Honors Bestowed
The Emperor shuffled in looking for all the world like some neighborhood layabout.
There was no commanding presence that seized the hall in an instant. Nothing of the lofty bearing one might expect from the sovereign of a great empire reached the gathered assembly.
His gait was ordinary. His posture and build were ordinary. Even his clothes were nothing lavish — just a comfortable military uniform, easy to wear. He hadn't so much as thrown a common cloak over his shoulders.
Only the imperial crown, set askew atop his head, proved he was the Emperor at all.
Mana did circulate through his body, but it seemed less the product of martial arts or magic and more some health regimen he'd taken up for his constitution.
In appearance he was an extraordinarily handsome man in his early thirties. Of course, his true age was surely far greater.
A trace of fatigue clung to his face, along with a clear air of not wanting to be bothered. He looked half-drowsy, as though he hadn't quite finished waking up. The gaze he cast over the assembly was thoroughly lackadaisical.
The Emperor strolled over at his leisure and dropped into the seat of honor with a motion that practically begged for the word plop. It was the center table among those arranged on the dais.
Three empresses, along with the princes and princesses, filed in behind him and took their places to either side. Esabel, the youngest, sat at the very end.
— ······.
The hall fell so still that birdsong from outside drifted faintly through. Hundreds of the Empire's high nobles sat in silence, every eye fixed on the Emperor alone.
He opened his mouth at a languid pace. Leon found himself leaning in to listen.
— Ahem, ahem. Good to see you all— wait, what.
When his voice came out no louder than an ant's, he turned around with a puzzled look.
— Ah, if you would wait just a moment, Your Majesty.
The court mage who had been mid-incantation spoke in a fluster. He hurriedly cast a voice-amplification spell on the Emperor.
The Emperor nodded and opened his mouth once more.
He immediately gestured to the steward. The man bowed with the ease of long practice and gave the signal.
Rumble······
Servants poured out in a throng, pushing carts, and began setting dishes upon the tables.
"······?"
What? That's it?
Leon, who had been waiting for the Emperor's next words, was left thoroughly dumbfounded.
Is this for real?
In his bewilderment he glanced around. No one else seemed the least bit concerned; every gaze was locked on the appetizers the servants were laying out.
— Oh, this looks delicious.
The Emperor, bantering with his wives, was inhaling the aroma of the soup with open admiration.
······The atmosphere was far too natural.
In that moment, Leon understood.
Ah. So he's just that kind of guy.
The Emperor. He seemed to be a man who lived life rather more casually than expected.
The meal stretched on for well over two hours.
It was only natural. This was a course the Emperor himself was serving to the nobility — no ordinary affair. The quality of a meal offered to guests was a measure of the host's standing, after all.
At first Leon had wondered how anyone was supposed to hold a conversation across such a vast space and the generous gaps between tables.
The answer was simple. They simply didn't converse. Everyone held their tongues and focused solely on the food.
So that's how it is.
It was a style that suited Leon just fine. He shut his mouth and ate.
Needless to say, it was finer than anything he had ever tasted. There was nothing to fault in the flavor. The only regret was that the portions were a touch small.
Click-.
Leon took a sip of the coffee that arrived as the final course and set the cup down.
When the belly is satisfied by such exquisite fare, body and mind alike grow languid. It is a law no human can escape.
And so, in that loosened atmosphere—
At last the Emperor's voice drifted out.
— ······.
So saying, the Emperor raised his glass and wet his throat.
"······."
This guy doesn't seem normal.
Watching him from close range, Leon thought as much.
Charisma? Dignity? Majesty? The Emperor had none of it. He seemed less an emperor than the headman of some rural village.
Just from his mannerisms and the way he spoke, the impression was immediate. This was a man who truly lived by the flow of his own consciousness — doing whatever the hell he felt like.
The Emperor paused with an expression that said, Now, what else was there······.
In the next instant, a sharp light filled those eyes that had been so languidly half-lidded.
The sudden shift in his gaze and tone. Power filled his words, and a fierce charisma seized every listener at once.
Oh.
Leon nodded inwardly. Seeing him like this, the man was every inch an emperor.
He had almost certainly been addressing the Demon Realm forces that had their sights set on the Empire. Someone of the Emperor's stature would surely be aware of the ominous currents circulating within and beyond the nation's borders.
It was a necessary speech. As their demonic reach grew ever more blatant and threatening, the Empire would only grow more chaotic — so hold steady, and keep your wits about you. A sharp reminder.
The Emperor's face slackened back into weary exhaustion.
Servants approached, set down glasses, and poured the wine. The fragrance that brushed past the nose was no ordinary thing. Even Leon, who had zero interest in liquor, could tell this was an exceptionally rare vintage.
The nobles throughout the hall raised their glasses high.
Everyone tipped their wrists and drained their glasses. Leon merely mimed the act of drinking, flooding the cup with mana to burn the alcohol away.
The Emperor set down his glass and suddenly rose from his seat.
The steward handed the Emperor a rectangular box about the size of two palms. It was coated in silver with gold ornamentation laid over it.
Box in hand, the Emperor walked steadily around the dining table and out to the front of the dais.
And then he spoke.
"······!"
Leon startled so hard he spilled a little of the coffee he'd been drinking.
Jesus.
Wiping his mouth, he turned his head······.
The Emperor was staring straight at him from atop the dais with those languid eyes. The countless gazes pouring in from every direction were a bonus.
What is this? Ah, don't tell me······.
Scrape-.
It was the Emperor's word, so Leon hurriedly rose and went forward.
The steward standing behind the Emperor gave Leon a small gesture. He was pointing to a spot directly before the Emperor, just below the dais — clearly meaning Leon should take that place.
Leon dropped to one knee as he had when receiving his letter of appointment, gaze fixed on the floor, and settled there.
"!"
For an instant the impulse surged to snap his head up and look at the Emperor.
······Get a grip.
He held it down.
The Emperor declared:
"Approximately two months past, Leon Crusif did voluntarily and of his own initiative thwart a scheme of the Demon Realm's forces unfolding in the small city of Pribil. He saved the lives of more than two thousand of Our subjects dwelling there, prevented the opening of a Demon Gate, and successfully slew a high-ranking demon, a newly emerged demonic beast specimen, other demonic beasts, and the enemy soldiers of the conspirators' organization. Through this, the Empire was able to clearly recognize and prepare against a group the Demon Realm had infiltrated into Our borders — and the danger thereof — which We might otherwise have overlooked. His merit in this is great."
"······."
His brief suspicion had been correct. The Emperor was about to deliver the commendation he had promised.
A question rose in Leon's mind.
Why now, of all times?
This was a public stage watched by countless high nobles. No light occasion.
Had the Emperor simply chosen this moment because the mood struck him? Or merely because now was convenient?
Or was there some other reason?
Even as he thought, the Emperor's words continued without pause.
"Furthermore. On the evening of yesterday, he made a critical contribution to the subjugation of the divine beast that had thrown the capital's Third and Fourth Districts into chaos. He slew a monster that would have dealt grave damage to the capital's core districts — and this merit, too, is far from small."
— ······.
"Beyond this, Leon Crusif has thrown himself without sparing his own body into matters great and small, contributing to the nation and serving as an example to all. Through outstanding talent and effort, he has attained a level of martial prowess none can dismiss — and at an age not yet twenty. This is nothing less than a blessing upon the realm. Therefore."
Click-
The Emperor opened the box he held. A dazzling golden light flashed from within, scattering its radiance.