Chapter 86

Chapter 86
## Chapter 86

Unless a person is a literal eternal deity, any inheritance they leave behind requires a physical vault. Furthermore, if that treasure is immense, the structure housing it must be of a matching scale. When such a place is built in total confidence to evade discovery, the list of potential sites narrows significantly.

‘Realistically, the palace is the only logical hiding spot. The Crown probably suspected this, which is why they clung to Asagrim for so long.’

Since they couldn’t simply execute a royal bloodline that had capitulated without a fight, the Empire likely stripped them of Asagrim, buried them under meaningless titles, and exiled them. The Grimaldis surely anticipated this treatment, nursing dreams of a distant resurgence. However, as noted in the diary of his grandfather, the Empire’s thousand-year stability eventually outlasted them. The Grimaldi spark had gone out first.

‘No wonder they surrendered the keys to me without much fuss.’

Lucian had never stepped foot in the North before, nor had he ever looked upon his grandfather’s face. More importantly, the Emperor’s missive suggested that the ancestral gifts were restricted strictly to the primary line of succession. They likely gambled that Lucian, coming from a secondary branch, would find the vault barred even if he located it. In truth, the Northern Royalty’s heritage remained accessible to branch kin up to the third generation.

‘I’ve hit the motherlode.’

Lucian whispered, rubbing his jaw to keep a triumphant grin from spreading across his face. If he lost his composure now, he feared he might start laughing out loud. What he had envisioned as a simple hunt for scraps had yielded a genuine fortune—and a roadmap to the lost legacy of the old kings.

“My Lord, I share your joy, but we cannot afford to linger,” Raymond said, his hand firmly gripping Lucian’s shoulder to snap him out of his reverie. “These documents must be incinerated immediately. We can manage the guards, but if Sir Glen catches wind of this…”

The warning pulled Lucian back to reality. This was Asagrim, a fortress the Empire had occupied for a millennium just to suppress any ghost of the past. What would occur if they realized Lucian held the literal keys to the kingdom?

‘In a best-case scenario, they’d simply seize Asagrim back. At worst, they’d turn me into a human skeleton key, draining the legacy for themselves.’

Even if the vault was blood-locked, the artifacts within could likely be requisitioned or “borrowed.” After all, the Emperor’s elite Red Wing Knights were all outfitted with high-level magical gear. If he played his hand poorly, he’d become a landlord in name only, forced to hand over his inheritance to the state indefinitely.

“You’re right. Let’s burn it all.”

“But these are your family’s records…”

“It doesn’t matter. The vital information is already mine. With the key in my possession, I doubt my predecessors would mind me burning the map.”

To be honest, he felt no sentimental attachment to these journals. They were largely chronicles of obsession—a cycle of misery and longing for a dead era, with the sole exception of his grandfather’s notes.

‘If they had actually detailed the mechanics of the throne or its secrets, I might have salvaged a few pages. Since they didn’t, there’s no point in keeping them around.’

*Fwoosh!*

Lucian piled the journals together and introduced them to a torch. The aged, brittle paper ignited instantly, dissolving into embers and smoke. As he watched a thousand years of desperation turn to soot, Lucian’s gaze sharpened. Now that he had secured his grandfather’s gift, the next phase of his plan could begin.

—

“You want to host a summit for the Northern nobility here in Asagrim?”

“Indeed.”

Glen, who had been assessing the local mood in the nearby hamlets, looked at Lucian with sheer confusion. They had barely unpacked their bags, and yet the new Margrave was already planning a gala?

“Your Highness, forgive the bluntness, but where is the gold for such an event coming from…?”

“I’m counting on His Majesty the Emperor to sponsor it.”

“….”

Glen stared at Lucian as if the young man had grown a second head. He wanted to throw a party and expect the Emperor—who wasn’t even invited as a host—to pick up the tab? Undeterred, Lucian pressed on.

“Additionally, I’d like him to dispatch a contingent of veteran troops and a knightly order. Not a permanent gift, mind you—just a loan for a few months. As a Margrave, I need a proper military shadow to maintain my standing. I need breathing room to secure my position after the formal ceremony.”

“Your Highness, this is reaching. His Majesty has been exceptionally generous as it is…”

“At this summit, I plan to publicly throw my weight behind the First Prince.”

“…!”

The bold statement caused Glen to stiffen. It was an open secret that the Emperor’s generosity was a down payment for Lucian’s political loyalty to the First Prince. However, given Lucian’s ongoing friction with House Crawford, Glen had assumed the boy would avoid the political limelight until his power base was firm. Instead, Lucian was jumping into the deep end immediately.

“Are you fully aware of the ripples this will cause?”

“Perfectly.”

Lucian flashed a smile at the stunned knight. “I am stepping into the succession debate, a topic most treat as a landmine. I’ll be under the Imperial microscope, and this could even sabotage my standing within House Valdek. I’m essentially painting a target on my back for every shadow in the palace.”

“And you’re doing this now? Before you’ve even secured your own borders?”

