Chapter 291
Chapter 291
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: One Empire, Three Legends (50)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
****
The imperial palace grounds were vast enough to accommodate a huge crowd and remarkably clean. If it weren't for the scattered, stained tents reminiscent of a refugee camp, one could easily believe they had prepared a grand site fit for a coronation.
"I've seen it with my own eyes, so I get the size, but why is it so spotless? Did they already clean it all up?"
"There's a big hole over there for dumping trash. That cliff. The stones at the base that support the palace foundations are all reinforced with some kind of advanced sorcery that makes them impervious to normal impacts. Once Scarrad saw that, he swept everything away with his axe. There were a few explosions, and all that was left were those cleanly reinforced foundation stones."
Ah, that explains it. The grounds felt slightly elevated compared to the surrounding terrain. Guess the brute force shaved down the earth to make it look that way.
On one side of the grounds, the survivors of the capital huddled together. Notum was there too, flashing sorcery seals as she tapped at the foundation stones in a corner. Ottoman was scooping water from a small spring-like pool he'd made on the ground beside the palace site, while Aldrich sat next to it, performing a ritual offering with a small bowl of water for some unseen soul. Yggdrasil was locked in debate with Tairea, the pure-blood elf from the elven forest.
Everyone was busy with their tasks. And the star of the show, our very own Lady Lucilla Aedran, was...
"This is too good to keep to myself."
"That's why we're watching together?"
"No, not you. I mean, something like this exists."
It was entertaining enough to understand why Astraad had phrased it as "go see it for yourself."
"Lady Aedran, I must apologize for having you in a place without even a roof."
"Oh, Duke Schwartz. If you speak to me so formally, it's a courtesy beyond my station... it makes me a bit flustered."
"What is there to be flustered about, Miss Lucilla? Duke Schwartz's house was founded thanks to Lady Nasellia Schwartz, who came from Teldrat that generation and aided the first head, Sir Arthur Schwartz—she's practically half the family's founder. And our Glen family? Long ago, when we were falsely accused of an inescapable conspiracy, it was Lady Nadia Glen, the matriarch at the time, who proved our innocence after sleepless nights. You're the successor to such benefactors and elders of both houses... someone of equal standing who deserves far grander treatment than us old fogeys. Isn't that right, Muto? You served her without neglect, yes?"
"Yes, sir! Wise words, elder! I treated her as preciously as when you gave me new clothes after ten years as your servant!"
"Hmm. Well done. You're not entirely useless."
Our rough-mouthed little merchant girl was being treated with the utmost deference by Duke Dyke Schwartz, who cleaved the witch's tower in a single stroke after someone else barely managed to punch a hole through it in a desperate frenzy, and by Duke Glen, the Awakening Breaker whose mere name sent arrogant mages fleeing—these men fawned over her like family ancestors.
And Gainax, looking quite flustered at the sight of Lucilla in her elegant yet not ostentatious dress and full makeup, befitting the center of this tragedy. Beside him, the gaunt, hollow-eyed elder Scarrad chuckled and muttered something about "still only seven years old—"
For an emperor and his retinue on the eve of a coronation, they seemed... makeshift? Pastoral, maybe?
Watching this, I could see why Dana, Ian, and Vex had made such a fuss when they first met her. From an outsider's perspective, this was hilarious.
"Ahhh... Ah, th-this way, Hero! Over here! Astraad! You finally made it!"
Just then, Lucilla spotted us and waved frantically, shouting. Her waving seemed less like joy and more like a plea for rescue.
"Ahem. Dukes, forgive our late greeting. I am the Instrument of Light, known as Professor."
"Hm? Ah, yes. You're the man Scarrad sent up. Pleased to meet you. I'm Dyke Schwartz, head of House Schwartz. The power that felled the witch and her monstrosity was a fresh thrill to these old eyes. Most impressive."
