“Gotberg, don’t you have a new coat?”
As we stepped out of the colosseum, Asella, catching sight of sothing else displeasing, started picking a fight again in her usual cutting tone.
“My coat? Why?”
“It’s all wrinkled. His Majesty is attending—your attire should at least look decent.”
“I can’t help it. I’m on duty most of the day.”
“So what, should I go around without a dress at night?”
Well, Asella was always impeccably composed, without so much as a thread out of place.
“But Your Highness has attendants.”
“Mmm... True. Lucie.”
Even without her giving explicit orders, Lucie had already set the maids into motion. They began tidying up my appearance with impressive efficiency.
Within monts, my coat looked freshly pressed and stiffened. Did they have so kind of artifact for ironing? Convenient.
“Thank you, Head Maid.”
“Your gratitude belongs to Her Highness.”
Lucie answered curtly. She never dropped her businesslike tone while on duty.
“That’s much better. You looked half-dead just monts ago, like you were hungover.”
I guess it finally t her standards.
I blew my bangs out of my face with a puff of air.
“I’m just a barely-visible court physician, after all. As long as Your Highness looks perfect, that’s what matters.”
“You're my fiancé.”
“Well... you’re not wrong.”
I suppose I stood out more than the average physician.
Trying to outmaneuver Asella with words really was a losing battle.
“Your Highness, His Majesty will arrive shortly.”
Lucie gave the update.
Most royals had personal secretaries, but here in Moonlight Palace, Lucie pulled double duty.
At the teleport gate, several hundred knights ford up in ranks to create a ceremonial pathway.
Flagbearers ran to and fro, flustered and bustling.
Asella took her place at the far end of the path—where the imperial family had gathered. I spotted Lauga standing nearby as well.
I stood further back, grouped with the other physicians, knights, chief stewards, and Lucie.
“Outdoor ceremonies are always so exhausting, aren’t they, Doctor Gotberg?”
“Greetings, Lord Falkenhein.”
Second Prince Georg’s personal physician, Falkenhein, struck up conversation. I answered him with bare courtesy.
“Ha ha, even though we work in the sa court, it’s rare to see your face. I’ve been hearing quite a bit about you lately. I knew from the mont I brought you in that you’d be sothing special.”
“You flatter . I’m simply carrying out my duties to the best of my ability.”
These formal conversations drained more than anything else.
I couldn’t exactly ignore him, though—he had been part of my recruitnt.
“His Majesty approaches!”
Just as I was yawning from boredom, the Emperor’s chief secretary called out, cutting through the air.
All the earlier bustle vanished in an instant, replaced by solemn silence.
—Fwaaaash!
Light burst from the teleport gate, and elite imperial knights erged in formation.
Behind them ca a large, imposing old man.
His presence was powerful, but clearly, his body had deteriorated—he had to be supported by court physicians as he walked.
—Pwooooo!
The sound of horns rang out, loud enough to split the sky.
The orchestra played a welco march as mbers of the imperial family stepped forward one by one to pay their respects.
Even one’s own blood had to kneel and wait for the Emperor’s acknowledgnt.
They’d all spent weeks preparing for this mont—just to leave a single impression.
The Emperor greeted them with a wide, cheerful smile and waved a hand weighed down with rings.
“In this bright morning, I behold the gracious face of our benevolent father in the Square of Royal dicine.”
“You’ve grown, Asella.”
After all her preparation, Asella’s eting with the Emperor was over in seconds.
***
The Emperor then wandered freely around the mountain slopes, where flower petals danced on the wind.
He chatted with his siblings about surprisingly mundane things.
How he once hunted a boar the size of an ogre. How he just got a new model of fishing rod from the Grand Duchy.
With noble audiences booked out for months, it was clear this was one of the few tis the imperial family could talk freely.
Only the First Empress joined in the conversation—none of the others.
It was obvious, then, why the frail First Prince had effectively been chosen as heir.
Even those who lived in the clouds were still human. At tis like this, they seed normal.
Though most of the ti, they were far from it.
“Doctor, mind your steps.”
Lucie whispered just loudly enough for to hear.
The problem was that we had to remain on edge the whole ti—not daring to interrupt the imperial small talk.
Wherever the Emperor moved, his children followed, and with them a tide of knights and attendants.
I had to stay close as the personal physician, tucked between knights like a crushed sandwich in a crowded bag.
We weren’t allowed to be seen, nor to make a sound.
And yet we had to stay within a certain radius in case of ergency.
Honestly, they should just slap invisibility magic on us.
