41 - The Victim of the Academy

A Life-Changing Event (3) Imperial Palace, Seraph Within the grand confines of the palace, the Third Princess, Robelia, was awaiting a banquet with the Emperor alongside the Sixth Prince, Valen. "Sister, do you think I can win Father's favor?" "As long as you hold your ground, Father will not find fault with you." This was Valen's first time dining with the Emperor. Earning the Emperor's time was no small feat. The reason for this special banquet was not trivial. "…I didn’t think Father knew it was my birthday." Today marked Valen's 10th birthday. A banquet where all royal family members were invited. The Emperor, who had never shown up on birthdays before, was hosting this banquet to personally celebrate Valen's, making it all the more significant. Unfortunately, other siblings had relayed their intention to skip the event beforehand, leaving only a modest gathering with Robelia. 'To think I could be with Father.' A great conquering monarch. Just sharing a meal in the same room as the Emperor was an immense honor for Valen. "He remembers everything. He hasn’t forgotten you. But whether that’s a good thing, I cannot tell." Robelia patted Valen’s nervous head. Today was a turning point in his life. Reaching 10 years of age held a special significance for the Emperor's children. Much would change with this banquet. "His Majesty has summoned you to the banquet hall." "We shall proceed at once." Robelia nodded to the attendant bearing the message and turned to Valen. "Valen, remember what I told you. Always stay vigilant. If you slip even once…" "Don't worry, Sister. I understand this isn’t just for me, but a test from Father." "…Yes, I believe in you." Robelia nodded and led Valen to the banquet hall. The young Valen had a tense expression, yet he did not hesitate as he confidently entered. Observing Valen’s composure, Robelia slowly turned her head. "Welcome." The Emperor, with a humane smile, watched the two from in front of the lavishly set table. His fiery red hair looked ready to burst into flames, and his piercing golden eyes seemed capable of devouring even a beast. Despite his age, which should span over a century, he radiated vitality and energy. The man who overwhelmed just by his presence — he was none other than... "Greetings, Your Majesty." The Emperor of the Empire. Abraham Vicious von Miltonia. He was a man who commanded others with his mere existence. It was as if an intangible pressure suffocated those around him, like being pinned deep in the ocean. Though there was no hostility or murderous intent, only curiosity, it suffocated Valen nonetheless. "Huff… huff…" Valen's body trembled. He wanted nothing more than to flee. But… "Gr-Greetings, Your Majesty." Valen did not forget Robelia’s advice. He overcame the oppressive sensation and met Abraham’s gaze. Valen was a royal. Thus, he carried himself with dignity. "Hmm." The Emperor seemed pleased with this, nodding slightly. With that, the crushing pressure on Valen slightly eased. Only then could Valen, catching his breath, move forward. "Robelia, it’s been quite some time. How goes your studies?" "Thanks to Your Majesty's grace, I continue to make steady progress." "Good, continue to strive." After a brief formal exchange with Robelia, Abraham turned to Valen, the banquet’s true guest of honor. "And Valen, happy birthday. You have now become a true member of the royal family." "Your Majesty’s grace is immeasurable." "No need to be so formal. Just stay moderately attentive and enjoy yourself." "Yes." "Now, let us all be seated. We’ll continue our conversation over the meal." With a soft chuckle, Abraham gestured for the standing Valen and Robelia to sit. Valen took the seat across from Abraham, with Robelia beside him. Thus began their intimate three-person banquet. * * * Dining with Abraham was surprisingly comfortable for Valen. It was just as Robelia said. Abraham seemed indifferent but was, in fact, very attentive to his children. "I heard you won first place in the recent horseback competition. It was your first race, wasn't it? Were you not overwhelmed?" "No, I simply enjoyed riding with the horse." "Indeed, a horse is a companion you must trust implicitly on the battlefield. It’s delightful that you've realized this at such a young age." "Thank you, Father." "Haha! Is that something to thank me for? Was it not your own achievement? You need not thank me for everything. Even if there was my support, the result was due to your own effort." "…Yes!" Abraham was more Emperor-like and human than Valen had imagined. Valen began to forget his initial fear and grew increasingly motivated. Abraham too seemed delighted by Valen’s burgeoning enthusiasm, drinking joyously. As the atmosphere warmed, Abraham’s tone shifted, adopting a more serious demeanor. "Valen, you are now 10 years old, making you aware that you must compete with your siblings, yes?” “Yes, I understand.” “Then, in competing with them, what kind of Emperor do you aspire to be?” “…I want to be an Emperor for all people.” Valen swallowed nervously. It might seem naive. Even Robelia, who supported him, had once smirked at such a notion. Would the Emperor rebuke him? Or criticize? Valen anxiously awaited his father’s response. “It will be a tough path. The Empire has grown so vast that even I find it challenging to manage. The people you speak of number beyond imagination, diverse and plentiful. Can you truly claim to embrace them all?” “I may not be able to say for certain. However, I intend to strive for it relentlessly.” “Hmm…” Naive. But Abraham found Valen’s answer not entirely displeasing. “Indeed, without dreams, one cannot advance. I look forward to the day you surpass your siblings and rise to this place.” “Yes, Your Majesty!” Abraham smiled gently. He truly didn't mind what ideals the next Emperor held. After all, wasn't he the conqueror of worlds himself? Such grand dreams should be aspired to. The grander the dream, the more effort one can exert towards it. Abraham contemplated the glass of wine he held before setting it aside. The proof was sufficient. "Valen, I have left a gift for your caretaker. Retrieve it after dining." "Yes…!" Valen realized at that moment that he had gained Abraham’s recognition. But