The Imperial Exhibition Match (1)
The Emperor of the Barhart Empire, Dominique Loop Barhart, spoke with an air of perfect nonchalance, uttering something utterly absurd. "Hmm, it's good to see Father looking so vigorous. While we're at it, I wouldn't mind if he took this throne back this time around."
At those words, the Imperial Chancellor, Ordo von Devien, unconsciously let out a heavy sigh right in front of him. It was undeniably a crime of disrespect, but his mind and body were simply too exhausted to care about such things right now. Besides, Dominique wasn't the type to fuss over details anyway.
"...I'll pretend I didn't hear that. You there, do the same."
The scribe, whose hands were trembling as he debated whether to record the Emperor's bombshell statement, set his pen down with visible relief at his superior's command. Dominique glanced at him sideways and waved his hand, signaling the man to leave. The scribe vanished from the room as if carried away by a gale.
Dominique tilted his head. "I sometimes wonder why Father, who overturned nearly all the unreasonable customs and systems from the royal era, chose to keep the scribe system. Since anything awkward for future generations would be censored anyway, was there really a need to keep someone hovering nearby? Wouldn't it be more comfortable for the fellow to just hole up at home and write whatever he wants without reading the room like this?"
"From what I heard, His Late Majesty the Previous Emperor said, 'Without even that, how would these emperors even pretend to wonder if what they're doing is madness?'"
"When he could just fix it with a single word, I don't see the point. Or how about this? What if the scribe who just left is actually hiding somewhere nearby, recording every word of this conversation? Including the parts where I said to keep this secret or not to write that down."
"Your expectations for a mere bureaucrat are rather high. Unless the man has a hundred necks, who would commit such insanity?"
"Well, that's true enough."
Dominique nodded, muttering "Yeah, exactly" to himself, and asked no further questions. Left with no choice, the Chancellor spoke first.
"What shall we do with Count Robert Fischer's remains? No matter what, leaving them unattended for too long in the middle of the palace isn't advisable."
"Wouldn't Father handle it himself? If it's truly necessary, you may borrow my name to take care of it."
"And the proclamation?"
"Same thing. Leave it, or handle it as you see fit."
The previous Emperor, who had abdicated the throne and entered a state of semi-seclusion, had drawn his sword. And he had done so without any consultation with the current Emperor. As the one leading the empire, this was a situation that should have triggered sharp vigilance and prompt action, yet the Emperor remained as carefree as ever. Or, to put it more bluntly... he was completely indifferent. As if none of it had anything to do with him.
Therefore, the Chancellor spoke the words the Emperor himself should have uttered.
"We must intervene in the exhibition match even now. Depending on the outcome, the situation could spiral completely out of control, Your Majesty."
If Second Prince Lucas won, it would still be manageable. His faction would simply be recovering what they had lost in this incident, not gaining anything new. Even if the nobles involved had their scandals pardoned, it would merely be the imperial family showing 'mercy.' As long as the fact that they had committed crimes remained, those sins could still be used as a leash later. The announcement that the Previous Emperor would empty his personal coffers to bestow new equipment upon the central army was, literally, nothing more than a reward. There was almost no political risk.
But what if, by some slim chance, Princess Lyla emerged victorious?
Granting two territories or the right to appoint lords were secondary issues. After all, no specific lands had been designated. The real problem was that bestowing such power upon a princess who had previously held no real authority would serve as a signal to the other nobles. Especially considering that the one who had orchestrated this incident was the Great Emperor.
The central army, suddenly thrown into the mud, and the southern army, which had seized the chance to escape its long years of neglect—would they really stay quiet?
"Intervene? You mean I should butt into what Father is doing?"
"His Late Majesty is not acting with complete seriousness. If Your Majesty steps forward, he will likely match your pace."
Those who didn't know better trembled in fear, believing the Great Emperor was rampaging in fury after the Academy's attack. How wrong they were. To the Great Emperor, this was nothing more than light entertainment or a mild scolding for a troublesome brat. If he were truly enraged, he would not be acting this calmly.
