Chapter 143 - The Crown Prince's Intent

The imperial insignia adorned their armor, trimmed with silver and gold.

Unlike the knight who had come before, there were no owl feathers decorating their helmets, and their numbers had swelled to a full three hundred including the soldiers.

It meant they had come carrying authority far beyond that of a mere messenger.

"I greet the Consort of the Great Flame! I am Sir Gogen, Swift Knight of the Imperial Direct Command Unit."

"What is your purpose here?"

Ferda openly displayed his displeasure.

"I have come to proclaim a message from His Highness the Crown Prince. May I borrow the podium?"

"The Festival of the Beginning of Spring is in full swing. If it is bad news, I would rather hear it later."

"You need not worry. It is nothing that will ruin this festival."

After responding so slowly, throwing bad news at them out of nowhere would certainly be strange.

Ferda stopped trying to compete in a battle of wills and allowed him to use the platform.

As the nobles stood around in a hazy daze, the knight raised his voice.

"I came here to enjoy the Festival of the Beginning of Spring, yet an unfortunate incident occurred and an unexpected crisis arose. Every one of you stepped forward without hesitation!"

Quite a few people shot him dissatisfied looks.

Everyone already knew that Alexander had responded far too late.

"Your devotion has contributed not only to the Far East but also to the defense of the Empire itself. Therefore, we hold your achievements in the highest regard. Thus, I, Alexander Arken, acting on behalf of His Imperial Majesty, formally invite all of you to the Imperial Palace for a grand banquet!"

Everyone's eyes widened.

Their reaction was even greater than when they had first heard the Far East was under siege.

"A banquet at the Imperial Palace..."

"Isn't it said to be the most magnificent place in the Empire?"

Every young noble dreamed of the Empire Dream, and whenever such an opportunity presented itself, it was enough to make anyone lose their composure.

They had already been treated generously in the Far East, and now they were being invited to another grand reception at the Imperial Palace.

Who would refuse such an offer?

So that was why they rushed here in such a hurry.

Their real objective was to hijack the festival.

As proof, the festival had originally been planned for two days, but the second day had been transformed into a day for sobering up, reflecting on oneself, and recovering instead of feasting and drinking to exhaustion.

Ferda, however, paid it little mind.

The festival had never been part of the original schedule to begin with, and Ferda was never the type to enjoy entertaining guests.

If anything, he simply wished they would leave as soon as possible.

Still, it didn't seem likely that they had rushed all the way here for only that.

Olivia's words from yesterday continued to echo in Ferda's ears.

"Regent, I have something I need to discuss with Marquis Vernel..."

Just as I thought.

"Will you permit us to meet him?"

"The Chief Researcher is busy at the moment."

"This is something that must be conveyed to him personally."

The knight's persistence made Ferda frown.

His intentions were painfully obvious.

"Do not make me repeat myself. Vernel is currently overseeing a crucial project directly related to the development of this territory."

"Marquis Vernel has the right to hear the Crown Prince's message as one of His Majesty's subjects. Even Regent Ferda cannot prevent that."

The commander's eyes were anything but ordinary.

If Ferda continued to obstruct him, it seemed he was prepared to accuse him of insulting the Imperial Family.

"I shall yield."

"Thank you."

"However, I would like one promise. No matter what happens, do not hold anyone responsible."

"There is no need to worry. Why would there be any serious consequences from merely delivering a message?"

"If that is so, then I appreciate it."

Ferda obediently accompanied him to the laboratory where Vernel was working.

When they knocked on the laboratory door, Vernel slowly emerged.

The morning sunlight flooded into what was little different from a dark room, causing him to scowl deeply.

Anyone would think he had just woken up, but the enormous dark circles beneath his eyes insisted he had been staying awake for days.

"Uh... what brings you here?"

"These people wished to see you. Please spare us a moment."

"Does it have to be now? At the moment I'm a little..."

"I'm sorry for interrupting your work. Just five minutes."

"...Sigh... All right."

Clearly unwilling, Vernel allowed himself to be dragged outside.

Watching his attitude, the imperial knight smiled strangely.

Clearing his throat, he unfolded a document.

"Marquis Vernel! By the command of Alexander Arken, Regent of the Empire and representative of the Imperial Family! In recognition of your tremendous contributions in the technological field during this war, you are to be awarded a medal and the title of Count. Therefore, we ask that you board the Imperial carriage and accompany us to the Empire!"

