Chapter 0
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 0
Chapter Title: Prologue
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Emperor Juwon of the empire rested his chin on his hand and gazed down from the jade throne at the princes below—those hailed as the empire's future. But in the emperor's eyes, they were nothing more than defective rejects.
"Your Majesty! This son has mastered the Shaolin Temple's Hundred Step Divine Fist! Please behold!"
The Third Prince thrust his fist into the air, and with a dull thud, a fist mark appeared on the pillar. Juwon swallowed a yawn.
Manners be damned, all muscle and no brains. Perfect arrow fodder on the battlefield.
Destroying palace fixtures and bragging about it. Too tiresome even to scold—the emperor averted his gaze. Then the Second Prince stepped forward to boast of his scholarly achievements.
"Your Majesty, I have recently comprehended the principles of Neo-Confucianism..."
A smooth talker. If that one ever governed, rebellion would erupt within a year.
He seemed thoughtful enough, but it was all pie-in-the-sky nonsense, utterly useless.
The emperor was bored with everything.
This throne he had seized, drenched in his brothers' blood. He had purged his meritorious retainers, earning the infamous title of "tyrant." In return, imperial authority had strengthened, and the empire had found peace. But his own reputation lay in tatters.
At this rate, I'll go down in history as a blood-mad butcher of an emperor.
He couldn't stand that.
There was only one way to rewrite the history that lay ahead: a successor who could understand his solitude and madness, who could lead this vast empire to even greater glory.
A successor who could transform his current infamy into the foundation of becoming a revered Grand Emperor.
But his progeny had turned out a complete disaster. Obsessed with martial arts, drunk on ideals, blinded by lust for power—nothing but duds. Watching any longer might make his boiling temper erupt; he felt like drawing his sword.
Without a word, Juwon shoved back his seat and rose.
"Y-Your Majesty?"
As everyone panicked, a quick-witted eunuch hurried after him and cautiously spoke up.
"The tributes from the envoys at this celebratory banquet are quite varied. Would Your Majesty care to take a look?"
He had to suppress the urge to smash everything after the princes' pathetic display. In his desperate need for a distraction, it seemed like a fine suggestion.
"..."
Saying nothing, he followed the eunuch.
In the temporary tent piled high with the envoys' gifts, the Inma Tribe's Ger tent brimmed with treasures money couldn't buy: Century Ice Crystals, World Tree Leaves, Banam Tribe famed swords, and more.
His mood was lifting at the sight of these worthwhile offerings when something grating caught his eye. Amid the stacked crates in the corner, he sensed a presence.
The eunuchs' negligence?
They couldn't even clear the path for the emperor properly. Fury rose again at the incompetence plaguing his palace.
Curious to see which fool was lurking about, he turned his gaze.
Behind the crates in the dim corner huddled a small figure.
Seeing the face jogged his memory. The seventeenth prince, Jui-an. Born to a lowborn mother, the boy lived quietly, as if he barely existed. Five years old this year, was it?
"At this rate... hmm. Indeed..."
The child was muttering to himself, scribbling furiously on the dirt floor.
For some reason, curiosity stirred. Juwon approached silently from behind, like a shadow—a stealthy advance even a peak master would struggle to detect.
The boy flinched.
Even with such stealth, Jui-an froze, twig in hand.
Hoh?
The emperor's eyes narrowed. Coincidence? Or instinct? Come to think of it, he'd heard tales of the boy mimicking eunuchs' breathing even as an infant. The child had sharp senses, it seemed.
"What are you doing?"
The emperor's low, gravelly voice rang out. The surrounding eunuchs paled and slammed their heads to the ground. But Jui-an calmly turned, looking up at the emperor with dry eyes devoid of fear or awe.
"Doing some calculations."
"Calculations? Of what?"
"Comparing the tribute list from the Green Moon Tribe of the Southern Barbarian Palace against the actual circulating volume on the market."
The emperor nearly let out a hollow laugh. Words from a mere five-year-old?
"And? What did you find?"
"The ledgers say a thousand World Tree Leaves arrived, but only eight hundred made it here. Two hundred evaporated somewhere."
The boy tapped the numbers and letters he'd scratched into the dirt with his twig.
"The sender is listed as the Martial Alliance. That means the intermediate distributors—the escort agencies under the Alliance—must have embezzled them. That's high treason, plain and simple."
Juwon's eyes widened. Any normal child would be dazzled by the treasures. But this one had spotted a leak in the supply chain.
"The Martial Alliance are called the empire's guardians. Isn't it customary for them to skim a little?"
The emperor asked sternly, testing him. Jui-an furrowed his brow, his expression like that of an official glaring at a stubborn, thick-headed petitioner—deeply irreverent, yet oddly appealing to the emperor.
"Your Majesty. The Civil-Military Non-Aggression Pact is a treaty of mutual respect, not a blanket immunity to insult the throne."
"..."
"They seize roads by force, smash inns, carry unlicensed weapons—all because they have power. From the empire's perspective, they're just an organized gang of thugs. A criminal syndicate that doesn't pay a single coin in taxes, no less."
Jui-an sighed and added,
"We need to investigate thoroughly, levy back taxes, and show the full weight of the law. Only then will even the empire's fringes fear it."
In that instant, Emperor Juwon's lips twisted upward in a bizarre grin. The eunuchs prostrated on the ground shivered.
Fortunately, the expression filling his face was not anger.
It was the ecstatic smile of a beast who had roamed his whole life seeking one who understood his shadow—and finally found kin.
A prince who scorned martial prowess. One who mocked chivalry and championed law and taxes above it. The sole blood kin who could reframe his cruelty as strengthening the throne for his successor.
"Jui-an, was it?"
The emperor's massive hand seized the boy's head. Jui-an panicked inwardly.
Oh no, I'm done for. Should've played dumb. But why's this guy's gaze like that?
Against the boy's wishes, the emperor's grip tightened.
The child had no idea. His offhand bureaucratic gripe had ignited a fire in this tyrant's heart.
"From today onward, the Crown Prince's education shall be handled by Us personally."
The emperor's decree echoed through the palace gardens. In that moment, the life plan of the man who had been a diligent civil servant in his previous life—and dreamed only of quiet obscurity in this one—shattered to pieces.