Therefore, if the Emperor intervened, the Great Emperor would yield a step out of respect for his authority. They could nullify the exhibition match. Or proceed with the match but alter the rewards. Since the detailed rules and prizes had not yet been revealed, it was entirely possible.
However...
"Hmm, I'm sorry, but that won't do."
The Emperor shook his head.
"Your Majesty...!"
"Don't worry so much. In the end, all Lucas has to do is win, doesn't he? The odds are quite high. So let's leave it at that."
Though his tone was gentle, the content was closer to an order to speak no further. Realizing nothing he said would make a difference, the Chancellor quietly lowered his head. The efforts of one man trying to snuff out the spark before it became a blaze had come to nothing. Half a day later, the detailed rules of the exhibition match were publicly announced.
Now, it was a wildfire that could no longer be extinguished.
I'd just saved some people from a major disaster and was looking forward to raiding a dungeon in peace, but now I've been dragged into an imperial proxy war. This is all those damn fanatics' fault. I tried to catch them off guard with a preemptive ambush, but instead of walking neatly into the trap, those lunatics pulled some unheard-of power-up and went completely off the rails. The aftermath hit me square in the face.
If I could just get my hands on them, I'd smash them to pieces for real.
Thanks to the fireworks the Great Emperor launched, the entire empire was hopping around yelling "Hot! Hot!" In the process, the false charges of staging a play that had been hanging over us were conveniently swept under the rug. As a result, the place I was staying upgraded from a chilly underground prison to a splendid guest room in the palace.
Ligret and Fiore, whose arrest warrants had been lifted, flew straight to the capital with Princess Lyla.
"Chrome... just what have you done this time?"
Princess Lyla was staring at me with astonished eyes. Wait, I think there's some misunderstanding here. This wasn't my scheme, you know?
It was just some thirty-year-old man who, after being called "Your Highness" by everyone around him, started thinking he really was a teenager again. He decided to mess with a scary grandfather's mustache and got scolded for it, that's all.
"To think you'd even scam the Emperor now, of all things."
It wasn't the Emperor, it was the Great Emperor, you silly girl. And I didn't scam anyone! I never even saw the Emperor's face!
"Kyaa, amazing! You're the best, Brother! Now, quickly, what's our next move—"
"You already figured everything out! Stop pretending you don't know and trying to ride my coattails! I had practically nothing to do with this mess!"
At my words, Fiore smiled brightly. It was the look of someone gazing down at an inferior.
"But Brother, do you really think the people who know you will believe that?"
"No, the idiots at the Academy might fall for it, but who in the palace would actually think I caused this chaotic situation—"
BANG!
"Chrome Midas!! You bastard, just what the hell have you done now!"
Southern Army Commander Kalyos Schmidt burst into the room, his face flushed red like a ripe tomato from a cocktail of excitement, confusion, rage, and various other emotions. He grabbed me by the collar.
Damn it. So there was someone here who believed I was responsible.
"N-now, calm down. I swear on my life that I didn't set this up. The big shots just happened to collide on their own!"
"You expect me to believe that?!"
"Also, um, I'm not the only person in this room. Don't you think this kind of behavior might be a little inappropriate?"
"As if I care who sees me..."
The Southern Army Commander of the empire. A man of power who could look down on most nobles. Kalyos Schmidt arrogantly raised his eyes and scanned the room, only to meet the displeased gaze of the red-haired princess. His hand released my collar as smoothly as flowing water.
"Southern Army Commander Kalyos Schmidt greets Her Highness, Princess Lyla!"
Look at how fast he changed his attitude. His posture was so perfectly at attention it could have been used as a textbook example.
Princess Lyla glanced at him, then turned her head toward me. No, right now you should be acknowledging his greeting instead of looking at me. From now on, I have to lead the southern army he commands against the central army. If our relationship starts off rocky, it'll be a pain.
I understood that she was upset about the rampage that had just happened in front of her, but she needed to show some magnanimity right now.
Perhaps my desperate eye signals worked, because Princess Lyla gave a small nod. As expected, the eyes truly are the windows to the soul. No need for words; everything gets through—
"...Wasn't that behavior rather rude just now, Commander Kalyos Schmidt?"
—Yeah, right. As if.