In truth, it was only natural that the descendants of the Princes-Elector had not forgotten their Martial Spirit Hymns. Even in an age that revered Rings rather than hearts, the deeds and aspirations of their ancestors were far beyond the reach of the Rings' paltry powers. They would hardly abandon them so readily.

Indeed, the descendants of House Dortmund and the Azure Sky Knights had preserved the Marquis of the Azure Sky's [Poem of Creation] in its original form, even if the deeds and aspirations contained within it fell short of those of the past.

There was nothing strange, then, about the bloodline of Bourgogne remembering the deeds and aspirations of their ancestor, the [Marquis of Foresight]. The problem was the aptitude of the idiot babbling like a madman before me.

A legacy was never passed down to an unworthy vessel. Those who lacked the capacity to bear it were never taught it in the first place. The Third Imperial Prince was precisely such a case.

He had no capacity to bear a legacy. All he possessed were calamitous traits. Yet that idiot had brazenly unveiled part of a legacy before me.

It was unmistakably the legacy of the Marquis of Foresight, who had attained the rank of [Myth]. Under normal circumstances, invoking even a fragment of a legacy beyond his capacity should have left him writhing in the terrible agony of his soul unraveling. Yet he was perfectly fine.

That meant someone of Bourgogne blood had selected a fragment of the [Myth] and passed it on to him, precisely tailored to what he could bear. And that someone had to be the emperor.

I focused all my attention on discerning the emperor's intentions. Every previous attempt to fathom him had been as hopeless as groping for a path through darkness. Fortunately, this time was different.

The energy of the poem the Third Imperial Prince had recited without understanding still lingered nearby. I circulated my mana and drew it around me. In my mind, I went over the Martial Spirit Hymn of Bourgogne he had so ignorantly spouted, again and again.

「There are countless kings in this world, yet Bourgogne alone is the true king.」

The verses sang of the world's one true king, yet I could sense no grand ambition or aspiration in them. There was only blind praise and worship of Bourgogne.

I felt as though I had been struck on the back of the head. The poem's essence was utterly at odds with an imperial prince. It would have been more fitting to call it a slave's hymn to a master.

If I had to name something similar... Yes. A certain poem Adelia Bayern had offered me had been exactly like this.

[Poem of Subordination]

The verses differed, but their essence was identical, as if cast from the same mold. A slave's hymn to a master. A song closer to an oath than a Martial Spirit Hymn. A pledge of submission.

I studied him once more. An arrogant, conceited imperial prince. A lowly slave praising his master's greatness. Two utterly different identities that could never be one flickered back and forth.

As I stared blankly at him, a thought flashed through my mind. Something I could never have dared imagine had I been an ordinary human, but which occurred to me precisely because I was not. A hypothesis too terrible even to contemplate.

Perhaps, to the emperor, his heirs were nothing more than vessels to hold his power. Just as I, once a sword, had taken possession of this body and was passing myself off as human.

Gooseflesh rose all over my body. I struggled to shake off the ominous feeling. It was conjecture. An absurd leap of logic. I repeated that to myself countless times.

Yet the insight and intuition I had gained as an observer across long ages kept whispering to me. Remember the being who had climbed alone to lofty heights and looked down upon the world, in an age when such deeds could no longer be amassed. Wasn't it strange how closely his disposition resembled that of House Bourgogne's founder?

My own encounter with the emperor kept feeding my imagination. Then the Fifth Imperial Prince's recent proclamation joined it.

Inhuman depravity. Defiance of Heaven.

Everything pointed to the same truth.

"That should be answer enough."

By the time the Third Imperial Prince finally urged me to conclude the peace negotiations, I was certain. I could not know whether the emperor truly regarded his own flesh and blood as mere vessels. But at the very least, he clearly possessed a means of passing on his family's legacy and power, regardless of who inherited the throne.

That must have been why he acted as though it did not matter if the most foolish and greedy of them, the Third Imperial Prince, took the throne. Whoever became emperor, nothing would change.

"Will you not be satisfied until you have exhausted my patience? How long do you intend to drag out this farce of a meeting?"

The Third Imperial Prince again pressed me to conclude the peace negotiations. Rather than answer, I simply watched him.

TAP, TAP.

Drumming my fingers on the table, I considered what to do with him. Should I bolster his position as originally planned? Or should I kill him here to keep the emperor in check?

Some of my killing intent must have escaped while I deliberated.

CRACK.

Though not a breath of wind stirred in the clearing, the banners lining both sides swelled as though they would burst.

"Restrain your aura! We are here to discuss peace!"

Sensing the ominous pressure, the knights of Bourgogne put their hands on their sword hilts and shouted at me.

"How dare you reach for your swords in His Highness's presence!"

The one-eyed cavalry captain and the lancers snarled fiercely at the Imperial Knights.

"Your crown prince was the first to release his killing intent!"

"He was merely looking at you! Stop making baseless accusations!"

Shouts flew back and forth.

CLANG!

The knights on both sides drew swords and leveled spears at one another in unison. The peaceful conference was no more. The meeting ground had become so hostile that bloodshed could erupt at any moment.

HUMMMM.

