Tea with the Old Fox
"I shall see to it that you live in comfort here in the Empire."
"Heh heh, surely you didn't imagine testing you was the purpose of this visit? I invited the prince for no other reason than to deepen the bond of friendship between our imperial house and the Dragonian royal family."
The Emperor, who had been swallowing dryly and struggling to calm the panic churning inside him, burst into hearty laughter.
A hollow laugh, empty all the way through to its core.
When I went on staring at him in silence, he hurriedly added, "What just happened was merely a small arrangement—our Swordmaster wished to feel your power for himself. Duke Hailon is so consumed by competitive pride that whenever he beholds a man of your greatness, he simply must verify where he stands. Please, do not take it as anything more than that."
The Emperor spun out his excuses from a thoroughly lowered stance.
He had pulled the dirty trick of shoving me back with a defensive item, but he truly had no intention of making an enemy of me. At his swift change of posture, I gave a nod.
Truthfully, being pranked like this didn't make me particularly angry. Whatever the other person did, so long as they were willing to engage with me at all, everything looked like fun. After all, I struggled enough just finding someone who could keep their wits about them in front of me.
"Still, I can hardly let such rudeness toward you slide by, can I? Won't you accept the gift we prepared as a token of apology?"
"A gift?"
"I heard from the royal court of Draikna that you required an item to control your magic. As it happens, we had a fine piece on hand, and I had it prepared specially for you."
At the Emperor's gesture, a waiting knight promptly brought forth a golden chest. When the lid opened, a single enchant scroll wrapped in velvet lay inside.
"It is an item that absorbs the wearer's magic and serves as protective armor in their stead. Ordinarily it functions as a rechargeable device, drawing on a mana mechanism to shield the body—but for one whose magic runs as high as yours, simply wearing it will grant automatic protection."
So the thing would drink in the magic constantly leaking from my body all on its own, and turn it into a shield for me?
The Emperor walked me through the item's effects in careful detail. He had, he said, rummaged through the imperial treasury just to bring it out for me. Not quite a mythic-grade treasure, he admitted, but one worthy of the legendary tier.
"The moment you infuse the enchant scroll with mana, the item will awaken. Heh heh. It is a rare treasure that changes its form according to its master's will, so use it as you please."
Armor, clothing, protective gear—its shape could become whatever its master envisioned, apparently. Having been told how to use it, I accepted the enchant scroll. I would have to test whether it actually worked, later on.
"With Duke Hailon's blunder, the mood has grown rather unsettled. I believe we ought to change our setting. Allow me to guide you to a quieter parlor, where I may offer you a cup of tea."
Wearing a kindly smile, he led me not to the audience hall but to a parlor instead. He had originally planned to receive me from his throne, but his thinking seemed to have changed entirely; his manner was now positively genial.
Like an old fox, this one.
That was what I thought as I watched the Emperor. He feared me just as much as any other human, yet he concealed it as best he could. Even after the humiliation of stepping down from his own throne, he answered with hearty laughter as though nothing were wrong. Cool judgment and quicker reflexes. The power he commanded was nothing extraordinary, but the man fairly radiated seasoned cunning.
"…"
Once the Emperor departed for the parlor with his escort knights, Duke Hailon silently fell in behind him. Since I had accepted the gift as an apology, I turned my gaze away and let them lead the way, taking my time to admire the imperial palace as we went.
The parlor.
I sat across from the Emperor at a long, broad table. I couldn't imagine where they had dug the thing up, but even seated at opposite ends, the Emperor and I remained a good five meters apart. His complexion vastly more settled than it had been in the audience hall, he took tea with me while Duke Hailon and the Imperial Guard knights stood at his back, guarding him like a fortress.
"Now that I have beheld the Prince of Draikna with my own eyes, the questions I have carried all this while have melted clean away. You truly carry an intensity of spirit that no ordinary man could withstand. The King of Draikna must have been overjoyed when he looked upon you."
The Emperor kept the conversation rolling merrily enough, but this was hardly a comfortable gathering. He was still avoiding my eyes—how pleasant could the talk really be? Watching someone perform cheerfulness they didn't feel was an ordeal for me as well. The one who could hold out against me longest here was probably Duke Hailon, the Swordmaster. For the sake of his dignity the Emperor chattered on earnestly, but his soulless words just drifted through the air, hollow.
This was exactly why I wanted to make friends. Conversations held while everyone ignores what they actually think aren't much fun. I gave the Emperor's patter an occasional nod and waited for him to reach the point.
"I heard it from your dean. You applied to our Imperial Academy this time in order to mingle with other races of your own age."
"That is so. With so many races able to come together in peace and learn side by side, it seemed a fine place to be."
The Emperor had finally brought up the Academy.
"Heh heh, how fortunate that the aims of the Academy our imperial family sponsors so closely match the prince's own heart. What do you suppose matters most in securing peace for the continent? Communication and cooperation, nothing more nor less. With the Prince of Draikna's heart opened this wide, I who pursue that peace could not be more delighted."
I hadn't applied to the Academy with any of that in mind. I just wanted to make friends. And I was bored, too. I tilted my teacup as the Emperor held forth. This man poured enormous meaning into the most ordinary things.
"I have already instructed your dean to look after the Prince of Draikna's comfort. The Academy's preparations must not fall short and cause the prince any inconvenience. Heh heh."
