"What do you think about a king?"
My teacher's voice was calm, yet somehow oppressive, as if that question carried an answer that could determine someone's future.
The classroom suddenly fell silent.
For a moment, no one dared to answer—until finally a student in the front row hesitantly raised his hand.
"I think… a king is someone who must be a role model for his people."
That answer sounded correct.
Too correct.
The teacher nodded slowly, his expression remaining flat.
"A good answer. Anyone else?"
Silence lingered—then one by one, voices began to emerge, overlapping with each other.
"Someone at the top of the social hierarchy!"
"A firm leader in taking action!"
"The ruler of the government!"
Answer after answer was thrown out enthusiastically, as if they were competing to be the most correct.
But the more people spoke… the emptier it felt.
Meanwhile, I just sat quietly in my seat, propping my chin up with one hand, holding back the drowsiness that slowly crept in.
Until finally—
"What do you think?"
That voice stopped everything.
I slowly lifted my head, finding my teacher's sharp gaze now directed straight at me.
The class fell silent.
I glanced to the right, then to the left, even briefly looking behind, making sure there was no one else being referred to.
"Yes, you. Kevin."
I flinched.
With a hurried movement, I stood up, rubbing my still-heavy eyes.
"Ah… sorry."
Laughter immediately broke out across the classroom.
Some even slapped their desks, enjoying the moment as if it were a small show in the middle of the lesson.
The teacher let out a long sigh, then raised his hand, calming the atmosphere.
Slowly, the laughter subsided.
His gaze returned to me—this time sharper.
"So, Kevin…"
There was a brief pause. Long enough to make the entire room fall silent again.
"Do you think that is a king?"
I fell silent for a moment.
Various thoughts crossed my mind—not from books, nor from empty idealistic talk… but from hundreds of hours of playing RTS games.
Finally, I opened my mouth.
"A king is someone who rules."
The atmosphere remained quiet.
"He bears the responsibility for the welfare, security, and justice of his territory…"
I paused for a moment, staring straight ahead.
"And ensures all of it continues to run—by any means necessary."
Murmurs immediately arose throughout the classroom.
"By any means necessary?"
I nodded slowly.
"Yes. Even if it means sacrificing family, friends… or even the people closest to him."
Some students immediately fell silent. Others exchanged glances.
"As long as it is for his territory and his people… then it must be done."
Silence.
For a moment, no one dared to interrupt.
The teacher looked at me for quite a while, as if weighing every word that had just come out.
Then, he nodded slowly.
"An interesting opinion."
He turned to face the entire class.
"And not just him. All of you… are correct, in your own ways."
Some students looked relieved, even smiling in satisfaction.
As for me, I simply sat back down, as if everything was already finished.
But—
"Then," he continued, his voice calm but deeper, "what is the difference between a king and an emperor?"
All eyes immediately turned to him. Some students held their breath, waiting for what was usually a complicated answer.
The teacher gave a faint smile, then suddenly… dropped a bomb.
"So, are you confused?" His eyes scanned the entire class. "Actually… there is no significant difference between a king and an emperor that fundamentally separates them."
In an instant, the classroom fell silent. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual.
Some students glanced at each other, their faces full of confusion. Others looked like they were about to change their answers.
I remained seated calmly, digesting those words, before finally opening my mouth.
"An emperor is someone who rules over a vast territory… where he holds authority over other kings. He is not only respected, but must also be feared by other kings, because he is an emperor."
I stared straight ahead, my voice flat but firm.
"To his people, he must be warm and just. But before his enemies, he must appear ferocious, like a wolf. Meanwhile, before the weak, he must be gentle, like a lamb. That is the balance of a ruler."
I emphasized every word, letting the meaning sink into the entire class.
"However, history shows… not all emperors are able to maintain that balance. Many of them ended tragically. They were too submissive to personal ambition, too afraid of threats from other kings or nobles, or too intoxicated by the praise of the people. As a result, the values that should have been the foundation of an emperor—justice, firmness, and courage—faded over time. And when that happens, their power collapses, the people suffer, and their names are recorded in history as failed rulers."
