Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Audience with the Emperor
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As long as his mother was alive, the relationship between Damian and Lucas had been closer than that of any other prince and his father.
The Emperor visited the annex far more often than the Empress's quarters.
-This was made by a famous craftsman from the east.
Each time, he brought Damian intricate toys or spent time strolling together along the lake shore.
Of course, watchful eyes prevented him from calling him 'Father'. Even so, Damian back then had enjoyed his time with Lucas.
But everything changed after his mother's funeral.
The Emperor handed over full authority of state affairs to the Imperial Council and secluded himself.
He no longer met with Damian.
To him, Damian was not blood kin—just the lineage of the woman he loved.
Without her, Damian held no value.
"Damian Renekht greets Your Imperial Majesty."
"This isn't a formal occasion, so there's no need for such ceremony. Come, sit."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Even if he truly was Damian's father, and even if this was a private meeting, Damian had no desire to call Lucas 'Father'.
It wasn't simply because he had ignored and abandoned Damian all this time.
While the 1st Prince Michael and Empress Abigail might have actually sparked the civil war, it was Emperor Lucas who had let them be.
The reformists and orthodox factions could both claim legitimacy because Lucas had never clearly named a successor.
Even now, with conflict brewing beneath the surface between Michael's and Abigail's forces, he took no action.
Despite being in the position to mediate and possessing the power to stop it.
Thus, Lucas was nothing more than a deserter who had shirked his duties.
"Have some tea first. The south is a dry region, so your throat must be parched."
Damian took a sip of tea following Lucas's lead.
This tea... was no mere beverage for throat health. The moment he drank it, mana filled his entire body.
The fatigue from the recent battle vanished in an instant.
"So, did you enjoy your trip to the south?"
"...Wasn't this meeting meant to reprimand me?"
Damian hadn't outright violated imperial law, but he had indeed bent some royal protocols.
He had braced for the repercussions and prepared countermeasures.
Whether the Emperor or the Imperial Council—Damian assumed they had summoned him for the same reason.
But Lucas's demeanor was like that of a father reuniting with his son after a long absence.
"Reprimand? That's laughable from the start. The Empire's prestige reaches every corner of the continent, yet the heart of the Empire—the imperial family—can't visit a place at will?"
He showed no intention of making an issue of Damian's southern visit. If anything, he praised his actions.
"I've received the reports. Heh heh heh. For those arrogant southern nobles to send you such fawning letters. Live long enough, and you'll see anything.
Normally, Damian would have had to appear before the Imperial Council, but it seemed Lucas had intervened midway.
Even if the Council wielded real power, they were ultimately proxies for the Emperor. There was no basis to block him if he chose to step in personally.
"Did you summon me to discuss that?"
"Your recent exploits have been the talk of the Empire. You truly resemble Marian in that way."
Marian Renekht.
Damian's mother and the woman who had captured the Emperor's favor.
"The first time I saw her, she was like a wildflower. Faint presence, not excelling at anything."
Lucas rested his chin on his hand, reminiscing about the past. His eyelids slowly drooped, as if falling asleep.
"Yet in less than a year, she became a woman. A wildflower whose scent never faded, no matter how you compared it to the Empire's finest blooms."
He had clearly drunk tea, but Lucas looked no different from a man drunk on liquor.
This was how he had lived every day since the funeral of the woman he loved—listless and inert.
No elixir could cure him.
"I knew you were going through hard times. But I also believed in you."
Lucas opened his eyes again and looked at Damian.
Frankly, Damian wanted to look away. But one could not show such rudeness to the Emperor.
"You are the child of Marian and me."
Damian wanted to punch him in the face. For the first time since his regression, he felt his patience on the verge of exploding.
Holding a blank expression while facing him was the most Damian could manage.
One moment wallowing in memories of his mother alone, the next spouting nonsense about believing in Damian.
Damian didn't want to blame all his pre-regression misfortunes on Lucas—that would make him feel too pathetic.
