiding in the woods?”
The words sink in. I see it in the way his jaw tightens, the way his fists clench at his sides.
“How can I trust your plan?” His voice is quieter now, but still uncertain. “There’s a possibility that my heart will be gone by then.”
I lean in, whispering, “I have these pills that can stop your heart for a few minutes but heal you faster than any normal elixir. After the prince beats you, I’ll give you one. It’ll look like you died from his interrogation. I’ll take care of your body—after that, how you escape is up to you.”
His eyes narrow, suspicion clear on his face. “How sure are you they won’t suspect my death?”
I lean back, giving him a knowing look. “I’ve never met anyone who survived the prince’s interrogation and lived more than a week.”
Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence. Did I push too hard? My heart pounds, but I keep my face unreadable. He needs to believe I’m in control. I can’t afford to show fear.
Come on! I spent almost all my money on that pill.
His eyes bore into mine, thoughts racing behind them. The seconds stretch unbearably before he finally speaks, barely above a whisper.
“What’s your name?”
I blink. “What?”
“I need to know your name,” he says, voice steady. “And swear an oath of trust between us.”
I hesitate. Names hold power. Giving someone your name is like handing them a thread—one they can pull on to unravel everything you’ve built. But trust is the only currency I have right now. And it’s not like he can track me down in my world.
“…I’m Tuk.”
His gaze sharpens. “Is that your real name?”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s real or not, right?”
“It matters to us knights who rely on trust.” His tone is firm.
I take a slow breath.
“My name is Sunniva. You can call me Sunni or Iva.” The words feel strange coming out, the first time I’ve spoken my real name in this world.
“I’m Richard Helios, second son and prince of Homonhon.” His posture straightens, and he speaks with solemn finality. “As a knight of the empire, I trust this fellow Sunniva and will help her decode the words in return for helping me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you done?”
Silence. Then, finally, he exhales, voice barely more than a whisper.
“Heart.”
I straighten.
He looks at me, something like realization flickering in his eyes. “The word means ‘heart’ in our language. The last character
means ‘heart,’ and means ‘learned.’ 
means ‘learned.’ Together, it translates to ‘learned the heart’—which can also mean ‘love.’”
For a moment, we both fall silent.
Then, Richard smirks. “Ha! That man can never attain my ancestor’s power because he doesn’t know how to love.”
His smirk is triumphant, but my mind is racing.
A sudden realization crashes over me like lightning.
The pieces of the puzzle are finally falling into place. Without a word, I snatch my notes and scribble down the fully translated phrase, my hand moving almost on its own as the meaning sinks in.
Richard’s interpretation makes sense in his context, but… not in the scroll.
If ‘heart’ meant the same as ‘love’ here, why change the character?
Something doesn’t add up.
A slow, wide smile spreads across my face as the truth of the ancient words unfolds before me.
📜
ʘⲠ𝖫𝖸 7#❍53 ᗵ#❍
Translate:
Only those who 'learn the heart' can get into the truth of what they desire. Thus, all power and wealth will be gained without a broken mind.
“No, I don’t think that’s right, but we can still use what you said,” I muttered, my mind racing. Ideas juggled in my head like a chaotic circus act.
“What?” The prince’s voice snapped me back to reality, like a cold bucket of water thrown in my face.
“It’s not love—it’s the heart,” I murmured, stepping closer. I placed my hand gently on his chest.
“⧨3Ⲡ1 4☥ ᗶ3.” The ancient words slipped from my tongue—a phrase I’d encountered in one of the scrolls. If the power truly existed, then perhaps this word was the key to unlocking it. But all that emerged was a faint glimmer of light, like a weary firefly struggling to glow.
This must be the power the prince senses, or maybe just a reluctant spark.
“What are you doing?” His tone held confusion and suspicion, like he couldn’t decide whether I was insane or had a strange hobby.
He’s probably not the one with the key. The realization hit me like a brick, but I fought the urge to groan in frustration.
“I was told your royal family has two sons and one daughter. Is that true?” I asked, feigning casual curiosity.
His face darkened, like someone had snuffed out the last light of his happiness. “My brother died protecting the border, along with my parents. So, it’s just my sister and me now.”
So, she’s the one with the heart problem. The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. I wasn’t even speaking to him, just voicing the thought aloud, but his silence was confirmation enough.