“Isn’t this the exact outcome the Crown desires? The scion of Grimaldi and Master of Asagrim declaring for the First Prince. The North has stayed out of the succession scramble; my word will likely tilt the entire region’s perspective.”

“That is… hard to argue,” Glen admitted.

For Lucian’s sake, Glen had told him he could wait to declare, but the strategic value of an early endorsement was undeniable. A public pledge was a point of no return; it signaled the formation of a legitimate power bloc. Having the voice of the North speak up now would pull those on the fence into the fold.

‘It’s a brilliant move on paper. I should report this to the capital immediately… but why does this feel like a trap?’

Lucian had proven his bravery by saving the First Prince and his loyalty to the throne seemed solid. Glen liked the lad and respected his precocious talent. Yet, he knew Lucian wasn’t a blind devotee; he was a shark. This move had to serve Lucian’s interests.

‘I just can’t see the angle. On the surface, Lucian takes all the risk while the Crown reaps all the reward. Why?’

As Glen hesitated, Lucian offered a reassuring grin. “Sir Glen, don’t overthink it. Just send the report. The Emperor makes the final call anyway. If he says no, I’ll drop the subject.”

“Very well. I will send word. Give me a day.”

—

Back in his private quarters, Glen placed the Red Stone on a pedestal and activated a series of privacy wards. Once the room was sealed, he tapped the stone. After a brief pulse, a shimmering silhouette appeared in the air.

—Sir Glen? Speak.

At the sound of the royal voice, Glen dropped to one knee. “I offer my greetings to Your Majesty—”

—Save it. I’m in the middle of a session. Skip the fluff and tell me if the North is burning.

“No, Sire. Lord Lucian has made a proposal for your consideration.”

—A proposal? I handed him the Grimaldi Dukedom, the Margrave title, and Asagrim. Is he already asking for more?

The Emperor’s voice carried a hint of rising irritation. He hadn’t expected Lucian to be a fawning servant, but he had expected a certain level of gratitude for the “gifts” he had forced upon him. Glen quickly intervened before the mood soured further.

“It’s not quite like that, Sire. Lord Lucian is requesting assistance in consolidating the Northern territories.”

—Explain.

Glen summarized Lucian’s plan: the banquet for the Northern lords, the request for a temporary military escort to project power, and the public endorsement of the First Prince.

“…I didn’t feel comfortable making the call, so I sought Your Majesty’s perspective.”

—Hahahaha!

Glen blinked as booming laughter echoed from the stone. The Emperor’s annoyance had evaporated, replaced by genuine amusement.

—Wonderful! Tell him he has his support. Ask him for a head count on the troops. If he wants them, I’ll even send a squad from the Imperial Guard.

“Majesty? You’re certain?”

—Why wouldn’t I be? He’s handed me the very deal I was too hesitant to suggest myself.

“Pardon?”

The Emperor’s tone was now light and jovial. —I gave him Asagrim, but the vultures like House Crawford won’t just sit back. He needs a fist to keep them in line, and you don’t grow a private army overnight. He has to borrow strength from somewhere.

Since House Valdek was effectively treating Lucian as an outcast, they weren’t an option. No one lends a private army to a secondary branch member for free.

—That leaves me or his local allies. But the more he leans on his neighbors, the more he owes them. He already owes me quite a bit.

The Emperor had figured Lucian would try to avoid deepening his debt to the throne. He had already been gifted lands and titles; taking an army too would make the bill almost impossible to pay. Yet, Lucian had asked for the troops and offered a political bombshell in return.

—I was worried he might see the land as a burden he didn’t want. But if he’s asking for a sword to defend it, he’s locked in. He won’t be able to back out of his obligations later.

“I see…”

—He’s settled one of my biggest concerns. We’re still dealing with the Krepelt unrest, but the crown’s reach is long. We have more than enough men to spare for this. Work out the logistics and report back.

The Emperor’s voice was warm as the connection cut. Glen stood up, the light from the Red Stone fading. Despite the Emperor’s logical breakdown, the knot in Glen’s stomach remained.

If the Emperor was satisfied, it should be fine. But Glen couldn’t shake a nagging thought.

‘Your Majesty, Lucian is smart enough to know everything you just said. He isn’t asking for help because he’s desperate; he’s asking for help so he can purge his rivals and grow his own power faster.’

But he knew how the Emperor would respond: that developing a wasteland takes decades, and Lucian would be forced to pay his debts long before he became a threat.

‘But if he’s taking these troops because he knows he can grow that fast… If he becomes so powerful that the Crown has to ask for favors instead of giving orders…’

Glen shook his head. He was spiraling into shadows. Without proof, his gut feeling was just paranoia, and he couldn’t bring a “bad feeling” to the Emperor.

‘It must be my imagination. Unless he found some ancient secret buried in the snow, there’s no way to build a power base that quickly.’

Clearing his gear, Glen went to find Lucian. The Emperor had said yes; now it was time to move the pieces.