The empire's currency, once made of gold and silver, had its gold content reduced in the gold coins from 90% to 5%, gradually, starting from the Twelfth Emperor all the way to this rabbit who was supposed to be the Fifteenth Emperor — which caused people to lose faith in the currency.
"Silver without silver, gold without gold. Seriously, don't they study history?"
I sighed. Perhaps because magic existed, and mana stones served as a reserve currency, this scenario had never happened on an imperial scale before. Maybe it had occurred in some kingdoms, but arrogance born from status can be fatal. Because of that, people had begun refusing to use imperial coins, putting pressure on state banks to redeem their value in gold, wheat, or anything that possessed real worth — including mana stones.
Yes, Stage Two had been achieved. But at least no foreign currency had entered to replace the empire's money or turn it into a vassal state.
"Well… not certain. Maybe some regions are already using another kingdom's currency, so let's not generalize."
And that brings us to Stage Three: the debt spiral.
This continent has three great empires. This one is among them. To grow, taking loans was unavoidable. Even to address the problems it had suffered from for more than a hundred years, more debts were taken — slowing the empire's rapid سقوط.
"It didn't fix anything. But by borrowing every year just to pay interest, repeating the process for a century, we've entered a debt spiral worth 41 billion gold coins in Holy Imperial currency."
"No comment. Just… let me see Stage Four."
I was practically collapsing just thinking about it. This situation wasn't even interesting anymore.
"And Stage Four is what — loss of productive capacity? Fine. Seriously. Nothing surprising."
What it produces in wheat and crops isn't enough even for its own needs, and there's nothing particularly remarkable beyond that. There used to be inventions that once fueled the empire's prosperity — teleportation gates, military weapons — but all of that stopped because of the crises. Half of it was abandoned for the sake of quick profit, and part of the remaining half was seized by the state, only to be leaked or sold off after repeated problems.
Now the empire depends heavily on neighboring kingdoms, especially during the winter that strikes the fields every year. This year is the worst — the reason this rabbit killed himself, and the cause of a magical phenomenon I don't even want to think about right now.
Which moves us to Stage Five: social deterioration.
Stage Four guarantees Stage Five will happen. Public trust in the emperor declined, the nobles exploited that, blame was thrown entirely on him, and some regions began trying to secede from the empire. Crime and unemployment rose.
"Everyone talks. No one listens."
A fitting expression. I'd bet if the rabbit had walked into the streets, he would've returned to the palace in a coffin — no suicide required. Unfortunately, there's a secret force protecting him from assassination.
The only reason the nobles haven't eliminated this emperor themselves is because they want to pin everything on him first, then put him on the guillotine to calm the public. That's not the kind of situation that secret force interferes in. It didn't even intervene when the emperor attempted suicide.
Leaving aside the minor nobles and landowners, the head of this problem is the Duke of the North — the man who forced the rabbit to marry his most hated daughter in the empire. The outcast. The wicked woman who would accompany him to the grave and become the legal bridge through which the throne would pass to her father.
This man, who holds the position of Prime Minister, is behind most of these problems in his attempt to seize the throne.
"If not for that mysterious royal energy, he would've taken the empire already after a year of political marriage, and I wouldn't be dealing with this headache."
Now let's look at the stage before the end — Stage Six: the reserve currency losing its status.
Since the empire's condition isn't promising, the kingdoms that rebelled have begun returning imperial currency. Even the neutral ones no longer recognize it and have started sending it back. There was no choice but to repay and appease those kingdoms using mana stones and imperial resources to prevent wars.
Not that conflicts haven't already begun in some regions.
"And the final stage… is collapse."
Grab some popcorn and sit down to watch the fall of one of the three great empires — one of the oldest among them. That alone would break the continent's balance and could ignite a war that blankets it in flames for the pettiest reasons. For now, many kingdoms — even other empires — are watching quietly without direct or declared intervention.
And even under this atmosphere of anticipation, the empire has managed to lose half its territory, and the guillotine has drawn close to the emperor's neck… so he decided to end things himself.
"So did I come to this world just to experience execution? Is this the fate of someone who adds water to his coffee?"
Let's calm down and look at the bright side. Yes. The bright side.
"I have a wife in this world. Let's consider that a good thing — even though I don't remember her face. The rabbit never dared touch her or even meet her after the marriage. He was too busy running around begging for help."
I don't even know if that's truly a good thing. She's the daughter of the main enemy, and for her father's plan to succeed, she must die after me so that mysterious energy transfers to him legally, allowing him to open the inheritance chamber.
After that… I don't know. Short of magical solutions, this empire is already in a state of controlled decline and needs restructuring. I remember that empires facing similar fates in my world had only three options:
"Controlled decline. Chaotic collapse. Or restructuring."
So how do we restructure everything?
"Isn't there some magical solution? A system? Anything? No transmigration perks? Hello? System? Status window? Zosham? Whatever?"
This is embarrassing. I might've shouted out loud, because a maid came in to check on me, then left after a single order, leaving me alone with my embarrassment. The presence of a maid might mean there's still a chance… but I swear out of every ten servants in this palace, nine are spies from different factions.
"Forget it. Let's just look at the map."
No room for despair. The royal capital lies at the heart of an empire being quietly eaten away from every direction. Many regions are marked in red — meaning they've effectively become independent. Yet if you look closely, you'll find that many noble territories, even those of the Four Dukes, remain strangely free of uncontrollable chaos.
More precisely, aside from the Duke of the East and the Duke of the South, the other lands aren't even trying to fix the disorder. They maintain it at a certain level, as if waiting for some signal.
I know the nobles have their hands in all this, and half of them answer to the Duke of the North… but what's the solution? The moment the Four Dukes choose to secede, this place is finished.
And yet I'm still calling it an empire.
Why did the rabbit choose to die today of all days? Simple. The first news he received that morning was that the Duke of the West had declared his territory independent and proclaimed himself its king — under the excuse of "saving his people," or whatever.
"By the way, why are their titles Duke of the North, West, East, and South? What is this obsession with the four directions?"
"Forget it… is there really no system or anything?"
Looking at history, even the rabbit's father realized the situation and fled at night with a royal relic — a storage ring into which he stuffed whatever he could — then handed the position to his son without ceremony and left. Because the title transfers through that mysterious energy, the rabbit went to sleep a prince and woke up an emperor. Everyone was forced to recognize him, because that's what the Absolute Spirit Sword Law, established by the First Emperor, dictates.
And that gives me a second reason to think of a solution.
There's no escape. No chance to abandon the throne or pass it to the previous emperor's concubines' children — who are, technically, my younger siblings. Royal blood isn't what matters. It's the power that resides within it.
A mysterious energy with little practical use beyond legitimizing the emperor. It transfers to the heir upon ascension. If that heir dies, it moves to the second heir — provided he has reached the age of twenty.
That's why it transferred specifically to this rabbit. He was the only one among his brothers who had reached twenty.
If there is no second heir, it transfers to the deceased heir's wife. She must then choose the next ruler once he reaches the required age.
And if she dies as well, the power passes to her father, who then selects the successor.
Because of the nature of this power, it never transfers to a killer or the one who orders the killing. That's why the Duke of the North doesn't try to kill me or openly incite it. That doesn't mean assassination attempts don't exist — but thanks to the secret organization protecting the royal bloodline, I'm still alive.
At least until the Duke of the North's plan is complete.