"Then I will leave now, Your Highnesses."
"Okay."
Why are you talking without me? What about my doctor?
Even the Duke slightly pulled away.
"I guess I'll have to go now too. Excuse me."
So it really seemed like the situation was over.
No, it was really over.
The Duke and Cruel disappeared, and the Prince and Princess waved their hands at me, telling me to go quickly.
General Nemeseus also gestured with his chin for him to quickly follow, and while holding the man's collar with his hand, he picked up the documents scattered on the floor and began to lead the way.
And the palace doctor, who was hesitating and watching...
"I will send you some tonic medicine later, so don't forget to take it."
"...?"
"So please stay healthy. Please."
For some reason, he whispered firmly in a tone that seemed almost desperate, and then quickly walked away.
Unable to adapt to this situation and standing blankly, I glanced at the general.
He was walking at a brisk pace, as if he was going to kill me if I didn't follow him.
'The bathroom...'
Looking at the atmosphere, I don't think it will work.
In the end, I had no choice but to follow behind him.
***
The Duke left the imperial palace and got into the carriage heading to the Duke's residence. As soon as he left, he took something out of his pocket.
One of the documents dropped by the servant a moment ago.
On a piece of white paper, the budget plan for the time of war was written in a densely organized manner.
Cruel's eyes turned towards him as if he had sensed what the paper was, but the Duke didn't care.
He glanced over the contents of the document without paying any attention, then smiled and folded it and put it in his arms. In his head, the conversation from when he had an audience with the Emperor a while ago was playing back.
"You said there would be no war right now."
He even write a budget like this.
"You're not good at lying."
A clear sneer appeared on the Duke's face.
Let me help you out with this.
You must be most worried about the demon realm, Your Majesty.
'At least they will remain calm until Your Majesty takes over half the continent.'
The Duke gently touched the area near his heart.
And there was Cruel's gaze, silently watching the scene.
***
"You don't look good. Where does it hurt?"
"No."
"Are you breaking into a cold sweat right now?"
"It's okay."
I can never say that I need to go to the bathroom. Even if I'm embarrassed, I can't say anything.
I tried to straighten my expression and straighten my back. The Emperor, sitting in a chair across from the table, narrowed his eyes and looked at me, as if trying to gauge my physical condition.
As I sat there pretending to be even more sane, he smiled and leaned back in his chair.
"If it's you, then that's probably it. I'm saying this out of old age, but don't hide the fact that you're not feeling well. You are one of the Empire's most important forces."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Then ask again."
"..."
"I heard you caught a spy. Are you feeling okay?"
Beneath the slow and relaxed expression, golden eyes like beasts shone sharply as if searching.
I couldn't bear to look at him directly, so I answered while slightly averting my gaze.
"It's okay."
It's really okay. Although I was grazed by that guy's blade, it was literally just a grazing, and the cold sweat and bad complexion were just because somewhere in my body felt like it was going to explode.
If you're really worried, give me some time to rest. Then I will be really okay.
I was obviously sincere, but the Emperor's eyebrows twitched as he wondered how he took my words. He was silent for a moment, then opened his mouth again, raising the corners of his mouth as if it were invisible.
"...Okay then, let me ask you something else. What brought you here?"
"About Hardt Territory..."
"If you want to return it or request something similar, I refuse in advance. The same goes for things related to the Lofty Knight."
"...Then quitting my job..."
"That doesn't work either."
I expected rejection, but I never thought I would get rejected before I even said anything.
I felt like grabbing him by the collar and saying, 'I'm giving it to you, so why aren't you taking it?!' I want to scream. Of course, if that were the case, my neck would not be able to maintain its proper position.
Just as I was about to ponder what to do with this, the Emperor's laughing voice was heard again.
"However, if you grant my request, I will grant you one thing you want. How about asking again then?"
It felt uncomfortable to hear the Emperor's request.
But since there was no other way to persuade him, I nodded slowly.
Then the Emperor asked with a subtle expression.
"Cruel Hardt has decided to take on the same task, so if you participate too, I will have to grant the wish of the person who made it happen first. Will you still do that?"
"...I'll do it."
You're granting Cruel's wish? That is absolutely not okay.
I know what to wish for.
If I'm not careful, he might make a wish that will be detrimental to me.
If the opponent was an ordinary noble, it would be fine, but Cruel was a 'hero' like me.
There was infinitely little chance that the Emperor would side with me in the face of the legitimate demands of a great 'talented person'.
That's why I spoke to him in a solemn manner.
"What can I do?"
A faint smile appeared on the lips of the Emperor, who was looking at me with an expressionless expression as if searching.
He took a document from Nemeseus and pushed it in front of me. As I naturally looked at the paper, a phrase that appeared to be the title written at the top caught my eye.
'Salvation Church.'
"...Salvation Church?"
"Yes, Salvation Church. It is a pseudo-religion that is rampant in the slums these days. You just have to wipe them out."
Elimination of pseudo-religion.
