The Grand Banquet (1)
The Bellos Empire has always operated on a simple principle when it comes to foreign spy units: kill them on sight. No taking prisoners for negotiations, no pretending not to notice. Discovery means immediate execution—no questions asked.
But lately, that policy has shifted. To be precise, the empire's been short on manpower to hunt down those spies in the first place.
"Heard the empire's been carving out chunks of its own flesh lately."
"Makes sense they'd be shorthanded. Holes are bound to open up."
"If we want to scout the empire's movements, now's our only shot."
A rare chance to dance on the shoulders of a giant. No one wanted to miss it, so every nation dispatched their spy units. And in that incredibly brief window, they pulled out some prime intel.
"The Eastern Grand Duke and Northern Grand Duke are dead?"
"Some say they can't hold the northern front anymore."
"The empire's definitely weakened now."
"They cut too deep, even if it had to be done. It's a massive wound."
The empire has weakened! The news spread like wildfire—short, shocking, and straight to the point. Experts pegged their recovery at about five years minimum, and even that would require a miracle or two.
"How long's it been since the empire showed this much vulnerability?"
"Do we finally not have to tiptoe around them anymore?"
"But who pulled off something this huge? The crown prince did it alone?"
"That part's muddled. No way he could've done it solo."
"The bit about that weakling changing his tune... hard to buy."
"Spies grab whatever they can, so some confusion's inevitable."
The empire—once untouchable in raw power—was now writhing in agony? With intel like that floating around...
"Proselytizing, huh... Faith shines brightest in tough times."
Even the Lomper Holy Kingdom, on their way to claim reparations, started talking conversion. They trembled at past glories while eyeing the empire's current frailty, unsure how to play it.
But an empire was still an empire. Everyone knew that power too well—no one could act on this intel just yet.
"The empire weakening doesn't make us stronger."
"Still, if we build our strength now, we might stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them."
"Analysis says it'll take five years..."
"Why not secretly back the northern barbarians? That way..."
If recovery would take time, they could scheme in the interim. Kingdoms in the know started brainstorming.
And right on cue...
"Wh-what? Armed with swords...?"
"Bite your tongue if you've got complaints."
Empire envoys arrived, swords at their hips. A reminder: even wounded, the beast was still a beast.
Skipping all protocol, these armed emissaries delivered the empire's will with casual confidence.
"The empire's had a string of joyous events lately. To celebrate, we're hosting a banquet..."
The kings receiving this were stunned. Spy reports said it was a bloody purge.
Calling it "joyous" and inviting everyone to celebrate? No normal mind would frame it that way.
"...Hah."
Go or not? Deep down, no one wanted to. The empire was weakened—did they really have to?
Just showing up because they were summoned? Might as well be a vassal state.
In the old days, they wouldn't have hesitated. Hell, they'd have packed lavish gifts to congratulate them.
But now?
"The crown prince's sudden shift in behavior is what's bothering me."
"Would a kind-hearted crown prince get offended if we refused?"
"He led the purge himself. He's changed. We need to accept that."
"It's probably temporary. Maybe he's throwing the banquet to cover it up."
Ambiguous. Their bodies screamed "go," but their minds yelled it was time to defy the empire.
How long could the empire remain the empire? No eternity lasted forever.
Maybe this could be the start of its collapse.
"Very possible. But... if it doesn't fall? A empire that's excised its rot—how high could it soar?"
The debate over attending raged on.
"No, why... why did it turn out like this all of a sudden?"
Mirne of the Maselin Kingdom was reeling from the shock. Nothing like this appeared in the story she'd read.
Come to think of it, losing Silpiner was the first red flag. Why had the crown prince suddenly turned aggressive?
Some buildup glitch?
'The Eastern Grand Duke showing up with his cultivation crippled was shock enough.'
And now, not long after, the Northern Grand Duke was dead too.
"Where's a male lead dropping dead out of nowhere like this? The Northern Grand Duke, no less."
The north's duke was a symbol of might—arguably the world's strongest.
For him to die mid-story, before the academy arc even kicked off? The academy was when college life ramped up, reverse harem with the male leads began, and real threats emerged.
That hadn't started, and already characters were swapping out? Too weird.
"The crown prince has changed—way too strangely."
The empire wasn't showering Maselin—or her—with gifts anymore. They were ripping them away, and she couldn't refuse.
Especially with solid evidence of northern rebellion. Maselin's dispatched talents were tied to those rebels.
The suspicion of complicity was inescapable. They had to grovel.
Declining the banquet invite? Impossible.
No, it was a golden opportunity.
'I need to gauge the new crown prince.'
Did he grasp how dangerous his actions were? If the plot tangled like this, how would he handle the fallout?
He couldn't cause more chaos until she sealed her spirit king contract, at least.
'Dizzying... way too dizzying...'
Seducing him wasn't an option either.
The Crown Prince is not a targetable character.
"Tch."
The crown prince was never on her target list to begin with.
"Out of all the targetable ones, suddenly the Northern Grand Warrior..."
Mirne regretted the crown prince not being targetable. If he were, she'd know his preferences—from favorite symbols to ideal conversation topics.
'Guess I'll have to meet him in person.'
Besides, even without that, she had to go to clear the rebellion suspicions. Laden with heaps of gifts, no less.
Thus, Mirne and countless kingdoms finalized their stances on the imperial banquet.
"Everyone's attending. Perfect."
Hearing this, the crown prince grinned broadly.
Anyone could tell the empire was shaken. The Empire Status Window showed everything but administration and corruption scraping the bottom.
No denying they'd lost their old prestige.
'But showing weakness now would be idiotic.'
On the contrary, they needed to project even greater strength.
And provide some entertainment to soothe the people's anxiety.
"Time for a martial tournament. Plenty of swordmaster spots open... perfect for recruiting northern reinforcements..."
Give the masses a spectacle. Promise participants wealth and glory. Fill the northern gaps.
'In the end, everything boils down to money.'
Even this grand banquet cost a fortune. If only they'd skimped less on those damn fidget spinners for Maselin from the north and east...
'If we had some addictive trinket of our own to peddle around...'
Such thoughts aside.
"The northern front's got a huge gap. Northerners are panicking, morale's in the dumps."
"Yes, but it's temporary..."
"That's exactly when leaders step up."
While banquet prep was underway, I'd decided to bolster the north briefly.
Officially, to witness the northerners' suffering firsthand.
Real reason?
'Now with monsters and barbarians added, I need to gauge the threat level properly.'
Precise force assessment.