Chapter 102

Chapter 102
## Chapter 102

‘He lacked the moment even to clean the crimson from the page.’

Lucian was already well aware of the declining state of the Emperor’s vitality.

However, even with that knowledge, a sovereign would naturally be desperate to hide such frailty. To openly display that his health had crumbled, instead of maintaining the illusion of recovery, pointed to a singular, grim reality.

‘He is balanced on the very brink.’

The Emperor drew breath still, but he was clearly lingering at the threshold of the grave. It would not be shocking if his heart stopped this very second. Had it been otherwise, he would have found the seconds required to wipe a stray droplet of blood from the imperial command.

“Your Grace, I bring the object His Majesty pledged to you.”

Glen’s tone was unsteady as he presented the document to Lucian.

By strict protocol, he should have unfurled the parchment and proclaimed its contents aloud as the Emperor’s voice before passing it over. Now, however, it appeared there was no mental room left for such basic decorum.

“…Inform His Majesty that I have taken on a burden of gratitude I must strive to settle for the duration of my life.”

Lucian dropped to one knee, holding out both hands to accept the decree.

The moment the weight of the scroll met his skin, a somber vibration left Glen’s throat.

“His Majesty commanded me to pass on a specific sentiment.”

“A sentiment?”

“‘Do not let it fade from memory.’”

The directive was brief and unadorned, yet the syllables were heavy with a sense of finality.

Remaining in his kneeling posture, Lucian gave a solemn, slow nod.

“I shall never let it fade.”

“I beg of you…”

Glen began to voice another thought but quickly swallowed it with a look of defeated acceptance, finally releasing the scroll.

Lucian snapped the wax seal and rolled the parchment open, his gaze igniting.

—To Lucian Grimaldi Valdek, Duke of Valdek and Grimaldi, and Margrave of Asagrim: I hereby vest in you the power to absolve the transgressions of unregistered mages and to formally induct them into service.

A string of technicalities followed, but none carried the weight of that opening declaration.

A total transfer of the right to pardon illegal magic users, inscribed by the Emperor’s own hand.

Merely making this document public possessed the power to shift the entire trajectory of the current age.

Lucian carefully stowed the parchment within the folds of his attire and turned his attention back to Glen.

“What is your immediate course? Do you depart for Tivron this instant?”

“That is my desire, but I have obligations to conclude before I vanish. I must consult with the Blue Rose Knight Order and the local military forces first.”

“Is it your intent to withdraw the former Asagrim garrison as well?”

“…That seems a remote possibility.”

Glen’s features clouded over.

Under normal circumstances, the troops detached from the Imperial Family and the Blue Rose Knight Order would stay put. They had been assigned to Lucian’s command until the cessation of hostilities with the House of Calix.

However, for the former Asagrim garrison, their mandate for remaining vanished the second the lordship of Asagrim was transferred.

“The most prudent path is for the garrison troops to head back individually over the roads. They must provide for their own travel for the time being, though the Imperial Family shall compensate them for their receipts in due time.”

Lucian fought to keep a cynical smirk from touching his lips.

Even if they were merely a local defense force, they were a disciplined body of men. Relocating them involved logistics and would inevitably be noticed. Yet, with zero logistical support, they were being told to find their own way home?

‘He is saying he will cast them aside because the burden of transport is too high.’

Then again, there was little incentive to fuss over a common territorial unit that lacked elite status—provided one didn’t mind the resentment of those being abandoned.

“Your Grace, I depart when the sun sets. If there is a final service I can perform for you, speak it now.”

It was a gesture to square their ledgers before their journeys separated.

Seeing no benefit in declining, Lucian voiced his requirement immediately.

“Prior to moving the mage from his cell, I plan to proclaim the new authority His Majesty has vested in me. As an Imperial Inspector, I require you to attest to the truth of my words.”

—

Lucian promptly summoned the local nobility to reveal the decree’s text.

He did this to preempt any potential disputes concerning Colin in the future. Regardless of the decree’s legitimacy, if Lucian declared it in isolation, critics might claim the document was a clever sham.

‘But if an Imperial Inspector stands forth to verify it personally, the rumors will have no soil to grow in.’

