Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Audience with the Emperor
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Knock knock.
"Kaiser, are you awake?"
'Is it morning already?'
A morning where he lay in bed with a joyful heart, something he hadn't done in ages.
He opened his eyes at the sound of Isis's voice from outside.
'Artemis...'
As he came to his senses, the image of Artemis came to mind.
The nightmare from last night was still vividly etched in his memory.
A knight in a white mask had dragged Artemis away.
Because it was a dream, he could only watch helplessly.
His fists had clenched in rage so tightly that even now, awake, they still throbbed.
'No way something happened to her.'
He tried to shake off the anxiety rising in his heart.
He trusted Derbal, who was guarding her, and his own knights.
"Come in."
He slipped out of bed and tidied his hair.
His black hair, which he hadn't cut once since arriving on this continent.
It now reached past his shoulders.
"I'm coming in."
Creak.
With those words, Isis opened the door and entered.
'Whoa!'
Had she prepared all this already?
Even the extraordinary dress she usually wore as a princess had been dazzling, but the sight of Isis entering through the door was breathtaking.
A lavish ceremonial dress with a cool blue base, artistically embroidered with silver and purple threads, perfectly suiting her golden hair and milky skin.
'Those jewels hanging there must be real too, right?'
Dozens of small, clear gems were embedded along the hem, framed by golden embroidery.
It was a dress adorned with jewels that even the richest in Korea couldn't wear casually.
'Beautiful.'
Pure admiration escaped him naturally.
Isis, known as the empire's greatest beauty.
Young as she was, the taut elasticity of her skin was almost unbelievable, like that of a child.
Such a woman lowered her head shyly under his gaze.
A faint pink flush colored her nape.
Any lingering sleepiness vanished in that instant.
"Come in."
Step step.
'Huh?'
No sooner had Isis spoken than over ten maids entered.
'Are those all clothes?'
Each maid carried men's ceremonial attire in different colors and designs.
"I didn't know your taste, so I prepared these."
Isis spoke casually, as if it were nothing.
"..."
"If none appeal to you, you can choose from the next ones."
Seeing his silence, Isis mentioned the next clothes.
'There are more outside!'
The ten weren't all.
He sensed the presence of maids lined up outside—at least twenty or more.
'All these are for me!'
Emotion surged over him like waves.
Even back in Korea, getting one or two new outfits a year was lucky.
And only during breaks when he couldn't wear uniforms, for special events(?).
Yet Isis had prepared dozens for him.
He wanted to smother her cheeks with his hot gratitude.
"Please choose."
"Yes?"
"If Princess Isis picks an outfit that suits me, I'll wear that one."
"Yes...."
At his words, Isis's face flushed the color of a ripe apple.
How long had she wanted to do this?
One of his simple dreams had been for a girlfriend to pick out clothes for him like this.
"How about this one?"
As if she'd been waiting, Isis pointed to a black ceremonial outfit held by one of the maids.
'The sheen is killer...'
A black velvet-like garment with a subtle luster.
He didn't know the fabric, but it looked cool enough for summer.
'M-mithril buttons? Oh man!!!'
He wasn't short on money, and having more was never bad, so he didn't refuse.
'Impeccable taste.'
A white blouse-like shirt paired with a tuxedo-style jacket.
It matched perfectly with the slim black pants.
"And tie your hair with this. You'll look even more handsome."
She shyly offered a hair tie.
Its graceful golden hue, like it was made of golden thread, suited him perfectly.
'Turning me into a pretty boy?'
He pictured himself.
His lean, toned figure without an ounce of fat would suit it perfectly.
Like an Italian man with a sleazy spaghetti smile and flowing hair.
"I'll cherish the princess's consideration deeply."
He flashed a bright smile.
Bowing his head slightly in thanks, he saw Isis beaming happily.
"The nobles' greetings begin at 3 PM. When the time comes, please ride in the carriage with me."
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness."
Despite the whispers it might cause, Isis had steadfastly let him stay in her palace.
Once the noblewomen with nothing better to do learned he was there, their tongues would wag.
Whether 21st-century Korea or here, some things never changed.
"Hydran, Bedka. Attend to Sir Kaiser's meals and all his needs."
"As you command."
"Then I'll see you shortly."
