Chapter 977 - The Emperor's Greed
The Empire had successfully unified the continent's currency and its language.
Through two apocalyptic unification wars, the Imperial Knights had become a terrifying, absolute symbol of fear to everyone.
Later on, they even emerged as the primary force combating the Demonic Realms.
Yet now, as countless years had passed, the Empire had essentially relinquished its absolute influence over the continent, settling into the role of a silent bystander, merely watching from a distance with empty eyes.
'Why?'
Exactly why the Empire was acting like this was one of Krang's longest-standing agonizing dilemmas.
Because he simply couldn't comprehend the fundamental principles driving their actions.
The exact moment Krang ascended to the throne, his very first priority was meticulously analyzing the geopolitical situation of the surrounding nations.
Because the previous Queen hadn't been an absolute idiot either, despite lacking raw military power and constantly facing the looming threat of civil war, she had established an intricate network of information guilds and merchants to ensure a constant flow of intelligence.
Thanks to that, thoroughly understanding the political landscapes of the other nations—excluding the Empire—was relatively easy.
'The Southern Kingdom is an absolute warmonger intoxicated by the sheer lust for conquest.'
If the Demonic Realms hadn't physically blocked their path, they were the type of reckless gamblers who would have waged a total war of annihilation long ago.
And they had literally done exactly that.
They fought, they lost, and they meticulously prepared for the aftermath.
In some twisted way, he was a genuinely magnificent King.
'A man who staked absolutely everything on the singular dream of unifying the continent.'
He had meticulously arranged it so that if he couldn't achieve it himself, the one who ultimately defeated him would inherit that exact dream, forcibly passing the burden of unifying the continent onto them.
He was a complete lunatic, but the absolute, blind devotion he poured into achieving his ultimate objective was undeniably worthy of profound respect.
Evergart was a quiet, resting beast, provided you didn't explicitly covet their territory.
'And that resting beast practically proved they possess the terrifying political acumen to flawlessly read the flow of the era, form the absolute perfect alliances, and walk the tightrope of politics.'
Hadn't they recently sought him out, personally witnessed Enkrid's power, and immediately chosen a side?
The exact moment Naurillia officially declared war against the Demonic Realms, they would undoubtedly stand by their side and fight.
Aspen was exactly like a starving hyena, ruthlessly exploiting the exact moment Naurillia was catastrophically vulnerable due to the civil war.
While there were rampant rumors that they had only acted because they had secured the Empire's backing, even now, with the war against Aspen completely over, the Empire hadn't extended a single helping hand, nor had they interfered in the slightest.
As for the other Trade City-States, they were too busy desperately scrambling just to protect their own borders.
The Holy City-States were literally rotting from the inside out because they couldn't even squeeze out the festering pus of their own internal corruption.
Well, the geopolitical landscape had drastically shifted since then, but that was exactly how things stood back then.
The only real difference was that the situation had evolved significantly since he first took the throne.
'Then what about the Empire?'
Despite possessing catastrophic, overwhelming power, they refused to step forward.
Completely shrouded in pitch-black shadows, only their eyes remained visible, staring directly at this Kingdom.
And because the emotions swirling within those eyes were as profoundly apathetic as a fairy's, it was impossible to read a single thing from them.
'It is physically impossible to decipher the true intentions behind their actions.'
Ignorance breeds terror.
The unknown breeds absolute terror.
At least, that is an absolute truth when navigating the treacherous waters of international warfare and diplomacy.
Krang was genuinely terrified of the Empire.
However, if someone were to ask if he was willing to bow his head and bend the knee to them, well, that was an entirely different matter.
'At the very least...'
There were certain things the Empire actively involved themselves in.
Did analyzing those actions allow him to make an accurate judgment?
Not exactly.
In truly apocalyptic moments, when catastrophic disasters erupted from the Demonic Realms, a few of their Knights had stepped forward to fight, but they never once displayed even a fraction of a desire for conquest.
The only time they actually extended their absolute reach across the continent was almost exclusively to recruit people—specifically, individuals possessing truly extraordinary, once-in-a-generation talent.
'They dispatch recruiters.'
They send matchmakers to aggressively instigate strategic political marriages.