Predictably, the assembled lords were paralyzed by the revelation. For many, the news was simply too radical to digest.

“Not just a reprieve, but an invitation to official service? Did His Majesty truly dictate such terms?”

“Could there be a misinterpretation? I mean no disrespect to Your Grace, but perhaps the meaning was lost in the journey from the capital.”

Those who harbored enmity toward Lucian were expected to balk, but even his allies looked on with profound doubt.

Glen took a step forward, his voice cutting through the rising tide of skepticism.

“This is a command I took from His Majesty’s own hands and transported here myself.”

“….”

With that confirmation, the lords fell into a stunned silence.

Following the proclamation, Lucian ordered Colin to be moved from the stone cell to a comfortable suite. Colin was guided away by staff with a blank, shell-shocked expression, looking like a man who hadn’t yet reconciled with the physical world.

Tracking Colin’s departing form with a look of clear distaste, Glen spoke with a heavy heart.

“I believe I have reached the end of my utility to you.”

“I offer my thanks for your efforts. I won’t lose sight of your diligence, Sir Glen. And naturally, I shall keep the benevolence His Majesty has shown me at the forefront of my mind.”

“That is a relief to hear. Now, I shall attend to my concluding duties.”

Having spoken, Glen sought out Gareth, who led the Blue Rose Knight Order, and Rotier, the erstwhile Captain of the Guard for Asagrim.

When he told them he was forced to return to Tivron on his own, Gareth took the news with a cold composure. While they were originally pledged to Lucian for a far longer stint, his answer was sharp with a hint of mockery, as if the outcome was exactly what he expected.

“Entirely predictable. When are we scheduled to make our own return?”

“My apologies, but that remains an open question. It will be decided once we have a clearer view of the unfolding circumstances.”

“Understood. I shall remain here and perform my tasks in quietude, so please, Inspector, make your way back.”

“Sir Gareth, this is not an attempt to diminish the honor of the Blue Rose Knight Order.”

“I’m certain it isn’t.”

Glen opened his mouth to retort to Gareth’s coldness but merely exhaled a tired breath and turned away. It was clear Gareth was in no mood for explanations. He could only count it as a blessing that Gareth hadn’t caused a scene regarding his own status.

“W-What are you implying? You are ordering us to stay put?”

In contrast to Gareth’s cynical acceptance, Rotier responded with immediate heat. It was only logical, as the plight of the common garrison was leagues away from that of the elite knights.

“The defense force has no further mandate here. Asagrim is now the Duke’s personal fief, so what role are we meant to fill?”

“You have no specific role. You are free to return as you see fit.”

“You expect an entire body of troops to trek from Asagrim to Tivron on foot, without a single scrap of provisions? Just walk away like this?”

“Whether you move as a column or break apart, the logistics of the return are left to the garrison’s leadership. Any costs you pile up during the trip can be submitted as state expenses later.”

“What kind of madness is…!”

Rotier was absolutely stunned.

He hadn’t harbored fantasies of being whisked back through a magical portal, but this was beyond the pale. At the very least, they should have received a formal edict requesting aid from the lords along the route and a guarantee of safe passage in the Emperor’s name.

To be tossed aside when a single sentence of support would have sufficed was a bitter pill.

“We are the very garrison that held the line for His Majesty’s crown lands! You cannot discard us like refuse!”

“Do you think I am blind to your service? It is merely that the Imperial Family’s current situation is… precarious.”

What possible crisis could be so vast as to block such a minor administrative courtesy? Rotier’s glaring eyes demanded an answer, but Glen was trapped in silence.

In truth, Glen was the most aggrieved party in the room.

‘His Majesty has collapsed; how could I possibly draft a formal edict? We are already drowning just trying to manage the fallout from the uprising in Krepelt.’

Though the Emperor was at death’s door, he was legally still the ruler. Consequently, everyone was terrified to mobilize or direct troops without his direct signature.

Furthermore, following the end of Sigmund, the soldiery was spiraling into chaos and slaughter. The atmosphere was far too volatile to worry about a provincial garrison whose contract had expired.

