Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Unearthing the Dragon Fang Sword
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“I hereby decree. Ardein von Illumina shall be appointed as the Grand Inquisitor of the Imperial Supreme Court. In addition, she shall be enfeoffed as a Circuit Judge.”
Edmund von Illumina clenched his fist the moment he heard those words. So tightly that his nails dug into his flesh. His hand hurt, but his heart hurt more, so it didn’t matter.
The Imperial Supreme Court stood above the High Court as the empire’s highest judicial body. Excluding the emperor, no one ranked above them.
At least in matters of judicial authority. Their judgments carried legally guaranteed authority, and defying them was tantamount to defying the empire itself. In theory, at least.
On top of that, a Circuit Judge. This was a system born from the empire’s vast territory. Not every matter could go through a formal court, so judges traveled the empire’s cities and villages, receiving cases and issuing rulings to fill those gaps as best as possible.
The crucial point was that no Grand Inquisitor had ever also served as a Circuit Judge before.
The Grand Inquisitor of the Imperial Supreme Court was the pinnacle of the judiciary, a heavyweight in the empire at large. Such dignified figures were meant to don their judicial robes and wield the gavel solemnly in the Supreme Court, not wander the outskirts lecturing ignorant villagers on imperial law and passing judgments in their old age.
Bestowing both titles on the princess at once was tantamount to granting her immense authority. It gave her the leeway to claim that whatever she did was a “legally justified ruling.” That alone made Edmund’s teeth grind, but this was merely the beginning.
“I hereby bestow a sacred edict. Ardein von Illumina shall be enshrined as Captain of the Imperial Guard.”
“Your Majesty, that is...!”
Edmund cried out in horror at the follow-up, but he regained his senses when the emperor addressed him directly. There was no flaw in the emperor’s words, and the justification was impeccable.
“Aida has already become a Master. If I don’t treat a Master to this extent, what Master in the world would ever serve under the empire?”
The Imperial Guard. It wasn’t the emperor’s hidden trump card, but it was the most openly displayed force defending the capital. Why was a trump card a trump card? Because it couldn’t be revealed lightly.
True aces like the Soaring Heavens Knight Order, the Secret Guard, the Dragon Fang Legion, and the Imperial Council of Elders were ones even the emperor couldn’t deploy at will. They were the empire’s hidden daggers, to be unsheathed only in existential crises. That was why no one dared rebel.
Within the lines the empire had drawn, challenging the emperor was no great feat for the powerful figures across the land. Yet none truly desired outright rebellion.
At most, they schemed to enthrone an emperor to their liking. A real revolt would shatter the existing order, with unpredictable consequences.
These “secret forces” were secret for a reason. Their strength, their might—all lay shrouded in mystery.
Thus, no one could predict their impact, ensuring no one acted rashly.
All living things could grow infinitely strong, if they had the qualifications.
As the Arctic Grimudo had proven with his very existence.
That was why even vast armies couldn’t match a single Master. No matter how many soldiers charged relying on numbers alone, a Master who recovered mana near-infinitely and unleashed relentless attacks was no opponent for ordinary folk.
It was as foolish as trying to overwhelm a death god with sheer numbers.
Why had the Flesh Underground Citadel, despite gathering four hundred thousand troops, never roared toward the world?
Because it had only one Master-level powerhouse: Balzac himself. That was precisely why Masters were hailed as ultimate beings. If the emperor’s own daughter, an absolute powerhouse at this realm, would never betray the imperial family, granting her this level of treatment was hardly surprising.
The world called Master-level powerhouses Transcendents. Such beings could serve as a nation’s mightiest force, surpassing entire armies.
Thus, every nation and faction vied to recruit them. Even a slave who reached Master could find refuge in any kingdom and wed a princess.
The princess was the emperor’s daughter. If he didn’t grant even this to his own flesh and blood, what would other Masters think of him?
They’d see him as a stingy miser, too cheap to share titles and wealth. Why would they then pledge themselves to the empire?
Edmund could only swallow hard. How could he argue?
Would the imperial prince openly advocate skimping on honors for the empire’s pillars? What reason would they have not to defect to another nation or the Holy Kingdom?
‘Very well, Father. Very well indeed.’
As his rage subsided, the finishing blow landed.
“And she shall be appointed Inspector of the Imperial Inspectorate, with authority to oversee all imperial armies as a military supervisor.”
“If I may be so bold, is the fourth the position of Crown Prince?”
Even Archbishop Arize rarely spoke up, voicing her concern. Edmund’s eyes bulged in matching dismay. What was this if not declaring the princess as heir?
The emperor hadn’t publicly announced her as Crown Prince, but in truth, his mind was set. And he had made it clear to everyone present.
If it was to be this way,
Why had he striven so hard to earn merits and his father’s recognition?
