The capital, Grandera, had fallen silent.
Once a lively hub of activity, it had beco somber. The streets that used to echo with laughter were now quiet. The market was deserted, and even those who had once road the roads drunk had disappeared. The red-light districts, too, had lost their usual crowd.
The news that the Emperor was on his deathbed had spread like wildfire. Those who needed to know the news already had, and those, who shouldn’t have heard the rumors, sohow did.
The atmosphere was grim.
All eyes were on the Emperor’s deteriorating health. His inability to drink water for days and his shallow breathing made it clear to anyone that his ti was near.
“Your Highness. I offer my early congratulations.”
The Third Prince, Edmund von Illumina, nodded with a blank expression. Though he had been shedding tears just monts ago as he grasped his father’s hand, his deanor shifted the mont he returned to his room.
The tears had dried and a hint of joy even flashed across his face.
Soon, he would ascend to the throne and beco the Emperor.
He would stand at the pinnacle of the Empire, nominally holding power over the lives of his subjects.
It was an ironic twist of fate, for he had been the son of the third consort. He had once been incredibly distant from the line of succession, but with the legitimate heirs—Ardein and Arsein—now removed from the equation, the throne was his for the taking.
“Your Grace. Your words were inappropriate. How can I accept congratulations when my imperial father is passing away?”
Although Edmund had nodded clearly, his words were full of eloquence.
Duke Valder, the leader of the Temple faction and the current Emperor’s brother, chuckled softly. He was one of Edmund’s most prominent supporters and was quite pleased with his nephew’s actions.
In contrast, the forr Crown Prince, Arsein, had been a thorn in the side of the Temple.
Though he was always polite, Arsein was detached and impartial, handling matters with a cold, unfeeling deanor. He had been challenging to sway and troubleso to deal with, and the Temple did not want him to inherit the throne.
What did it matter if Edmund was black-hearted and greedy? To Duke Valder, he was far more preferable to Arsein.
Edmund’s ambition made him easier to control. With him on the throne, the Temple could gain wealth and influence. Edmund would happily do what the Temple wanted as long as his desires were satisfied.
Uncle. Are you looking down on too, because I’m the child of a concubine?
But in truth, Duke Valder’s perspective was his own.
To him, Edmund was an obedient tool, a dog to be trained and controlled, yet Duke Valder knew he had not fully grasped the weight of the power he would soon wield.
Edmund’s main goal was only to secure power. He needed the Temple’s support right now, so he always greeted Duke Valder as “Imperial Uncle,” showing his respect.
We’ll see about that.
But Edmund wasn’t sure if he would continue to act this way once he beca Emperor.
He quickly pushed that thought aside. Right now, his main goal was to beco Emperor and take control.
After gaining enough support, he could weaken the Duke by giving him a small territory and sending him away. By then, the Temple would realize they had made a mistake by supporting him.
He wasn’t sure when that day would co.
But for now, Edmund still needed the Duke’s help. He was not strong enough to fight the other claimants to the throne by himself.
“It would be great if you could take the throne peacefully, Your Highness, but that’s not likely, is it?”
“Legitimacy. That cursed legitimacy is always a problem. Who cares if you’re born from the main wife or a concubine?”
The Third Prince frowned. He was the son of a consort, but so were all the other princes and princesses. Only Ardein and Arsein were the children of the Empress, the official first wife.
Even if the prince and princess had fallen or t a worse fate, the stigma of being born to a concubine would remain on the Third Prince. Duke Valder cleared his throat as he, too, had taken concubines.
“The Fifth Prince, Arlein, is one of the biggest threats. Though he doesn’t have outstanding talents, his mother, the First Consort, is the daughter of Count Marcus.”
Count Marcus Feltman.
He was known as Count Marcus, not Count Feltman, because his fa overshadowed that of his family.
Born into a fallen house whose title had beco aningless, he was a capable man who revived his family through his ability. Before his rise, most people didn’t even know the Feltman family existed.
This border Count, a giant in the Empire’s south, was a self-made man. Amidst the chaos of the Empire, he provided jobs and salaries to wanderers, carrying out large-scale projects to generate profits.