'It looks exactly as if they are entirely consumed by the singular task of consolidating their internal structure and stockpiling raw power.'
Isn't the sole purpose of stockpiling power to eventually use it?
Where exactly did the Empire intend to unleash that apocalyptic power, and when?
This was one of Krang's deepest, most paralyzing anxieties.
The absolute ruler of a terrifying organization which even if the Madmen Knights accepted an alliance with a demon to fight them, victory still wasn't guaranteed—the Emperor of the Empire had personally invited him.
Was he supposed to cower in absolute terror right now?
Krang refused.
He simply stabbed his fork into the flounder roe he had been eating and casually popped it into his mouth.
A profoundly rich, creamy flavor instantly coated the inside of his mouth.
Simultaneously, the sharp, salty aroma of the open ocean hit his nose.
'Perfectly cooked.'
It really would be wonderful if he could share luxuries like this with everyone.
Unfortunately, a massive, unbridgeable gap in diet naturally existed between royalty, nobility, and commoners.
While the King was casually enjoying his meal, Marcus abruptly stepped forward.
Honestly, it would be far more accurate to say he simply couldn't hold his tongue any longer.
He was still at an age where his blood ran hot.
"When you say 'invitation', are you seriously demanding that the absolute ruler of a sovereign Kingdom personally travel to you?"
His question was laced with razor-sharp venom.
The underlying implication was explicitly clear: Are you completely out of your fucking minds?
"Yes, we are earnestly requesting exactly that," the female Envoy replied instantly.
Her tone explicitly conveyed that she was merely delivering cold, objective facts completely devoid of any emotion.
Her response was so terrifyingly mechanical it felt as if perfectly synchronized gears were turning inside her body.
Naturally, regardless of whether it was framed as an 'earnest request' or a blatant threat, it was a demand that was practically impossible to fulfill.
That was Marcus's absolute judgment.
His face flushed a deep, furious red.
He was right on the verge of violently telling them to cut the bullshit.
"Is there some reason the Emperor can't just come here himself?"
Enkrid asked, having just swallowed another mouthful of flounder roe.
Damn, this is actually incredibly delicious.
He had heard the Royal Chef personally prepared it, and the man's skills were genuinely extraordinary.
Hadn't someone told him that perfectly grilling fish was one of the absolute hardest techniques in cooking?
If it's undercooked, it tastes incredibly fishy, and if it's overcooked, it becomes painfully dry, but this was absolutely neither.
Hearing Enkrid's blunt question, the Mage violently scowled.
"How dare you—?!"
He was clearly about to spit out some wildly arrogant insult, but before he could even finish opening his mouth, the female Envoy cut him off.
"Due to highly specific circumstances, His Imperial Majesty absolutely cannot leave his current location."
The way she phrased it made it sound exactly as if he would have come if those 'circumstances' didn't exist.
Enkrid was just about to bluntly ask what the hell those circumstances were, but then he remembered the promise they had made earlier.
Right, hadn't they explicitly agreed to just ask them what they actually wanted?
Specifically, using the fact that he had beaten Balmung as the excuse.
Enkrid's gaze casually drifted over to Balmung, and he unapologetically opened his mouth to address him directly.
"I have a question I'd like to ask Sir Valpir Balmung, the Knight of the Beast."
"You don't need to use the grand, formal titles; I'll answer you regardless. Damn, this actually is incredibly delicious."
He was currently thoroughly enjoying the flounder roe as well.
This bastard clearly understood the profound value of truly excellent food.
Honestly, Enkrid didn't actually dislike the Knight named Balmung.
The way he cleanly and immediately accepted his defeat wasn't a bad look, and rather than throwing a massive, pathetic tantrum like it was the end of the world, seeing him calmly return to his duties like a mature adult was actually quite refreshing.
Overall, he didn't leave a bad impression at all.
Of course, the Mage sitting right next to him was incredibly repulsive just to look at, but...
Well, people with incredibly repulsive, punchable faces exist absolutely everywhere in the world.
That curly blonde hair looked exactly like pubic hair, and every time he smirked, the corners of his eyes scrunched up while the overall shape of his eyes drooped even further downward.
It was an incredibly irritating sight.