All because she was born of the principal wife, that princess could cause endless trouble and still bask in such favor. Edmund’s eyes reddened. He couldn’t tell if it was fury or sorrow.
“That is all.”
But it wasn’t over yet.
“There are no more positions to give. Only an object remains. Bring it in. At last, someone worthy of wielding it has appeared in the imperial family.”
*****
Thud!
Several knights, grunting with effort, hauled in a heavy chest and set it down with a thud.
His Majesty personally laid hands on the chest and opened it. Inside gleamed a golden sword, more ornate than any I had ever seen, radiating a brilliant presence.
Yurinel’s holy sword was plainer than expected. Of course, its unassuming appearance didn’t reflect its power. The holy sword was one of the continent’s mightiest weapons. But judged by looks alone, it paled beside that exquisite blade.
Such swords were typically ornamental, lacking practicality—and if it were merely that, it wouldn’t have been treasured and stored away so preciously.
Ornamental swords belonged on display stands, not hidden where no one could see.
“Your Majesty, may I ask what that is?”
For the first time, one of the silent elders spoke. His robed face was unfamiliar yet somehow not. Perhaps I had crossed paths with him once.
Where had I seen him? Right—when I visited the Magic Tower with Panel. I hadn’t met him in person, but the portrait in the Magic Tower’s corridor lingered in my memory.
The man with that exact face was surely the Magic Tower’s Lord Oldman.
Panel’s master, then. I hadn’t expected to see him here, but everyone present seemed to wield tremendous authority.
Yet even he, face flushed, couldn’t tear his gaze from the sword. His eyes trembled like those of one smitten with first love, refusing to look away.
His voice quavered, failing to maintain composure—so I wasn’t the only one baffled. The three archbishops and others briefly focused on the Tower Lord.
“An immense magical power emanates from it. To a mage, it’s a treasure worth devoting a lifetime to study. Might the Magic Tower formally request to borrow it?”
“My apologies, Tower Lord, but that won’t be possible. This sword is the empire’s treasure, bestowed by the Founding Emperor.”
All present showed surprise at his words.
“The Founding Emperor was extraordinary even before establishing the Illumina Empire, a direct descendant of dragons. Among the treasures his draconic ancestors left our house, this Dragon Fang Sword—forged from his own tooth—is the most emblematic.”
“Dragon Fang Sword!”
“Indeed, its material is dragon bone—specifically, a tooth imbued with the mightiest magical power. The three archbishops may find this distasteful, but to the Illumina bloodline, this sword holds such symbolic weight that trading it for a holy sword wouldn’t even merit discussion.”
His Majesty, gripping the golden blade firmly, tapped the shoulder of the kneeling princess with it. She bit her lip, striving not to tremble, but her shoulders quivered faintly nonetheless, unable to contain her emotion.
“Yet no imperial kin had ever become a Master until now. With no one fit to wield this precious sword, it could only be hidden deep in storage as a mere treasure.”
Was she weeping? Her head was bowed, so I couldn’t tell, but the princess was surely trembling. The sword’s symbolic meaning must be immense to the imperial family.
“But a sword no one wields is little better than scrap metal. Now that its master has been born, the sword must return to its owner and shine once more.”
“Impressive, Your Majesty. To unveil such a treasure at last. Even our Magic Tower, which delves into all things draconic, was ignorant of the Dragon Fang Sword’s existence.”
“In truth, the first emperor never needed to wield it himself.”
His Majesty burst into laughter.
“Back then, the peerless swordsman who became the Founding Emperor’s blade quelled chaos and brought order, reaching a realm where he could cleave the world with a single blade of grass. He was also the founder of the Soaring Heavens Knight Order you all know.”
“The Founding Emperor wished to pass this sword to him, but for such a man, wielding the Dragon Fang Sword was no better than holding a twig.”
“When he refused, this sword—made from dragon bone—went unused in battle for ages. Today, I wish to break that tradition.”
He planted the sword before the princess. As she rose on trembling legs and caressed the hilt, he continued.
“My daughter has returned to my side, and the treasured blade has found its place. In three days, I shall hold a grand banquet to celebrate. Take your leave for now.”
His Majesty’s gaze lingered on one spot. His son, Prince Edmund, couldn’t unclench his fist or raise his bowed head, as if fearing his expression would be seen.
Thus, he missed the emperor gazing at him with sorrowful eyes.
“Ardein, stay a moment. And you, Priest—if time permits, will you join me for a drink?”
In that scene, I saw they too had their share of hardships.
The emperor. From below, he seemed the mightiest powerholder, commanding the empire.
A throne where one could bend the world to one’s will, a seat atop all men that anyone might wish to occupy for even a day.
But in the end, just a man.
A person living among people.
Even he was no exception to the headaches of child-rearing.
“With pleasure.”
That was why I nodded in assent.
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