He gathered wanderers, gave them settlents, and enlisted the heads of households as soldiers in exchange for land, forming a large private army. He could quickly mobilize over 100,000 soldiers if needed, making him untouchable in the currently unstable political situation.
Though he ruled like a king in the South, Count Marcus was also a necessary evil. If he were to disappear, the southern Kingdom of Solvent would not give up the chance it had been waiting for and would strike like a wildcat, tearing away part of the Empire’s territory.
In tis of chaos, those with military power were the ones who genuinely held the most power. Count Marcus was a rare figure—he had both military authority and personal martial skills. The people in the southern territories knew his na, even if they didn’t know the Emperor.
This was because the Empire’s vast size made maintaining control in distant regions hard, but in so ways, that wasn’t a bad thing.
“We gave him the position of Border Count to protect the Empire, but he is using that power to threaten his master. However, in the end, he’s just a watchdog. He won’t be able to rebel.”
How difficult would it be for the Empire to send generals and recruit soldiers from the distant provinces to form an army? And how much would it drain the treasury?
The direct rule seed ideal, but it wasn’t as effective as letting local leaders manage defense. However, this could only work if Count Marcus stayed loyal to the Empire and the imperial family.
“Marcus Feltman. Would soone as ambitious as him rebel? Even if he did, who would support him with the Temple backing us? The center’s authority still stands, and no one wants to destroy the Empire. Everyone makes money from their own positions and covets power, but no one dares to cross the line.”
The prince’s confidence was grounded in reality. A rebellion would destroy the fragile balance that had barely been maintained.
No one wanted such a scenario. To the east, the Odal Empire was advancing, while to the west, the newly-ford Demon Empire grew stronger. The elves in the southeast remained neutral, and the southern Kingdom of Solvent expanded by invading nearby kingdoms. It wouldn’t be long before it could declare itself an empire.
Even if soone overthrew the imperial family and took control of the Empire, they would quickly face the problem of stopping Harmael. The Empire’s forces would be too weak from civil war to handle that. That was the worst-case scenario everyone feared.
“Your Highness, we can’t be too optimistic. Instead of assuming what choices the Count might make because of his desire for power, it’s better to be cautious from the start.”
The ambitious people in each region likely did not want to destroy the Empire. They probably wouldn’t consider changing the imperial family.
They would want to keep the Illumina bloodline on the throne and try to manipulate the Emperor from behind the scenes. The “Imperial Uncle” in front of him was the type of person who would do that.
Of course, that was assuming everyone would act rationally. People were more driven by their desires than they wanted to admit. If that weren’t true, assassins wouldn’t exist.
“Of course, you can worry about that after ascending the throne.”
Duke Valder let the words linger.
“Your Highness... I won’t be calling you that for much longer. You’ll soon be Emperor. I just hope you rember the price the Temple paid to get you there.”
Edmund’s eyes turned cold, but he smiled.
He couldn’t forget. These people had conspired to kill the Crown Prince. They could do the sa to him, but that wouldn’t be easy.
An Emperor and a Crown Prince were different, just like a Crown Prince and a Prince had various levels of power. The Empire had secret forces loyal only to the Emperor, but even the Emperor himself couldn’t control them.
They guarded the Emperor, but they didn’t follow his orders.
The first Emperor created these secret forces to protect the Empire if the Emperor ever lost public support, ran out of money, or power.
Once a monarch loses absolute control, they can’t regain it and enemies often infiltrate the forces that should protect him.
If I beco the Emperor, I will gain control over the imperial family’s magic defenses and the dragon veins. Once all the hidden powers in the Empire swear loyalty to , I can negotiate equally with the Temple behind my uncle.
These powers didn’t listen to the Emperor during peaceti. They only acted in tis of crisis.
This was partly why the Crown Prince, Arsein, was assassinated so quickly. The main reason was that everyone—both the nobles and the Temple—wanted him dead, but it also happened because the secret forces within the imperial family lowered their protection once he was no longer the Crown Prince.
These forces didn’t serve just one Emperor. They served the imperial family. No matter who beca Emperor, these forces would follow as long as they carried the Illumina na.
