Chapter 198
Chapter 198
"You may rest in this Star Palace."
"When may I have an audience with His Majesty?"
"Since His Majesty personally invited you, I believe it won't be long before you are summoned."
......Even accounting for slight regional variations in common speech, the phrase "won't be long" couldn't possibly mean an entire week.
Seven days had passed since entering the imperial palace.
The expressions of Logan and his party, who had been dining on exquisite delicacies within the lavish Star Palace, were stiff—hardly the look of honored guests.
"How much longer do you think we'll have to stay here?"
Luther Kyle, who had stacked plates as towering as his own massive frame, growled.
The attendant serving them instinctively took a step back, but Logan merely sighed in response.
"How should I know?"
"So, you haven't been told anything either."
"That's correct."
Though he answered nonchalantly, Logan couldn't help but grow increasingly restless.
He knew this was part of the imperial court's custom—to wear down the spirit of a warrior before an audience.
'I shouldn't be wasting time like this.'
Since entering the palace, he had been completely cut off from news of the outside world.
Even though he had anticipated it, the unease only grew with each passing day.
'It's only been a week. Just a week. No need to be impatient.'
There was no war breaking out in that time, nor would his family or kingdom collapse.
He tried to console himself, but emotions rarely obeyed reason.
'I must have some kind of obsession.'
Recognizing that this restlessness was abnormal, he forced himself to steady his mind—at least enough to pretend everything was fine.
"Let's wait just a little longer. It shouldn't take much longer now."
It was merely a hopeful assumption based on common sense, nothing more.
Fortunately, those words became reality that very afternoon.
"His Majesty has summoned his guests. Ah—only Sir Logan and Sir Luther are granted an audience. The others must remain in the Star Palace."
Upon receiving the chamberlain's message, Logan donned the ceremonial robes prepared by the palace attendants and headed toward the Main Palace.
The ceiling, towering even above Luther Kyle—known as the Half-Giant—was adorned with dazzling murals of unimaginable craftsmanship. Lowering his gaze slightly, Logan saw pillars of unknown material, intricately carved, supporting the impossibly high ceiling.
Every pillar, floor, and wall along the path to the Grand Hall seemed determined to outshine the next in splendor—a palace fit to be called a work of art itself.
Yet, the chamberlain guiding them led them not deeper into the palace but outside.
"Didn't you say His Majesty the Emperor was waiting for us?"
"Yes. Today, His Majesty has summoned all officials not in the Grand Hall but in the courtyard before the Main Palace. We are heading there now."
"The palace courtyard?"
As Luther Kyle tilted his head in confusion, the chamberlain added,
"It is a space typically reserved for grand imperial ceremonies. Consider it a mark of His Majesty's hospitality toward you both."
A stark contrast to Grandia's custom, where hosts received guests indoors.
Nodding at the unfamiliar practice, Logan silently followed the chamberlain.
They had to pass through three gates just to circle the inner palace grounds and reach the entrance of the Main Palace.
"Guests from the Grandia Kingdom are entering!"
—Hail His Majesty!
As the knights swung open the third and final gate, a colossal palace resembling a golden dragon crouching in wait came into view.
The soaring spires were its head, while the sweeping eaves and gilded ornaments formed its body and scales—an architectural masterpiece that seemed alive.
"Whoa......!"
Even Luther Kyle, who had repeatedly reminded himself to stay composed, couldn't suppress his gasp of awe.
In the vast courtyard before the palace, knights stood in tight formation, their stern presence palpable even from a distance. Between their ranks, imperial officials stood motionless in perfect rows.
At the end of the central path leading through them—beneath the coiled belly of the dragon arching over the palace entrance—sat a massive throne adorned with golden dragons.
Even from two or three hundred meters away, the presence of the figure seated there dominated the surroundings, erasing all else from view.
Black hair, a sharply defined face, golden skin unique to the imperial bloodline—the middle-aged man of towering stature lounged lazily against one armrest, gazing down from the dais.
His face brimmed with intense curiosity, but most arresting were his pitch-black eyes, flashing with an eerie light that locked onto Logan's gaze and refused to let go.
'......What?'
Before he could ponder what it meant, Logan's head tilted in confusion at the sensation of eyes meeting across such a distance.
'No way.......'
At this range, an ordinary person wouldn't even discern facial features.
Only someone like him could scrutinize expressions so clearly—yet it felt like their eyes had met?
But the moment he thought it, the Emperor smirked.
As if confirming it wasn't an illusion, the Emperor straightened and beckoned him forward.
"Come closer, young hero of Grandia."
A voice imbued with subtle power pierced Logan's ears as if spoken right beside him.
The strange sensation made his chest tighten, jolting him to full alertness.
'Magic......? No, presence? What is this?'
But there was no time to dwell on it.
Despite Luther Kyle's hulking frame beside him—impossible to ignore—the Emperor's gaze was fixed solely on Logan.
Under the weight of countless eyes, he had no choice but to step forward.
Even Luther Kyle, for once, could only trail closely behind Logan as he slowly advanced toward the throne.
"What's with that giant?"
"He doesn't look young."
"It must be the young man in front."
"The one in front doesn't stand out much."
"But His Majesty must have a reason..."
"Where is Grandia again?"
The murmurs of the crowd reached Logan's ears, but his eyes remained locked on the Emperor ahead.
'Why? Why am I drawn to him?'
The reason his gaze was pulled toward the Emperor—
He had no time to think about it.
Perhaps because he stared too long.
'Huh?!'
Suddenly, a crushing pressure snapped him out of his thoughts.
Whoosh.
