Chapter 87

Chapter 87
## Chapter 87

“Haha, it is truly amusing how effortlessly everything is falling into place.”

Inside the privacy of his command tent, Karl, the Sovereign of the Empire, allowed a soft whistle of laughter to escape his lips.

He idly toyed with the crimson communication stone in his hand, the very device he had used to exchange words with Glen only moments prior.

“I can finally relax my shoulders. He maintained such a sharp guard that I genuinely puzzled over how I might ever bring him under my thumb.”

The Emperor had developed a genuine fascination with Lucian.

The young man displayed a spiritual maturity and a keenness of mind that far outstripped his years, possessing talents that practically guaranteed his status as a future legend.

With the right guidance, he was destined to be a foundation stone of the realm, assisting the Heir Apparent in stabilizing these chaotic times.

The only shadow of doubt the Emperor harbored was the scale of the boy’s ambition, which seemed to grow in tandem with his skill.

‘His fealty is assured as long as the Empire stands firm. However, he is not the sort of martyr who would incinerate himself to salvage a dying dynasty.’

He wasn’t a man driven by the kind of greed that leads to insurrection, yet he was clearly someone who would seize every opportunity to ascend once the walls around him were lowered.

In the Sovereign’s estimation, that was the essence of Lucian.

That specific trait was why he couldn’t permit Lucian to remain an unattached observer.

With a gift of that magnitude, there was no limit to how high he might soar once his wings were fully clipped of their restraints.

The most nagging complication, however, was his lineage.

‘Valdek… one of the rare bloodlines, beyond the Golden Throne itself, that possesses a legitimate claim to the imperial crown.’

He didn’t harbor a single suspicion that a devoted peer like Grand Duke Sigmund would ever plot for the throne.

But what would transpire if a prodigy like Lucian asserted his ancestral right during a period when the Empire was leaderless?

While the nobility might voice their grievances, in an era of pure anarchy, the shift of the Imperial House to a different branch might occur with startling lack of friction.

It was a dark future that would likely never manifest, yet the mere thought of it made his blood run cold.

“Fortunately, that is a concern I can now set aside.”

By bestowing upon him the sovereignty of the North, the Emperor had effectively severed Lucian’s ties to the House of Valdek.

While he was preoccupied with laying the stones of his own foundation in those frozen lands, he would be unable to maintain his influence within Valdek, naturally drifting away from the line of succession.

The title of Grand Duke would eventually fall to another of Sigmund’s heirs—a resolution that suited the Emperor’s designs perfectly.

“Cough!”

The Emperor, who had been resting against his seat in high spirits, suddenly clutched his mouth as a violent tremor of coughing took hold of him.

It was only after a painful interval of muffled gasping that the fit finally passed.

When he pulled his hand away, his skin was stained with a bright, wet scarlet.

“This wretched malady refuses to grant me even a second of peace to savor my victories.”

A metallic bitterness filled his mouth; he viewed it as a grim spiritual warning not to let his guard down through overconfidence.

Drawing a long, weary breath, the Emperor stood and began to mentally rearrange his strategies.

‘The threat of a coalition between the North and Valdek has evaporated. I have transformed the North, once cold toward the Throne, into a devoted partisan, and I have burdened the future Conqueror of the North with a crushing debt. With Bernhardt’s movements restricted, only Sigmund remains on the board.’

The name Sigmund brought a sharp ache to the Emperor’s temples.

He was a confidant he relied upon above all others, but that very intimacy meant there were certain stains upon his honor he wished to conceal from Sigmund more than anyone else.

Yet, if he persisted in hiding the rot within the Imperial Family, Sigmund would never lend his full weight to the First Prince.

“Is the High Butler present?”

“At your service, Your Majesty.”

“Bring Grand Duke Sigmund to me. We have critical matters to discuss immediately.”

Having hardened his heart, the Emperor gave the command to his senior official waiting just beyond the canvas.

He was certain the uprising in Krepelt would be crushed, but a campaign was still a campaign.

As a precaution, he needed to disclose the truth before the first strike was landed.

*Rustle.*

“Hmm?”

