An old man prostrated himself before me. Behind him, three figures—the challengers I had observed on the grand screen yesterday—bowed in perfect imitation.
The old man was Gadra. He had requested this audience through Razen and Diablo. He wore no lavish robes, only a somewhat high-tier magical robe, yet his eyes were sharp, unyielding, and did not betray the weakness of his old body.
And, as I had suspected, Shinjee was actually Shinji—full name Shinji Tanimura. The others had apparently registered under their real names as well. All three had served Yuuki in the past, but now they answered to Gadra, assisting him in this investigation. That was what they had told me so far.
Gadra remained on the floor even after speaking, and the others followed suit. Yet I had no intention of letting this continue—this display of deference was useless to actual business.
"Stand," I commanded, my voice carrying the authority of a Pharaoh. My words brooked no hesitation.
"Y-yes, Your Majesty!" Gadra exclaimed, his tone trembling slightly. The others followed. Even the most loyal of subordinates cannot deny the King of Games' presence.
We moved to the reception room—the simpler one. I preferred this modest space. The opulent halls of Eterna were beautiful, yes, but delicate. A single spill or scratch could ruin it. Better to hold council where the mind could focus, not where furniture distracted it.
"Coffee or tea?" I asked, seated with the poise of a sovereign.
"T-then…coffee," Shinji answered, hesitantly.
"Coffee it is," I affirmed. Gadra's face contorted slightly in protest, but I ignored it.
"M-me?" he stammered. "I…uh…same as him."
I turned to Mark and Xin; they nodded silently. Very well. Coffee for all, then.
"Shuna, four cups, please."
"Four Americans?!" Shinji blurted in surprise.
"Just a beverage choice," I replied evenly, already accustomed to such reactions.
Shuna prepared the drinks. As I observed Gadra and his trio, I noted something amusing—only Gadra himself bore an expression of quiet panic. He had probably forgotten to inform them about certain…peculiarities. No matter. That was inconsequential.
"All right. Speak," I commanded. My voice left no room for hesitation.
Gadra's hands shook slightly as he took a sip of coffee, his eyes betraying a mixture of reverence and anxiety.
"Actually… I am a reincarnated person," he said, almost casually.
The trio gasped, their surprise mirrored faintly in Gadra's own expression.
Gadra had sought mastery over sorcery for lifetimes. Each reincarnation had been devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, studying every treasured tome and forbidden manuscript he could access. In one such life, he met Adalmann, and the two became inseparable allies.
"I harbored nothing but hatred for the Western Holy Church," Gadra continued, voice tight with old grief. "They killed my friend Adalmann. For centuries, I planned to use the Empire against them."
His tale took a turn I had anticipated yet could not ignore: he recounted the depth of his involvement with the Empire, the schemes he had cultivated, and the battles he had fought. He had clashed with Veldora himself. Only four True Dragons existed, apexes of the world's natural hierarchy—and Gadra had seen their power firsthand.
"I am grateful my reincarnation ritual was complete," he admitted, lowering his gaze. "I wished to witness the natural-born apex of monsters with my own eyes."
Veldora, of course, glanced at me with evident delight. I ignored it. Praise was unnecessary.
"The Imperial Army might have achieved tactical victories," Gadra said, "but they sought to control Veldora-sama. I warned them it was futile, yet they ignored me. My only purpose was vengeance against the West, not to expend men in hopeless pursuits."
His words revealed a man of integrity and cunning simultaneously—responsible for igniting imperial ambitions yet unwilling to be fully consumed by them.
"So," I said, leaning forward, "you admit responsibility for the Empire's warlike intentions?"
Gadra flinched. "Partially… but it is not so simple. The Empire is inherently hegemonic. If direction is not given, chaos spreads."
"Convenient for you," I remarked, my tone sharp. "And yet we are dragged into this for reasons that serve your vendetta?"
"I opposed an assault on the Great Jura Forest—Veldora-sama resides there. I suggested the Dwarven Kingdom instead, but many would solve all problems with force."
I narrowed my eyes. "The Empire intends to attack the Dwarven Kingdom?"
"Yes," he admitted, "but my proposal was an alliance. I hold a grudge solely against the
Western Holy Church. Adalmann is safe; I saw to it."
I had already ensured Yuuki's absence from the equation, his fate sealed. Gadra's knowledge of Yuuki was all in the past tense—a vanished figure, once dangerous, now gone.
"And King Gazel refused?" I prompted.
"Of course. Assassination was proposed," Gadra confessed, "but I opposed it. I insisted we face them openly."
I allowed a pause, letting the weight of his admission settle. The man was bold, far bolder than I had anticipated. Yet he still had utility.
He divulged intelligence—breakdowns of the Imperial Army, inner thoughts of the upper
echelons. Even revelations about Yuuki's prior schemes were shared, but all were in the past.
Finally, Gadra spoke candidly. "I owe nothing to the Empire. My corps was disbanded. My men taken. These three are my disciples. I borrowed them for this task. If Adalmann is safe, I have no regrets leaving the Empire behind."
A man unbound by loyalty yet resolute in action—his audacity was remarkable.
"That is why," he continued, eyes glinting, "I request the honor of even the lowest office among your followers. I will labor without rest."
I allowed a small nod. Benimaru and the others listened from the adjacent room. Gadra's presence might test their patience, yet his loyalty to the Empire was irrelevant now.
I decided to hire Gadra temporarily. A guest, yes—but one who would work tirelessly. I did not expect loyalty, only effort.
For now, I allowed him to meet Adalmann, granting him permission to access the 70th floor. His knowledge would serve the greater purpose. Later, he would perform a minor task in the Empire itself.
Shinji and the others chose to stay, pledging allegiance to Eterna. Their allegiance was practical; betrayal meant permanent exile, and they understood this fully.
Despite their respect for Yuuki, they would serve me. Yuuki's influence was past tense; his schemes were dead alongside him.
"It would do all of you well not to trust Yuuki too much," I warned, voice sharp yet fair.
Gadra nodded knowingly. His understanding of Yuuki's prior schemes and his own pragmatism made him a reliable operative.
I allowed him to spend time with Adalmann, reminiscing of old days. Their bond was real. Adalmann agreed to harbor Gadra for now.
But before any leisure, Gadra had a task. I instructed him to return to the Empire, promoting an anti-war stance discreetly.
"Are you prepared for this?" I asked.
"Leave it to me. I excel in the shadows," he replied.
"Good. But prepare contingencies. Stopping the Empire is difficult—they are relentless once set in motion."
"That is why," I explained, "we shall lure them into the labyrinth. There, their strength and will shall be weakened without unnecessary loss of life."
Gadra's eyes widened in understanding. "Ah… Your Majesty intends to cripple the Empire's military and morale. Brilliant. I know the type of commander who will fall for this. Your plan will succeed."
I nodded, handing him three Resurrection Bracelets and specialized labyrinth equipment. They were bait, meticulously calculated.
Asylum for the four—Gadra and his disciples—was granted by my authority. And thus, in a single audience, I had secured allies of surprising ability, ended a minor conflict, and laid the first stone in a larger strategy that would ensure Eterna's supremacy.