It was utterly transparent.

They claimed they wished to reward his achievements, but their real intention was obvious.

They wanted to take away the Far East only engineer who truly understood Magitech Engineering.

Ferda was filled with the urge to overturn everything right then and there, but Vernel spoke first.

"Uh... so... you're asking me to attend?"

He answered with sleepy, unfocused eyes.

Apparently caught off guard by the unexpected response, the commander awkwardly continued.

"That is correct. You shall accompany me and—"

"Um... I'm sorry, but... would it be all right if I didn't go?"

"W-What did you say?"

Clearly, none of them had ever considered the possibility of refusal.

Vernel scratched his head wearily.

"You intend to reject the goodwill of the Regent of the Empire and representative of the Imperial Family?"

"It's just... this is an incredibly busy time... I really don't have time to fool around. Besides, unless it's an order directly from His Imperial Majesty, I don't think I'm actually required to attend..."

"But His Highness is destined to become the next Emperor. Such disrespect—"

"The next Emperor. He's not the Emperor right now, is he? I'm already busy enough as it is. I need to use my brain."

Vernel muttered like a man drained of both energy and hope.

"If I go somewhere else now, I'll definitely forget what I was working on. Then I'll just end up worrying... and if I worry, I won't get any work done... sigh."

Annoyed by the pounding in his head, Vernel vigorously scratched at his hair.

After letting out another sigh, he looked at the imperial knight.

The commander stared at him in disbelief.

"You refuse an audience over such a trivial reason?"

"Uh... I... guess so? It probably sounds trivial to people from the Imperial Palace. Medals and noble titles are nice and all, but I don't really need them. I'd rather do the work that only I can do. That's why. I'll decline."

Having driven the point home, he nodded toward Ferda.

"My apologies, Regent. I'm completely stuck right now, so I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

"Not at all. The fault lies with me for summoning you at a time like this."

"Anyway... I'll be going now. Sorry."

Muttering to himself, Vernel shut the door behind him.

Even after hearing and witnessing it personally, the commander still couldn't believe it.

Whenever people met an imperial knight, they usually became nervous first, and when praised for their achievements, they invariably responded with excitement and gratitude.

Vernel's attitude had gone beyond mere rudeness into an entirely new realm.

Ferda decided he might as well make one final point.

"You promised that no one would be held responsible. So I trust there will be no pointless complaints."

***

The next day, the young masters and young ladies awoke from their hangovers.

Dressed neatly in elegant noble attire, they all gathered outside the city gates with excited expressions.

The Empire itself had acknowledged them.

The young nobles had their contributions recognized simply for participating in the battle, while the strategists and the courageous knights had even been promised medals.

Officially, four people from Valdrova Castle were recognized for their achievements.

Chief Engineer Marquis Vernel.

Administrator Hestia, Isabella Iorga.

William, commander of the Public Security Force, who had established the foundation of Tactical Infantry tactics.

And finally, Regent Ferda.

Isabella had been recognized because, as a Five-Circle Mage, she had played the decisive role in defeating the colossal monster.

Echidna had contributed similarly, but they explained that her name had been omitted because she was a Witch and therefore could not be admitted into the castle.

Ferda had never intended to send her anyway.

She had only come to the castle because of Zed, and if she reached the Imperial Palace, who knew what kind of persuasion they might use on her?

Vernel had already refused, so there was no need to ask him again.

Isabella declared that she held no expectations of the Imperial Palace and would devote herself entirely to her duties as Administrator, declining the invitation.

Ferda politely refused for the same reason.

In the end, only William would travel to the Imperial Palace.

"Is it truly all right for me to go?"

Even aside from this achievement, William was a highly desirable talent.

He had been Duke Yurei's finest subordinate, possessed remarkable charisma, and had all the qualities of an excellent knight.

Though he had betrayed his former lord.

"If even you refuse, it would be no different from declaring ourselves enemies."

"I suppose you're right. It seems I'll have to bear that burden..."

His expression lacked confidence.

Ferda made no attempt to persuade him.

Instead, he left him with only one final piece of advice.

"Follow what your heart tells you."

After hesitating for some time, William finally decided to represent Hestia Village and journey to the Empire.