Silence means yes. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. “Why do you want to know?” His voice was wary now, his sharp gaze assessing me, trying to determine whether I was a dangerous ally or just another lunatic grasping at straws.
“If my theory is correct,” I said, urgency creeping into my voice, “then His Highness must never get ahold of your sister.” A wave of panic surged through me.
How did I almost miss this?
The prince stared at me, a mix of confusion and reluctant admiration flickering across his face. Even in my chaotic reasoning, I had managed to stumble onto something significant.
“That’s what I’m trying to prevent!” he snapped, his frustration cutting through the thick air between us.
Footsteps echoed closer. My heart leaped into my throat. No time. I lunged forward, grabbing his collar, yanking him close enough to feel his breath against my cheek. “Listen carefully,” I whispered, our precarious alliance teetering on a knife's edge.
“Richard, Prince of Homonhon—when you ‘die,’ I’ll place a bottle in your pocket. Spray it over yourself when you wake up. The scent will help you escape into the woods and lose His Highness’s people for at least a day. They’ll believe you died in interrogation. I’ll make sure all traces of you are gone.”
His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—suspicion, confusion, and the faintest glimmer of hope.
“I’ll be waiting for you at the playground—that’s what your sister left for you. Don’t make me regret this,” I whispered, voice barely masking the tremor of doubt curling in my gut. My fingers tightened around Richard’s collar, the fabric rough and unyielding under my grip. His pulse beat erratically beneath my thumb, a stark reminder of what I was about to risk—for both of us.
I forced my hand to steady. This was the only way. The prince of Marceau wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted, and Richard didn’t stand a chance against his fury. But even now, as the plan unfolded in my mind, I couldn’t shake the gnawing thought: What if I was wrong?
Richard’s eyes locked onto mine, searching for assurance I didn’t have the strength to give. His trust weighed heavily on me, a burden I hadn’t fully anticipated. What if the medicine didn’t work? What if stopping his heart wasn’t enough to fool them?
I leaned in closer, my voice barely above a breath. “We only get one shot at this,” I added, just as the guard appeared.
“Hey, visit’s over. They need you upstairs,” the guard barked.
“This is pointless,” I growled, shoving Richard away with feigned irritation, storming out to sell the act.
I’m almost there. Just a little more, and I might finally go back! My pulse quickened, pounding in my ears like a drum. A tremor ran through my hands, but I clenched my fists to steady them. There was no turning back now.
As I emerged from the dungeon, a familiar voice called out, “Tuk! You’re safe!” Sire Leon’s voice was thick with relief as he hurried toward me.
I was glad to see everyone alive, but the weariness etched into their faces spoke volumes about what they had endured. “Sire Leon, everyone... I’m glad you all made it,” I said, pushing Leon’s head away playfully as he leaned in for a hug. “But I can’t say we’re really safe just yet. We’ve got a problem with the scroll.”
The group fell silent, tension creeping into the air.
“W-what do you mean?” Marco asked, his voice trembling slightly. Worry flickered across their faces as they absorbed my words.
“See this?” I revealed a small scratch on my neck, a parting gift from yesterday’s encounter. “The prince gave me this.”
Their faces paled as the implications sank in.
“Should we heal our wounds before we go collecting new ones?” I said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood as I led them toward the clinic.
The war was over, but the scars it left behind would take time to heal—or so I thought. Strangely, my wounds and scratches healed within just a few days. It was so fast, I started to wonder—are their doctors even normal doctors, or magical healers? Or is it because of the ointment they used? Could their medicine be more advanced than ours?
I’m so stupid! Now that I think about it, all their products seem peculiar but oddly similar to things from my own world. So, does that mean the elixir from the black market could actually be real? Guilt gnawed at me for experimenting on the prince, but if it worked like the seller promised, that would be amazing. If not... well, Plan B it is. Hehe.
But seriously, what kind of era is this? If I’d known I’d end up here, I would’ve researched the isekai thing properly instead of just casually reading and watching stuff about it. Now I’m stuck, with no clue what I’m doing. I guess I have no choice but to go with the flow... even if that flow turns into a storm.
Marceau had emerged as the sole ruler of the land, and with that came the promise of sweeping changes. I’d taken too many risks, made too many reckless gambles. But how much longer can I keep this up? I tried to push the thought away, but it lingered, unsettling and insistent: Would I survive the changes that were coming, or would they swallow me whole?
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