"The Saint of Light... Our heads inherit only the name, so I'm just known as Glen these days. Thanks to your picturesque rampage, relations between the Order of Valor and the Empire have gotten... headache-inducing."
"The Order of Valor... Speaking of, where are they?"
"Well, while the Empire dithered against the mutants' invasion, the Order's members all rushed to the frontiers to hold them back. They never imagined disaster in the safest capital, so they emptied their parishes and bolted. True, no one served the Empire more devotedly, but it's caused us headaches. That said, your contributions stand. Half the crowd behind you chanting for light were originally their followers. We needed religious pressure for freer political rebuilding of the capital, but now both sides have us over a barrel. Tricky business."
As I approached and greeted them, the two dukes near Lucilla acknowledged me warmly.
Sure, praise from the Sword Sage, master of masters, was an honor. But what hit my ears now was from High Judge Glen, the political noble of the capital—now filled with corpses and cripples—who would advise the new emperor up close.
"Ah, no need to worry. I just finished speaking with the Archbishop of Light."
"You could've talked to me..."
"No, no. Seeing the people you brought aren't rioters shows you've done plenty. Can't burden a busy man with minutiae."
Of course, it meant I was a step late to join that conversation.
What can you do? Time spent on one side means lost on the other.
"Seems you have private matters to discuss. We'll old folks step away. See you at the coronation. You there, wind mage. Come with us a moment. As their representative, you have duties."
"Ah, yes. Then, Professor, Lucilla. See you later."
With Astraad gone and the dukes bowing politely to Lucilla before withdrawing, Professor closed her wide-open tent flap, visible from Gainax's side. Shielded from outside eyes, Lucilla finally exhaled in relief.
"Whew! Thought I was suffocating! Did you see? Duke Glen! The incarnation of social eloquence, father of modern noble rhetoric! And next to him, Duke Dyke Schwartz, the Sword Sage revered by imperial knights as much as the emperor! Wow, and they're teasing me about being a family elder and such... I didn't know whether to parry it as a joke or politely decline the overhonor..."
"You seem pretty excited."
"...That obvious?"
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"Aw... What do I do? Maybe thicker makeup... No, too flashy here could draw criticism..."
Free from prying eyes, Lucilla revealed her true self. Fanning her flushed face, trying on earrings, she suddenly whirled to me.
"I really like that guy. Like, weirdly so."
Well, look at her cut straight to it.
"You're sure?"
"After profoundly cool-headed, clear, logical calculations, I've concluded no better marriage prospect than Gainax exists. For real. Seriously."
"Hm... Just that? Really? Come on, Lucilla, just us—be honest. If you're being forced by circumstances... I could cause a scene. Want me to?"
"As if—!"
Crash!
Lucilla shot up unwittingly, her eyes darting between the toppled chair and my grinning face, then deflating.
"Uh... No need for that... I think."
Fidgeting as she righted the chair, peeking through the tent flap.
Good. Not what I feared. If family pressure or the Empire's weight dragged her here, I'd have wrecked it.
"Then, straight to marriage at the coronation? Or engagement? Any talks?"
"Ughhh!!! Th-that's too fast! We... talked briefly. Gainax said... he doesn't know enough yet, unsure how to repay, so maybe... take time, explore together. Stay in the capital till then... F-for the Empire's honor! As emperor, properly rewarding the one who gave the first emperor's relic would blemish the new Empire! So, that's..."
"Hey, got it. But don't get too comfy. Post-coronation, tomorrow's letters with the news will fly Empire-wide. Empire's beauties will swarm like clouds for the handsome, capable bachelor's seat."
"I know that."
One mention of rivals, and Lucilla's eyes ignited quietly.
"Yeah... So, you'll stay in the capital."
"Yes..."
Despite everything, she's going her own way.
Let's see... Winter passed, spring came—she's seventeen now? Empire years make her eighteen in Korean count?
She looked like a kid forever, but finding her place so soon felt strange.
