Chapter 202
Chapter 202
"I heard you holed up in your quarters despite my suggestion to tour and enjoy the Empire. That's why I summoned you personally. So, how does it feel?"
Wouldn't it be easier for both of us if you just let me go?
But he couldn't voice his true thoughts aloud.
"I am deeply grateful for your excessive consideration, Your Majesty."
"Good. Seeing the wider world changes one's perspective."
"A bird trapped in a cage—no matter how much it sees of the world, how much more can it truly perceive? It only feels suffocating."
The sharpness in Logan's pointed reply drew icy glares from the emperor's entourage, but the emperor himself merely chuckled.
"If you look at it broadly, isn't the cage the Kingdom that binds you? If you're a bird yearning for the open sky, you should come to a wider world."
The emperor's gaze remained as amiable as ever.
"Why go to such lengths to keep me? Surely, among Your Majesty's subordinates, there are countless more talented than I."
"For now, perhaps. Even Leonard here, who stands behind me, is far stronger than that inexperienced Jerome—let alone you."
At the emperor's words, the middle-aged knight escorting him bowed his head slightly.
Logan sensed something odd in the emperor's response.
"But if we speak of future potential, no one surpasses you. Even Tris, hailed as the current strongest swordsman on the continent, was nowhere near your level at your age. You possess the greatest potential of anyone I've ever seen."
The lavish praise revealed the source of Logan's unease.
When Logan had mentioned "those more talented than I," he hadn't been referring solely to martial prowess but to all fields of talent. Yet the emperor's response focused exclusively on one criterion.
Transcendents. Personal martial strength. The emperor prioritizes combat prowess above all else when evaluating talent.
Only then did Logan truly believe the emperor had invited him for himself alone.
He has no interest in the weapons used in the Kingdom's civil war.
The realization brought a bitter smile to his lips.
For a fleeting moment, he glimpsed a crack in the emperor's overwhelming presence.
Even if it was just an illusion, the suffocating pressure weighing on his heart eased slightly.
"The future's strongest stands before me. How could I not covet such talent?"
Of course, his immediate priority was tempering the emperor's greed.
"The future is unpredictable, is it not? Just yesterday, Sir Jerome seemed brimming with endless potential."
"You praise the one you defeated? Hahaha, you grow more likable by the minute. With that mindset, you'll never grow complacent."
The emperor's infatuation (?) was more stubborn than expected.
"Your Majesty is going to such lengths..."
"What in the world..."
"How enviable..."
With every ear in the banquet hall fixed on their conversation, Logan reaffirmed his stance clearly for all to hear.
"Your Majesty. As I mentioned before, I am a true-blooded Grandian. I cannot turn my back on my homeland. Please understand this humble man's desire to protect his country."
"I'm not asking you to abandon your homeland. I'm asking you to come to me."
What kind of nonsense is this now?
Logan stifled his disbelief as the emperor continued with unparalleled arrogance.
"I am the sovereign of this world. Swearing loyalty to me is the same as serving your Kingdom."
It was an insufferably haughty statement—one that treated Grandia, which had never once submitted to the Empire despite numerous wars, as a mere vassal state.
What kind of sophistry...!
Rage flared in his chest, but voicing it would be suicidal. Suppressing his emotions, Logan replied calmly.
"I am but a man struggling to safeguard my own household. Your generous offer is more than I can accept."
Struggling to safeguard my own household.
That, at least, was half-true.
Yet—
"Do not belittle yourself. To my eyes, you alone are worth more than the entire Grandia Kingdom. My earlier words were no lie. Pledge your loyalty to me, and I will grant you authority surpassing even Grandia's king."
The emperor's appraisal was even more favorable than Logan had anticipated.
The nobles eavesdropping on their exchange gaped involuntarily.
"You alone are worth more than a Kingdom."
Who in the world could make such a claim—and make it sound convincing?
Dazed by the praise, Logan momentarily fell silent.
When he raised his head, the emperor's black eyes burned with unyielding determination—the gaze of a man who had never compromised in his life.
Would someone so obsessive about talent ever abandon conquest?
"If I surrender, he'll make me the vanguard to invade the Kingdom."
As he had deduced earlier, that would be the surest way to secure the promised territory and power.
Steeling his resolve, Logan met the emperor's gaze and answered firmly.
"I apologize, but my Kingdom and family are everything to me. I beg Your Majesty's understanding for my narrow-mindedness and ask that you withdraw your offer."
A chorus of stifled gasps rose around them.
The emperor chuckled.
"Very well. Take more time to consider. Once you've experienced more of the Empire's greatness, your mind may change."
His persistence was formidable.
"I will show this Grandian youth the wider world. Come, sit beside me."
The emperor's courtship grew more aggressive.
Clink.
"This wine clears the mind and purifies one's aura. A rare vintage—the imperial palace produces only a hundred bottles a year. For knights, it's akin to a tonic."
How could Logan refuse a cup poured by the emperor himself?
Though the envious stares of the standing knights weighed on him, he had no choice but to bow his head obediently.
"...I accept with gratitude."
From the bottle adorned with a golden dragon emblem, a faint mana—perceptible only to heightened senses—drifted forth.
An artifact wine bottle...
Logan stifled a disbelieving laugh at the absurd extravagance and downed the wine in one gulp.
