Duty (1)
Chapter 172
Ernst reported to the Emperor about the events that had taken place recently.
Most of it was true, but he intentionally omitted Ray’s heroic deeds.
By omitting Ray’s contributions, Ernst’s own accomplishments appeared inflated by default.
For the first time in a long while, Ernst felt a sense of embarrassment, though his expression didn’t change.
While this act might make it seem like he had stolen credit in the short term, he was certain that this decision would benefit Ray in the long run.
After hearing the report, the Emperor looked displeased.
The outcome of the situation itself wasn’t bad. Ernst had efficiently completed the tasks assigned by the Emperor, recovered all the Dragonhearts, and successfully thwarted an attack that could have caused significant harm to the Empire.
It was undoubtedly an excellent result.
However, it was confirmed that demons had emerged at the heart of the Empire and meddled with affairs.
While the appearance of demons provided justification for purging or weakening some nobles, the Emperor couldn’t feel pleased about it.
Ernst reiterated his point.
“Based on the abilities and circumstances of the demon, it is speculated to be ‘Eridanus,’ a demon who revealed their form approximately 600 years ago.”
“…”
This was a demon of considerable power.
Moreover, according to Ernst’s testimony, Eridanus demonstrated strength close to that of a Lord-level entity right in the middle of the Empire, not within the Demonic Realm.
The Emperor clearly understood the implications.
“Tough times may be ahead.”
The Emperor turned to Poibos, who was kneeling beside Ernst.
“The duty you must shoulder is immense.”
Poibos bowed deeply.
The Emperor gazed at Poibos for a moment, sighed, and then briefly discussed subsequent strategies with Ernst.
They decided to increase support from the Intelligence Bureau and Special Task Force, as well as monitor foreign nations more closely—simple yet highly effective measures.
After a short discussion, the Emperor officially praised Ernst’s achievements.
Although Ernst had used the Warp Gate without royal permission, his success in slaying the demon far outweighed any procedural infractions.
To nitpick over formalities concerning someone who had prevented a near-catastrophic division of the Empire would be quite absurd.
The Emperor promised Ernst that detailed rewards would be finalized soon and then dismissed him.
After Ernst left, Poibos remained alone with the Emperor and straightened his posture even further.
A look of sympathy crossed the Emperor’s eyes as he gazed down at Poibos.
“If the will of the demons truly begins to descend upon the world again, you must become the focal point of humanity and fight against the great calamity.”
“I will succeed.”
“My lack of virtue has left me unable to provide you with a sufficient foundation as we face difficult times ahead. However, I believe your wisdom will allow you to navigate these perilous paths well.”
“…”
“At least secure an heir. The royal family has dwindled significantly. Your position is unstable, so producing an heir is absolutely necessary.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
“I would like to see a child born before I die.”
“Your Majesty, how could such a thing…”
The Emperor cut off Poibos’ predictable response.
Rising from his seat, the Emperor descended from the throne.
Though he still appeared robust, the Emperor knew well that his time was limited.
“Follow me.”
Together, the Emperor and Poibos walked through the palace.
As they continued toward the innermost part of the palace, even the Royal Guards who had been escorting them disappeared.
Reaching the depths of the palace, the Emperor approached a wall and extended his hand.
With an incomprehensible mechanical sound, the wall, which had originally been solid, transformed into a blue light, guiding the Emperor and Poibos into a space beyond.
Blinded temporarily by the bright light, Poibos reopened his eyes.
A vast plaza came into view, its surroundings made entirely of a crystal-like material.
Walking to the small fountain at the center of the plaza, the Emperor instructed Poibos to slice his finger and drip blood onto it.
After Poibos did so, the fountain shimmered momentarily before returning to its original state.
“From this moment onward, you are the Crown Prince of the Empire and possess the authority to partially act on behalf of the Emperor.”
Poibos knelt.
The Emperor personally helped him rise and then walked to the edge of the plaza.
Embedded along the walls of the plaza were rows of blue orbs extending endlessly.
“Place your hand on one,” commanded the Emperor.
Following the order, Poibos touched an orb.
Instantly, his consciousness was pulled into another space.
“…!!!”
Poibos witnessed visions.
He saw the very moment when the history of the Empire began, right before his eyes.
The visions continued to change.
Someone’s perspective of past events relentlessly filled Poibos’ vision.
He understood how those events intertwined with causality to reach their conclusions.
Partially losing his senses as he watched the visions, Poibos felt a headache and stepped back.
Huff!
As the visions faded, Poibos wobbled back to the plaza.
Regaining his composure after a brief moment, Poibos looked at the Emperor.
He was surprised.
He had thought several days had passed, but it seemed only a few seconds had elapsed for the Emperor.
The Emperor took a deep breath as he looked at the hundreds of orbs embedded in the wall, slightly excited.
“More than a thousand years of the Empire’s history reside here.”
“…”
“It can fill the gaps in your experience.”
This was a place where not only the experiences and histories of past Emperors were recorded but also valuable records of heroes called such.