After dismissing the Butler, the Emperor snapped his head up at a sound resembling the shifting of parchment.

He suspected an intruder had slipped into his quarters, but the tent remained empty.

Attributing it to frayed nerves, he gave a dry chuckle and lay down to rest.

He remained blissfully unaware that one of the two pairs of hidden eyes tracking him from the darkness of his own shadow had vanished.

—

Once the Sovereign’s decree was issued, the gears of bureaucracy turned with incredible speed.

Lucian laid out his requirements to Glen, who had arrived for the meeting, with zero hesitation.

“I require a minimum of one thousand veteran soldiers and the accompaniment of the Imperial Knight Order. A duration of roughly two years would be most suitable.”

“That is your baseline? I dread to ask what your maximum request entails.”

“Ideally, I would prefer the backing of five thousand veterans and two distinct knightly orders.”

“The payroll and logistics for such a force would be…”

“Naturally, the Crown must provide the funding. Perhaps down the line, once revenue is generated, we can revisit the matter, but currently, my coffers are bare.”

Glen sat in stunned silence at Lucian’s sheer gall.

He couldn’t fathom how the young lord could remain so composed while asking for a small army.

“Your Grace, if I may step out of my role for a moment—not as an Imperial Inspector, but as a brother-in-arms—might I offer a word of caution?”

“Guidance from a comrade is always welcome. Please, speak freely.”

With a nod from Lucian, Glen bowed his head and expressed his worries.

“I can certainly pass these demands to His Majesty. But are you prepared for the consequences of this?”

“What are you implying?”

“Supporting a military force requires a staggering fortune. For high-tier soldiers and elite knights, those costs skyrocket. I am no accountant, but for the numbers you are suggesting, the expense would look something like this.”

Glen grabbed a stray parchment from the desk and jotted down a rough estimate in the margin.

Even though it was a conservative calculation that ignored various overheads, the total was a king’s ransom.

“The Empire’s treasury is indeed vast, and we can satisfy your requests. However, that money doesn’t simply vanish into thin air. What I am trying to explain is…”

“You are questioning if I can ever balance the books? Since these troops are on loan, every copper becomes a debt I owe to the Throne.”

“My apologies if my bluntness has caused offense.”

Despite the apology, Glen didn’t look away.

He was determined to unmask the logic behind the young man’s unwavering poise.

‘The Emperor was pleased to have leverage over him, but that leverage is only useful if Lord Lucian has the means to actually pay. For the sake of both the Crown and the Lord, I have to stop him from drowning in debt.’

This wasn’t a simple loan between merchants; it was a contract between the Sovereign and a noble destined to be a Great Lord.

If the debt ballooned until it was mathematically impossible to resolve, the repercussions could be catastrophic.

Out of respect for Lucian’s reputation, Glen felt obligated to push for a more modest limit.

“Your worry is justified. However, I haven’t made these choices blindly.”

Lucian smirked, as if waving away Glen’s anxieties.

“I don’t plan on taking the Emperor’s charity and then playing the fool, nor am I making demands without understanding the weight of the gold involved. I have a strategy to clear the balance, so I am only borrowing what I can manage.”

“Is… is that the truth?”

“Truly. Though, I suppose it’s natural for a veteran like you to doubt the words of a novice like me, Sir Glen.”

“No, that wasn’t my intent…!”

“I’m not slighted. I’m merely disappointed that I haven’t yet earned your full confidence. I know your words come from a place of genuine concern, Sir Glen.”

Glen found himself unable to respond to Lucian’s melancholic smile.

The sincerity in his voice made Glen wonder if there really was a deeper master plan at work.

‘After all, what kind of man is Lord Lucian? Is he not the same person who rescued the First Prince even after being publicly humiliated and forced to disobey orders?’

A man of such integrity wouldn’t recklessly bury himself in debt without an exit strategy.

Glen felt a pang of guilt for having questioned him.

“I spoke out of turn, ignorant of Your Grace’s broader vision. Please forgive my presumption.”

“It is forgotten. Please, look up.”

Lucian gave a kind smile to soothe the inspector.

He hadn’t been lying.