He had never been fond of alcohol, so he intended to observe the emperor's reaction with an unaffected expression—
But the moment the wine touched his tongue, his eyes widened involuntarily.
An intoxicating aroma and sweetness flooded his mouth, and as it slid down his throat, a refreshing warmth spread through his body, melting away all tension.
The claim that it was a tonic for knights was no exaggeration.
"Hahaha. Here, try this as well. A delicacy the imperial palace prides itself on—made from the thigh of a northern wild reindeer. Prepared with an extraordinary recipe. I'm genuinely curious about your reaction."
The meat, sliced into bite-sized pieces and glazed with a brown sauce, exuded a fragrant aroma devoid of any gamey scent.
Given that it was the emperor's meal, Logan wasn't even surprised that the plate was an artifact.
What intrigued him more was the faint mana emanating from both the sauce and the meat.
Though the emperor hadn't mentioned it, the implication was clear.
Do they have mages dedicated to cooking?
What a terrifying waste of talent.
The first bite was so delicious it made his eyes widen further, and Logan couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
The emperor grinned at his reaction.
"Seeing the wider world doesn't mean grand spectacles. Look down there."
Following the emperor's gesture, Logan glanced below the high table—where countless imperial nobles stole glances at him and the emperor.
Among them were high-ranking nobles who wielded authority surpassing even Grandia's king, yet their eyes burned with undisguised envy.
"Imagine all this becoming your natural daily life. Everything depends on your choice."
A seat beside the emperor, savoring unimaginably exquisite food and wine while overlooking the nobility—
The emperor's words were undeniably tempting.
But they only sharpened Logan's focus.
Setting aside the grudges of his past life and the duties of this one—
A life lived solely according to the emperor's whims? And for me, of all people?
A dry laugh escaped him.
A fool who once vented his inadequacy through resentment toward his younger brother.
A madman who fought endlessly for twenty years, driven by the loss of his family and the denial of redemption.
And now—a reckless fool preparing to fight the Empire with the strength of a barely surviving household.
Depending on perspective, he might be seen differently, but to himself, he was someone who could never settle for comfort.
And the emperor's gilded cage didn't suit him.
Even if he forgot all the grudges and duties of both lifetimes.
With that conclusion, his mind settled.
Perhaps sensing the shift in his gaze, the emperor's eyes narrowed—
Just then, a hoarse voice rose from below the high table.
"Your Majesty, may I have a word?"
Turning, Logan saw an elderly nobleman with a kindly face, white beard, and full head of silver hair.
"Hm? Duke Trevis, what is it?"
"I've heard an intriguing tale regarding the Grandia Kingdom—one I believe might interest Your Majesty. I wished to share it cautiously."
"Grandia? Oh? Go on, then."
As the emperor's gaze briefly flickered to Logan, the old duke met Logan's eyes with a meaningful look.
"Rumors of Sir Logan MacLaine, the hero who ended Grandia's civil war, occasionally reach even the imperial capital. But among them is a rather peculiar story."
"Peculiar?"
"Yes. They say Sir Logan devised unprecedented weapons to quell the civil war."
"...Weapons?"
The emperor's frown deepened, prompting the duke to hastily continue.
"These weapons are said to be so remarkable that they could greatly benefit the Empire as well."
"And your point?"
"...I thought it worth discussing with Sir Logan about introducing them to the Empire."
As the emperor's gaze turned icy, cold sweat beaded on the duke's aged face.
"Ruining the taste of my wine..."
The emperor set his cup down with a thud, and the duke paled.
"Daring to propose a deal in front of my guest?"
"F-Forgive me, Your Majesty! This lowly one was blinded by thoughts of merit..."
Tsk.
"I understand wanting to serve the nation. For that, I'll overlook this discourtesy once. But do not show your face before me today."
The emperor cut him off with a click of his tongue.
For Logan, the duke's disappearance was a relief—but it also underscored the emperor's overwhelming authority, capable of reducing even a duke to such a state.
"My apologies for the unnecessary interruption. Logan MacLaine, enjoy yourself. Indulge in what you can, and afterward, I wish to hear your impressions."
"Your Majesty, the Empire's greatness is already evident even in my limited experience. However, that doesn't mean I intend to pledge myself—"
"Hahaha. No need to rush. The festival has only begun. Take your time enjoying the Empire, and we'll speak again later."
The emperor cut him off with a knowing smile.
"Just remember this: no matter how exceptional your talent, it only gains meaning when honed through clashes with those who shine just as brightly in a far greater world."
Raising a radiantly glowing cup, the emperor poured its contents into the largest chalice—one resembling a ceremonial bowl.
"The larger the vessel, the more it can hold. Reflect deeply on whether rotting your talent in a small kingdom truly serves your own interests. Once you realize its worth, the path will be clear."
In those words, Logan saw the fundamental difference between their perspectives.
A man who saw only himself.
The limits hidden beneath the emperor's overwhelming presence and grandeur.
He didn't know how much this realization would aid him in the future, but at the very least, it lessened the emperor's colossal shadow looming over his heart.
"Thank you for your deep interest, Your Majesty."
And with the emperor's overflowing pride, Logan suspected he wouldn't be physically restrained even if he left after the festival.
Though the lingering unease remained unavoidable.