The edict of the Empire’s Sun, delivered by the imperial officer, brought every member of House Praha to their knees.
Swoosh—!
The imperial officer unfurled the scroll bearing the imperial decree.
“Hear this, Louis Berg—! His Majesty’s grace has reached you. Receive the rank and honor of Baron, and enter the Imperial Palace to swear your loyalty!”
I stared at the imperial officer in wide-eyed shock—a reflexive reaction I couldn’t suppress. When his gaze fell upon me, I hastily bowed my head again.
What’s happening here?
A barony was the lowest noble rank, perhaps, but still a genuine title. One granted directly by the Emperor himself. It stood incomparably higher than the mere courtesy title of “Young Lord” I’d carried until now.
To grant me such a rank... Even considering the Mithril I’d offered, did that truly warrant this level of reward?
Before this, I would have shaken my head decisively at the notion.
Which meant there was definitely more to this story.
Though I can’t figure out what.
I’d have to ask Lexa about this later. For now, there was no need to refuse what was being offered. I’d been planning to visit the Imperial Palace anyway.
“I shall obey the will of the glorious Sun.” I spoke to the imperial officer while keeping my head bowed.
The imperial officer nodded approvingly and folded the scroll.
“You are Young Lord Berg, I presume? I do appreciate perceptive young men like yourself. I hope we’ll have the chance to work together at the palace someday.”
The imperial officer maintained his formal posture as he spoke, then climbed back into his carriage.
A moment later, the carriage window opened and the imperial officer poked his head out, adding, “You’ll need to come within a week. Normally, you’d have to appear within three days, but His Majesty has graciously granted you additional time.”
A week... I nodded at the generous timeframe. “Yes. I’ll see you at the palace soon.”
“See that you do.” The imperial officer closed the carriage window again. The carriage promptly departed from the ducal manor.
I watched the Imperial carriage disappear into the distance, a single thought crystallizing in my mind.
Soon, I’d be able to take the High Elder’s neck.
* * *
Meanwhile, on the highest floor of the Elder Council building, in the most antiquated room of all, an old man stroked his beard.
“Tsk, tsk... His Majesty truly has no eye for talent. How could he grant a title to such a ruffian?”
The High Elder gazed down from his window. Despite being the highest-ranking council member of the family, he had made backdoor deals with House Artezia in his ambition to become Praha’s new leader.
Normally, he should have participated in that ceremonial farce below, but he’d holed up in his room, using illness as an excuse.
“But what could His Majesty have learned to orchestrate such an affair?”
When such things happened, it usually meant someone knew something. The High Elder swallowed nervously at the thought.
What if the Emperor had truly learned about that matter...
No, impossible. If that were the case, he wouldn’t have moved so indirectly.
This was too much of a leap. If the Emperor knew the secret, he surely would have come in person. With those aged hands, he would have strangled his throat personally.
Yet using such a tedious method meant only one thing.
The Emperor knows nothing. There’s some other reason.
The High Elder’s eyes glinted as he stared into the void. He drew the curtains and began to pace slowly.
In the dim room, the High Elder circled like a caged beast.
What could it be? What moved that old lion?
House Artezia’s rebellion? House Berg’s backing? Perhaps the Grand Duke had said something?
The High Elder systematically sorted through the endless possibilities that came to mind.
After a while, he stopped abruptly and smiled a sinister smile.
“...Ah yes, that’s it.”
The mirth never left his lips as dark Aura rippled around him.
“Heheh... That was it. Then it all makes sense. Why, of course!” The murmur bordered on ecstasy.
The High Elder pulled out a crystal orb from the corner of his private room—a Dark Relic belonging to the Demonkin. That ominous object glittered on his desk.
He lifted the crystal orb and channeled Aura into it.
Whoooosh—!
Whiiiing.
The Aura drained out and filled the crystal orb completely. From within came a bright cluster of light along with a voice.
—What is it?
A deep male voice, ridden with lethargy, came from the crystal orb.
He was Remiont Artezia, the head of House Artezia himself.
“Lord Artezia. I believe I’ve discovered the Emperor’s weakness.”
—The Emperor’s weakness?
“Indeed. The current Emperor might have been installed by the aristocracy, but surely he needs at least one leash?”
Silence from the crystal orb. It simply maintained its quiet for a long moment before flickering again.
—What do you want?
Hearing the response, the High Elder continued with a smile full of joy. “Soldiers. I ask for soldiers. With the Patriarch gone, this is our chance to seize the House.”
—I understand there’s currently an acting head. Is it even possible?
“I can handle that little girl myself. You, my Lord, just need to provide enough troops to clean up the small fry. I’ll take care of everything else.”
The High Elder’s voice was laced with murderous intent.
Truth be told, it was the perfect time to seize the family. The Patriarch and his personal guard had disappeared into the Demonic Realm. The Elder Council commanded the loyalty of most of the knights, and the Elders still stood behind him.
