Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: 45. The Emperor's Medal (3)
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At the emperor's declaration, the eyes of the young knights gathered in the banquet hall changed.
Ekaterina sat quietly beside the jade throne, gazing down at the hall.
Those actually seeing her wouldn't have been able to help their hearts stirring at his words—unless they'd been completely oblivious.
She was beautiful, like a goddess made flesh.
"So, do your best, everyone. Heh heh hm..."
Ivar let out a chuckle. Yuri glanced briefly at Ekaterina.
Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it was so fleeting that only those who knew her well would have noticed.
Had they not rehearsed this beforehand?
It wasn't all that strange.
Ivar was the emperor, after all. He might seem full of mischief, but when it came to state affairs, he pushed everything through exactly as he wished.
There had been plenty of similar incidents in his previous life.
"I have high expectations. For you too..."
Ivar smiled at Yuri. Yuri simply bowed his head.
"Our empire has some fine young men, doesn't it? About time they started thinking of marriage. Hm..."
His gaze flicked briefly to one corner of the banquet hall before returning.
"There seem to be a lot of talented youngsters among the young knights this time around. Makes me happy. You lot too—come anytime. The empire's doors are always open."
Ivar patted Jonathan's shoulder nearby, revealing his true intentions.
"Jonathan. This guy's a sharp knight, eh? Shall I give him a territory?"
"No, Your Majesty. Your words alone are thanks enough."
"I love talent. Back when I was young..."
Ivar tossed out a few more jokes. Most were lighthearted nonsense, but occasionally, a hint of sincerity slipped through the cracks.
After rambling on for a while, Ivar finally rose to leave.
"I've kept you all too long. Young folks should enjoy themselves among their own kind. The empire's full of pretty and handsome youths—get to know them. You there, Burssens' friend, Jonathan. So? Who's the fairest here?"
"Pardon?"
"Be honest."
"Well..."
Caught off guard, Jonathan couldn't muster a suitable reply and unwittingly let his eyes drift toward Ekaterina.
"My daughter, after all?"
Ivar burst into laughter.
"Alright, enough of this old man's drivel. Have fun, everyone."
"Yes, sir!"
Ivar met each person's gaze once before turning away.
Those gathered bowed in unison toward his retreating back.
The emperor of the empire, Ivar in name and truth, left a presence that weighed down the room long after he'd gone.
His casual demeanor only amplified the gravity.
"Whew..."
As the emperor began mingling with the empire's nobles, everyone finally relaxed and let out sighs of relief.
Wolf, standing beside him, remarked,
"Not an ordinary man."
"Seems that way."
"At least he's not as intimidating as I feared. Small mercies."
Yuri nodded in agreement.
There were some enigmatic aspects, but the emperor didn't strike him as the type to wage indiscriminate wars.
"With a moderate emperor like this, the continent should enjoy peace for a while."
"One can hope."
Yuri stared at the emperor.
He'd expected someone sharper, more cold-blooded. Instead, here was a man cracking bland jokes amid gathered nobles—far from his assumptions.
So, had the emperor truly gone mad from black magic?
"Anyway..."
Wolf suddenly asked Yuri, lost in thought.
"What do you think, Your Highness?"
"Hm?"
Wolf glanced at Yuri, then at the imperial family's seats.
"You two seem well-suited."
"Hard to say."
Yuri chuckled dryly.
"What of your son?"
"My boy lacks the qualifications. Haha..."
"Sven seemed to have found his resolve."
"Then that's all thanks to the friendship Your Highness shared with him."
"Eh?"
Friendship? Had there ever been anything like that between him and Sven?
Yet Wolf looked at him with the fond eyes of a father grateful to the top student who'd guided his wayward son straight.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"No, it's..."
"We look forward to your performance in the tournament."
"We'll see."
Yuri shrugged. In this life, he planned to keep his distance from Ekaterina.
Whoever won and married her was none of his concern.
He'd purged those lingering emotions back at the Duforia Hotel, smothered under his pillow.
As he reminisced with Wolf about their Allied Forces days, a flash of red cape caught his peripheral vision.
"Yuri."
It was Ragna.
Yuri and Wolf offered their respects.
"Your Highness."
"Must've been tough enduring all that idle chatter."
He shot a glare toward the emperor.
"All talk, that one..."
"Hahaha..."
"Dangling his daughter as a tournament prize? What a selfish bastard."
Probably the only one on the continent who could speak so freely during a ball with the emperor present.
"Now that it's come to this, you have to win, Yuri. For Ekaterina's sake."
"I've no interest in the tournament."
"No can do. There are too many wolfish suitors eyeing my niece."
"They're good fellows once you get to know them."
"You easygoing punk..."
As Yuri lifted his wine glass, Ragna grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, nearly spilling the contents.
"Look at that one."
"Pardon?"
Ragna pointed to one direction in the hall.
A handsome young man with lustrous hair swept back naturally.
Surrounded by people, he gestured extravagantly as he spoke, drawing laughter from those around him each time.
Though many women clustered nearby, his gaze frequently drifted toward Ekaterina.
Ragna whispered close to Yuri's ear.
"See that pretty boy with all the girls? Duke of Saito's son. A total gigolo."
Having lived similarly in his past life, Yuri knew that was high praise.
Lots of women around him.
Gigolo-like.
In other words, handsome.
"Looks can deceive—he's skilled with the sword. Even I'd acknowledge his talent."
"I see."
"He'll enter the tournament. No one but you can stop him."
"Why stop him?"
"I can't stand the thought of Ekaterina ending up with a guy like that."
"Her own father seems fine with it..."
