Chapter 179

Chapter 179
## Chapter 179

“…”

“…”

While the conversation between Hugo and Tristan carried on in the hallway, Lucian remained inside, seated across from his guest, Dennis.

Dennis had been trailing Lucian since the moment the banquet concluded, but now that he finally had the man’s undivided attention, his words failed him. He could only cast frequent, trembling glances at Lucian, his face pale with dread.

As the quiet stretched into a stifling, endless void, Lucian finally broke the silence, his tone sharp with impatience.

“Exactly how much of my time do you plan on wasting? If you have nothing of substance to say, get out.”

“Y-Your Grace.”

“Do you honestly believe that chanting ‘Your Grace’ a thousand times will magically grant me the ability to divine your thoughts?”

Dennis clamped his eyes shut as Lucian discarded the mask of polite etiquette, adopting a voice that carried the weight of absolute command.

If he stumbled over his words now or accidentally insulted Lucian, the very survival of the Imperial line might be forfeited. Pushed to the edge with no room to maneuver, Dennis collapsed to his knees.

Thud.

“Your Grace, I implore you! I beg for your leniency regarding the First Prince’s grave errors!”

“Hah.”

This wasn’t a request for a misunderstanding to be cleared; it was a desperate plea for the absolution of a crime. For a subordinate to beg such a thing of a high lord was beyond humiliating—it was pathetic.

Of course, Dennis was not the First Prince himself but merely a retainer, which lent the act a heavier weight. It was the duty of a steadfast servant to uphold their master’s honor even at the cost of their life. Yet, here was Dennis, actively trampling on the First Prince’s pride just to coax a spark of mercy from Lucian.

It wasn’t a move made out of ego. It was born from the paralyzing fear that if he didn’t act, he had no idea what fate would befall the First Prince.

“Transgressions and leniency. Those are quite the significant claims to hear from the lips of a mere follower rather than the First Prince himself.”

“How could I possibly hide the sun with my hand? The First Prince violated Your Grace’s confidence. If that is not an offense, the entire world would surely mock us for saying otherwise.”

“I suppose you have a point there.”

Lucian, who had been analyzing Dennis’s true motives, found himself giving a slow nod of concurrence.

To label Lucian a traitor—the very individual the Prince required as a pillar to reclaim his crown—was an act of staggering idiocy. Regardless of personal grievances, the Prince should have at least recognized the source of his own lifeblood. At this stage, it wasn’t merely a deficit of political acumen; the Prince was a leading candidate for the title of the Empire’s most monumental dimwit.

Seeing Lucian agree so readily, Dennis felt a surge of desperation.

“However…!”

“The Imperial dynasty will persist.”

Lucian lifted a hand, signaling Dennis to stop as he tried to scramble back to his feet. Dennis’s eyes grew wide at the exact words he had been praying to hear.

“I-Is that the truth?”

“The First Prince may have turned his back on me, but I remain a citizen of the Empire. I still carry a debt of honor to the Late Emperor; how could I ever extinguish the Imperial bloodline by my own hand?”

“Your Grace!”

“However.”

Lucian reached out and firmly gripped the shoulder of the elated Dennis. Dennis went still in an instant, realizing that this favor came with a price.

A quiet, low voice murmured directly into his ear.

“I require someone at the First Prince’s side to keep him in check.”

“Keep him in check?”

“Putting the Imperial family aside, the First Prince is a source of far too much chaos. In a worst-case scenario, I might be pushed to take actions I’d rather avoid.”

Dennis gulped at the icy threat, unable to formulate a response. Considering the First Prince’s temperament, it wouldn’t be shocking if he had absorbed zero lessons from the day’s disasters.

“Keep a close eye on him. Make sure he does nothing reckless. Do this so that the Imperial house might last for eternity.”

Dennis’s pupils shook.

A servant’s calling was to obey their master’s desires. However, if he continued to follow the First Prince’s whims without question, the Imperial lineage would surely be severed. To save the dynasty, as Lucian proposed, he had to prioritize the First Prince’s safety—even if it meant acting against the Prince’s own will.

“…I will keep your words in my heart.”

After a long interval of agonizing internal conflict, Dennis finally bowed his head at Lucian’s command. Lucian smirked and gave Dennis a firm pat on the shoulder.

“You truly are a faithful servant of this Empire.”

—

A few moments later, Dennis exited the private study, and Tristan walked in as if they were swapping guard shifts.

Lucian turned his gaze to Tristan and spoke without emotion.

“What is the reason for your visit?”

“Well…”

“I’m not actually asking for an explanation. Brother, you have no real reason to see me in person. You’ve surely gathered all the vital information through Hugo already.”

“Your Grace.”

“That’s enough.”

Before Tristan could utter another syllable, Lucian silenced him by tapping his fingers against the wood of the desk.

“I will ask you only one thing. Is it your desire to become the Family Head of House Valdek?”

“…Yes.”

Despite how degrading the question felt, Tristan was forced to answer honestly. If he claimed otherwise, Lucian would likely discard him instantly.

“Then go and assemble the battalions stationed outside the city gates, determine what resources are needed immediately, and bring a report to me. I will arrange a proper base for you to occupy from this point forward.”

“I must apologize, but I lack the capital for such an—”

“Naturally, I shall be the one covering the expenses.”

“All of them?”

“It isn’t as if I can bleed gold from a brother who has nothing. I suppose I’ll just have to take on the cost myself.”

Tristan blinked, stunned. He loathed admitting it, but his political worth had plummeted the moment the Northern Kingdom was revived. If Lucian wished it, he could simply seize control of the Grand Ducal House for himself.