He had to seize the family before more time passed and the Elders began to defect.
The problem is Louis Berg, that ruffian.
Thinking about it, the only one who had interfered with his plans so far wasn’t some Master-level expert, but Louis Berg alone.
If not for that whelp, Lea Praha would have succumbed to the mysterious affliction and died. House Praha’s trading company would have collapsed under debt. Moreover, the Emperor wouldn’t have taken such keen interest in the North.
All of this had been ruined because of one wastrel who’d started as a mere Aura Adept.
While he felt wronged, he could no longer afford to underestimate that man.
Unknowns must be eliminated...!
He couldn’t allow the brat another chance to ruin his plans.
“The plan will take place in one week, after Louis Berg has gone to the Imperial Palace,” the High Elder declared with resolve.
Finally, the moment to seize the family was approaching.
* * *
Click.
Duke Artezia turned off the crystal orb and heaved a long sigh.
“Is something the matter, Your Grace?”
“...No. Just some mongrel begging to be fed.”
“So he’s a presumptuous fool.”
“Indeed.” The Duke answered quietly while running his hand through his hair. His face was spattered with bloodstains, his shirt stained with sticky fluids.
The Duke looked at his hands and clicked his tongue lightly. “How filthy.”
The knight beside him quickly offered a handkerchief, and the Duke took it, wiping his hands clean.
He then gazed below him. “Now then... where were we?”
A man on the floor raised trembling hands. “P-please spare me...”
The man’s limbs had been severed, his face crushed, his abdomen torn open. This was probably what they meant by “too wretched to die.”
Looking at the man, the Duke nodded as if he’d just remembered. “Ah yes. I was asking where you were sent from.”
“Uh... uh...”
“Don’t worry. You won’t die.”
The Duke grabbed the man’s face and applied pressure—like crushing an apple. The man writhed in pain and grasped at the Duke’s hand in a desperate plea for mercy.
But the Duke crushed the man’s face without the slightest hesitation.
“Now, I’ll ask again. Answer this time and you can die. How fortunate would that be? Give thanks to the Goddess.”
“Gah...! F-from Death Veil...”
“Death Veil... so their lineage is still clinging to life. Continue.”
“A commission...! Gaaaah—!” The man let out a pained scream.
Judging that there was nothing more to squeeze out, the Duke nodded and released his grip.
Thud.
The man crashed to the floor, crying out in pain, but seemed moved to tears by the fact that he could finally die.
“F-finally...”
The Duke drew his sword and promptly thrust it into the man’s neck.
Squelch—!
The assassin sent by Death Veil lost his life just like that.
Thud.
“Clean this up.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As the Duke kicked the assassin’s corpse with his foot, the knight nodded and cleared away the body.
The Duke slumped tiredly into his chair, his eyes glinting sharply.
“...Death Veil. Someone must have put in a commission.”
Setting aside that Death Veil still continued to this day, who would dare try to annihilate House Artezia? Just who could it be?
The Duke pondered endlessly, lost in thought.
“How many should we send to Praha?” the knight asked, bowing.
“Ah, there? Hmm... Send decent ones anyway. That old High Elder should be helpful enough.”
“Understood.” The knight bowed and departed.
The Duke clicked his tongue lightly as he watched the knight leave.
Nothing ever went right. His daughter had her engagement broken by some Berg idiot. His son had gone missing. And now even Death Veil, which he thought had been disbanded, was sending assassins. What chaos.
Such misfortune in this world. Where could you find someone who’d lived as virtuously as himself to deserve this treatment?
The Duke ran his hand through his hair again. “And that talk of the Emperor’s weakness turned out to be nothing much.”
The Emperor feared the rise of the Demonkin. It seemed he was probably catching wind of things.
“It’s always the ignorant who live in bliss.”
The Duke let out a derisive snort while fingering the ring on his middle finger—a ring engraved with the pattern of a coiled serpent. This was the symbol representing House Artezia, but it gave off an ominous feeling.
The Duke muttered with eyes glittering with madness. “The Demonkin have already risen, after all.”
Demonic energy glittered in Remiont Artezia’s eyes, the distinctive stench of Demonkin emanating from him.
“Ah, this worked out well. I should use this opportunity to bundle up Berg and Dragunov and be done with them.”
The Duke muttered to himself while looking at the bloodstains leading outside.
An assassin, Dragunov, and Berg. If he could weave these three together, it would make quite an interesting picture. Then, he’d be able to devour both Dragunov’s funds and the traitorous House Berg whole.
“How silly. I was trying to take the long way around when the easy path was right in front of me."
Creak. The Duke leaned back in his chair with a sinister smile.
Soon, torrents of blood would rain across the continent, and he would reign above it all—seated upon the highest throne, as Emperor.