The Era of Peace
Philila had been out of her family's home for several weeks now.
In that time she had settled into life at Rai's residence, and the constant change had slowly turned into something close to a routine.
Yet the world around her remained far more complicated than she had ever imagined.
Just as Philila had expected, the faction that supported the second prince—Infante's own group—had already begun to exert pressure on the academy and impose restrictions. The largest and quickest source of funding, the donations, had been slashed by more than half in a single move.
With tuition fees and the central government grants barely enough to keep the academy afloat, Headmistress Celenas was forced to put in endless hours of hard work just to cover the shortfall.
Fortunately, rival powers within the empire saw the current moment as an opening. They had poured fresh donations into the academy, giving everyone a collective sigh of relief. Had things gone the other way, the academy's curriculum next year would have faced brutal cuts.
Until now, Rai had paid almost no attention to the empire's internal affairs. Thanks to Philila, that had all changed.
Reading the reports and intelligence gleaned through Selma's connections, he quickly discovered the situation was far more serious than anyone had warned him about.
Philila had spoken to him about its political importance, but she had clearly meant it as a warning rather than simple advice. Her youth meant she still lacked experience, and she was trying to protect him from being used by the scheming nobles around them.
No matter how much Infante could be wounded by stirring up family discord, it would only be a scratch. Even if the second prince's position weakened, the core strength of his faction would not vanish overnight.
Other powers might gain advantage or lose it; Infante's faction sat in the middle, able to choose whichever side suited them better.
Yet upon closer examination, Philila's own situation proved far more critical.
First, the power balance among the factions had become dangerously tight.
Originally, the first prince—older and far more capable than the other imperial children—had been the clear successor. As long as he lived, the throne was his.
Until it was not.
Whether fate itself or the greed of some ambitious individual had played a role, the moment the designated heir was struck down, the entire power structure collapsed into chaos.
And with the emperor himself now on his deathbed, without naming a clear successor, the imperial princes and princesses were growing bolder by the day.
'The fox is scheming again, isn't he.'
Rai had been set to die at Ketlangca Gate because the emperor had used his own health as bait, forcing the surrender without a single battle. He had suspected the same trick was being pulled again—until he saw the reports. The man was nearly ninety years old now. He had lived a life of luxury and comfort, so longevity came easily for a national leader.
Yet that very longevity was what had doomed Keilen Kingdom.
During their final battle, the emperor had spread rumors of his imminent death to lure the nobles into defecting. He had only needed to hold on for a few more months; then the empire would tear itself apart over succession. Rai had been dragged to the gate against his will.
The result was the complete fall of Keilen, and now Rai himself had become nothing more than academy property.
Using the same old ploy again was no longer possible. His remaining lifespan was too short.
The second prince still commanded the largest faction, but without the first prince to anchor it, the remaining forces had scattered. The gap between them was now smaller than ever.
Excluding the sixth princess, who had been exiled to the academy, and the fourth prince, sent abroad under the pretense of study, every other faction was roughly equal.
The second prince, the third prince, and the fifth princess each maintained their own bloc. They constantly checked one another, striving to trim even a single point of advantage from their rivals.
Within this razor-thin balance, Infante occupied a position of genuine importance.
His personality was terrible, but he had accumulated countless favors across generations and maintained long-standing connections in every branch of government.
His only real flaw was a lack of actual military power. Nobles with sons in the army had simply stayed out of the succession fight to avoid becoming targets.
Like most central nobles, Infante understood this. His true strength lay in politics, which was why Serios had built an independent faction around him.
Whenever Infante shifted his support, the entire power structure moved with him. And with so few nobles controlling such concentrated influence, the second prince's group had spared no effort to keep him close.
Yet the greatest danger was that Infante's personality, though politically brilliant, might one day turn on his current allies.
This possibility had made every faction—including the second prince's—extremely cautious.
They did not want to lose the chance to recruit Philila directly, nor did they wish to hand Infante the opening to stir up internal discord within the faction.
So instead of approaching her, they were content to watch from a distance.
Right now there was no movement. But the moment anyone reached for her, every faction would converge in an instant, balancing on a knife's edge.
For years, Rai had watched everything around him drift by without interfering.
He had been a foreigner and a defeated warlord in the empire; he had no interest in its affairs.
Yet seeing the situation unravel, he could no longer pretend it did not concern him.
Keilen Kingdom had fallen, but the empire still had enemies. The biggest of them still walked free, watching and waiting.
Although Keilen had been small and weak, its survival had been possible only because the empire could not spare enough resources to crush it completely. The northern Nordern, which shared a border of similar size, had held the empire in check for more than two hundred years.