Since the Emperor had provided for him, he intended to settle the account eventually—assuming the Empire actually survived.

‘However, no matter what the Sovereign has lent me, if he isn’t in a position to demand it back, the concept of debt becomes irrelevant.’

A creditor only holds power when the debt can be used as a bludgeon.

If the world falls apart and the creditor becomes the one begging for the debtor’s protection, the roles are effectively reversed.

And Lucian was certain he could bring the Emperor to a point where he would be asking for favors, debt or no debt.

‘The era of blood is nearing. Soon, the Throne will be desperate for any lord with true strength and loyalty. In that landscape, would they dare to pressure a Great Noble who not only rules the North but also commands the heritage of a forgotten crown?’

He didn’t even require power that rivaled the Throne itself.

If his strength merely matched that of the Red Wing Knights, the Imperial Family would be forced to treat him as an equal peer.

—

The final reinforcement package authorized by the Emperor consisted of two thousand elite infantry and the Blue Rose Knight Order.

It was a calculated, middle-ground force—not so small as to be useless, but not large enough to conquer the surrounding regions in a single sweep.

Lucian could easily read the Emperor’s psychology behind these specific numbers.

‘He is signaling that if I require further aid, I must come back and plead for it.’

If he returned for more after receiving such a force, it would prove his desperation.

The Emperor wanted to gauge Lucian’s mental state and tighten the collar around his neck.

However, Lucian saw no reason to play along.

‘More steel is always better, but this isn’t so little that I’m forced to beg. It’s a sufficient shield to buy me the time I need to raise my own banners.’

He also didn’t want to give the Sovereign any false leverage.

If the Emperor felt his dominance was absolute, he might start making impossible demands before Lucian was ready to refuse them.

The initial request for five thousand had been a negotiation tactic; he needed to show that the current amount was more than enough.

“He indicated the troops would be moved simultaneously via spatial artifacts. However, Your Grace must first establish a base of operations for them…”

“So, I should send word once I reach Asagrim. I understand.”

Lucian accepted the logical terms and began the trek toward Asagrim with his companions.

He arranged for temporary caretakers to look after the Grimaldi estate.

Since the property had served its political purpose, it was a small act of respect for his grandfather’s lineage.

‘The house has lost its symbolic weight because of Asagrim, but leaving it to rot would invite mockery from the local gentry.’

Lucian looked back at the manor as it receded into the distance and questioned Glen.

“By the way, what is the current state of Asagrim? I heard that despite being a territory without a master, it still sees a fair share of travelers.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of visiting Asagrim myself, so I’m afraid I can’t offer much detail…”

“I know a bit about it. I passed through there once.”

As Glen hesitated, Raymond stepped forward to fill the gap.

Having roamed the North in his younger days, it seemed he had explored Asagrim as well.

“Actually, while there are no permanent residents, the seasonal crowds are massive. Some explorers even pitch tents on the outskirts and stay for months at a time.”

“In this frost? For what reason?”

“Because Asagrim is viewed as the spiritual heart of the North. Since the city surrendered peacefully during the Unification War, the architecture is flawlessly maintained, and the ancient ruins are untouched.”

“That is quite a lot of dedication for a place that’s just a historic site.”

“Honestly, I can’t blame them. The White Palace of Asagrim is every bit as spectacular as the Imperial Palace; you could stare at it for a lifetime. It might not match it in sheer size, but in terms of aesthetic beauty, it actually exceeds it…”

“Ahem! *Cough, cough!*”

Glen cut Raymond off with a series of loud, intentional coughs.

To suggest that a provincial noble’s home was more beautiful than the Emperor’s seat could be viewed as a grave insult to the Crown, even if it were a common opinion.

Finding themselves at a dead end, Lucian’s group dropped the topic and traveled in quiet contemplation.

A few days later, as they drew closer to their goal, the silhouette of Asagrim began to shimmer on the horizon.

‘It is a mirror image of Tivron, the heart of the Empire.’

Lucian’s eyes widened as he took in the massive fortifications of Asagrim, which bore a striking resemblance to the legendary White Walls of the capital.