Only when his heart's Force Core surged forth, pushing back against the pressure, did Logan realize he had stepped within fifty meters of the throne.
And the oppressive force came not from the Emperor—but from the ten knights flanking him.
The realization struck him like a thunderbolt.
'All of them—Transcendents?!'
Creak.
From then on, each step became a struggle.
The pressure bearing down on him drowned out even Luther Kyle's presence behind him, let alone the murmurs of the crowd.
—Stop at the shallow depression thirty meters before the throne and bow.
The remaining ten meters felt endless under such pressure.
Clench.
Fortunately, with each step, the weight gradually lessened.
Forcing Logan to feel such pressure from a distance wasn't easy even for Transcendents—evidently, the weaker ones had already withdrawn their presence.
Yet even after reaching the thirty-meter mark, five distinct pressures still coiled around him.
Meaning—
'At least five Transcendents on par with my master. Damn it.'
A dizzying realization he didn't want to accept.
The psychological weight pressed down on his soul harder than the physical force.
'The gap is this vast.......'
His confidence in his preparations evaporated, replaced by gnawing anxiety.
Ten Transcendents in the imperial court alone. Add to that the seven Tower Lords leading Acerian's Five Great Towers—undoubtedly archmages.
Then the commanders of the Western Eight Legions and Eastern Seven Legions—assuming all were Transcendents, that made thirty-two by simple calculation.
And how many more hidden powerhouses existed beyond that?
The sheer scale was staggering.
Facing the numbers he had only known in theory planted a seed of deep dread in his heart.
'How am I supposed to overcome this? How?'
All his meticulous preparations suddenly felt woefully inadequate.
But perhaps he dwelled on it too long.
"Such insolence!"
One of the Transcendents—a youthful face Logan vaguely recognized—barked sharply.
Snapping back to attention, Logan immediately dropped to one knee.
"I am honored by your summons. Logan of Grandia greets the ruler of the Empire."
Luther Kyle mirrored the gesture behind him, but the Emperor's gaze remained fixed solely on Logan.
After a glance at the nodding knights beside him, the Emperor smiled broadly.
"Well met, Logan MacLaine. I've heard much about you. Seeing you in person, you exceed even those tales."
"......You honor me, Your Majesty."
Whatever the Emperor's intent, the praise instantly shifted the atmosphere.
"His Majesty praising him like that...?"
"Who is he?"
"Grandia—that small eastern kingdom?"
Whispers rippled through the crowd, finally reaching Logan's ears.
"No, truly—you surpass the rumors. The Slayer, an Aura User who slew a Transcendent. Your reputation is well-earned, as I've just confirmed."
So it was a test after all.
Though displeased, Logan couldn't show it.
Taking solace in having glimpsed a fraction of the Empire's Transcendent forces, he replied calmly.
"You flatter me, Your Majesty. I was merely fortunate."
"Oh? Well, we'll see about that. Jerome!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
At the Emperor's call, the youngest-looking Transcendent—the one who had shouted earlier—knelt instantly.
That unfamiliar face and the name clicked in Logan's mind.
'Jerome? Jerome Dicaid?!'
His expression stiffened involuntarily.
Unaware of Logan's turmoil, the Emperor continued cheerfully.
"Cross blades with Grandia's young hero. I wish to see for myself whether our Empire's Divine Saint or Grandia's champion is superior."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Summoning a foreign guest only to demand a duel without consulting his wishes—
'So this is why he prepared such a stage.'
This had been the plan all along.
Absurd as it was, no one dared protest.
Except one.
"Your Majesty. Sir Logan represents our kingdom in seeking your audience. To suddenly impose such a challenge goes against diplomatic custom—"
Luther Kyle, uncharacteristically eloquent, was cut off by the Emperor's chuckle.
"Hmm? I invited Logan MacLaine as an individual, not an envoy. What room is there for custom here? Luther Kyle, Transcendent of Grandia—do you oppose my will?"
The moment Luther's face hardened—
Logan rose to his feet.
"If it is Your Majesty's wish, I must comply. But I trust you will not blame me should misfortune occur."
His eyes, fixed unflinchingly on the Emperor, burned with fighting spirit.
Jerome's brow furrowed at the sight.
Suddenly, the Emperor burst into laughter.
"Misfortune? Pahaha! Are you serious? This is truly entertaining! Young foreign talent—I merely wished for you both to test each other's limits. Did you truly intend to fight in earnest?"
Logan faltered momentarily but soon nodded firmly.
"If we are to spar, would it not be better for Your Majesty to see our full strength?"
The Emperor roared with laughter again.
After a long while, his mirth subsided in the silent hall. He gazed down at the loyal knight kneeling before him.
"Grandia's young hero seems confident in victory. Jerome, what say you?"
"None but the Empire's masters can best me. Some unknown talent from a backwater kingdom is beneath my notice."
His tone brimmed with arrogance.
At just thirty years old, Jerome Dicaid—the Empire's Divine Saint—had been a Transcendent for three years. His eyes burned with the same fighting spirit as Logan's.
'Jerome Dicaid.......'
Now called the Divine Saint, but twenty years later, he would bear a different title.
The Continent's Strongest Swordsman.
The mightiest Aura User on the continent—and to the Grandia Liberation Front, the Reaper.
Their greatest enemy.
This was why Logan had responded so aggressively.
By his transcendent senses, Jerome still seemed far less polished than the others.
Meaning his chances were solid.
'At the very least, I can inflict wounds that will never fully heal.'
A chance to cripple a future nemesis—
Or to thin the ranks of the Empire's current Transcendents.
The Emperor's whim had created an opportunity Logan couldn't ignore.