Emir's Burning Resolve, Trouble Looms for Morris
Emir Solarion wiped the sweat from her brow. Dressed in a blue training outfit meticulously crafted by a skilled artisan, she ran laps around the training grounds. Ever since the day she reunited with Morris, she'd started dieting to shed the extra weight. She'd run so much that her clothes were soaked through, clinging to her body and outlining every curve.
The knights training in the yard couldn't dare ogle their lady's figure and averted their eyes. But...
"Ahem."
It was only natural for their gazes to wander toward her voluptuous form.
"My lady, you're pushing yourself too hard," her attendant maid said with a worried expression.
"I'm fine. I can handle it."
"Skipping your favorite desserts today and exercising like this... What if you suddenly collapse?"
"I did have one slice of cake."
"That's exactly the problem! You used to handle ten slices without batting an eye."
The maid wiped away tears as she spoke.
"To become a woman worthy of Lord Morris, I have to work harder." Emir pinched her still-soft belly.
To beat that woman.
In her mind's eye, Seria Siegfried lingered by Morris's side, fawning over him like a vixen. She had no intention of letting him slip away so easily. For the first time in her life—a life untouched by anger—her heart blazed like wildfire.
"I'll take him back, no matter what."
Nelfi, the maid watching Emir burn with determination, let out a sigh. "It's good to see you full of energy, but... sigh."
After the broken engagement with House Dmitry, her lady had been listless. It was a relief to see her vitality return, but the direction it had taken was... off. There were so many fine men out there.
And she rejected them all.
All Nelfi wanted was for her lady to be happy.
"Nelfi, let's do a few more light laps, then grab some food."
As Emir steeled her resolve for more exercise, a voice called out.
"My lady."
It was the butler who served Duke Solarion.
"Oh? What brings you here, butler?"
"The duke wishes to dine with you."
"Father does? That's unusual."
"It might be related to your visit to House Dmitry."
"Got it. I'll head up on time."
Emir took the towel Nelfi offered and wiped her sweat as she returned to the mansion.
Clink, clink.
Emir sat alone at the table with her father, the head of House Solarion, Gaston Solarion. She watched him elegantly slice his meat from across the table. His bright golden hair and beard, along with skin so translucent it might have been maintained by magic—he looked no older than his late thirties. Yet Duke Solarion was sixty this year. Like the other masters, he had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, halting his aging.
With such a handsome patriarch, it was only natural his daughter Emir was a beauty.
The meal passed in silence, without a single word. House Solarion's dinners were always thus—no private talk until every plate was cleared. Only after Emir finished did he speak.
"You went to House Dmitry."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To restore the broken engagement as it should be."
"Did the minister accept?"
"No."
"He won't. Or rather, he can't."
"It can be restored."
"Even for political reasons?"
"Yes. I believe the heart that loves someone can overcome any hardship."
"Sigh."
Duke Solarion sighed as he gazed at Emir. She was beautiful. Not just as a father speaking—objectively, from any man's perspective, her beauty was perfection, blending the finest traits of himself and his wife. Countless men in the empire had fallen for her. How many proposals had she received?
Yet Emir stubbornly clung to her first match: Morris Dmitry of House Dmitry.
Whenever she spoke his name, her cheeks flushed, her lips curved faintly upward, and her eyes sparkled. How could he not see it? It was the face of someone in love.
She loved Morris Dmitry. She'd rejected a flood of proposals to marry him.
When House Dmitry had plummeted to ruin, it had been such a headache.
Morris Dmitry.
A mage house everyone thought doomed to extinction. Yet somehow, he'd risen as a key figure with the emperor's trust.
The neutral faction noble, they say.
The empire balanced on two main powers: the Imperial Faction centered on the current emperor, and the Noble Faction led by Duke Siegfried.
The central nobles under Siegfried had backed the emperor's younger brother, the Third Prince, over the current emperor. That sparked the civil war: the Prince's War.
The Imperial Faction had won, of course. But in a shocking move, the emperor spared Siegfried and the Noble leaders who'd drawn blades against him—a political signal of embrace.
Not everyone bought it. Lingering discontent fueled the current Noble Faction.
The Imperial Faction, meanwhile, centered on the regional lords the emperor had heavily promoted to win the war. Duke Solarion was one of them.
Then there were the neutrals—those not aligned with either side. "Neutral" sounded noble, but they were sidelined from the main contest: those who hadn't joined the Prince's War. Even united, their power was negligible.
Except one noble who officially stayed neutral even after participating: Morris Dmitry.
Morris's contributions had been pivotal to the emperor's victory in the Prince's War. Many believed defeat would have followed without him. That's why the emperor had forced him into the Minister of Magic seat.
To make him one of his own.
The Imperial Faction had talents too—like fire mage Cedric, elemental mage artisan Colonetu, or spatial magic pioneer Zelmon. They'd taken other posts, though.
For now, the Imperial Faction held a fragile edge. With the civil war's end and coronation just months past, tensions simmered in stalemate.
But civil war could erupt again anytime.
If it did, the emperor would strike first.
He's the type who wants war, after all.
A war to solidify absolute imperial power.