The empire had stationed more than half its army along that border and committed the rest to other fronts.
That was why, in the final war, Rai had been able to stand before the full might of the empire and demand the surrender terms he wanted.
Nordern still dreamed of fertile southern lands. If the succession war grew too chaotic, the empire might vanish overnight.
'He said he would create a world without war. What was he thinking now?'
Rai had met the emperor several times on the battlefield. Not all encounters had been pleasant. He had once barely escaped the emperor's attack, and there had been other times when the roles had been reversed.
The face-to-face conversations that left the deepest impression, however, had been with the emperor himself—far more memorable than even Edelian.
Although the emperor had conquered many nations and earned the title of war-madman, he had genuinely hated war.
Rai still remembered the day they had spoken across a river, with hundreds of knights standing behind the emperor and a dozen aides—Joshua and Melanie among them—poised for battle on his side.
The numbers favored the emperor, but it was Rai's side that held the advantage. His aides were snarling with the urge to charge at any moment, and the emperor himself stood directly in front of them.
One man to capture, and the empire's long war could end in a single stroke.
The emperor had loved the tactic of using his own life as bait.
It had failed against Rai, costing him the battle, but the emperor had laughed with genuine delight.
“Little library brat, I will bring peace to the world. Rest easy and die.”
“Old man, dying earlier would have been kinder.”
Both men had smiled, yet the soldiers behind them had looked grim and radiated killing intent.
“All right then. Live long, child. Even if I die, peace will continue for hundreds of years. You will live long enough to visit my grave three times a day and pray over me.”
“Just cross Ketlangca Gate, old man. I cannot even beat one man, so peace is nonsense.”
They had exchanged words like that many times. The emperor and Rai understood each other completely.
They both knew exactly what plan the emperor had been pursuing through Keilen Kingdom, and why Rai had fought so desperately to protect a worthless kingdom.
They had no need to say such things out loud. It was a contest between winners who would simply continue writing the story they wanted.
“You who possess only knowledge but no wisdom—see you in Feodor next year.”
Feodor was the capital of Keilen Kingdom.
The emperor, having sworn he would conquer Keilen within a year, turned away with nothing left to do. Every knight followed him except a handful posted along the riverbank to watch for threats.
Melanie watched the dust rising behind him and told Rai, “The knights are approaching. If we cross the river now and stop the emperor from escaping, we can join our forces and capture him.”
Rai shook his head.
“He’s already here.”
Before the words had even left his mouth, the sound of marching feet reached them. Melanie turned just in time to see the hidden knights emerge from the forest and form a protective screen around the emperor.
Looking at the army that numbered in the tens of thousands, Melanie let out a helpless laugh.
“Oh dear. We’ve walked right into the trap.”
“As cunning as ever, old man.”
Joshua clicked his tongue. Rai clicked his back even harder.
Exactly one year later, the emperor—having bound Rai at the gate—had conquered Keilen Kingdom. Now he had to prove the words he had spoken.
Yet he had not intervened at all in the escalating succession war.
If Rai had expected the emperor to act, he would have been mistaken.
The man who had spoken like a dreamer was the emperor, and perhaps it had been possible.
Not just to last until he died, but to maintain peace for hundreds of years.
It was literally the era of peace.
A feat no great general and no scholar of the world could have accomplished.
Only a few steps remained until its completion, yet someone was about to ruin everything for the trivial reason of an imperial succession fight.
Rai, who knew the full scope of the plan, felt only frustration.
'Is the fox really not dead yet?'
There were rumors that the emperor had gone silent in public, refusing to appear in official audiences.
Many men of lofty ideals had failed because they could not finish their work in time, and their names filled the history books.
Similarly, most successors had ruined their predecessors' legacies.
Rai worried whether the emperor had shared the same fate.
Although Joshua had not mentioned it, the man might still be alive, but Rai could not trust him.
He might be near death, or already dead, with information being concealed to prevent chaos.
Either way, the truth could not remain hidden for long.
If the rumor of the emperor's death ever spread, the empire would erupt in chaos.
At that moment, Rai would have to decide what to do.
He had been a third party until now.
With the fall of Keilen Kingdom, Rai had released everything he held dear.
He had stepped out of the axis of history and watched the emperor draw the picture of peace from the sidelines.
Yet when the great work stood before him and foolish children spoiled it, he knew he would not be able to stay quiet.
It would be difficult for him to intervene as the Devil of All Nations, and the path forward seemed unclear.
One thing, however, was certain.
If the emperor died without achieving anything, Rai would pick up the brush and continue the painting himself.
Both men—the war-crazed emperor and the Devil of All Nations—shared one absolute truth.
They had fought war too many times and longed for peace more than anything.