I took a short breath, scanning the classroom with unblinking eyes.
"A true emperor does not merely conquer enemies or rule vast lands. He must be able to read situations, understand the intentions of others, and make decisions with a clear head. He must restrain himself from personal desires that could damage his authority, and be brave enough to make painful decisions if it is for the survival of his territory and his people. Only those who can combine cruelty with wisdom, fear with compassion, will endure… and be remembered as true rulers."
The entire class remained silent. My words hung in the air, heavy, yet hard to deny.
The teacher looked at me for a long time, as if trying to weigh my final answer.
"So, Kevin… what do you think?"
I took a breath, preparing to give the answer that would close the discussion…
But suddenly, my teacher's voice was cut off by another shout that echoed loudly.
"Prince!"
I jolted.
In an instant, a classic ceiling with a large crystal chandelier appeared in my view as I opened my eyes—eyes that were not fully awake yet.
A spacious, luxurious room, with a large bed layered in thick fabric, came into view. Beside the bed, a female servant looked at me politely.
Her name was Marie.
"Marie… I remember there's no schedule this morning," I complained while rubbing my face, still half-asleep.
Marie bowed slightly, her voice soft but firm.
"My apologies, Prince Sieg. However, His Majesty is summoning you."
In an instant, the atmosphere in the room felt heavier.
"Father?" I asked, still half-asleep.
"His Majesty, Prince Sieg," Marie replied politely, emphasizing the urgency of the summons.
I let out a long sigh, the laziness of the morning still lingering.
"Haah… alright. Prepare my clothes. I'll wash my face first."
Marie nodded without saying anything, then turned to prepare my clothes in the wardrobe.
That dream… why am I dreaming about it now?
While washing my face, my thoughts drifted. It has been fourteen years since I reincarnated into this world as a prince in a kingdom that, if I'm being honest, can hardly be called a kingdom. Pressure from two great powers makes this place like a chick constantly shaken by the wind.
My name in this world is Sieg Heisenberg.
This kingdom is called Melancia, a territory sandwiched between two great powers: the Holy Roman Empire on one side, and the Sauri Empire on the other. Both are like mountains pressing down on the land between them, while Melancia is merely a small valley trying to survive amid forces far greater than itself.
This situation has caused our kingdom to completely lose its sovereignty. If war breaks out between those two empires, Melancia will send resources and soldiers to both under the pretext of "neutrality."
In the eyes of other kingdoms, the king of Melancia is nothing more than a lackey. Envoys often treat our king not as a leader, but like a servant who must obey the orders of those more powerful.
And that is only the international perspective. The situation within the country is far worse. All forms of administrative crime run rampant, corruption eats away at the government from within, and the existing laws are barely enforced properly. Even high-ranking officials frequently abuse their positions for personal gain, while the people—who should be the priority—are the ones who suffer.
Melancia is not only squeezed by great powers from the outside; it is also torn apart by its own weaknesses. Even those around the king see him as nothing more than a field puppet—merely a symbol that can be moved according to their interests.
That is the state of my country. I feel that if a coup were to happen someday, I—who knows nothing about politics and intrigue—would end up at the guillotine without mercy.
I let out a long sigh, trying to push that image out of my mind. Meanwhile, Marie swiftly began dressing me in these troublesome formal clothes. Every fold and button seemed to reaffirm my status, while at the same time suppressing the laziness and freedom I still had left.
The process of getting dressed took nearly fifteen minutes.
Without waiting any longer, I walked alone toward the king's study. The tall, intricately carved doors opened with a heavy sound, and my gaze immediately fell upon the figure inside.
My father sat at his desk, looking utterly exhausted. Dark circles lined his eyes, his hair was messy, and his body looked frail—the image of someone burdened by hollow power.
He looked at me with heavy eyes.
"You're here, Sieg."
I observed his figure for a moment, then commented in a tone that was cold yet honest.
"You look a mess, Your Majesty."