Cramd between armored knights, sweat pooled on my forehead.
Whenever the whole family gathers, the adults always talk while the kids die of boredom.
The princes and princesses—including Asella—and even the Emperor’s nephews stood quietly, expressionless, with no chance to speak.
Only after the Emperor had finished his private lunch—evidently the highlight of his day—did he finally move toward the tournant arena.
VIP seats for the Emperor and his siblings were on the highest level. His children sat on the tier below.
Only then could Asella break away from the crowd and begin tournant preparations.
“No change in the schedule?”
“No, Your Highness. As listed, the first match is the representative knight’s singles match.”
At Lucie’s reply, Asella summoned the Moonlight Palace knight commander.
“Are we ready?”
“Just give the order, Your Highness.”
The commander bowed deeply.
Wait. She’s planning to send him?
I checked the status window.
[No. 012: Fall of the Empire 52%]
Bad ending probability had climbed again.
Fall of the Empire.
An ending triggered when civil war erupts within the royal family, and Asella, overco with rage, obliterates the palace.
Not taphorically—literally. A giant crater opened in the middle of the capital.
The empire crumbled, the demon king subjugation force collapsed, and the hero’s party was left stranded and died off.
If today’s tournant ends up triggering that...
That would an Asella is about to experience sothing here that makes her direct that hatred toward the imperial family.
Maybe all her preparations go to waste and she’s humiliated with a last-place finish.
Let’s just focus on winning first.
Wouldn’t hurt either.
To win, Moonlight Palace needed top performance in every event.
But the knight commander’s not strong enough to take the solo match.
I made a suggestion to Asella.
“Forgive , Your Highness, for speaking out of turn...”
“What is it?”
“For the singles match... may I recomnd Tanya, my personal guard captain?”
“Your bodyguard?”
Asella glanced over at Tanya.
The mont her na was ntioned, Tanya stepped forward with steady confidence.
“No warning and you want to swap out our competitor? The commander’s been training for this.”
“I don’t an to insult his skill, but Tanya is exceptional. She’s reached the level of a Sword Expert.”
“Is that true?”
Asella’s curiosity clearly spiked at the term Sword Expert.
“Tanya.”
“Yes.”
She stepped back and demonstrated.
She drew her sword and focused.
A tangible aura rippled around her, and heat shimred from the blade like a mirage.
It was the mark of sword energy—a technique only Sword Experts could wield.
Asella watched her with clear satisfaction, then turned to the knight commander.
“Your opinion?”
He answered without hesitation.
“I’ve sparred with Captain Tanya multiple tis.”
“And?”
“I lost every bout. I can confidently say she ranks among the top knights in the entire imperial order.”
He reported the facts without ego or emotion, allowing Asella to make the best decision.
His loyalty was admirable.
After a short pause, Asella made her choice.
“Gotberg’s guard, Tanya—you’ll fight in the singles match.”
“As you command.”
True to her northern roots, Tanya answered crisply and imdiately began preparing her gear.
As she checked her sword, I walked over and said,
“Captain, you’re representing Moonlight Palace now. You must win. Confident?”
“To whom do you think you’re speaking?”
“I love the confidence. But don’t forget—the imperial knights are ahead of us in real combat tactics.”
“Tactics?”
“Yes. Back ho, that might not be the case, but here in the capital, all that matters is the result.”
“Could you give an example?”
“You probably think a duel is settled by swordsmanship alone, right?”
“Well, of course.”
“Then you’re gonna walk in there and get sand thrown in your eyes. And if there’s no sand, your opponent will bring so. If it’s not explicitly banned, it’s fair ga.”
Tanya nodded as she processed my advice.
“I see. The only rules for the singles match are: drop your weapon or fall to the ground—you lose. Inflicting a fatal injury is forbidden. Just those two.”
“Exactly. That ans your free hand can do whatever it wants.”
I’d watched the empire’s tactics often during the demon king campaign.
They loved to talk about honor, but when it ca to real combat? Underhanded as hell.
And that wasn’t a bad thing.
Like when we fought Wilhelm, one of the Four Heavenly Kings—the Dragon of Death.
The adamantium armor fused to his body could only be destroyed by the illegal mana bombs the imperial army smuggled in.
“Don’t worry. Whatever dirty tricks they pull, I’ll cut through them all.”
“Honor’s great. But tools are better.”
I reached into my doctor’s bag.
“Here—take these. I’ll explain each one. Rember carefully.”
I handed Tanya a set of clinking glass vials.
Ampoules filled with colorful potions, glinting in the light.
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