Chapter 257

The outer walls of Paltennoia appeared on the horizon. To be precise, their outlines began to faintly emerge.

The capital of the Empire is the center of its industry, manufacturing, and culture. This meant that the black smoke covering Paltennoia’s skies wasn’t just ordinary dark clouds.

Paltennoia, the so-called city where the sun doesn’t shine. The black smoke pouring out from the heart of the city is a product of modern engineering. Because of this, the great city is shrouded in twilight shadows all year round.

“Such grandeur… Back in the day, it was just a human tribe that knew how to handle iron tools,” Abel muttered absentmindedly. The black smoke, like a dragon’s breath, rose straight into the sky, spreading out somewhere above to form clouds. Occasionally, blue currents of electricity flickered through them.

From a distance, it looked exactly like a storm cloud. But that was the byproduct of factories handling magic circuits, and below, uncontrolled primal magic was likely scattering and dispersing.

“If they knew how to handle iron tools when other tribes were barely using bronze, it means they’ve now mastered ‘technology’ unlike other nations that still rely on iron,” Abel mused.

“Impressive,” Abel smiled warmly. Though the capital’s actions—polluting the atmosphere and reshaping nature at will—were no different from destruction, she seemed unbothered.

When Fernandez asked about it, Abel shook her head and replied, “Why should nature maintain harmony? Even the term ‘nature’ is laughable. The material world has always been about survival. Just as tigers sharpen their claws and snakes wield their fangs, humans compete with technology.”

The perspective of an ancient dragon was quite different from others. However, it was clear that not all immortals shared this view.

As they approached the capital, loud coughing sounds came from the back seat.

“I’m dying!! What is that smoke?!”

“It’s the byproduct of burning magic stones.”

“The Goddess is dying! The Goddess is in pain!”

Freya screamed and caused a scene. It was clear she wasn’t doing well. While the magic in the air wasn’t harmful enough to damage divinity, Paltennoia’s atmosphere was far from friendly.

“I can’t take it anymore!!”

Freya swung her hand, and a bud bloomed at her fingertips, sprouting fresh leaves. She buried her face in the leaves, gasping for air.

“Wake me up when we arrive!”

It could be seen as a kind of motion sickness. Fernandez shrugged and pulled on the reins. Soon, they crossed the hills and entered the main highway.

From the low hill, the vast plain stretched out below. The highway, like a spider’s web, extended across the plain. Each small branch of the road was large enough for a legion to march, and Paltennoia, located at the center, looked almost like a still-life painting.

Since its founding, this sacred ancient city had never been reduced to a battlefield. This meant that even the smallest brick in its walls was an ancient relic with a thousand years of history.

Thus, Paltennoia itself held magical power. A history long enough becomes myth, and a thousand years signified the period since the Celestial War when civilized society first took shape.

A time when myth and history coexisted. When deserts, jungles, grasslands, and forests were humanity’s enemies. From that era when the world outside settlements was entirely hostile, Paltennoia has stood as a city symbolizing human civilization and will.

Towards this pulsating, colossal city, a carriage slowly made its way along the road. A beautiful carriage adorned with flowers.

* * *

“Halt! Identify yourselves!”

“We’ve come to see His Highness, King Carvelier. Where is His Highness?”

The combination of a cheap carriage decorated with flowers was too conspicuous. When Fernandez crossed the capital’s gate, the gate guards immediately stopped them and approached.

“Are you guests of the Commander-in-Chief?”

“There’s urgent news from Ribue and Bülrang. We must report directly to His Highness. Please guide us.”

“Can you prove it?”

“Many in His Highness’s retinue would recognize my face.”

“Good. You there! Escort them to Limbarga, 37th Street!”

“Yes, sir!”

The guards’ inspection was surprisingly reasonable. Considering that during this time, gate guards in other territories or small nations rarely refused bribes, this was even more notable.

-Suspicious.

Faijashi grumbled. It was true. In fact, that made it even more suspicious.

In this situation where the Imperial Palace’s corruption was evident, the system was too well-organized. Moreover, the expressions and gazes of the outer gate guards showed no signs of being influenced by vampires or the like.

Had they hidden themselves better than expected? Or was there another reason? Fernandez followed the guard’s guidance, lost in thought as he drove the carriage.

* * *

Watching Fernandez’s flustered face, Erbe sipped his tea with an awkward expression. Fernandez soon frowned and set down his teacup.

“So, you still haven’t met the Emperor in person?”

“The permission to enter the palace hasn’t come through. If I were the Emperor, now would be the perfect opportunity, with no military forces in the capital.”

“…Indeed.”

Fernandez leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. Strange. Had he missed something? The moment Fernandez arrived in the capital, he sought out Duke Carvelier to gauge the Emperor’s schemes.

If the Emperor was as cunning as he thought, he would have already mobilized the nearby regions…








He should have exerted some influence over the two occupying Carveliers. Whether it was political or through the use of magic.

But they’re still refusing Duke Erbe’s audience? It’s already been over two and a half months since Duke Erbe took charge of Paltennoia’s defense. During that long period, the seeds of civil war have sprouted across the empire, and the authority of the imperial family has been severely undermined.

