Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: An Audience with the Emperor
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“Young Lord Eric Theodore, His Majesty summons you. He wishes to meet the hero who led the victory in the North in person.”
In front of the Theodore Ducal Family's iron gates.
A splendid carriage adorned with gold-plated wheels and red velvet curtains
had come to a stop.
The imperial chamberlain stepped down and bowed politely.
Any ordinary noble would have been overjoyed at the emperor's summons and rushed out barefoot.
But the front door opened, and Eric—who had already been waiting—emerged in impeccably pressed formal attire,
tapping his pocket watch against his wrist.
“Ten minutes.”
“What?”
“You're ten minutes later than I expected.”
The chamberlain's eyes widened in surprise.
Scolding him for being late to the emperor's summons?
As the chamberlain stood there dumbfounded,
heavy footsteps approached, and Family Head Alfonso Theodore strode out.
“Were you expecting His Majesty's summons?”
He asked sternly, gazing at his son's back.
“Of course. Our stuff performed better than expected, didn't it? I figured he'd call for me.
I was even planning to go to him myself if he didn't. Glad he sent a carriage.”
“Hah... The kid's got guts, I'll give him that. I'll accompany you.”
A chuckle escaped Alfonso's lips.
The carriage to the Imperial Palace was filled with silence.
Alfonso gazed at the capital's scenery flashing by outside the window and spoke softly.
“Eric.”
“Yes, Father.”
“His Majesty has a fiery temper.
He's called the old lion, but his claws are still sharp. Dozens of nobles have lost their heads over a single wrong word.”
Sage advice from a family head who had survived the brutal political arena—and as a father.
“Don't be nervous. Show proper respect, but never cower.
You carry the blood of the Theodore family.”
But unlike Alfonso's worried expression,
Eric simply sat with his legs crossed, idly watching the view outside.
“Father, don't worry too much.”
“......”
“His Majesty is strict only with useless fools.
Chopping the heads of nobles who don't earn their keep is just natural, isn't it?”
A faint smile played on Eric's lips.
“But for someone as useful as me, who would stay loyal to the Imperial Family if he cut my head off?
His Majesty isn't as foolish as you might think.”
Alfonso stared at his son.
There wasn't a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
It wasn't bravado.
Hah... Is this really the lazy Eric I knew?
He's cut from a different cloth than his brothers.
Not only unafraid of the emperor...
Absolute confidence in his own worth, and the insight to see through others.
“Alright. Handle it your way. I expect great things.”
Alfonso leaned back, lost in thought.
Perhaps the Theodore family's future—once filled only with worries—might shine brighter than he imagined.
“Duke Alfonso Theodore, Eric Theodore—enter!”
With a grand trumpet fanfare, the massive doors of the Imperial Palace audience chamber swung open.
The gazes of numerous high nobles fixed on Eric.
They wanted to see for themselves the slacker young lord who had saved the Northern Frontline.
And at the highest point.
Seated upon the golden throne was the master of the empire, Emperor Leopold III.
His hair was white as snow, but his eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a beast.
“We pay respects to Your Majesty.”
Eric and Alfonso knelt before the throne and paid their respects.
“Are you Eric Theodore?”
Leopold III rested his chin on his hand and looked down at Eric impassively.
His voice rumbled low like an echo in a cave.
“Are you the bold one who held the commander's leash and yanked it?”
A silence like cold water poured over the audience chamber descended.
Alfonso's shoulders tensed at the murderous edge to the question.
“A leash? Perish the thought.”
But Eric lifted his head and met the emperor's eyes calmly.
His voice was remarkably steady.
“The commander was thirsty, so I simply dug him a well.
It just happened to cost a bit more.”
“......!”
The nobles began to murmur.
This madman... Talking back to His Majesty the Emperor?
His guts are hanging out!
The emperor's eyes twitched.
“The well's price. In wartime, charging ten times the market rate—is that justified?”
The emperor gripped the throne's armrest tightly.
“I could have you executed right now.
For profiteering off the war. Speak your defense.”
A blatant threat.
“Y-Your Majesty, that is...”
As Alfonso stepped forward to speak urgently,
Eric extended his hand to stop his father.
“Execution? That's too much. I was merely protecting Your Majesty's throne.”
He let out a dramatic sigh, as if deeply wronged.
“Hah... What?”
“What if I had sold the iron ore to Your Majesty as mere rocks, like he wanted?
By the time the swords arrived, the soldiers fighting with rusted blades would have been wiped out.”
Eric pointed to the map hanging in the audience chamber.
“Right now, Bukan Kingdom warriors would be overrunning the front lines, and Your Majesty would be sitting on cold stone instead of that soft, warm throne.”
“This... insolent whelp!”
The nobles cried out in shock.
It was blasphemy, an insult to the emperor.