"That's her weird old man's problem. You know me, Yuri. I'm generous. No intention of meddling in my niece's life."
"If you say so..."
"I mean it."
Looking back, Ragna had let things slide in his past life, even when penniless Yuri had been seeing Ekaterina.
But this duke's son? He genuinely despised him.
"Besides him, there aren't many real contenders in the tournament aside from you. Ekaterina's future worries me."
"Understood."
Yuri replied nonchalantly.
Irked by his attitude, Ragna grumbled.
"Yuri."
"Yes."
"You impotent or something?"
"Pardon?"
"I'm serious."
Ragna ranted right in his ear.
"Any man would feel his heart stir at the sight of Ekaterina, but you? Stone-faced before that beauty. Even when I offered to hook you up, you lied about having a lover..."
What could he say? The woman ruined his life so badly he was reborn.
He wanted to say it, but Yuri just offered a faint smile.
"Your Highness, a person's heart matters more than their looks."
Ragna looked shocked.
"True, but coming from you, it sounds so off..."
"It's because even Your Highness fares better in heart than looks."
"Hm? Never heard compliments on my appearance much."
"Exactly."
"What?"
While Ragna floundered in confusion, Yuri swiftly changed the subject.
"The food's excellent. The empire's culinary culture is impressive."
"Ah, of course it is."
Ragna launched into talk of cuisine.
Then, snapping to, he glanced around, hooked arms with Yuri, and whispered.
"Speaking of which, Yuri."
"Yes."
"That black magic I mentioned before."
During the Allied Forces, Ragna had suspected a link between the orcs and black magic, possibly originating from the imperial palace.
Had he found clues back in the empire?
"Something's off in the palace. I've investigated personally—can't say specifics, but I grasped a small lead."
His grip tightened on Yuri's shoulder.
"This isn't just the empire's problem, so keep it in mind. The war's over, but the issues linger."
"I'll remember."
Sharing this much with Yuri, unaffiliated with the empire, showed Ragna's true trust.
But Yuri hadn't shared what he knew with Ragna.
Ragna was imperial blood, after all.
Even with black magic involved, where his loyalties would lie if empire and Brioll's interests clashed remained unknown.
"Good."
Ragna grinned.
"Catch you later. Enjoy yourself, Yuri."
And he departed.
Afterward, empire nobles approached to pay respects. Yuri greeted them leisurely.
Then came the duke's son Ragna had warned about.
"Greetings, Your Highness. Your reputation precedes you."
Yuri's eyes flicked to his hair unwittingly. So well-groomed it gleamed.
"I'm Oliver Elgast. My father is the Duke of Saito."
"Yuri Brioll."
He seemed to await more, but when Yuri said nothing, Oliver nodded with a beaming smile.
"I've heard of your exploits in the Allied Forces."
Oliver offered a handshake.
Onlookers who'd been watching let out small cheers. Noble ladies hid smiles behind fans, whispering among themselves.
What's with the fuss?
Yuri took his hand. Oliver continued.
"As a knight myself, I'd love to cross swords. See you in the tournament."
Oliver bowed politely.
He played the gentleman, but Yuri sensed another emotion flickering in his eyes.
He understood now why Ragna disliked him.
"We'll see..."
Yuri replied ambiguously.
Oliver took it as assent, flashing another bright smile.
"Looking forward to it. Until then."
Yuri watched his retreating figure with a wry smile.
Everyone assumed he'd enter the tournament, it seemed.
"All excited for nothing..."
With the empire rotting from within, what tournament? Yuri had no intention of playing along.
He wet his lips with wine and headed to where the Brioll contingent gathered.
Hose was laughing heartily between Simon and Jared.
"Ah, Your Highness."
Hose said excitedly.
"I heard. His Majesty offered quite the prize."
"Indeed."
"If I were a bit younger, I'd have entered. Shame."
Hose was just over the age limit.
"Not sure if Your Highness will participate, but..."
Simon and Gines grumbled.
"He says no."
"If he did, it'd be a royal marriage..."
Yuri shot a light glare at the pair's nonsense. Chastened, Simon and Gines fell silent.
Hose laughed, slapping their backs.
"It's his call, of course. But..."
Hose wore a sly smile.
"Even if Your Highness entered, victory isn't guaranteed."
Yuri's eyebrow twitched.
"Plenty of interesting talents out there, it seems. Big nations breed big talents, eh?"
"That shiny-haired one?"
"Ah, yes. And others over there, plus some absent great knights. If you enter, Your Highness, tread carefully. Haha..."
Yuri narrowed his eyes at Hose's grin.
More effective than others' prodding—this stirred his competitive spirit.
For a moment, he considered joining just to crush them.
"Not interested."
"Pity. Would've been a spectacle."
"My sword's for battlefields, not shows."
Yuri raised his glass as he spoke.
"A toast instead. Feels like the Allied Forces are truly done now."
"You're right."
As they lifted their glasses, others gathered. Those who'd shared life and death on the battlefield now reveled in the emperor's victory banquet for the Allied Forces.
Bleeding out on those barren plains against orcs—who could've foreseen this day?
If only all had survived.
"To our fallen comrades."
Yuri said solemnly.
All raised their glasses with bittersweet smiles. Simon and Gines wrinkled their noses, thinking of Dyke.
"It was an honor fighting beside you. All of you."
They tilted their glasses.
After the tribute, boisterous laughter erupted.
At the center of the Allied Forces comrades' gathering was always Yuri.
Anyone watching could sense the position he'd held among them.
"Hahaha..."
Ekaterina quietly watched Yuri's profile from afar.