But his anger toward Lucas didn't vanish.
Damian could not acknowledge this man.
If they weren't connected by blood, he wouldn't feel these emotions at all.
"The old fogeys in the Imperial Council were desperate to pin blame on you, but with my eyes wide open, how could they?"
"I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty's mercy."
Damian thought no such thing. Even without Lucas's help, he could have handled the Council just fine.
"You're like Marian inside and out. If you'd been a daughter, would you have taken after me...?"
At those words, Damian felt relief for the first time since meeting Lucas.
If Lucas had said he resembled him... Damian might have committed treason right there.
"Marian Renekht. Damian Renekht. The names have a fine ring. 'Renekht' was the first gift I gave Marian."
Lucas emptied his teacup.
Kyle, standing quietly behind, moved to refill it, but Lucas waved him off.
At last, this damned meeting was drawing to a close.
"Live freely, Damian. Pursue what you desire. That is the life suited to you."
"I shall strive not to bring shame to Your Imperial Majesty's name."
"Heh heh. It's been ages since we last met, so you must not have been at ease. Is there anything you wish to ask of me?"
This was what Damian had been waiting for. If Lucas hadn't opened his mouth first, Damian would have broached the subject himself, even at the risk of rudeness.
After enduring this man's endless drivel, he had to gain something from it.
"I wish to take a few ancient tomes from Your Majesty's library."
"Ah, yes. Your hobby is collecting old books, isn't it? Marian had a fondness for antiques too. She said they carried the patina of time."
Damian bowed to Lucas one last time and followed Kyle to the library.
Lucas, who had been waving lazily, slumped over as if collapsing into sleep.
He had once possessed talents noteworthy even in the Magic Tower in his youth, but no trace of that remained now.
Damian wanted to become Emperor.
It was the ultimate revenge, and honestly, he didn't think his half-brothers were superior to him.
But he hadn't yet decided what kind of Emperor he would be.
One thing was crystal clear, though.
He would not become like this man. He would not abandon duty and responsibility to live in listless idleness.
"This way, Master Damian."
The library Damian entered under Kyle's guidance.
Like the ruins of the collapsed tower, it was one of the places in the palace storing the Books of Hell.
'The collection is larger than last time I came.'
Damian had visited here during the height of the civil war.
Naturally, the residence had been half-destroyed, and he had salvaged only two Books of Hell: Mem.
But now, there were not only the two Mem, but also one each of Gimel, Dalet, and Nun. And beyond that...
'Vav?'
There was a Book of Hell - ו(Vav) that he hadn't obtained before regression.
A haul equivalent to what he'd gained from the Hashashin hideout.
Considering this library held only books presented to the Emperor, it wasn't surprising to find multiple Books of Hell here.
By the time Damian had visited pre-regression, it had already been ransacked once.
The corners of his mouth lifted naturally.
This level of reward made up for the horrific time spent with Lucas.
Learning a new type of black magic was only the second time since his regression. A thrill separate from revenge pulsed through his heart.
Damian selected a total of six Books of Hell and some decoy ancient tomes, placing them in his subspace pouch.
After leaving the residence, another carriage took him back to the annex.
"""Welcome back, Master Damian."""
As if they had known in advance of his arrival at the palace, Anna and Felix led all the annex servants in greeting him.
"Master Damian."
Anna stepped forward. A beaming smile on her face.
But Damian knew it masked a torrent of emotions.
She threw her arms around him in a hug.
The size difference between them was stark. Damian leaned in only enough not to burden her.
"You have something to say to me, don't you?"
"I'm sorry for not telling you the truth."
"When we heard, Felix and I—and everyone in the annex—thought we might faint."
She spoke calmly now that Damian's safety was confirmed, but her worry still seeped through.
He had only told them he was hiding his identity to adventure as a mercenary in the south.
He couldn't reveal his full plans.
It was for his sake, but also for Anna and Felix's.
He didn't want to put them in danger. Once was enough.