Like with Aldrich, Professor extended his hand to Lucilla.
"No point dragging this out—it's just repeating the farewell party. You seem like you'll thrive without me saying so. Thanks for everything, Lucilla. Wherever, whenever, keep that spunky spirit."
Days ago before Vorka.
Hours ago before Aldrich.
Now, before Lucilla—Professor's outstretched hand.
She knew its meaning without words.
Gazing at it with mixed emotions, she grumbled in a misty voice.
"...Isn't it too short? The others who left first teared up recalling Blue Line, Yggdrasil's village, all that. Even Notum sniffled a bit."
"Want longer? ~Well then, this saint, under the blessings of light, met two souls, Miss Lucilla Aedran and Sir Gainax Agdan, and with heartfelt blessing for their union, offers a few words of advice for the long road ahead~ First, never lose faith in each other; like one ship braving waves, endure storms together..."
"What the—!"
"Saint stuff. Prepared in case they asked me to officiate, but no wedding today, so wasting it."
At Professor's jest, Lucilla's face twisted between laugh and cry.
Instead of taking his hand, she buried her face in his broad chest.
"...I don't have your or the others' amazing skills. But I tried so hard not to be a burden."
"I know."
"In Blue Line, crammed in that tiny cart, peeling tough herbs till my fingers blistered, squeezing juices. On Storm Hill, safe alone, but desperate to help—wrote letters frantically. Worried it'd cause issues, tossed and rewrote them..."
"I know. Thanks to you, we sent off the Saint of Mercy safely. And that royal invite from it got us through so many headaches."
"Sniff... Sob..."
Oh no. That's why I kept it short.
Feeling his thin robe dampen, Professor stroked her trembling head.
"Come back... to the Empire someday. Aedran... always repays debts. Everything you did, protected, treated me as comrade... I'll repay it all, with court interest... I will..."
"Oh dear. Then I'd owe you. Better not come."
"Eek, ugh... You're... too much..."
Oops. Retract that—she's still a kid.
"Live well, Lucilla."
"Ugh... You too, Hero..."
"No rubbing faces. Smudges your makeup."
"Pfft, heh... Till the end, really..."
"Heh heh. That's me. Oh, a gift."
"What... a flag?"
"The late emperor's final gift. Show Gainax later. Anyone raised in the capital will know what it is."
Only after lifting her tear-streaked face with a slight smile could Professor leave her tent.
The bustling cleanup signaled the coronation neared.
He asked nearby maids to enter Lucilla's tent, stared piercingly at the closed flap until Gainax, pretending not to notice their eye contact, then approached him.
Plenty to say, but... Recall the throne war rumors: he pursued tyranny. Gainax at thirty-three. Tyrant. Tyrant.
'Medieval noble society. Fifteen-year gap isn't much.'
No time for saintly rambling. Just essentials.
"Hey. New Emperor Majesty."
"...Saint. You. Late, but thanks for breaking my Empire-bound sword—"
"Lucilla's totally into you."
"Pfft! Cough, hack!"
"Do well."
Perfect. That'll do. He shriveled when I beat him before, same now. Oddly clumsy—suits Lucilla.
Leaving Gainax choking, Professor hummed toward the coronation site.
No matter the prep, what could they do in this wasteland?
A coronation for the Empire's emperor, yet so modest.
Ruins for venue, attendees few enough to see end from the podium. No salutes, marches, foreign envoys or gifts.
From dukes who terrified nobles with a word, to ragged servants—all pitched in carrying needs. Like announcing a newborn petty kingdom. Fitting the current Empire, perhaps.
When nobles to servants, all capital survivors took positions.
"I awoke from long slumber. So I believed."
The new emperor, Gainax, spoke before them.
"The Empire of Lions was born one, made one. As the tragedy's royal culprit, no circumlocution. The Empire orchestrated this horror. What slashed your lives was the Empire's prosperity—its shattered frame. The ancient force binding us grew uncontrollably, and finally, bloated with the Empire, that sickness birthed this disaster."
