393. Dawn (2)
393. Dawn (2)
- 1 -
There were only four nations in this world that used the title "Emperor" for their ruler.
Of them, three—the Han Empire, the Shin Empire, and the Hwa Empire—lay far across the sea on the distant Western Continent.
On the Eastern Continent, there was only one. Norn alone used that name.
Lately, however, that "sole empire" had been unable to project the majesty befitting its name.
"Eu... Heu-eu..."
The heart of the empire, the imperial bedchamber.
Unlike its usual state, the space was invaded by a thick, heavy air that stung the nostrils with the smell of medicinal herbs and stale dust.
The once-resplendent gilding had lost its luster and faded to a dull yellow, and the ceiling paintings and carvings had grown dark, as if hiding themselves in gloomy shadows.
At the center of that atmosphere lay an old man atop a luxurious silk blanket.
His name, as he labored through breaths so weak they seemed ready to snap at any moment, was Maximilian Sen Norhuan II.
In his youth, he had continued the conquest policies of his father and grandfather, and even into his eighties, he had been the "Red Griffin" who had led the empire with vigor.
He was dying.
"Father..."
Beside the bed, a man bowed his head deeply, clutching the emperor's wrinkled hand tightly.
His features were a perfect likeness—if one were to reverse time on the old man's face, this visage would emerge.
His shoulders trembled faintly.
Seen from behind, it would have looked like the heartbroken wailing of a son facing his father's final moments.
But it was not so.
'Heh, heheh...'
Eldgrim was desperately suppressing the laughter that had risen to his throat.
So much so that his body shook from the strain of biting his lip.
'At last, this moment has...!'
A clear rapture had surfaced on his face, hidden against the silk blanket.
Every time he heard the sound of his father's weakening breath, the corner of his mouth twitched faintly up and down in a repeated cycle.
This was not the face of a son witnessing his father's death, nor the face of a citizen meeting the end of his nation's father.
It was the face of an ambitious man eyeing the throne.
[... Is that really true?]
[Yes, yes... Your Highness. His Majesty will live a very long life...]
The imperial physician had predicted the emperor's life expectancy at 145 years, with cognitive decline expected around the age of 110.
This was because the emperor possessed every kind of elixir gathered from across the continent, as well as mana that had elevated his realm, even though he had never learned martial arts or magic.
From the moment he heard those words, Eldgrim had abandoned his impatience.
[What could those young whelps possibly do.]
[That is correct, Your Highness!]
There were few competitors anyway. The imperial household had been short on heirs.
The few siblings he had were all born of the second empress or other imperial consorts, and they were twenty years younger than him.
If he, who had secured legitimacy, did not fall behind in ability, the throne was naturally his.
Thus, he had steadied his heart, honed his abilities, and bided his time.
But then...
'I'll inherit the throne a good thirty years earlier than expected.'
Even though he was the eldest son the emperor had gained late in life, his own age was already in his mid-forties.
Yet the emperor still sat on the throne.
As if he wanted to remain in power until he himself grew old and died, or perhaps even...
'Forever.'
As originally planned, he would have become emperor at age 70.
An age where one would grow old without ever tasting true power.
There could be no avoiding discontent.
But what luck was this?
That arrogant Union, and the foolish Holy Kingdom that had declared them heretics.
Thanks to them, his own era had been pushed forward by a great margin.
Of course, the cost was great.
Hilsa had to be given the northern Delionel County, Orbis the northwestern Ereltelwen March, and whole territories.
Within the empire, seeds of rebellion had sprouted.
And Aririt had slipped away into the arms of the Union.
'Still, it's all fine.'
If the emperor had any sense, he would take all this responsibility with him to the grave under the name of "the previous regime's folly" before he died.
Things like the hardline policy of "never permitting independence."
'The territories held by those two independence forces are still our land anyway. Even if the Union supports them, they won't directly mobilize military force.'