While no human could fully internalize all the knowledge here, it was the optimal place for a wise individual with insufficient experience to compensate for their shortcomings.
Walking silently in admiration alongside the Emperor, Poibos stopped suddenly.
Where there should have been orbs, a red barrier blocked the way.
“What is that?”
“A sealed record.”
“…”
“A record from 600 years ago. It is said that the emperor of that era personally sealed it.”
“…!”
“To unseal it, the Imperial Sword is required. If forced open, the records inside will also be destroyed.”
The Emperor turned to Poibos and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“When the time comes, the Imperial Sword will return to the royal family. Wait for it.”
Poibos followed the Emperor with a troubled smile.
*
Count Philip had recently been plagued by headaches.
Knowing that Ray had earned the disapproval of the Empire’s Swordmaster, Count Philip couldn’t help but worry.
In such a vast Imperial Capital, what terrible luck would lead to a direct encounter with the Empire’s Swordmaster?
Count Philip let out an exasperated sigh.
It was literally an emergency situation.
However, making too much noise might raise unnecessary suspicion, so moving recklessly was difficult.
“Jimy, take good care of Lea.”
“Yes, sir.”
Recently, Jimy had minimized Lea’s contact with outsiders as much as possible.
Since only a handful of people knew that Lea wasn’t Jimy’s biological daughter, keeping the mouths of just a few people shut would minimize the chances of major problems arising.
After hearing Jimy’s report, Count Philip went to find Clemens.
Escorted by Jimy and Pico, the Count ascended the stairs of the building where Clemens resided.
Shh-shh-shh-scratch!
“…?”
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, the Count looked down the hallway.
Instead of a large cockroach, an elf was crawling around, munching on an apple.
Staring at this spectacle, the Count asked Jimy cautiously.
“Have you ever heard that the Elven race walks on all fours?”
“Never heard of it.”
At the sound of their conversation, Mineher finally turned around.
Seeing the Count, Mineher spun her bottom around a few more times before awkwardly standing upright.
Still unsteady, Mineher spat the apple she’d been chewing onto her hand after fumbling with her mouth for a bit.
Finally freed, Mineher gave a slight bow.
“Ah, hello there…?”
The Count scrutinized Mineher with the same gaze one might give to a primitive animal before asking.
“Where is Clemens?”
“He’s in that room over there…”
“Thank you.”
Despite everything, the Count maintained basic courtesy before passing Mineher.
Once the Count entered Clemens’ room, Mineher subtly checked her surroundings, crouched down again within seconds, and hummed a little tune with the apple still in her mouth.
*
Clemens warmly welcomed the Count, who hadn’t visited in a while.
The Count and Clemens had now established a certain level of trust, thanks entirely to Clemens’ efforts.
Because of this, the Count felt quite comfortable opening up to Clemens.
“The Empire is in turmoil. Be mindful of your words and actions. Avoid contact with outsiders for a while.”
“I will be cautious.”
“Pico will stay here to guard you. It’s not you I suspect, but rather the elf.”
Clemens chuckled softly and glanced outside the door.
“Mineher hasn’t caused any major issues.”
“I hope it stays that way. If the elf does anything suspicious, please inform me. I don’t want bloodshed either, so I’d prefer to prevent any problems before they arise.”
“Understood.”
After finishing their necessary conversation, the Count changed the subject.
“You should have become a painter.”
The Count admired a landscape painting drawn by Clemens, secretly marveling.
Despite having started painting not too long ago, Clemens’ skills had developed remarkably.
Looking at the painting, which vividly conveyed the chill of a misty dawn, the Count shifted his gaze.
On the wall hung a painting of an elf sitting on a chair.
The elf in the painting was elegant and beautiful.
It was hard to imagine that the model for this painting was the same creature that had been crawling on all fours moments earlier.
There were quite a few other paintings of elves.
Upon seeing another beautiful portrait of a smiling elf, the Count wore an odd expression.
Sensing the strange atmosphere, Clemens flailed his hands.
“N-nothing like that!”
Clemens explained earnestly that he simply lacked models and thus painted many pictures of elves.
After answering that he understood, the Count stood up.
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll try my best to prepare it for you.”
“I am grateful for your kindness, my lord.”
*
After meeting with Clemens, Count Philip returned to his study and leaned back in his chair.
Now, except for abandoning his territory and fleeing, he had mostly completed all the precautions and preparations he could.
All he could do now was hope things went smoothly.
“…”
The Count was worried about Alesya.
Was she being pushed around and disrespected everywhere she went? His heart ached unnecessarily.
If only she wouldn’t stick her neck out and stayed quiet, she wouldn’t get into trouble—but the Alesya the Count knew was definitely not the type to do that.
Sighing once more, the Count opened a letter lying on his desk.
His expression quickly worsened.
“Count?”
Didier voiced his concern and called out to the Count.
The letter informed the Count that there was trouble involving Ulte, the Viscount.
