The Empress truly did not want to get involved in such matters. She was a cautious woman. Living in the Imperial Palace, she had come to realize that surviving for a long time was what truly made one strong.
A dazzling flower may not last ten days before withering, but a humble pine tree remains green throughout the seasons for over a decade.
A life that blooms and withers so quickly was not the life the Empress desired. But somehow, it seemed she now had to face a great challenge, albeit unintentionally.
It was her son’s doing, who had informed her without any prior consultation. A matter that, if mishandled, could drag even her into the abyss. But he was her own flesh and blood. She had no choice but to cooperate.
“That knightess came to pay her respects to me before the people of the Church Country arrived.”
It was a simple matter. Milenia was her son’s concubine. Given the difference in status, she could not aspire to be the Crown Princess. But if she desired the position of a concubine or a consort, like the Empress herself had once been, the story would be different.
Thus, she had no choice but to show respect to the Third Empress, her mother-in-law. Milenia often visited, displaying her filial piety.
‘That child is, after all, the son of that man.’
The Empress sighed deeply within.
She had lived her entire life bearing the yoke of being a concubine. Empress. The title sounded grand, but it was just that—a title. She was never the Empress, nor could she ever be.
Since the Emperor and the Empress were on good terms, the lives of the concubines were not easy. They were not abused or mistreated, but they did not live a life of love either. Now, her son only had Milenia, but if he ascended the throne, would that remain the same?
Truly, she did not want the young girl to walk the same path as hers. But if the girl herself desired it, there was nothing she could do to stop her.
If Milenia were her own daughter, she would have slapped her to dissuade her, but since she wasn’t, what more could she say?
She could only hope that there would be no regrets.
“So, I know the Empress’s location. That child told me.”
“Then you can tell me. There was no need to wait. You should have told me earlier.”
“But may I ask one thing? What exactly do you seek by getting involved in this matter?”
Ranga looked puzzled, her tail curling into a question mark.
“Such matters are not honorable. Unlike me, who cannot escape even if I wanted to, you have done nothing yet. You can still leave the Imperial Palace now.”
“Why are you saying this?”
“In the past, I loved that person. I thought even the position of a concubine would be fine. But some decisions cannot be undone and only leave regrets.”
If you are truly confident that you will not regret it, I will tell you the Empress’s location.
The Empress said so and sipped her tea to soothe her parched throat.
It was too late for her to withdraw now. If she declared that she had nothing to do with this matter, who would believe her?
Edmund was her own son. A filial son to his mother. How could she distance herself from what he had done?
But this Ranga was different. She had no ties to the Empire, nor any reason to create any. Such a decision could be a terrifying one, even for a Master, leaving regrets.
“There will be no regrets. The Empire did not offer to help me, but the Church Country did.”
Ranga understood why she said that. The wolf clan, though not particularly intelligent, had a certain sharpness.
They knew what others knew and might or might not know what others didn’t.
“So, tell me. Where is the Empress now?”
What could the Empress say to that?
She whispered into the wolf’s ear. Ranga nodded, then left through the door, disappearing like the wind. She vanished from sight before the teacup could cool. The Empress chuckled.
“The die has been cast, Edmund.”
Now, as a mere woman, she could not interfere. The conflict had begun, and the Empress waited with a heavy heart for the outcome.
It was her son driving out her husband. Whichever side won, her heart would not be at ease.
“That die cannot be picked up again, so I hope there will be no regrets.”
The Empress took out a bottle of wine. She, who did not enjoy alcohol, poured it into a teacup today. The surface of the wine in the cup turned black.
The woman quietly gazed at the cup. It was a joy to spend the last moments of life with wine. The best would be not having to drink it, but that was uncertain.
Plans are made by humans, but their execution is left to the heavens. The Empress knew that even the most meticulous human plans could crumble upon encountering unexpected variables.
If things went wrong, she, as the Empress, could be tortured to death. If things really went wrong, it might not be the Empire but the Temple’s people who would torture her.
Living in the Imperial Palace, one inevitably gains experience. The Empress knew well that there were no eternal enemies or allies in the world.
Now, the Church Country was on her son’s side, but how long would that alliance last? If things went wrong, it could break as soon as tomorrow.
Well, anyway, her life had been full of regrets.
But it wasn’t a life of only regrets. She had lived a seemingly splendid life.
She never lacked food, wore luxurious clothes, and lived like that. The Empress now had little attachment to life. If the time came to die, she wanted to end her life peacefully.
*
‘The Empire has truly reached its end.’
The closest being to the Beast King. The descendant of the Gray Wolf clan.