Could you say the specific, highly punchable angle of his drooping eyes just inherently pissed him off?
Because sometimes, you just find a highly specific facial structure viscerally repulsive for absolutely no logical reason.
Regardless, Enkrid finally finished his sentence.
"I want to know exactly what the Emperor truly desires."
I'm allowed to ask at least this much, right?
If you give me an honest answer, I'd genuinely appreciate it.
Even if you don't, it would be great if you could at least give me a tiny glimpse into whatever apocalyptic scheme you're currently plotting.
It was a single, heavily loaded sentence specifically designed to violently dig for information like a razor-sharp dagger.
Balmung stared silently at Enkrid.
Although their sparring match had been incredibly brief, did violently crossing swords naturally breed a bizarre sense of mutual respect?
Watching the Madmen Knight's demeanor and terrifying swordsmanship, Balmung had internally concluded that the man was genuinely exceptional.
Actually, 'exceptional' didn't even begin to cover it; he was far beyond what he had initially assumed.
If this man had been born in the Empire, he would have undoubtedly become an absolute pillar of their military might.
"If I tell you, will you even believe me?" Balmung asked in return.
"I will listen carefully."
Enkrid replied instantly.
He didn't explicitly promise to believe it, nor did he outright state he would reject it.
In this specific regard, it was glaringly obvious that Enkrid possessed a terrifyingly sharp political acumen.
Even right now, hadn't he flawlessly slipped out of the trap with a highly ambiguous answer while simultaneously demanding an answer from the opponent?
He's got a damn sharp tongue on him.
With that thought, Balmung glanced over at the female Envoy.
She gave a single, firm nod.
That incredibly brief interaction definitively established exactly who held the absolute authority in this room.
"The original plan was to completely crush your vanguard opponent using purely overwhelming martial force. To put it bluntly, we intended to violently subjugate you with raw power and forcefully seize complete control of the atmosphere. You know exactly how the Law of the Continent works, don't you? If that failed, the absolute final contingency was to have the true Envoy step forward and formally take over."
The absolute Law of the Continent dictated that the one possessing the greatest physical strength ultimately decides absolutely everything.
The underlying implication of that statement was: If things don't go our way, we just draw our swords.
Perhaps Balmung was intentionally displaying his own insidious nature, but he bluntly laid bare the exact reasoning behind every single aggressive action they had taken since arriving.
It was exactly what Krais and a few others had already perfectly predicted.
"Man, your stomach must be violently twisting in knots since your little plan completely went to shit," Rem chimed in from the side.
His words were heavily laced with mockery.
Of course, mockery wasn't the only thing laced in his tone.
He spoke while actively radiating a highly aggressive, deeply belligerent aura.
If you're going to order someone to willingly walk straight into the gaping maw of a demonic beast, you better provide a damn good reason.
Instead of stating that explicitly, he simply aggressively seized control of the atmosphere.
Rem subtly but violently pressured the opponent using his own terrifying, unique presence.
This was a man who stood at the absolute forefront of the Law of the Continent.
If I don't like what I hear, I'm going to start swinging my axe.
He declared it with his entire body.
He subtly radiated the absolute Will to violently flip the table if things went south.
Despite feeling the suffocating pressure of that explicit threat, the Imperial Envoy didn't display the slightest hint of discomfort.
Ah, well, Balmung's squire, Mol, and the Mage briefly flashed highly uncomfortable expressions, but those two completely lacked any actual decision-making authority anyway.
"I will swear an absolute oath upon my Will, and then I will speak."
It was a completely abrupt, shocking declaration from Balmung.
Suddenly swearing a formal oath?
While Enkrid and absolutely everyone else stared at him in stunned silence, Krais violently furrowed his brow.
"Do not do that," Krais warned.
Yet, Balmung completely ignored him and opened his mouth once more.
"Staking my absolute honor as a Knight, I swear that absolutely no harm shall come to the King. Should any treacherous or foul play occur, it is perfectly acceptable for every last drop of Will residing within me to be permanently eradicated."
A formal oath sworn by a Knight is fundamentally identical to a highly binding spell.
Balmung had literally put his entire existence as a Knight on the line.