If Morris, tied to the neutral faction, married into the Imperial-allied House Solarion... No matter his intentions, the nobles would see it differently.
Not a bad move.
It could pull Noble Faction lords to the Imperial side without bloodshed.
Solarion watched his daughter passionately argue from across the table. Such a beautiful daughter—too precious to hand over.
The disturbing rumors about Morris Dmitry don't sit well, but some things can't be helped.
For the empire's future, imperial authority, and the house... sacrifices were necessary.
"Father canceled the engagement with House Dmitry for the family's sake, but I think differently. For the house's prosperity, now more than ever, I believe we should ally with Morris Dmitry..."
"Try it."
"Pardon?"
Emir blinked in surprise at the unexpected response.
"I said try it. If it's you, Emir, you can make that man yours."
"Uh..."
"Go ahead. As a daughter of House Solarion, you'll uphold your word that you can make the marriage happen."
Duke Solarion paused to catch his breath before continuing.
"Head to the Southern Imperial Academy."
"Pardon?"
"I hear the mana storm in the southern region hasn't subsided."
"You mean..."
"The minister will likely go south. He'll handle the issue, then head to the academy—as Minister of Magic."
"Ah."
"Meet him there, make it seem like coincidence. That's the extent of help I can offer."
"Thank you, Father."
Emir was grateful yet flustered. Her father wasn't one to permit such things lightly. She'd armed herself with arguments expecting rebuttal, only for this anticlimactic approval.
Does Father sense it too?
That no man in the empire matches Lord Morris.
"Father, I'll do my utmost."
"I'll trust you."
The father and daughter voiced agreement, their thoughts worlds apart.
"So?"
"Can you increase the budget?"
Cedric said. He'd brought a report requesting double the budget for combat mages next year.
"Vice Minister Cedric."
"Yes, Minister."
"What's the current cost for training combat mages?"
"As noted in the report, 12 percent of the Magic Department's education budget. That's far less than the 20 percent for support mages."
"It is low. But you know, there's a missing piece in those figures?"
I tapped the report Cedric had submitted.
"Your support mage training costs include the academy, but combat mages omit academy funding. Care to explain?"
"Combat mage training targets academy graduates, so I excluded it from the report."
"Fair enough. They need basic academy graduation for safe training. But shouldn't that apply to support mages too?"
"But, Minister."
"Subtract academy costs from total support mage training, and it's a mere 8 percent. More is actually invested in combat mages."
"To maintain national power and deter border enemies, we need absolute numbers of combat mages."
"I agree, but not now. The civil war ended recently. With standing army and knight orders already boosted, increasing Magic Department military spending would reignite public war fears. We'll maintain the status quo through next year. You're dismissed."
"...Understood."
Cedric retreated, face full of dissatisfaction.
Thud.
Only after the door closed and footsteps faded could I sigh.
"Hoo. Persistent bastard."
Cedric's intent was clear: expand combat mages and spark war immediately. As if I'd allow it. The time wasn't right.
"Troublesome. So troublesome."
I hadn't even resolved the Seria issue, and work kept piling up.
"You look extra worn out today," Mary Jane said with a beaming smile.
I studied her face closely for a moment. Sealed in the Magic Tower, she was one of the transcendent beings beyond humanity. Hoping for insight, I pulled out the glass flower.
"Jane, do you know what this is?"
"Oh, an elven treasure. Where'd you get this? Your relations with the elves aren't great."
"It grew from the world tree in my home."
"Ah, that explains the small size. But already blooming?"
"Can you analyze it?"
She peered intently at the glass flower.
"No. My ability isn't analysis—it's observation, as you know."
"Sigh. I've got a talentless subordinate."
"Eek, that's hurtful."
"Then, among transcendents, was there one with absorption abilities?"
"Hm..."
She rested her chin on her hand, eyes closed in thought.
"There was one."
"Who?"
"Epithet 'Blood-Mad Maniac,' I think? Totally unhinged. Kept ranting about some demonic arts he'd learned."
Remembering seemed to make her shudder.
"Why ask? Related to that flower?"
"Something like that."
"Can't say more. You know: causality."
I nodded. The myth was famous: the transcendents' war nearly ended the world, so the gods sealed them. Bound by causality, they couldn't leak excessive info or power.
That was all I knew.
Demonic arts in a fantasy world.
Not some wuxia crossover, surely? Absorption—that's what I focused on.
No more from Jane. Nothing came easy. I'd have to research it myself.
Need to collect Seria's hair and blood too. Lots to do.
With those, my first stop was clear: the Imperial Southern Academy lab. A reliable researcher lived there.
Come to think of it.
"What's the status on that mana storm in the imperial south?"
"Oh, that? I was about to report. It hasn't calmed."
"How long since it first appeared?"
"Five days."
"Five days."
Normally, momentum fades after three, vanishing naturally.
Still lingering meant...
"Artificially created storm, then."
"Yes. Culprit unidentified."
"I'll check it myself."
"You're going personally?"
"Kill two birds. Things to verify. Oh, casualties?"
"Hasn't hit the city yet, so none."
"But it might."
"Yes."
"Got it. I'll confirm the rest on-site."
I stored the glass flower in subspace and headed out.