"I didn't notice before, but Master Damian, you really do resemble Lady Marian. She used to throw us into a panic just like this, time and again."
Anna, Felix, and all the annex servants who had known Marian wore gentle smiles.
Unlike with Lucas, Damian felt a warm glow in his chest.
These people were far closer to family than that wretched man.
"Oh, Master Damian, some guests have come looking for you."
As the servants stepped aside, a girl emerged from behind.
"I trust you've been well, Master Damian. You've grown even more in the time we haven't seen each other."
It was Agnes. Since their last meeting, she had grown out her hair, and her sleek black locks swayed above her shoulders.
"You look healthy too. I'm glad."
It wasn't just her appearance that had changed. Even without drawing her sword, her aura alone revealed her growth.
If the Hashashin had charged her head-on, three or four wouldn't have been her match.
But one couldn't always fight from an advantageous position.
Many forgot this and paid with their lives, but Agnes had upheld it.
Pain that didn't lead to death only made one stronger.
Damian could imagine how harshly she had pushed herself since recovering.
Yet her eyes brimmed with vitality. Beyond revenge, she now had reason to move forward.
At this point, he couldn't help but covet her.
A woman who would have claimed the title of Empire's Greatest Swordsman without Michael.
If she joined his side, it would be a tremendous boon.
Setting aside their relationship, she had ample reason to side with him.
Neither reformists nor orthodox factions stood for the Empire's subjects. That greater cause, at least, lay with Damian.
"It's all thanks to you, Master Damian."
Agnes placed her hand over Damian's. Paradoxically, her calluses conveyed a softness.
Squeals erupted quietly from Anna and the other female servants fond of romance.
"A-ah, my apologies."
It seemed an unconscious act; she blushed and withdrew her hand. More squeals followed.
"Weren't there two guests?"
Damian turned to Anna and Felix. Their faces darkened, and they hesitated to reply. The other servants did the same.
"?
Agnes, unaware of the other guest's identity, looked around in confusion.
She quickly sensed the awkwardness.
So, who could it be?
'Surely not Rubia?'
That would be the worst-case scenario, but unlikely.
She was currently studying at the Magic Tower. Leaving for anything beyond letters would be difficult.
-Finally here, you bastard!!
A sudden shout from the woods.
Birds burst into flight with a flutter. All eyes turned that way.
It wasn't an ordinary roar. Mana was clearly infused in the voice.
"Master Damian?"
Sensing something amiss, Agnes reached for him. Damian turned toward it, but suddenly a straight line etched into the empty air.
Crack-crack-crack-crack!! The air shattered into countless fragments like a massive glass window.
"--."
Agnes opened her mouth to speak, but no sound reached them.
The others noticed the anomaly and approached, but they too could only gaze at Damian beyond the shards.
"You ungrateful wretch. Do you know how much hell you've put me through?"
The voice came from the sky. Looking up, a man in a wide-brimmed conical hat and robe gazed down.
"Ezekiel?"
"Heh. You haven't forgotten my face. What an honor."
The eccentric Ezekiel.
Once Damian's magic tutor, if only briefly.
"Why are you here?"
"Why? Got a problem with me being here? I'm Ezekiel, the world's freest soul of a mage. No place on this continent I can't go."
True to his moniker, the man's whereabouts were unpredictable.
Yet his magical prowess ranked among the Empire's elite—which was why he could cause such a commotion even in the palace.
From the Empire's perspective, they were simply relieved he caused no major trouble.
"More importantly, you've changed a lot, haven't you? Body, eyes, everything. Heard you've been having quite the fun time lately."
Damian hadn't spent much time with Ezekiel. Still, he knew one thing for sure: the man was utterly self-centered.
Even he had taken interest in Damian's changes and deeds. As surprising as Lucas's attention.
"I have plenty of questions, but prying isn't my style."
Ezekiel extended both hands forward.
"First, let's see your skills."
With those words, the sky and earth swapped places.