If a prince assassinated a legally appointed Crown Prince, it would be considered rebellion. However, killing another prince was just part of the succession struggle.
The first Emperor established rules strictly prohibiting these secret forces from interfering in the Empire’s succession struggles. Allowing them to interfere would waste the Empire’s power on internal strife.
The first Emperor didn’t see his descendants fighting each other as a negative thing. He believed that the winner of the succession struggle must have so ability and thought it was better than an incompetent person inheriting the throne.
“Now you should return. You’ve been away for too long.”
Edmund nodded. His brothers and sisters were already crying by the fallen Emperor’s side. Such action was necessary for any mber of the imperial family, but so were going too far.
“Father! Your Majesty! Please open your eyes! If you pass away like this, I, too, will bash my head on the ground and accompany you. I will accompany you so that your journey will not be lonely!”
Everyone secretly grimaced as Arlein banged his head on the ground. Edmund felt the sa as he watched.
The Emperor was dying, so who was Arlein trying to show his filial piety to? His short-sightedness clarified why he wasn’t fit to be part of the succession struggle, even though he was a prince.
If the Emperor passed away, the fifth Prince would be left powerless and likely sold as a hostage to a foreign country.
“Huh?”
Grand Duke Valder suddenly frowned.
Though he didn’t speak loudly, considering the place, he shouted sternly.
“What’s all this noise? Who dares cause a disturbance at a ti like this? Whoever it is should be beheaded as an example!”
His words froze the air, but a powerful pressure suddenly spread from a distance, making everyone’s hair stand on end.
This pressure was the Draconic Aura, a power all royals had the potential to use.
Master...?
Even with the dragon veins, one could only improve faster. They still faced the sa wall everyone faced before reaching the Master level, but this power was that of a fully fledged Master.
What’s going on? Has a royal beco a Master?
W-who? Which one is it?
Edmund’s relaxed expression quickly changed. If this pressure ca from one of the princes or princesses, a powerful new competitor had appeared.
A royal Master would be the first royal to inherit part of the founding Emperor’s legacy. Their legitimacy alone, even without power, was a threat.
“Move aside! You think you can stop from seeing my Father?!”
Edmund’s expression darkened as he heard the voice of the one using the Draconic Aura.
This ti, he couldn’t keep his composure. He staggered without realizing it, but thankfully, no one noticed his unsteady movents. Those who recognized the voice were shocked.
“A-Ardein?”
Bang!
The door burst open and a woman rushed in, eyes filled with tears. No one paid any attention to that though. What mattered was that life was suddenly overflowing from her body that had been decaying. Armata, the high priest who worshipped the goddess Hillai, froze in surprise, his prayer interrupted.
“F-Father...!”
But she couldn’t focus on her father now. Her eyes were fixed on the bed in the center, and her mother, crying beside him.
The Empress, wiping her tears with a handkerchief, was so shocked to see Ardein that she collapsed onto the floor. The maids scread and rushed to help her.
“Is it you...? Ardein. Have you returned? Is this... a dream?”
“Mother... Mother...”
“You wretched girl! Do you know how much it broke my heart when you left without a word? Do you know how much your father worried about you?”
The Empress imdiately recognized her daughter, who looked even younger than before her illness, almost as if she had been nourished by the Goddesses themselves. Of course, she knew her — this was her flesh and blood. How many tis had she rembered how her child looked before the illness took its toll?
“Even a girl like you... is still my daughter. God has let see you again before I follow your father in death.”
With those words, the Empress raised her hand and slapped her cheek hard.
The slap echoed through the room, leaving everyone stunned. The sobbing Empress placed her hand on the Princess’s chest, whimpering.
“But... this is no dream. You... you ca back, and the illness that tornted you... It’s gone. I don’t know what miracle you’ve encountered, but you ca here quickly. Show him your face once before he leaves us forever.”
Unable to hold back her tears, the Empress finally burst into sobs.
“He said so many tis he wanted to see you cured. We should fulfill his wish before he goes. Your Majesty... it’s . Please, open your eyes. Our child... Ardein has returned. She’s returned with her illness gone and her skin beautiful... Your Majesty, our daughter has returned...”
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