But Eric pressed on.
“For the empire's survival and Your Majesty's life, ten times was a bargain, wasn't it?
I gave it to you out of patriotism. Honestly, I thought I could've charged a hundred times.”
Silence.
An absolute hush fell over the chamber, not even a breath to be heard.
Everyone awaited the emperor's command for execution.
Then...
“Kuh...”
The emperor's shoulders shook.
“Uahaha! Hahahahaha!!”
Leopold III slapped the throne, roaring with laughter.
“What a entertaining fellow! You're the first to wag your tongue like this before me!
Everyone else trembles and begs for mercy, yet you dare mention my life's worth.”
The emperor wiped tears from his eyes and pointed at Eric.
“Very well. I acknowledge your merits and your guts.
You're right. My life couldn't be worth so little.”
The nobles stared at each other in stunned disbelief.
“Speak what you desire.
As the top contributor to this battle, you deserve a reward.”
The emperor leaned forward with interest.
“Shall I give you the position of Finance Minister?
Try managing my coffers. I grant it specially.”
An outrageous proposal.
Finance Minister.
The powerful post that controlled the empire's purse strings.
The dream promotion for any noble.
Finance Minister!
Alfonso, head bowed, had eyes bulging in shock.
“Ugh... No thanks.”
But Eric waved it off in disgust.
“Absolutely... no way... Never. I pass!”
“What? You refuse?”
The emperor's brow furrowed.
“Your Majesty, I sleep in too much to make it to work.
That wouldn't be a reward—it'd be torture.”
“......”
“And state affairs give me headaches. I'm all about lounging at home, breathing easy.
Overwork? Hate it.”
Eric pulled a scroll from his bosom.
“Instead, could you approve this payment?”
Whoosh.
As he unrolled it, the end didn't just hit the floor—it rolled all the way to the emperor's feet.
[Long-Range Weapon Payment Invoice]
Every item included overtime pay, express delivery fees, hazard pay, psychological damage compensation, and all sorts of excuses.
“Hah... Do you really intend to bankrupt the national treasury?”
The emperor skimmed the invoice and let out a hollow laugh.
“Would a loyal subject like me ever dream of bankrupting the treasury?”
Eric shook his head.
“You can give something else instead.”
“Something else?”
“Two things.”
Eric boldly held up two fingers.
“First, designate the Theodore Merchant Company as the Imperial Family's official supplier.”
Imperial Family's official supplier.
“Second, grant the Theodore Merchant Company full tax exemptions for the next ten years.”
The nobles erupted in murmurs.
T-Tax exemption? No taxes?
Demanding exemption from the nation's lifeline—taxes.
“Hah... Won't work, demands no taxes, just wants to rake in cash?
You're a proper thief at heart.”
The emperor clicked his tongue in disbelief.
“Your Majesty.”
Eric met the emperor's eyes with a serious gaze.
“Even Your Majesty needs a reliable wallet to borrow from in emergencies.”
“A wallet?”
“I'll be your wallet.
Wouldn't it be better for me to scrape money together with a rake and splash it out when Your Majesty needs it, rather than collecting taxes?”
The emperor fell silent for a moment.
Eric Theodore.
Greedy little punk. But honest.
Better than the power-hungry snakes sharpening knives behind his back.
This money-grubber was easier to handle—and useful.
And above all, capable.
“Very well.”
The emperor picked up the seal beside the throne.
“I accept your proposal. But if your wallet's empty when I need it, I'll take your head then.”
“No worries. I'll keep it fat and full.”
Bam!
The emperor's approval was stamped.
The moment a golden goose was born.
On the way out after their successful deal.
“You really won't regret this? Kicking away the Finance Minister position. Do you know what that seat means?”
As they walked the palace's long corridor, Alfonso still couldn't believe it, staring at Eric.
“Power's a hassle with all the responsibility.
Stamping approval papers wears out your wrist.”
Eric stretched with a carefree expression.
“Money's the best. With money, power follows on its own.”
“Hah... I can't read you, boy.”
And so, father and son vanished down the corridor.
Watching from the deep shadows was a figure.
Silver hair like frost.
A beauty carved from ice.
First Princess Iris Leopold.
Her blue eyes fixed on Eric, who smiled nonchalantly.
Not buckling under Father's intimidating aura, striking back with guts.
Iris bit her lip.
The 'slacker young lord' reputation was all an act.
Perhaps he's the one I've been searching for...
A chilling smile curved her lips.
“Time for an investigation. Eric Theodore,
what's your true identity?”
Eric, climbing into the carriage, shivered suddenly.
“Ugh... Why's it suddenly so cold?”
He pulled his collar tight and sniffed.
Oblivious to the new trap closing in behind him,
dreaming only of crawling into his warm blankets.