The furrow between Krais's brows deepened severely.
"His Imperial Majesty has always, without exception, desired the absolute peace and stability of the continent."
The female Envoy spoke up again, her tone implying that this was the sole, unadulterated Will of the Emperor.
Krang remained completely stoic, while Marcus's face violently flushed bright red, paled to stark white, and then flushed red all over again.
The Duke of the Fertile Lands simply stared silently at the female Envoy's face.
Was every single person in the room currently overwhelmed by their own frantic thoughts?
Cutting straight through the suffocating silence, Krais finally opened his mouth.
Despite words and questions violently pouring from his lips at breakneck speed, his pronunciation was terrifyingly precise, burying every single syllable directly into their ears.
"So if we completely ignore your words right now, we effectively become arrogant fools who violently spat on the honor of an Imperial Knight. But if we state that we will respect your honor, the King is now absolutely forced to personally walk straight into the heart of the Empire? Do you honestly expect us to accept a demand like that?! Do you genuinely believe your personal honor or life is vastly superior to the life of the absolute ruler of a sovereign nation?!"
Balmung let out a short, conflicted groan—"Mmm..."—before finally replying.
"No, I absolutely do not think that. It was merely my attempt to explicitly prove our absolute sincerity."
"You are essentially violently forcing us to choose between blatantly insulting a Knight's absolute honor or accepting a completely, utterly absurd demand! You are forcing an impossible ultimatum!"
Krais roared furiously.
His voice was so deafeningly loud it violently echoed throughout the massive dining hall.
At the sheer, overwhelming force of his shout, the female Envoy's gaze instantly snapped to Krais.
Krais absolutely refused to break eye contact.
"Because the demand we have presented is undeniably preposterous, we absolutely cannot claim you have insulted his honor if you refuse. My name is Seriana Kraus."
"Krais Allman."
They hadn't even formally exchanged names yet.
A brief, highly tense introduction occurred.
"If you definitively refuse, the Empire will simply remain exactly as it was yesterday."
The statement Seriana delivered deliberately borrowed heavily from a highly famous proverb.
To say it would remain exactly as it was 'yesterday' meant they would simply maintain the current, utterly stagnant status quo.
"But didn't you explicitly march all the way here because you desperately wanted to discuss 'tomorrow'? I highly doubt you traveled this far just to act like merchants selling wares."
Krais aggressively countered, utilizing a different section of that exact same proverb to fire back.
The specific proverb they were currently utilizing to wage a verbal war was the tale of the Merchant who lives exactly as he did yesterday, the Soldier who is fiercely devoted only to today, and the Statesman who relentlessly marches forward toward tomorrow.
According to the tale, when confronted by a horrific monster, the Merchant desperately flees to preserve a 'today' identical to his 'yesterday', the Soldier violently fights for the sake of 'today', while the Statesman actively attempts to persuade the monster for the sake of 'tomorrow'.
By explicitly highlighting that they were invoking this specific tale, Krais was sharply rebuking her, demanding to know if they hadn't come here to engage in true statesmanship—in politics.
"We did not come here to threaten you. We are merely actively attempting to arrange a formal meeting between your King and our Emperor."
Seriana opted for a completely straightforward, highly direct approach.
She blatantly laid exactly what they desired out on the table.
Is it truly right for the absolute ruler of a sovereign Kingdom to completely abandon his throne right now?
Even though they were currently on incredibly good terms with Aspen, if Krang suddenly declared he was going there, Krais would roll up his sleeves and physically fight him to stop it.
Krais firmly believed there was absolutely no valid reason for them to mobilize while shouldering that level of catastrophic, apocalyptic risk.
"How about we at least hear the reasoning behind it?"
Krang casually set his wine glass down on the table and spoke.
Perhaps because he had eaten a highly satisfying meal, his face actually looked quite vibrant.
Having enjoyed a glass of fine wine, his cheeks were slightly flushed as well.
The proposal they had aggressively tossed onto the table was ultimately nothing more than a proposal.
The ultimate choice remained entirely in their hands.
Krais knew perfectly well that the absolute final decision rested entirely within the heart of a single man.
And the Envoy named Seriana absolutely knew that as well.
***
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