The Emperor's Judgment
Rumors claimed that a single sigh could drive luck away. If that included the sighs one held inside, then his own luck must have been all but spent. With that thought, the chancellor turned his gaze upon the fool before him—no, upon the prince of this empire.
"This friendship match is invalid! How can the outcome of an honorable duel between imperial blood be decided by such underhanded means?"
Well, at least it was the second prince and not the crown prince. That was something. After reclaiming a measure of inner calm, the chancellor spoke.
"Your Highness Prince Lucas, the process and result of the match have been thoroughly reported to us through multiple recording artifacts and the observers' accounts. We found no irregularities. On what grounds would you declare a flawless victory void?"
"Then the judgment itself was flawed! Lyla bewitched us with that commoner and her honeyed lies! This was the tactic of a thief, not something befitting an imperial who leads the continent! How can you claim this outcome is just?"
"Your Highness, both sides confirmed the rules before the match began—"
"A rematch is necessary! A fair one-on-one duel would make it perfectly clear who is in the right!"
—They had agreed on the rules, begun the match, and the princess had secured victory through strategy within those rules, yet because the method lacked honor, the match was invalid. No matter how one looked at it, it was nonsense, but the second prince refused to yield. Many watching wore expressions of disbelief or thinly veiled contempt, and even the central army officers who should have been his allies flushed with embarrassment. A few nobles whose houses would crumble if they accepted defeat now openly leaned toward the prince's claim, though none dared voice it under the chancellor's watchful eye. The emperor's foresight in placing a high-ranking official as judge had once again proven effective; complaints were far fewer when the arbiter held real authority.
In the end, only the second prince remained, bellowing like a wounded beast, and with every shout the chancellor's frown deepened. Did this prince, who so loudly invoked "honor," realize that his very actions were dragging the imperial family's name through the mud?
"—How noisy. Listening to you makes me feel as though my ears are filling with pus."
The voice was low, yet heavy with authority. As shock rippled through the hall, the chancellor swiftly bowed.
"We greet the great former emperor of the Barhart Empire!"
""We greet the former emperor!""
Flanked by attendants clad in black and crimson, the former emperor acknowledged the greetings, then turned his gaze upon the chancellor.
"You have done well. And I am sorry. It seems the imperial bloodline keeps causing trouble, and the burden on you grows heavier each time."
"It is only natural for a subject to serve, Your Majesty. I would never call it hardship."
"Is that so? Even the battlefield scoundrel has become a proper ink-stained bureaucrat."
After resting a hand lightly on the chancellor's shoulder in a gesture of affection, the former emperor's eyes moved to Lucas, who stood frozen in dismay.
"Y-Your Majesty the former emperor, if you would hear me regarding this match—"
"I truly have grown old."
"Pardon?"
Paying no heed to Lucas's bewilderment, the former emperor continued.
"I thought you were merely a child who knew no fear and acted recklessly, but you are a petty rat by nature. Failing to see that at a glance and troubling so many people is also my sin."
"A… a petty rat?"
It was the first time in his life he had heard such an insult. Rage and humiliation pushed Lucas to the brink, leaving no room for rational thought. He drew a sharp breath to shout—
—or tried to.
Two crimson eyes met his. Deep, fathomless, their depths unknowable. Compared to a warrior who had reached the pinnacle, the body was frail and thin, nothing more than an aged, decrepit old man once all titles were stripped away. Yet the moment their gazes locked, Lucas's mind conjured the image of a colossal beast baring its fangs beside his throat, growling.
"Urk…"
His legs gave out. Lucas collapsed to the floor. The people around him only moved to support him after the former emperor had already departed and vanished from sight. Thus ended the pathetic downfall of the man who had dreamed of becoming the second "Great Emperor."
<>
As expected, Princess Lyla's victory sent shockwaves through the empire. The second prince, who had competed with the crown prince and the fourth prince for the throne, was utterly crushed, and many nobles aligned with his faction lost their real power, reduced to powerless elders. The central army, long fattened by the empire's overflowing coffers, was forced to surrender a significant portion of its sweet privileges to the southern army. Those who had associated with the second prince could not withstand their peers' cold stares and had to relinquish either their positions or their purses to cover the damage. Various ranks and interests once held by the second prince's faction now lay ownerless, the largest among them returning to the imperial family while the smaller scraps drew swarms of piranha-like opportunists.
Many exchanged secret glances about the future direction of imperial power, and some even began mentioning Princess Lyla as a new candidate. Most believed it impossible for her, only now entering the race, to catch up to the crown prince and fourth prince who were already far ahead. Yet a portion of the nobility thought differently.
'So, the second prince who just collapsed—where exactly did he fall short and get caught by the ankle?'
'It is obvious that the reason the Great Emperor grew angry lies in the matter concerning the academy. Since it is clear the academy will become the rising sun, Princess Lyla's position, having already secured a firm foothold there, will naturally strengthen as well.'
'Though her faction is still weak, that can also be seen as a great advantage. Thanks to this incident the southern army now stands with Her Highness, but one cannot rule with the military alone. In the end, the power of us nobles will be needed. In other words, the sooner one reaches out, the higher one can sit.'
The imperial family's additional announcement only reinforced their conviction. The territories awarded to Princess Lyla as victory prizes for the friendship match were all prime, top-tier lands. Of course, by imperial law no member of the royal family except the emperor could privately own territory, so the princess could not govern them directly. But what did that matter? As long as she held the right to appoint lords, she could place any trusted subordinate in those positions and control them at will.
The crown prince and fourth prince rejoiced at the second prince's fall while showing wariness toward this new rival, and many nobles began recalculating their prospects regarding this promising newcomer. And here, one man viewed the future from an entirely different angle.
"…Lucas's downfall went according to plan, but I never expected her to achieve it without anyone's help, purely on her own strength."
In a dim private chamber, Third Prince Julius sank into quiet contemplation. Using Lucas's closest aide to indirectly incite him and drive him into conflict with the former emperor had proceeded exactly as planned. The problem lay in the process itself. The reason he had even leaked the "declaration of war" to Lucas—who could not properly utilize even his own image—was to isolate Lyla. With the neutral nobles turning their backs on her, her only options would have been to reach out to either the crown prince or the fourth prince. The fourth prince lacked popularity and was deeply suspicious by nature, so even if he joined hands with Lyla they would inevitably clash. If she took the crown prince's hand, Julius was confident he could manipulate the situation by sowing discord between them. Yet Lyla had chosen neither path and seized victory—victory in the form most advantageous to herself.
If Lyla had won with the support of the neutral nobles, she would naturally have had to yield a corresponding "share" to them. That was simply how politics worked. Conversely, having won through her own power without relying on anyone, Lyla now held an absolute position of superiority. Was Lucas even more incompetent than Julius had thought, or was Lyla simply that capable? Or perhaps… she had a ruthless strategist aiding her.
Recalling the blond boy he had encountered during the mock battle, Julius fell into an unusually deep contemplation. Rationally speaking, there was little merit in the action he was about to take. But his intuition spoke clearly: if he did not thoroughly crush his opponent while they were still weak, they would become a grave threat later.
"…Crow."
"Yes, my lord."
"Inform the Spider. It is time to set a trap."
"Who is the target?"
Julius answered.
"Chrome Midas."