The politically correct move would have been to either coax or corrupt Duke Erbe, or kill him and absorb the nearby military forces. But the Emperor is currently secluded within the imperial palace.

“So, what’s the plan now? If you’re thinking of storming the palace right away, I personally would like to oppose that.”

“Of course, I won’t do that.”

Regardless of the imperial palace’s defense level, invading it without permission would put us at a significant disadvantage in the long-term battle for justification. It’s not just victory we need—Fernandez needs a *perfect* victory.

We must devise a plan to transfer the throne to Rene Philippa without any discord while tearing off the empire’s limbs and letting new flesh grow.

Nobles are political creatures, and the Elector Counts are the cream of the crop among them. If we attack the Emperor first, even after winning the war, we could be branded as the “Duke’s family who coveted the throne and violated the imperial family.”

Power comes from the edge of a blade, but with civil war looming, even after taking bold action, we need a flawless political justification to avoid backlash.

“I’ll visit the church.”

“Good. Then I’ll also make some moves separately.”

The conversation ended there. Fernandez didn’t bother with formalities and simply got up and left the room.

* * *

By the time I finished unpacking at Erbe’s mansion, it was already evening. Fernandez checked his equipment and glanced out the window.

A deep blue night was approaching beyond the cloudy sky. The city was always dark due to the thick black smoke, but the city’s night was closer to pitch black.

One by one, the magic lamps lit up, casting a pale glow. Watching the faint light of the magic lamps, Fernandez adjusted his greatsword and stepped outside.

“Are you going alone?”

“Stay and rest. The journey was long.”

“Your Excellency.”

“It’s fine. I’m just going to the church to gather some information. And you’re in a position where your face shouldn’t be known publicly.”

Kirhas, who had been following, pouted and stepped back. It wouldn’t be good for Kirhas, who is already widely known, to be spotted in the capital at this time.

Information is a weapon that grows stronger the more it’s hidden. Externally, Kirhas is believed to be either in the wasteland or managing beastmen near Bülrang.

If her absence were revealed, it’s hard to predict what variables might come into play. Kirhas is a crucial piece. Her abilities and position might be needed in future battles, but she’s not suited for this kind of messy information gathering right now.

Fernandez smiled softly and ruffled her hair. Kirhas growled softly for a moment, then lightly grabbed his collar.

“Your expression has softened lately. Did you know that?”

“My expression?”

“Yes, noticeably.”

When Fernandez tilted his head in confusion, Kirhas smirked and let go.

“Honestly, at first, I thought you were some kind of mechanical device. But now? You laugh, joke, and worry.”

“So, you’re saying I’ve become less reliable.”

Fernandez answered almost reflexively. Being compared to a mechanical device meant always producing the same level of output for the same input. As a mage, that was the highest compliment.

But Kirhas slowly shook her head.

“No. On the contrary, you’re more trustworthy now.”

Kirhas adjusted Fernandez’s armor and brushed off the dust on his shoulder. She hesitated for a moment, then glanced around. No one was nearby.

With a sudden motion, her arms wrapped around Fernandez’s neck. She buried her face in his broad chest, rubbing against it for a while before slowly pulling away.

Looking up at Fernandez, who had stiffened slightly, Kirhas whispered nervously.

“Did it bother you?”

“No.”

“Then smile for me.”

“Kirhas.”

Fernandez gently stroked her hair. His mind was a mess. Pleasure and happiness are easy to seize. Just accepting her affection would make those emotions his.

But is that right? No, it’s not. Irresponsible affection is no different from hostility. At least not today. He’s not in a position to take responsibility for her, for her heart. It’s not yet time for him to settle down.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and walked away.

“Thank you for the comfort.”

“……Yes, Your Excellency.”

Watching his retreating figure, Kirhas let out a short sigh. Still so far away. And always moving further. Like a shadow that slips away just when you think you’ve caught it.

* * *

Abel, who had been standing by the window looking at the door, bowed her head.

“Lindburm. Cheer up. What more did you expect from that blockhead?”

“Well. What can I say? It’s frustrating.”

Abel smiled sadly and leaned back on the sofa. Freya sat beside her and chattered.

“He’s unbearably rude when love comes knocking, and unbearably cold when trying to hold onto it.”

“Do you know why he’s like that?”

“I do and I don’t. There’s someone else in his heart.”

“……What?! What? Who is it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they haven’t been born yet, or maybe they’re already living somewhere.”

Freya’s expression twisted strangely at her words.

“Was he a prophet? He did seem like one. But falling in love with a woman from the future? Romantic, but kinda creepy.”

“He said there’s a complicated situation. That he’ll meet a woman in the distant future and even have children with her.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

Before she could finish, Abel’s gaze turned toward the door. A familiar presence was felt outside. Kirhas was clearly standing there, about to open the door but stopping.

Abel deliberately raised her voice as if to be heard.

“He said, ‘There’s no such thing as predetermined fate.’ So, can you give up?”

Let’s work on it together. Abel smiled softly as she spoke. From outside the door, the sound of hurried footsteps could be heard.