Morning had arrived, and the imperial standard-bearers prepared to depart.

Before everything truly began, Ferda sought out one person.

"Princess."

Olivia Arken.

The pure, unadorned face she had worn as a warrior had returned to that of a splendid imperial princess.

"Did you call me because you wanted to see me?"

She smiled with her eyes as she made a teasing remark that could easily be misunderstood.

Only because no one else was nearby.

"Do you truly believe this will allow you to enter politics?"

He knew the nature of the Empire.

That was precisely why he found it difficult to believe that even with such achievements, she would truly be able to enter the political arena.

"Don't worry."

Olivia smiled gently.

Yet the confidence that had once filled that smile was gone.

It almost felt as though she herself already anticipated defeat.

Ferda handed her something.

"What is this?"

"Administrator Hestia compiled this report using the data from everyone who participated in the operation to objectively evaluate each person's contributions."

In truth, Mori had done it.

Still, because it had been calculated purely from objective data, its margin of error was narrower than what most experts could achieve.

Olivia's contribution amounted to an astonishing forty-five percent.

It would not be an exaggeration to say she had handled nearly everything herself.

The report even added that if her contributions to the development of the Far East had been included, her share would have easily surpassed fifty percent.

She seemed slightly flustered by the unexpected kindness.

After staring quietly at Ferda's face, she smiled warmly.

"Please tell the Administrator that I said thank you."

It was neither the smile she wore behind her mask nor the smile she had shown only to him.

Before he could even begin to search for its meaning, she stepped into the carriage.

Contrary to Ferda's expectation of a long journey to the Empire, the imperial mages prepared a massive Magic Circle in the open field.

Though it was some distance away, Ferda recognized exactly what that enormous Magic Circle being drawn upon the ground was.

A Teleport Door.

A spell that connected two separate locations, linking directly to the Empire's Arc de Triomphe.

The larger it became and the longer it remained open, the more Mana it consumed, but as with any grand national event, efficiency was always a secondary concern.

The enormous gate opened successfully, revealing the magnificent imperial boulevard beyond.

The people gathered in the streets erupted into cheers as they peered through the gate.

The young ladies and young masters could scarcely contain their excitement.

They felt as though they had become heroes from legends...

Or victorious generals returning after a glorious triumph.

Filled with the dreams and youthful passion of their childhood, they entered one after another.

As though winter had suddenly descended, bustling Hestia became silent in an instant.

Unlike the now-deserted Hestia, the warm spring sunlight gently touched Ferda's skin.

He quietly enjoyed its lingering warmth.

As the tension faded, drowsiness overtook him.

Thinking he might take a brief nap, he slowly closed his eyes.

At that moment, Luri's voice pierced his ears.

"Master has set out to subjugate the monsters."

His eyes snapped open.

He could tolerate many things—but never a fight.

***

The monsters had been waiting, ready to cross the line the moment an opportunity presented itself.

Several openly advanced, and Valdrova immediately moved to punish them.

Upon the blackened earth, amidst grotesque masses of corrupted flesh, a set of brilliant crimson scales alone shone brightly as they tore mercilessly through the enemy.

After all, they had remained in a standoff for an entire month.

During that long confrontation, frustration must have continued to build while her body longed for battle.

Now that all that pent-up energy had finally been unleashed, its ferocity was extraordinary.

Ferda took his seat.

Long ago, Luri had begun bringing out a tea table whenever Ferda watched Valdrova's battles from beginning to end.

"Would you like a cup?"

"Please."

Warming himself with black tea against the chill of the summit, he quietly watched her graceful figure.

As always, the battle ended in Valdrova's overwhelming victory.

The heat of the battlefield warmed Ferda's own body as well.

She'll return home now.

According to the pattern that had repeated itself countless times, that was what should happen.

Reluctantly accepting that he would only be able to watch a little longer, Ferda rose from his seat.

But this time was different.

Instead of spreading her wings and returning to her Lair, Valdrova stared fixedly toward the Lonely Mountain.

There was no mistake.

She was looking directly at Ferda.

Why?

No sooner had the question crossed his mind than her wings beat powerfully.

She flew not toward her Lair, but even higher.

Toward the summit of the Lonely Mountain.

Toward the place where Ferda stood.

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