“I ask for your understanding.”

“….”

That was the limit of what Glen could offer without revealing the secret instability of the throne.

Predictably, such empty words did nothing to pacify Rotier.

Glen turned away from Rotier’s burning resentment and made his exit.

—

The moment his obligations were met, Glen departed without a formal escort or crowd. When Lucian suggested a proper send-off, he declined with polite curtness.

“This is a forced march. Forgive me, but I lack the peace of mind required for a slow goodbye.”

It was a comment that might have been interpreted as an insult, but Lucian felt the weight behind Glen’s anxiety. When the spirit is in such turmoil, no amount of formal pleasantry can soothe the gut.

And so, Glen activated a dimensional portal on his own outside the walls of Asagrim and vanished into the void.

Once the dust had settled, Lucian went to the guest chambers he had provided for Colin.

“I’m entering.”

Creeeak.

“….”

As Lucian swung the door wide, he found Colin sitting in a trance. The way the man’s eyes blinked suggested he was still struggling to process the shift in his reality.

“Wake up. I can guess what you’re feeling, but don’t let your brain melt. Do I have to strike you to bring you back to earth?”

“…What is the plan for my future now?”

This was a profound shock to the system.

Lucian let out a dry chuckle and pulled a chair over to face him.

“What do you mean, what happens? You’ll be officially hired and work as a formal member of my staff.”

“In what capacity?”

“I’ve been thinking. ‘Court Mage’ feels a bit too grand, and ‘hired mage’ sounds like a mercenary. I’m leaning toward just designating you as a consultant.”

“….”

“If it’s feasible, recruit the other mages from your circle as well. If they have talent, I’ll find them a role. If they’re dead weight, I’ll send them packing.”

“Heh.”

Colin let out a jagged laugh at Lucian’s blunt, matter-of-fact tone. His lips were curved in a smile, yet thick tears were tracking down his face. It seemed the reality of the rights he had just secured was finally sinking in.

“You’re telling me that decades of agony have concluded this abruptly? That the shadow hanging over us for three centuries evaporates right here? Great heavens, truly…!”

While Colin wept softly into his hands, Lucian watched him without a word. He couldn’t grasp the full scale of that relief, but having stepped out from under a permanent death sentence, it was natural for Colin to be shattered. It was even more intense because it wasn’t just his life, but the legacy of his entire order that had been saved.

Eventually, Colin scrubbed at his raw, red eyes and looked up.

“It has been thirty years since I last bothered to look for a higher power. Lord, I never imagined the phrase ‘Great heavens’ would ever feel right in my mouth again.”

“I hate to ruin the mood of your celebration, but I’m not doing this so the mages can just live in a fairy tale. Just as I’ve invested in you, you’ll be expected to produce results for me.”

“I understand that completely.”

“And if you prove to be a failure, I’ll throw you out. I didn’t wrestle this pardon from the Emperor because I felt a pang of pity. I did it because I have a use for you. Keep that in mind.”

Despite the coldness of Lucian’s warning, Colin’s grin only grew wider.

“My predecessor used to preach that mages were meant to be the pillars of advice and power for lords. In that era, the status of the lord a mage served was a reflection of the mage’s own skill.”

“I suspect your master never actually witnessed those times himself.”

“It was three hundred years ago, so I suppose he hadn’t. The point remains that even in the golden age of magic, there was a hierarchy and competition. And, naturally, consequences for failure.”

It was a fundamental law of the world that the useless were discarded. He had no intention of being arrogant enough to demand a free ride just because they were mages or a formerly hunted people. By brokering a pardon with the Emperor, Lucian had already given them more than they ever dreamed of.

“Utilize us as you see fit, Your Grace. If we are found lacking, cast us away. If we overstep our bounds and rebel, take our heads. Treat us exactly as the lords of the old world treated their sorcerers.”

“Are you certain you’re comfortable with that? Even though it involves the very kin you just rescued?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Colin nodded firmly.

“What value is there in those who cannot be satisfied with the same status held during the golden age? If there is anyone so ignorant of their station that they dare to cross Your Grace, I will be the one to strike them down with a bolt of lightning.”