He sounded for all the world like he intended to become my guardian.
"Are you aware that our Third Prince is entering the Academy Special Class this term as well? I will have a word with my son, so should anything displease you, you need only speak of it to the boy plainly."
Come to think of it, the Empire's Third Prince was enrolling too. I remembered hearing something about that from Wreckar.
"Rest assured, I shall do everything in my power to make your stay in the Empire a comfortable one. And you must visit the palace from time to time and pay your respects. Heh heh. Our imperial house and you shall, in time, come to understand one another completely."
Understanding. Cooperation. Help.
The Emperor kept serving up abstractions, but what he wanted was perfectly clear: he would look after my comfort and lend me his aid, and in return he wanted my cooperation. It amounted to a request for a closer alliance.
I nodded. There was nothing in this arrangement for me to lose. As it stood, plenty of ordinary folk were liable to faint at the sight of me once I started attending the Academy; if the imperial family turned a blind eye to such small mishaps, my days there would become a great deal easier.
Demesis concluded the more-or-less cordial conversation and took his leave of the imperial palace.
The moment he was gone, the Emperor—who had been chattering away nonstop in the parlor—sagged gracelessly against the back of his chair.
"Your Majesty! Are you all right?"
The captain of the Imperial Guard lunged forward in a fright, fussing over his sovereign's condition. Hoo... hoo... The Emperor's breath came in ragged gasps, and when he spoke, no strength remained in his voice.
"I do believe I have just aged another ten years."
"Pardon?"
"I wish to rest a while. All of you, withdraw. Duke Hailon will remain."
He plucked a few pieces of sweet fruit from the table and ate them to wet his throat, then turned his head toward Duke Hailon. At the look in the Emperor's eyes, the Duke settled into the seat beside him.
"Your insistence on testing the prince has landed me in quite a predicament as well, you realize."
"My apologies, Your Majesty. I have no defense to offer. I had no intention of matching strength with the prince to that degree, but he took hold of me and would not let go."
"Hoho, and flustered you plainly were. When you, the Sword Saint of the continent, were seized and hauled bodily down those steps, I half believed I was about to be dragged along after you."
Who in the world could have imagined a Swordmaster being carried off, helpless as a lamb? The Emperor, who had watched Duke Hailon and Demesis contend before his very eyes, had trembled where he stood from sheer shock. If anything, when Demesis told the enthroned Emperor to come down, relief had been very nearly his first feeling. Nothing on this earth could have felt more unbearable than sitting in a seat higher than that being's.
Had some ignorant soul called the Emperor's descent from his throne a disgrace, the Emperor would have slapped that fool across the mouth and then, with perfect courtesy, delivered him to stand before Demesis. Go on—say that to this Dragonian's face, if you dare. Anyone presumptuous enough to look down on Demesis had best be prepared to ascend to the heavens at a moment's notice. And the Emperor had no intention whatsoever of leaving the mortal world just yet.
"So—did you get what you wanted? Were you able to gauge the man's ability?"
Duke Hailon had unleashed the defensive magic formation for one purpose: to measure Demesis's strength. If, despite every indignity suffered, the man's true capability had been properly assessed, then the face they had lost was no great waste.
"Yes."
Duke Hailon answered, his face like stone. The Emperor gave him his full attention.
"Tell me what you felt."
"In a contest of raw magic, there was no hope of victory whatsoever. He was toying with me. I had believed such a thing impossible ever since I earned the title of Swordmaster—but I am ashamed of myself."
Duke Hailon swallowed a bitter smile. He had prided himself that only a handful on the continent could cross blades with him as an equal. Being handled like a plaything by Demesis had shattered that pride to splinters. Part of his soul had plainly fled the premises, yet he gave the Emperor an honest account of what he had felt.
"Our judgment that he is stronger than us was correct. He appears to lack genuine combat experience as yet—but his body and his magic are so perfect that such experience may never be needed. And his control over his power stands at a level no human being can touch."
"A true monster, then."
"If we resigned ourselves to mutual annihilation and activated every defensive formation in the palace at once, we might conceivably bring him down. But that would obviously be meaningless. There is no reason for all of us to die hurling ourselves at him."
Throughout it all, it had felt as though Demesis were going easy on them—humoring everyone present. There was no sense in fighting such a being. Why needlessly poke at the whiskers of a lion yawning peacefully in the sun, only to see one's whole house scattered to the winds? Leaving him untouched, free to do as he pleased, was simply the best course.
"In any case, inviting him here seems to have been the right call. A stroke of fortune, coming to know of such a man before anyone else—haha."
The Emperor let out a hearty laugh. Those few minutes facing Demesis had been a battle against the very limits of terror—but the returns had justified every second of it.
"That old serpent of a Pope, and that insolent Mercenary King. I find myself quite eager to see the looks on their faces when they meet the Dragonian Prince. And the Master of the Magic Tower remains ignorant of him as well, does he not?"
Intelligence seized ahead of the rest would go a long way toward propping up the imperial family's authority against every rival power on the continent. Picture it: Demesis, enrolled at the Imperial Academy. How many in this world could stand in his way?
It was like strapping a fire-breathing dragon to one's back. Handled carelessly, those flames might one day turn upon the palace—but at the very least, having been burned by them firsthand, they now knew sooner than anyone else alive just how scorching hot that fire burned. From this day forward, the imperial family resolved to keep its peace with Demesis.