With that, Isis lightly gathered her dress hem, curtsied, and left the room.
'She's taking them all? No way she's discarding those precious clothes?'
Once Isis was gone, the maids followed like a string of candies.
Seeing the expensive outfits vanish filled him with regret.
'The fateful day has dawned at last.'
Though summoned by imperial decree, he doubted the emperor remembered him.
His position as a mere honorary baronet was too lowly for a noble title.
He'd been implicitly appointed acting lord of Neruman by the late Count Yaiks, supreme commander, but he lacked formal lordship.
Thus, a confrontation was inevitable.
The emperor's approval was essential for upgrading his nobility.
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"Chwang!"
No sooner had he stepped from the carriage than a resounding "Chwang!" echoed.
'Tsk tsk. Not for me, you idiots.'
The imperial guards saluted him—reserved only for the imperial family.
They'd seen only his feet descending from the princess's carriage and paid respects accordingly.
Realizing their salute was for him, not the princess, their faces crumpled.
He extended his hand.
"Please, step down."
"Thank you."
Only then did Isis take his hand and descend.
"Ch... Chwang!"
Seeing Isis, the guards reluctantly shouted it again.
They stood like fools before the Hall of Glory, where the emperor hosted the banquet.
They'd polished themselves spotless, even donning crisp red magic cloaks, but one blunder ruined it all.
Rustle rustle.
'When will I ever ride a carriage inside the palace? Heh.'
Non-royals had to walk within the inner palace.
Fortunately, the Hall of Glory was near the gate; otherwise, rain would ruin the show-offs.
'Security's airtight.'
The emperor's birthday party invited only nobles and knights.
Every imperial guard and soldier seemed mobilized; red cloaks rippled everywhere.
'How many gathered?'
As royalty, Isis moved leisurely.
But other nobles would have arrived early to avoid notice.
Step step.
'Isn't this the red carpet I've only heard of?'
Like those at film festivals.
He headed toward the Hall of Glory entrance, lined with dozens of pillars meters wide, over the red carpet reserved for royals.
Ascending the stairs slowly, he soon reached the grand doors.
'They spared no expense.'
Second only to the emperor's palace, the Hall of Glory was the largest.
Used for victory celebrations or empire founding anniversaries—he'd heard in knight academy.
It screamed opulent triumph.
Dragon and human soldiers waged epic war against orcs and monsters in massive reliefs on the walls.
European murals he'd seen paled in comparison.
"Welcome, Princess."
"Thank you for your service, Lord Chamberlain."
"You're welcome."
'The chamberlain's a count, right?'
He'd heard palaces had butlers like noble houses.
And they held countships.
'Classy.'
A vital role managing imperial household affairs.
Clashing with temperamental royals required constant smiles—a tough job.
Yet the most esteemed among counts.
The emperor's unseen hand, always at his side.
The white-haired chamberlain greeted Isis with a warm smile.
Beside him, twenty courtiers in palace attire exuded refined elegance.
Like city mouse versus country mouse.
A far cry from territorial servants.
"Please wait a moment."
Bowing slightly, he asked them to wait and entered not the main doors, but a small side one.
"Her Highness the Second Imperial Princess Isis von Bazran has arrived."
His clear voice rang from within.
'The moment of truth.'
Creak.
Even with his iron nerves, his heart raced.
The massive doors slowly opened.
Whoosh.
".....!!"
A torrent of blinding light burst forth as they parted.
Though broad daylight outside, the Hall of Glory's glow rivaled the sun.
Rustle rustle. Isis strode in fearlessly.
He followed at her side, caught off guard.
'Gah!'
An involuntary inner scream escaped as he entered.
The sight was overwhelming.
The famed Hall of Glory party.
A colossal chandelier of cut gems at center; dozens of white pillars like stern soldiers upholding the vast hall; glossy black marble floor.
Nobles within flaunted their fashions.
Not hundreds.
The Hall, entered naively with Isis, teemed like a sea of people, mocking "packed."
He took her proffered hand.
Over the red carpet in the Hall.
Rustle rustle rustle.
Isis walked ahead, dress trailing.
Bow bow.
Nobles on both sides bowed to the princess's confident stride.
'She's got guts.'
Unfazed amid what seemed a thousand nobles.