Yet, Lucian was permitting Tristan to keep his soldiers and was even offering to fund their upkeep. This was happening despite the fact that the simplest route would be to strip Tristan of his authority and treat him as a puppet.

‘By leaving me with my own men, he wants me to step up and eventually take the reins of the family properly. It means Lucian truly has no desire for the title of Family Head.’

Tristan couldn’t wrap his head around it. He had heard Lucian’s reasoning before—that he would occupy the seat once to protect his birthrights and then hand it over. But what could he possibly want more than the status of Family Head, the very peak of those rights, to put on such a performance?

“Your Grace.”

“Is there something else on your mind?”

“If the title of Family Head isn’t your ultimate prize, then what is it you are chasing?”

Driven by a curiosity he couldn’t suppress, Tristan let the question slip out. Lucian looked at him in silence for a few seconds before letting out a dry chuckle.

“The House of Valdek is a lineage of immense history. We were the ones who built the pillars of this Empire alongside the founder, Wilhelm the Great.”

“Yes, that is a known fact.”

“Based on that ancient tie, we have merged our blood with the Imperial family on several occasions. Imperial essence flows in our veins, no matter how diluted it might be.”

“Well, that’s…”

Tristan’s eyes darted wildly as he struggled to find words. He finally grasped the scope of Lucian’s ambition.

“Y-Your Grace.”

Lucian beamed at the stunned, terrified Tristan.

“If a man is born into this world, he should have grand ambitions. Wouldn’t you agree?”

—

—The Northern Kingdom has been reborn.

In the wake of Sir Eisen’s burial, a single piece of intelligence trickled out of the North and sent shockwaves across the entire continent.

Technically speaking, the Northern Kingdom hadn’t been formally re-established yet. They had only secured the First Prince’s ‘authorization,’ but no official proclamation had been issued. A nation could only be truly recognized after the internal bureaucracy was set, the hierarchy of lords and vassals was finalized, and a coronation took place.

However, to other power-hungry men, those technicalities were irrelevant. Now that Lucian possessed the legitimacy granted by the First Prince and all internal dissent had crumbled, the restoration of the kingdom was just a matter of time.

“Establishing a new throne within the Empire?! How can this be allowed?!”

“In an Empire that hasn’t seen a new Kingship in a millennium, he has the audacity to call himself a King!”

“This is transparent insurrection! We must assemble a Coalition Force immediately to crush him!”

Lords, shaken by the sudden rise of such a formidable power, screamed their protests. However, their shouts were loud but ultimately toothless, failing to change the tide. There were several reasons for this, but the primary obstacle was that a true alliance was functionally impossible.

‘I am aware he has to be stopped. But since every group is supporting a different member of the imperial branches, we can’t form a pact on the grounds that he’s a traitor.’

‘Since everyone has a different view on who the true heir is, everyone except their own candidate is technically a traitor. How can we join hands with other rivals just because a new enemy appeared?’

‘What, are we going to meet and sign a contract to temporarily decide what defines a rebel? We’d be the laughingstock of the century.’

If they all served one crown, the justification of a ‘noble cause’ might have worked. But these power-seekers had spent years insisting their chosen branch members were the only legitimate heirs. Because they were fighting over the throne, they had to treat one another as usurpers.

To suddenly point at Lucian and claim, “That man is a bigger traitor than you, so let’s be friends,” was a farce.

The only group with any real standing was the First Prince’s, as he was the most direct successor—but the First Prince was currently under Lucian’s thumb. Far from building a coalition, those who backed the First Prince now lived in fear of when Lucian might use the Prince’s authority to lure them into a snare.

“The First Prince’s consent has been secured, so there is no reason to wait. Start the coronation arrangements at once.”

While other factions wallowed in panic, Lucian acted with speed. They likely couldn’t do much to stop him, but there was always the risk that some fanatic might march all the way North out of pure desperation.

‘Even if I can break them easily, it isn’t wise to show that any resistance exists before the crowning.’

In reality, the seeds of chaos weren’t just on the outside. More accurately, the greatest danger was internal.

‘First Prince Claude.’

He might be nothing more than a living stamp for legitimacy right now, but he was the same man who had once escaped the heart of Tivron using an enchanted relic. If Lucian became arrogant thinking the game was won, the Prince might slip through his fingers like an eel and create a massive problem.

To ensure no such thing happened, Lucian assigned Marius, Colin, and even Helen to maintain a constant watch over the First Prince.

“If you sense even the slightest flicker of mana, do not hesitate to restrain him. If the moment demands it, I grant you permission to use a reasonable amount of force.”

“Naturally. If anything smells foul, we will act without delay.”

Marius and his two pupils had eyes that shone at Lucian’s order. Even though a Prince escaping would fall on their heads, they didn’t look worried. Instead, they kept adjusting their staves as if they were actually hoping for a breakout attempt.

Feeling a sudden twinge of concern, Lucian quickly followed up.

“Remember the rule: ‘if the moment demands it.’ You aren’t to harm him if you can hold him without violence.”

“We will keep that in mind. However, please recognize that as practitioners of magic, our physical durability is quite low. In a crisis, we would have no choice but to utilize spells to bring him down.”

“I understand that, certainly.”

“And in the heat of a confrontation, it’s only human to make minor errors when gauging the intensity of a hex.”

Lucian had a strong suspicion those ‘errors’ were definitely part of the plan. As Lucian debated whether he could actually trust them with this task, Marius offered a thin smile.

“Do not fret. We harbor absolutely no bitterness regarding the three centuries of witch persecutions conducted by the Imperial house.”

“…”