Eldgrim believed he had seen through the Union's intentions.
Supporting Previlia and Ruaret was merely a stepping stone to pressure the Holy Kingdom.
'That's something I can simply help them with.'
The empire could use this situation to stand on the Union's side.
Turning crisis into opportunity.
By his own hand, he would restore the great Norn to glory.
It would not be the stature of a "conquering nation" as in the past, but even that was fine.
'They are a Union.'
Union states inevitably collapsed from conflicts among successors as they passed to the second and third generations.
Had the powerful Zenota United Kingdom not nearly collapsed from civil war in just that way?
In contrast, the empire was a thoroughly centralized system.
If he could just manage his younger siblings well, his power would be passed down through generations.
"Father..."
The crown prince reached out and gently stroked the emperor's face.
His voice sounded like that of a deeply filial son, worrying for his father with the utmost devotion.
A father, dearly fond of his son, would surely, definitely, gather his last strength before death... and awaken.
"Your Highness. She has arrived."
Because the saintess, who would perform a miracle, had already come to this place.
"Escort her in at once."
Eldgrim forcefully pressed down the corners of his mouth.
His era would come.
If not through him, then through his children.
For that approaching era, he had to play his role splendidly right now.
'My father was called the "Griffin with Sharp Claws." I will become the "Far-Seer."'
But Eldgrim did not know.
That everything he believed he held in his grasp was, in truth, like a sandcastle.
That just because the father had been called the "Griffin," it did not mean the son became a griffin in his entirety.
And that the appearance of the "Union" he was attempting to exploit with his shallow tricks...
Was nothing more than a mask.
- 2 -
Changes were occurring not only in the south, but also in the north.
While a generational shift was taking place in the heart of the Norn Empire, the positions of strong and weak nations were being reversed in the north.
At the central plaza of Ulfsehir, the capital of the Uland Kingdom.
"—In honor of the aforementioned achievements, I bestow the title of Marquis Feriyad upon the great warrior Jarax."
The Queen of Uland, Riselotte sen Yail Ulfsehir Sailosia Haulan.
With her small frame, she lightly rested the royal scepter upon the shoulder of the gigantic lizardman warrior kneeling before her.
"It is my honor, Your Majesty!"
Jarax shouted in a booming voice.
As he turned to face the crowd, an explosive cheer erupted from the people filling the plaza.
Acclamations rushed in like waves, alongside the applause of citizens leaning out of every window.
The entire city was immersed in vitality.
"Congratulations, Lord Marquis!"
"Long live Her Majesty the Queen!!"
The act of bestowing a title upon a non-human being.
This was a first for the north, where battles against demon tribes, demon beasts, and barbarians had never ceased, even in the days before the Demon Realm Archdukes.
And what was more, it was the high rank of Marquis, no less.
Yet there was not a single noble or commoner who voiced opposition.
The sight of the queen who had become a hero granting a fitting reward to the foremost contributor who had helped make her a hero.
In their eyes, this spectacle was like a scene from an epic heroic saga.
"People of the nation!"
As Riselotte slowly raised the hand holding the scepter, the plaza fell into a crucible of fervor once more.
"At last! We have driven those wicked barbarians of Whiscliffe completely back to the north! No longer must you suffer their plundering!"
In the past, the reason Uland had been helpless against those barbarians' attacks was the rugged mountain range that pierced the border.
The barbarians had been under the protection of two Demon Realm Archdukes.
That power manifested as a trait that prevented attacks from wild demon beasts, and using that power, they could freely cross the mountain range.
Nine times out of ten, when word of the raiders' attack arrived and one gave chase, the search would end empty-handed as they vanished into the mountains.
But now, there was no need for that.
"Our Uland now possesses a powerful force that will guard that mountain range like an iron fortress! They are our new heroes... the 'Ains'!"
'Ain'.
A new term created for demonic beasts possessing intelligence sufficient to mingle in human society, and the will to suppress hostile instincts.