Harsh critique burdening listeners. Amid unease, Gainax's icy gaze fell.
"But! I won't say the Empire's past was wrong. Behold this vast, mighty Empire. Kingdoms once prouder than our small cities now span half the continent; five centuries of peace left even beggars unfamished—a peerless power!"
"The first emperor merely chose what that era needed. Now, its time ends."
"Thus, we—the Empire—must be reborn!"
Thud!
Gainax planted the flag Lucilla gave him beside him, shouting.
"Powerless past or not, the Empire remains! Nay, transcending lifeless peace with vitality! We are reborn! Free from the old lion's embrace, like scattered seeds—we'll grow lush!"
Crackle. Crumble.
On barren palace grounds, the empty flag fluttered. Charred cloth shed ashes like molting, drawing new patterns.
Not inherited—only he, here, now, could do this for the Empire. From pure care for its people, the new emperor's vision birthed the new Empire's flag.
'It's over.'
The long Empire saga's end touched Professor, who'd dashed at its heart.
People clasping hands, inspired, gazing up at Gainax.
Lucilla's sparkling eyes on his bold declaration.
Her companions and Astraad watching fondly.
The dukes witnessing the new emperor; the executioner, leaning on his axe, ending his long vow with life.
The pure-blood elf, frowning slightly, fiddling with the world tree's branch beside him.
"Ancient trees burn yet sprout anew, storms rage yet hold ground! I, the newly reborn Empire's emperor, Agdan I! Master of the ancient tree fed by our 500-year lion! Shall protect the Empire! Let your free wills grow grander trees, budding new leaves worldwide!"
....Zzzt. Zizzle.
Why? Such a fine sight. Perfect closure,感動 ensuing.
Why this itch, awkward unease.
Why this déjà vu.
Why that flag. The new Empire's symbol why.
"W...ords... won't... come..."
Professor's eyes fixed on the flag shedding black ash, reborn.
Towering dead tree amid ruins. Vast trunk propping Empire's sky, deep roots embracing its earth, wrapping new saplings.
Upper semicircle of trunk. Lower of roots. Central thick pillar, smaller trees' lines.
Like hemispheres joined top-bottom, central power plant tower, archaic skyscrapers below.
"Why... is that... here...?"
The Dome's flag—exact shape—flapping as the Empire's.
Zzzt—hiss—cracklecracklecrackle—
....Ding
"...System alert... Why... now?"
Zzzt—hiss—screech—
[P. P. P. P. P....-]
[[email protected]*^ ‘professor’ has reached a historical crossroads—dldldldl]
[External connection, exposure, data. Block complete.]
[Simulation No.3 - 437691. Singularity reached.]
[....Player ‘professor’ data permission point not reached confirmed.]
[Neural stimulation and brainwave disruption for secrecy..... . . . . Error.]
[....Unverified dummy data. ‘# Hide’ on hold. Temporary storage.]
[Debugging and phase transition: infringing player permissions.]
Waves of strings drowned Professor's frozen mind, dragging it to Gedroits's Game's depths, fading.
Amid fervent applause and cheers, Gainax concluded his coronation.
"Through old order, we forge new life! Thus, I proclaim the new Empire's founding!"
"Waaaaah!!!"
Waaaaah—
Ahhh
Ah
Ah
Ah
Ah
Ah....
.
.
.
.
.
In a world melting like stretched tape, halting completely.
"...I know not why Mother granted such chance to lowly humans."
Clack—
"But that too, a world's will small branches can't grasp."
The pure-blood elf Tairea retrieved the world tree branch that had subtly poked Professor's side unbeknownst to all, vanishing into stopped time.
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
[Intervening at Administrator ‘World Tree's’ request. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening. Intervening.]
[Game paused.]
****