Clack, clack.
Inside the worn-out carriage, where the sound of hooves echoed.
A man slowly opened his eyes, as if coming to his senses. Awaiting him was another man with ashen-gray hair, seated and absorbed in a stack of papers.
The man with gray hair turned his head as he sensed the other’s movents.
“Awake?”
The first man froze at the question. He quickly realized that his body was bound, and he lifted his head.
He began to study the man before him in detail.
Gray eyes and ashen hair. Scars on his face and clothes only a noble would wear. His features were so perfect one might believe he was a gift from the gods. It didn’t take long for him to recognize the man’s identity.
Abel Hardenberg.
Head of the Hardenberg family and one of the four dukes of the Empire, Abel was the most influential among them. Known as the Iron-Blooded Duke, he was a dangerous figure, so much so that even the Imperial Family kept a watchful eye on him.
“You are…”
“Don’t tell you don’t know who I am.”
At Abel’s words, the man slowly nodded.
“Why am I… in a place like this?”
“If you think you can play dumb, I suggest you give up, Emperor’s Sword.”
“…How…?”
The man looked at him, shocked. The identity of the Emperor’s Sword was a highly classified secret of the Imperial Family. This role, which dealt not only with noble traitors but also carried out all manner of dirty deeds under the Emperor’s command, was known as the Emperor’s Sword. How on earth did Abel know about this?
Seeing his bewildered expression, Abel let out a sigh and spoke.
“Luke von Schufenheim.”
At the ntion of his na, the man—Luke—jerked, and then strained against the chains that bound him.
The more he struggled, the tighter the chains beca. They seed to be enchanted, even suppressing the aura emanating from his body.
Abel continued, watching him.
“Luke von Asrich’s son, the second prince. After becoming a Swordmaster, you were publicly declared dead to beco the Emperor’s Sword.”
Abel recited this information with a nonchalant expression, almost as if mocking Luke’s resistance.
“The Emperor branded you and turned you into the Imperial Family’s dog, using your family as collateral.”
“You…!”
Luke spat out in rage, glaring at him. Abel, seemingly unaffected by the intense gaze, responded in a calm voice.
“Did I say sothing wrong?”
“Grr…”
Unable to break free from the chains, Luke suppressed the anger boiling from within. Abel, watching him, chuckled and spoke up.
“I’ll give you one chance.”
“…What?”
Luke scowled at Abel’s offer and questioned him.
“How long will you continue being the Imperial Family’s dog?”
“So… are you telling to abandon my family?”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Abel’s response, delivered without the slightest hesitation, made Luke laugh bitterly.
Who could so casually suggest abandoning family? The title of Iron-Blooded Duke certainly wasn’t just for show.
“What absurd nonsense…”
“It’s best to listen until the end, Second Prince.”
Extending a hand towards him, Abel asked,
“How far has the mark’s erosion progressed?”
“How do you…?”
“You think I’d know about the Emperor’s Sword and not sothing as basic as that? Answer .”
“...About halfway.”
“You’ve held out well up to this point.”
Abel spoke in a tone of admiration.
The mark of the Emperor’s Sword was powerful enough that an ordinary mind couldn’t endure it for even a month.
To withstand the mark’s erosion for years—it would be impossible without an unbreakable spirit.
“Luke von Schufenheim.”
“…What?”
“I plan to overturn the Imperial Family.”
“…What?”
Luke frowned, taken aback by Abel’s sudden declaration. To openly say such a thing to the Emperor’s Sword himself—what was he thinking?
“Compared to starting a rebellion, rescuing a noblewoman from the Imperial Family shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“…Are you serious?”
“If you refuse to cooperate, your life ends here. And we both know what would happen to your mother after that.”
There wasn’t a hint of deception in Abel’s voice.
“…Tsk.”
“Choose. Will you work with to bring down the Imperial Family, or will you die here for nothing?”
It wasn’t much of a choice.
The options Abel offered were nothing short of coercion. Luke gritted his teeth and glared at him.
“…So this was your plan all along.”
“Who knows? That’s for you to decide.”
“…Fine. I accept your proposal.”
“Good. Now there won’t be any need for bloodshed here.”
With that, Abel produced a docunt from thin air. It was a contract, seemingly prepared in advance. He held it up, allowing Luke to read the contents.
Luke skimd the contract with his eyes, and the further down he read, the more his hands began to tremble.
“Isn’t it reasonable enough?”
“…You… you had everything planned from the start.”
Luke looked at Abel, his expression one of horror. Abel rely smirked and answered his unspoken question.
“It depends on how you look at it.”
Luke fell silent, deep in thought.
The Imperial Family would never release his mother. They would keep her as a hostage and use him as the Emperor’s Sword for the rest of his life.
In that case, aiding Abel’s rebellion seed a better option. A slight chance of freedom was better than a life of servitude to the Empire.
“…Fine. I’ll take a chance with you.”
“A wise choice.”
Luke’s mana flowed into the contract, followed by Abel’s. The contract quivered montarily from the mana’s energy before calming down.
The agreent was sealed. Abel skimd the docunt briefly before addressing Luke.
“Now, return to the Imperial Family to avoid suspicion. Show this emblem to the information guild on any day you choose each month to exchange intel.”
Thud.
An emblem fell from the air. It was a rusty brown dallion shaped like a lock.
“The chains are released. Go on.”
“…What?”
Before Luke could fully comprehend Abel’s sudden words, he opened the carriage door. The carriage began to slow.
Realizing the chains binding him had indeed loosened, Luke stood up.
“…You’d better honor the contract.”
“Of course. That’s why we signed it, isn’t it?”
Luke sighed and stepped out of the carriage. In front of him was a rest stop filled with other carriages. Had Abel brought him here for a swift return to the Imperial Palace?
Turning back, he saw the worn-out carriage already fading into the distance.
***
Pillars adorned in gold and chandeliers. Ceilings carved with unique patterns, an opulent golden carpet stretching across the floor. In front of the wall stood a statue of a man, and before the statue, a grand throne.
On that throne sat a man with golden hair.
He rested his chin on the armrest, gazing down with an air of authority and arrogance, creating an atmosphere that seed untouchable by anyone.
His na was Yude von Schufenheim.
The 16th Emperor of the Arie Empire, also known as the Emperor of Conquest.
“So… this matter was only half a success, is that right?”
At the Emperor’s words, Luke swallowed and bowed his head.
“It was my failing, Your Majesty.”
“Is that so…”
With an unreadable smile, he reached out toward Luke. In that instant, the mark on Luke’s neck began to burn. The searing pain forced a groan from him.
“Urgh…”
“There is always a price for deceit.”
The Emperor murmured, then gave a command to Luke.
“Sever the ring finger of your left hand.”
Luke’s body moved beyond his control. His hand drew his sword, and without hesitation, he swung it down toward his left ring finger.
Slash.
“Gah…”
Blood gushed from the severed finger, and the Emperor watched with a satisfied smile.
“Withdraw.”
“…Yes.”
Luke bowed and exited the audience chamber. Watching his retreating form, the head attendant turned to the Emperor.
“Your Majesty, may I ask sothing?”
“Speak.”
“Why did you not pursue the truth further?”
“Hmm… who knows.”
The Emperor let out a small laugh and replied.
“Doesn’t a little rebellion from a re rat intrigue you, even just a bit?”
A twisted smile crept onto his face as he spoke.
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