I was completely dazed by this type of mission I had never received before.
***
Deon Hardt, who seemed to be already thinking about what to do, retreated with a thoughtful look on his face, and the Emperor, who had been sitting down and re-reading the document, raised his eyes and looked at Nemeseus.
His expression revealed a rare negative emotion.
The Emperor put down the document he was holding and spoke softly.
"Are you still dissatisfied?"
"I am against it."
It was an immediate answer.
The Emperor frowned at the resolute answer.
Nemeseus hated Deon Hardt. No, he was overly cautious.
The Emperor spoke in a tired tone.
"But isn't he better than Cruel Hardt? He is the Duke's servant."
'I understand that Your Majesty is having trouble with fanatics these days. Sir Cruel said that he would be willing to sacrifice his rest period for His Majesty's sake. Shouldn't the fanatics be eliminated for the sake of war?'
'...You've gone too far. I have no intention of starting a war yet.'
'I guess I was mistaken. Excuse me.'
The Emperor frowned slightly as he remembered the Duke barging his subordinates with a shameless look.
It was obvious what the Duke was aiming for.
A hero with a Duke behind him would easily defeat fanatics.
These were things that gave the 'Emperor' a headache, so from his perspective, he must repay them.
When demanding that 'repayment', the Duke's influence would be so strong that he will say 'absolutely'. It was probably a request that benefited the Duke himself.
Originally, he was planning to bring in Deon Hardt, but thanks to this, he became more confident.
He was undoubtedly on the side of the imperialist faction, or more specifically, Eduardo Dessert's. His skills were excellent, so he didn't have to worry about losing out in competition with Cruel, and because his opponent was Cruel, he was also overflowing with motivation.
It was truly an ideal hand.
But Nemeseus.
"I think it's there."
"..."
"He is dangerous."
Nemeseus was adamant. This time, he dared to look straight at the Emperor, his eyes brightening as if he would definitely persuade him.
It was clearly rude behavior, but the Emperor did not reprimand him.
Because it wasn't a disrespectful look.
How can you reprimand someone when they are appealing to you to listen to them?
An impatient voice continued, as if being chased.
"Do you know what he did during the Eight Year War?"
"I heard that he showed cruel hands, including chopping up his enemies. Is that the reason?"
"No. That was probably his own way of surviving and a strategy. So that doesn't matter."
A small boy who stood out even more with his white hair and red eyes.
This was the first time that a nobleman had joined the ranks as an ordinary soldier, and since he was under his command, his eyes were drawn to him.
The ridiculously weak child was naturally unaccustomed to killing people.
When ordinary people commit their first murder, the aftereffects last for a long time. However, there was no time to come to one's senses on a battlefield that was constantly moving.
That's why even adult men were having a hard time, so what about a child who chose 'cruelty' as a way to survive? The mind of a child was much weaker than that of an adult.
A child like that had to make a corpse with his own hands that was painful to even look at with his own eyes.
He had to hold a dagger that seemed heavy in his small hands and feel the feel of it as he stabbed another person.
He had to repeatedly fall in and out of madness.
"That guy..."
He must have gone crazy.
He must have felt that his ability to remain sane was reaching its limits.
While maintaining cruelty and suffering from the overwhelming guilt of being consumed by madness...you must find a way to remain sane.
Do you know what method the child chose in such a situation?
'Are you... are you okay?'
'Yes? What do you mean?'
'Uh...'
'Oh, if it's about the injury, it's okay. It wasn't that big of an injury.'
'No, it's not that. In the battle a little while ago...!'
'General.'
'...'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
Nemeseus could not hide his trembling eyes.
"That guy has separated his personality!"
The confused child, clutching his shaking mind with both hands, seemed to have decided something, went into a tent with alcohol and drugs, and stayed there for three days, creating two personalities.
A 'crazy personality' who has gone crazy with blood and only cared about battle and survival, and a 'normal personality' who only remembered normal battles and his normal self.
"In other words, he has abandoned the guilt he should have been carrying!"
If you tried to mention the things he did when the child was 'crazy' to a child who was pretending to have a 'normal personality', he would pretend not to know.
What did he do? He was just pretending not to know under the name of 'rationalization'.
Denying and ignoring what he has done.
"What do you think will happen if that guy's spirit breaks down?"
The guilt he had to bear was too much for him, so he abandoned himself in such an extreme way.
That guy's mental strength must be worse than that of a sand castle. It was obvious that if he were to face reality, he would completely collapse.
What would happen if you keep belittling a guy like that and his spirit broke down?
However, the Emperor was calm, uncharacteristic of someone who had heard a serious matter with his own ears.
After sitting leisurely with his legs crossed and listening to Nemeseus's words to the end, the first words he spoke were extremely leisurely, as if he were talking about another world.
"So?"
He uncrossed his legs and leaned his upper body forward.
The Emperor looked directly at Nemeseus' face as he got closer and spoke with a cold smile over his expressionless face.
"I know this too."