This designation, which had started in the Union, was rapidly spreading across the entire continent.
By nations that, emulating the Union, sought to accept those who had lived in hiding as members of society.
However, compared to its pioneer, the Union, most were still at a stage of experiencing many growing pains.
But Uland had gained an immense stroke of luck.
It had seized the opportunity to ride on the back of the great beast known as the "Grakheisen Union," which was already far ahead.
"Marquis Jarax Feriyad has since led all the 'Ains' hiding in our own nation, Kakia, and Whiscliffe into our military forces."
Jarax's mercenary corps had been growing steadily since being dispatched from the Union.
Just counting their numbers, they had reached a level rivaling the original regular army.
Their role, too, was no different from that of Uland's regular forces.
One might have expected logistical problems with the suddenly expanded military, but there was no such worry.
Because the Ains were not only strong soldiers but also excellent workers, each capable of doing the work of several men.
They had set up their own Ranches and fish farms in the mountains and seas that had been a headache for Uland, supplying their own food, which had nearly eliminated the national burden on Uland.
"Our Ain compatriots strive thus to be part of our society! Therefore, I proclaim this day, at this very place!"
Riselotte clenched the hand not holding the scepter into a fist, and raising it high, she shouted.
"In our Uland, all Ains are no different from Humans! We shall treat one another as equals! And at last, I announce that we have joined together with the Grakheisen Union!"
Along with the declaration, she extended the hand she had raised in this direction.
I could feel the eyes of the crowd turning toward us all at once.
As we began to walk forward, murmuring spread among the crowd.
"Lady Sonia has come again...!"
"Please, look this way! Lady Sonia!!"
"But who is that person in front of her...?"
"You fool! Isn't that Lady Sonia's teacher, Her Grace, Archduke Philia Elskopf!"
"Ohhh...! The beauty of the Union, they said!"
The voices welcoming Sonia were, as expected, the loudest.
It was a sight that showed her heroic fame had not yet faded.
"As expected of my disciple."
At my praise, Sonia's cheeks flushed slightly as she answered.
"Teacher, really..."
I ascended the platform where Riselotte stood, lightly embraced her, and then, taking her hand, stepped forward before the crowd.
"Citizens of Uland, greetings."
My voice resonated throughout the entire plaza.
"I am Philia sen Hairasch Elscope. I have come here as the Chancellor of the Grakheisen Union."
All gazes converged on me.
From children to the elderly, from nobles to commoners.
In their eyes, curiosity and awe, respect and goodwill were intermixed.
"Today, here, I vow the eternal friendship between the Union and Uland, and we hope to usher in the dawn of a new era together."
Everyone listened intently to the voice that seeped through the space, which had fallen as silent as if holding its breath.
"Together, we shall join strength and bring true peace to this continent. We shall create a world where we no longer hate one another simply because our races differ, or our beliefs differ."
"Long live Uland!"
"Long live Her Majesty the Queen!!"
"Long live Her Grace, Archduke Philia!"
Deafening cheers filled the plaza.
I smiled and raised my hand.
The sunlight, breaking through the clouds, dyed the entire plaza gold, announcing the prelude of a new era.
The shouts of acclamation soared as if to pierce the heavens.
As if they would echo all the way to the distant Holy Kingdom.
- 3 -
The populace was wholly immersed in joy. Ains—no, demon beasts—were mingled among the people.
Watching that scene, there was one who fell into an even deeper fury.
The Holy Kingdom.
Within a dark prayer room, a curse-laden voice leaked from the mouth of an old man observing the spectacle of Uland reflected in a crystal ball.
"...Philia Elskopf..."
His eyes were red and bloodshot, veins bulging.
A metallic, fishy smell rose from his own mouth from biting his teeth too hard, but he could not even feel it.
All that filled that place.
Was hatred toward Libertas, and despair at his own powerlessness.