That's what made her a princess.
Bloodlines mattered; no dragon from a gutter, whether 21st-century or here.
'Empperor!'
Escorting Isis, he spotted figures ahead.
A man on a golden throne studded with dozens of gems.
Habitron von Bazran, ruler of the Great Bazran Empire.
'He's gravely ill.'
He looked sickly.
Mid-fifties, yet pallid like a starving patient.
Zap.
As they approached, imperial guards behind the emperor glared.
Unauthorized proximity to the emperor.
He released Isis's hand.
"I greet Father Emperor."
"Isis, come here."
Ten meters from the emperor.
Isis approached alone, gathered her dress elegantly, and curtsied.
The emperor gazed at her fondly.
"Isis, sit here."
"Yes, Mother Empress."
A gentle-faced woman beside the emperor.
'Empress Nermis.'
At knight academy entrance, he'd known little of imperial politics.
He'd thought the crown prince's mother was empress, but later learned the hierarchy.
Not first or second wives—formal Empress Nermis and consort-like Imperial Consort Ermiang.
And their children.
Empress Nermis, overshadowed for birthing no imperial prince.
Isis would look like her in years to come; faint wrinkles as she welcomed her.
'Whoa, then that shrewish hen is the consort? Blood tells.'
A woman eyeing Isis's reception by emperor and empress with displeasure.
Seated to the emperor's right.
'A vixen.'
Old enough for crown prince, yet looked mid-thirties: Imperial Consort Ermiang.
Upturned eyes gave a fierce air, but her face was striking.
She radiated sexy allure fitting the word "vixen."
"Take your seat already. The greetings are delayed because of you."
The pigheaded crown prince beside her grumbled curtly at Isis.
'That bastard needs a beating someday...'
Rage boiled seeing Crown Prince Poltbiran's arrogant face.
He'd warn him to watch dark alleys.
For the emperor's birthday, the prince wore blue ceremonial robes of gold, mithril thread, and jeweled buttons.
He believed their quiet reckoning would come.
"Begin."
As Isis sat beside the empress, the emperor spoke softly.
Barely audible to those nearby, yet it seemed to echo through the vast hall.
'Even sick, a lion's a lion.'
An aura no mere beast could touch till death.
It vibrated the hall.
'Heh, the kid's holding his own today.'
Razsion, seated beside Isis, caught his eye.
The cub returned a subtle nod.
Lion cub aura.
"The Great Bazran Empire's sovereign, son of god, His Imperial Majesty Emperor Habitron von Bazran's birthday celebration begins! All nobles, raise your cups in toast!"
A noble he'd not seen before raised his glass, announcing on imperial order.
Clink clink.
Nobles took red wine glasses from attendants' trays.
'Whoa! A real imperial party!'
Born in Korea, when else?
Like fancy foreign elite parties in news.
He savored the luxury, lifting his glass.
"I sincerely thank all who came to celebrate my birthday."
The emperor's brief words, forcing a smile amid exhaustion.
"..."
Silence blanketed the Hall momentarily.
No one expected so short a greeting.
"Long life to His Majesty!"
The announcer noble quipped first.
"Long life to His Majesty!"
Nobles echoed.
He joined, toasting the emperor's health.
'Nice!'
He tilted the wine glass to his lips.
Hot grape wine slid down his throat.
Sweet yet tart—delicious.
'Huh? Not a one-shot?'
Opening eyes after savoring it shot, he met nobles' awkward stares.
"...Haha. It's exquisite."
He laughed heartily, praising the wine.
But nobles' gazes chilled.
Like encountering an untouchable breed, cold expressions.
"That inauspicious black hair..."
"Best avoid him."
"He's mocking nobility, they say."
"Looks fine, but..."
Whispers rippled among nobles.
They knew him.
"Heh."
Ancestors included sewer-playing servants or whores, yet they scorned him, oblivious to station.
As expected.
"Imperial homage to His Majesty begins. Envoys from kingdoms, counts and above, and invited nobles, step forward."
The lead noble amplified with mana.
Rustle rustle step step.
Nobles streamed toward the low dais.
From over a thousand, chosen hundreds—with wives—approached the emperor.
He too advanced toward the emperor.
Ignoring the nobles' stares entirely.