then, out of nowhere— Whack! Valen's head abruptly burst open. A knife was embedded where his head had been. He probably never even realized he was dying. Sitting directly across Valen, Abraham looked on impassively as he addressed a servant standing beside him. "Bring me a new knife." "…Yes, Your Majesty." Accepting the new knife from the servant, Abraham calmly cut into his meat and spoke. "Do you think I was wrong?" The question was directed at Robelia, who stood frozen with an outstretched hand. She likely attempted to catch the knife Abraham had thrown. An unexpected assault. Robelia couldn't defend against it. The flames around her wrist restrained her intervention. Emperor Abraham had denied Robelia's interference. And yet… "…No, Your Majesty is correct." Valen could have protected himself. Abraham only launched an assault within Valen's capability to counter. Valen's death was due to his letting his guard down at the last moment. "For all your words, your eyes look as if they could kill me at any moment." Abraham glanced briefly at Robelia’s vacant expression and gave a slight smile. "You know as well as I do that this was my mercy. Valen would not have survived in this harsh royal family." "Yes, I am aware." "It was perhaps better for him to pass peacefully now." Valen died while still harboring dreams. To Abraham, that was perhaps for the best. Holding dreams beyond one's reach only leads to failure. In this royal family, one could neither survive without power nor without constant vigilance would they lose everything they held dear. Once acknowledged as a royal at ten, no one could protect you. Thus, he killed—to test if one had the ability to uphold those dreams. Unfortunately, Valen failed his examination. "You know this too, don't you, Robelia? You experienced first-hand what Valen was to face. You should not have instilled dreams in him. You should not have shown him kindness." It would have been wiser to implant ruthlessness. It would have been better to ruin the dreamer, that pure-hearted boy named Valen. If you wanted him to survive, you should have done so. "The First Prince pursued ideals and gave up his ambitions. The Second Prince chased ambitions and lost his ideals, becoming a monster." The First Prince renounced his claim to the throne and left the royal family. The Second Prince sought the throne at any cost. "What about you, Robelia? As the only princess contesting for the throne, to which side do you lean?" Robelia had chosen compromise. She pursued her ideals while clinging to her ambitions. Some would call her indecisive; others might label her contradictory. And Abraham, the Emperor, said this: "If you do not falter, you will be the next Emperor, Robelia." You are the most fitting to ascend the Emperor’s throne. "Of course..." The Emperor smirked and turned his gaze back upon Robelia. "There are still immature parts you must first address." Robelia was swinging her fist at Abraham. * * * No battle ensued. The chasm of power between them was so vast that a confrontation couldn't even take shape. Abraham smiled, looking at the bloodied Robelia. "It truly is a pity." Robelia had exercised temperance. Abraham had deliberately provoked her into attacking. Had she held back until the very last moment, Abraham might have deemed her successful. "You still resemble the First Prince more. You lack his skill by far." Of course, showing abilities surpassing Abraham himself would have been preferable. But neither was accomplished. "Know that I am showing you mercy." With those words, Abraham departed the banquet hall. * * * Collapsed in a bloody heap, Robelia clenched her fists silently. Her helplessness, unable to even lift a finger, filled her with fury. The disparity was overwhelming. Thud! With trembling limbs, Robelia forced herself up from the pool of her own blood. Surviving siblings might mock her. Yet she couldn’t help but sneer at herself before anyone else. "Foolish." More than anyone, she mocked her own foolishness. She had neither strength nor skill. Her survival depended on Abraham’s so-called mercy. She lived, relying on that dubious charity. Bang! Robelia slammed her fist into a pillar before exiting the banquet hall. Staggering as she left, she encountered a figure standing in the corridor. "Where is Prince Valen…?" It was Valen’s caretaker. She cradled a sword that appeared to be Abraham’s gift. Holding it dearly, as if it were precious, she stood there protectively. It truly was a fine item—it showed that Abraham genuinely intended to celebrate Valen’s birthday. If Valen had managed to fend off Abraham's surprise attack, he would now be joyfully accepting that sword. The mere possibility of such an outcome tightened the grip on Robelia's heart. She spoke briefly: "He is dead." "Oh…" The caretaker trembled. In her arms, the Emperor's gift felt as heavy as Valen’s corpse. Leaving the sobbing caretaker kneeling and crying aloud, Robelia staggered away. She needed to become Emperor. Robelia resolved this repeatedly in her heart. * * * Having locked Stan Robinhood away in some random underground cell, I finally made my way back to the cradle. Ah… I’ve been gallivanting outside quite a bit lately. Should I attend class now? Or, since I’m already late, should I just head straight to the workshop? Eh, missing a day or two of class doesn’t mean I’ll fail, right? I’ll just go to the workshop directly. “Hm?” It was then I spotted someone nearby. Is there another student skipping class like me? Well, maybe it isn't that unusual. Not everyone in this world is a model student. Feeling a strange sense of camaraderie, I moved closer for a better look. “…….” Familiar. She's probably the person I least want to run into at the cradle right now. Robelia Vicious von Miltonia. She was sitting on a bench, her body wrapped in bandages. “Hmph.” I naturally turned my body to head in the other direction, planning to take a longer route to the workshop. Sometimes it's nice to take a stroll, after all. “Johan Damus.” “Yep.” “Stop and turn around.” “Yep.” “You seem to have quite a bit of free time, given you haven’t attended classes. May I have a word with you?” “Ah, time is one thing I have in abundance. Of course, Your Highness.” Damn it, got caught at the wrong moment.