The imperial Paladins unleashed their sword light with a clamorous display. Not to be outdone, the kingdom's Silver Lions infused their swords with energy. Killing intent and hostility surged in every direction. Tension filled the clearing.

BWOOOOOO.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

The armies on both sides hurried into motion, urgently blowing horns and beating drums.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The Third Imperial Prince, who had shrunk back in fear at the sudden hostility, belatedly protested.

"It is not too late! Restrain your aura and stand down!"

The imperial Paladins threatened me.

"You're mad. You must be mad to do this. You clearly want to see your own country burn. Otherwise, you would never behave like this out of nowhere!"

The Third Imperial Prince screamed at the top of his lungs that he would tolerate no further rash actions. He looked like nothing so much as a wretched dog barking in terror.

At the sight, my killing intent subsided as though it had never existed. I could not nip a potential catastrophe for the Empire in the bud on mere speculation. There would still be time to kill him once everything was certain.

"My seal."

At my words, Adelia, who had been waiting behind me, handed me the crown prince's seal. I smoothly picked up the treaty from the table and stamped it with my seal.

"Huh?"

The Third Imperial Prince made a foolish noise, apparently taken aback by my actions.

"What are you doing? Aren't you going to stamp it?"

Only after my indifferent remark did he press his own seal onto the treaty.

"A wise decision!"

He grinned broadly, as though he had never barked in terror.

"Today's decision has saved your kingdom..."

"Yes, I know."

I waved a hand at him as he immediately began blustering again.

"Now get the hell out."

If I kept looking at him, I might change my mind.

"H-how dare you..."

The Third Imperial Prince went red in the face and trembled. But he apparently had not forgotten who stood to lose if he caused a scene now that the peace negotiations were finally concluded. Grinding his teeth, he turned away.

"Hmph! Insolent bastard! You will regret this one day."

With that, the Third Imperial Prince left the clearing. The knights of Bourgogne disappeared after him. I watched them go, then turned and left as well.

A day later, the imperial legions began withdrawing from the border all at once. The kingdom's army and I kept a close watch on the frontier, prepared for any possible deception by the enemy. But nothing unexpected happened. After a week, there were no imperial troops left along the border.

The kingdom's Southern Army marched south, taking possession one by one of the imperial fortresses and territories ceded under the peace agreement. They redrew the border and prepared for the trials that would return.

But before that, it was time to rejoice in the victory the kingdom had finally achieved and savor the peace. Even if that peace would be short-lived.

"The Eastern Fleet is reportedly on its way home!"

Amid all this came news that the king and the Eastern Fleet, who had sailed for the Empire, had begun their journey home.

"I wonder what his face will look like when he sees how much the kingdom's territory has grown."

I pictured the king aboard a warship, sailing toward the kingdom even now, and chuckled. Yet the wait was not entirely pleasant.

The war was over, and peace had returned to the kingdom, but I still had work to do. The sooner the king returned, the sooner I could lay down my current burden and focus on that work. Not that he was likely to approve of my plan.

[The Leonberk Kingdom has won the war.]

A piece of war news arrived from the North. People were astonished that a weak frontier kingdom had withstood the Empire's onslaught. But the truly astonishing part was something else.

"The Empire has permanently ceded some of its border territories to the kingdom. I hear it paid enormous war reparations as well. That is virtually an admission of defeat."

The small northern kingdom had not merely held out. It had won so decisively that the Empire had acknowledged its own defeat. People marveled at the little nation's astonishing fight. At the same time, they began to question the Empire's underlying strength after this latest defeat, following two failed campaigns of conquest.

"No empire lasts forever."

A few of the more hasty among them even declared that the Empire's days were over and a new order would take hold on the continent. Considering that the Empire had plunged into civil war after repeated defeats, their rash words were not entirely unfounded.

The imperial civil war was indeed showing signs of dragging on. Backed by the Magic Tower, the Fifth Imperial Prince was gradually expanding his power from his base in the western Empire rather than rushing toward the imperial capital. Naturally, this meant constant battles with nobles loyal to the emperor.

The Third Imperial Prince was also leading his army back to the mainland. But he had marched so far out into the borderlands that it would take considerable time for his forces to reach the Fifth Imperial Prince's sphere of influence.

Seizing upon these developments, the smaller nations long held down by the Empire began to raise their heads one by one. None had openly rebelled against it yet, but their attitude toward the Empire had unmistakably changed. The political landscape of the continent had begun to shift in earnest.

"They say the eldest legitimate son of the Royal House of Leonberk is quite an outstanding young man."

As events across the continent moved rapidly, interest steadily grew in the war hero who had led a supposedly hopeless war to victory.

"I hear he deserves much of the credit for winning this war."

"And isn't he the youngest Paladin in the kingdom himself?"

"It seems the blood of his ancestor, the Lion of the North, still runs true."

People called the eldest legitimate son of the Royal House of Leonberk the Young Lion of the North, praising his valor and military achievements.

"From what I've heard, he is still single. Not even betrothed."

"How unfortunate that the kingdom's legitimate heir, its future ruler, has yet to find a bride."

Some even began hoping to forge family ties with the North's young war hero.

"Is the Young Lion of the North here..."

And a few had already moved swiftly to send matchmakers.