The woman who called herself Ranga, Kisea, walked slowly through the Imperial Palace, wearing a pointed hat. Thinking of herself as the master of such a place didn’t feel too bad.
This place, the Rose Palace, was where the women of the royal family lived. Ardein had lived here as a child, along with other princesses and the Emperor’s consorts.
Naturally, it was built to suit the sensibilities of women, and even to Kisea’s eyes, it was quite pleasing.
‘To think I’m walking through such a place.’
Exchanging a nod with the gargoyle statue that was the only thing out of place here, Kisea passed through the corridor. Originally, that thing should have come to life and blocked her path. But now, it was merely a decoration, true to its name.
Originally, this place was the deepest heart of the Imperial Palace, managed under strict security. But now that all magic-based defenses had vanished, all that remained was a group of knights.
‘In this state, there’s no need to be cautious.’
They posed no threat at all. The mission given by the Church Country was so easy it made her yawn.
Of course, her mind was filled with other thoughts even as she worked. She could already see herself, with the Church Country’s help, driving out that woman and establishing her own kingdom.
Someday, when she became a true queen—not just a self-proclaimed one but one with a real throne—she would build a palace like this. Kisea muttered to herself. She strolled through the Rose Palace as if she were taking a leisurely walk in the mountains.
“You… Ranga Kisea!”
Soon, she encountered a group of fully armed knights. An all-female knight order guarding this male-forbidden area. The Rose Knight Order.
However, despite being fully clad in armor and helmets, there was noticeable unease among them. They were intimidated by a woman dressed in nothing but plain clothes.
“Why are you… Are you truly planning to become a traitor?”
The Rose Knight Order’s captain, Sophie Well, shouted in disbelief. In truth, that was all she could do. Her opponent was a Master recognized across the continent, while she was merely an Expert.
‘That sword is undoubtedly… the famous Sir Urban’s masterpiece, Ascalon!’
In fact, even in terms of equipment, the opponent was superior. The sword Ranga Kisea held seemed ordinary, but it was actually the strongest sword crafted by Sir Urban himself.
A sword that could withstand Power Techniques without being imbued with them. In the hands of a Master, armor meant nothing.
If it were the legendary friend of the first Emperor, even a blade of grass in his hand could cut through Ascalon. No matter how great the weapon, what truly mattered was the person wielding it.
But if Sophie Well had that capability, she wouldn’t be in such a low position facing an obvious intruder. No need for words. She would have cut her down in one stroke.
Since she couldn’t do that, it was clear she couldn’t stop her opponent with a sword, so she had no choice but to try with words.
“Ranga. You should reconsider. Do you truly want to live as a traitor, hunted for the rest of your life?”
“A traitor? I am more on the side of the new Emperor than anyone else.”
But without the power to stop her opponent, mere words rarely worked. Ranga scoffed at the frightened pack of dogs and ignored them.
From the moment they showed fear, she no longer saw them as worthy of conversation.
“So, where is the Empress?”
The grasslands are harsh. A single cold wave can strip the rich of their livestock and reduce them to poverty. In such a place, where survival depends entirely on nature, a woman who had lived her entire life by the logic of strength and weakness.
Such cowards would not even be considered warriors on the grasslands. A true warrior of the grasslands charges forward, eyes mad with rage, even knowing they cannot win. She completely ignored them and focused on her original purpose for coming here.
“She is here.”
“Your Majesty!”
It was only upon seeing the powerless woman, the Empress, that her eyes lit up. The woman who should have been hidden in the deepest part for protection had given up hiding and stepped forward. The knights tried to stop her, but how? Could they rudely grab the Empress and pull her back?
“This way, at least, there won’t be bloodshed.”
The old woman, who couldn’t even withstand a single finger of Ranga’s, had lived her entire life as the Empress of the Empire.
The position shapes the person. As the nation’s mother, she stood quietly before Kisea.
When Kisea exuded her aura, the old woman’s legs trembled. But that was unavoidable. There are limits to what willpower can do. One cannot suppress the body’s reflexive trembling with will alone.
The Rose Knight Order’s knights looked at the Empress in shock. Though her voice trembled slightly, the old woman calmly responded to Ranga.
“So. Does Edmund want my head? Then take it.”
The Imperial Palace is a den of intrigue. Power itself has such attributes.
Just as human darkness naturally coalesces to give birth to a Death God, places where power intertwines are always dark. Living in such a place, one comes to realize that human life is not such a big deal.
But life is still life. Human lives are not equal.
“Haha, what are you saying? I didn’t know you were quite the joker.”
Ranga simply laughed. Whether the Empress lived or died was not her decision to make.
This old woman was both extremely important and not important at all. But one thing was certain: her status was not merely decorative.
