Chapter 35
Meeting high-ranking people was always uncomfortable. Whether in the 21st-century modern world or this fantasy game world, it was the same.
You had to be cautious with every action—heck, even breathing—lest you catch their eye and invite disaster. Quick thinking to handle any situation flawlessly was essential.
But there were worst-case scenarios no amount of effort could counter...
"Franz, care for a cup of tea?"
"I-I'll do it, Your Majesty."
His Majesty rose and personally brought over the teacup and teapot. Franz could only stare blankly. He couldn't dare stop the Emperor's actions.
This was exactly that situation. The higher-up was trying to make the subordinate comfortable in their own way, but the subordinate ended up tasting real-time hell.
Damn... this is awful.
I just wanna get back to the Magic Tower already.
"Truth be told, I've recently taken a hobby in brewing tea. But serving it to you, I'm not confident. Won't you try it and share your thoughts?"
His Majesty said this as he poured the tea into the cup. Franz gulped, staring at the cup before him.
What do I do?
It was tea personally brewed by His Majesty. Taste aside, the right answer was obviously to say it was delicious. But what if His Majesty had messed up the brewing? That would make it a lie, and if caught, it'd be deceiving the Emperor.
Hmm...
I'll drink first and think later.
His Majesty might have brewed something genuinely tasty, after all.
"To taste tea you've personally brewed is a true honor, Your Majesty."
"Haha, it's not that grand. Anyway, go on and drink—tell me what you think."
His Majesty gazed at him with childlike anticipation unfit for his age, so Franz took a deep breath inwardly and lifted the cup right away.
Slurp—
'Ah...'
The moment he tasted it, Franz felt profound relief. It was delicious. Far better than anything he'd ever brewed himself.
All his worries had been pointless. Of course—the tea leaves were surely the finest, fit for the imperial household. And the Emperor was nobility among nobility. Nobles were trained in the art of tea from the start, so it made sense.
He felt pathetic for doubting His Majesty, but his mind was at ease. No need for lies.
"Your Majesty, it's truly delicious. Nothing I've tasted before compares."
"Is that so? I'm glad it suits your palate."
A faint smile spread across His Majesty's face, pleased by the praise. Franz sipped cautiously, gauging his mood.
What on earth is he getting at with all this?
He'd met His Majesty a few times before, but never been treated this kindly. Naturally, questions arose.
Silence flowed, broken only by the sound of sipping tea. His Majesty spoke first.
"Franz, the truth is, I didn't summon you just for the Istar Duke—no, that heretic. There's something important I wish to ask of you."
"You mean..."
"I have a crucial request."
Just as expected. No surprise there. The issue was what came next...
'Please let it be something simple.'
His prior guess had hit the mark, so he hoped this one would too.
But Franz's wish shattered in under a minute.
"I intend to purge all the heretics from the Empire."
...?
Franz's brain froze, outputting question marks. It was utterly incomprehensible.
"I understand your reaction. Of course it's daunting. But after this incident, I've realized: leave them be, and they'll fester like pus, eventually dooming the Empire."
He got His Majesty's mindset. But was it feasible? Honestly, hard to say.
The heretics masqueraded as a demon-worshipping cult, but they rarely acted as a group. Take Istar—he could've mobilized more heretics to crush Yuna, but didn't.
So they were a group that wasn't a group. Individuals united by a common goal. Rooting them out meant flooding the Empire with knights and spilling blood everywhere.
His Majesty probably knew this, which was why he hadn't acted decisively. A land soaked in blood destabilized everything, heretic or not.
"Your Majesty, what would you have me do?"
Franz set aside his doubts for now. He could decide after hearing more.
"We've been quietly gathering intel on the heretics, and it seems they have ranks among them. At the top are seven called the Seven Great Evils. I'd like you to handle them."
In simple terms: kill the seven heretic bosses.
"Once they're gone, we'll manage the rest. Surely you can do that much."
Honestly, no real choice. With His Majesty so resolute, refusal wasn't an option. Who turns down a superior's request—especially the Emperor's?
Only one answer.
"I'll do it."
The heretics had been crawling out lately anyway, souring his mood. Istar had nearly doomed the world by tormenting Yuna.
With this justification, time to smash them for good.
"Franz, thank you."
His Majesty bowed his head from his seat. Franz dropped to the floor and prostrated himself at once. A lesson from office life: if the superior bows, bow lower.
"Y-Your Majesty, you mustn't. Please, raise your head."
"If you do this, what does that make me? I can't even give thanks."
"Thanks are fine. It's my duty as an imperial citizen."
"Having someone like you by my side is a blessing beyond measure. Very well, enough. You raise your head too."
Franz could only lift his head after giving his firm assent. He never wanted to go through that again. His hair might fall out from the stress.
Anyway.
"Does the Church of the Goddess know?"
"The Pope and Saintess are coming tomorrow. I'll speak to them, so don't worry."
He wasn't worried. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance for the church. They'd mobilize everything to aid the Empire.
Justia was the concern.
She's much better, but...
If her body tired and her mind frayed again, her mental illness might return. That could trigger another bad end route.
He'd have to visit and talk soon. Block the branch point preemptively.
His Majesty's business was surely done. No reason to linger.
"Then, Your Majesty, if I may be excused—the Magic Tower business awaits."
Franz buzzed with excitement at returning. Barely an hour in the palace, and his head already throbbed.
But this hope crumbled too.
"A personal favor: would you see my daughter? She seems to have the makings of a grand mage."
The Emperor's doting-dad mode had kicked in again. No refusing that.
"To witness Her Highness's magic would be my honor."
Grand mage advocate or actual grand mage? He'd know upon seeing. But his gut said the former.
The elves' homeland, the Great Forest.
A massive crisis was unfolding there.
"Lady Hera, the World Tree's leaves are still wilting."
"I see."
Tribal chief Hera fell deep into thought. For some reason, the World Tree's power was steadily waning. The forest's trees were losing strength in tandem—a dire problem.
Even the Spirit King only mentioned sensing evil energy, offering no answers.
Then, one name surfaced in Hera's mind: Franz. The man who'd helped her.
She already owed him an irredeemable debt, so she hated to ask... but
'No choice.'
This concerned the entire Great Forest and elf tribe. Pride could wait.