A boy of about ten pointed toward the imperial carriage slowly making its way down the cobbled street.

"Look, Mom! Are those horses? They're so pretty!"

"Put your hand down, Julien," his mother replied quickly, pushing it down, visibly nervous.

Before them rolled the majestic imperial carriage. Pulled by four magnificent white horses with silky manes, it gleamed with refined gold trimmings, intricate engravings of the Thirteenth Empire's emblem, and deep purple curtains embroidered with gold. A masterpiece on wheels, the embodiment of power and prestige.

Inside sat the only person allowed to ride in it: Emperor Lucian Voldreck of the Thirteenth Empire.

Strangely, no procession accompanied him—only a single guard. But this was no ordinary escort. Harry, Captain of the Imperial Guard, rode silently ahead on a black warhorse. His fame rivaled even that of Instructor Lyne. He, too, was a sixth-rank swordsman, renowned as one of the continent's finest.

"Whispers Isn't that the imperial carriage? What's it doing here?"

"Whispers Maybe that bastard emperor is out looking for a new toy..."

"Whispers Do they really think demoting nobles will win the people's favor?"

"Whispers On the contrary... How does he expect to rule without them?"

As the carriage advanced, whispers multiplied. The crowd, torn between reverence and resentment, slowly parted to make way for the Emperor, their hushed criticisms barely veiled.

At the front, Harry led the way—rigid as a blade, silent and unshakable.

Lucian, comfortably seated inside, watched the crowd through the parted curtains. His gaze was calm, though his thoughts raced.

"Just as I expected... The hostility's at its peak."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"Ah, don't rush things, my little slot machines... You'll come to hate me even more very soon."

At exactly three o'clock, the carriage came to a halt.

Lucian had arrived in the Empire's southern region, on lands governed by House Red, ruled by its patriarch, Grand Duke Angelos Red.

The city of Orvenia stretched before him. Though the Duke held noble status, his role here was more akin to that of a mayor.

"Those watching from the rooftops... Must be the Duke's sentinels. I first thought it was an ambush, but Harry didn't react. So, not enemies."

They continued through the sunlit streets of the city. Unlike the tension-filled capital, here the passersby smiled. A sense of peace and well-being lingered in the air.

"This is... nothing like the capital."

A grand red-and-white manor came into view on the horizon—imposing yet elegant. Its towering marble columns and warm-toned stained glass windows shimmered under the glow of the setting sun.

Then, a deep voice rang out:

"Welcome to the South, Your Majesty."

A tall, commanding man offered a slight bow. A scar cut across his face—a relic of past battles—while his fiery red hair unmistakably marked him as a member of House Red.

"W-welcome, Your Majesty."

This second, more hesitant greeting came from a young woman of refined bearing. Though she held herself with noble grace, a flicker of unease crossed her features. Her vibrant, untamed red hair caught the sunlight, blazing like fire.

There was no doubt—it was Livia Red, the only daughter of Grand Duke Angelos Red.

Hmm? Why does she seem so uncomfortable? Lucian wondered, intrigued.

Angelos spoke again, his voice formal yet respectful.

"We were not informed of your visit, Your Majesty. As such, we regretfully were unable to prepare a proper welcome for you."

Dressed in his imperial attire, Lucian replied in a composed tone:

"I understand. It was an important decision, but one made at the last moment. The fault lies with me for this sudden arrival."

Livia's eyes widened slightly, surprised. She had heard countless stories about the Emperor, yet his calm and courteous demeanor stood in stark contrast to the cold, calculating image painted by public rumor.

A faint smile touched her lips as her father gave a subtle nod.

"Thank you for your graciousness, Your Majesty. Please, come inside."

---

I must admit I'm a bit surprised... Angelos thought, closing the grand doors behind them. If he came all this way in person, it must be related to the tensions with the nobility...

They made their way to the manor's grand reception hall. However, unlike standard protocol, Lucian had specifically requested a private audience.

Traditionally, only the Grand Duke would attend such a meeting. But Angelos had insisted that his daughter Livia be present as well.

After all, she was expected to become the future matriarch of House Red. Participating in political discussions was essential to her training.

A similar approach had been adopted by the fallen Clerc family, where Adeline, the patriarch's daughter, often sat in on high-level meetings.

Lucian could have declined the additional presence—but he didn't. In fact, he welcomed it.

"I imagine you've already guessed the reason for my visit," Lucian said, wearing his professional, almost mechanical smile that concealed any emotion.

Look at this kid... Always that same smile. I'm sure of it now, Angelos thought, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course. The Empire is going through... a particularly turbulent time," Angelos replied.

"And sooner or later, the storm must be calmed," Lucian answered calmly.

Angelos was no ordinary man. He alone controlled more than half of the Empire's nobility. Excluding the imperial family members, he was the only one who had maintained his title without any trouble.

I imagine that in the panic, many turned to him. That's why I'm starting with this key pawn.

Lucian continued:

"You know as well as I do: the old nobles are competent... but plagued by corruption. That's why I've chosen to shift policies."

Angelos responded with a soft, almost mocking smile:

"I understand the logic... but your methods are still rather extreme, wouldn't you say?"

Lucian remained impassive.

"I made this decision fully aware. It's the only way to achieve the result I'm after."

Livia, who had been silent until then, observed the scene. Her gaze flickered from her father to the Emperor.

Lucian too... he has this strange aura. Calm. Cold. Calculated.

She had learned enough from her father to recognize this type of personality.

He acts like a merchant... but of a much more dangerous kind.

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she turned her gaze away.

"Would it be too indiscreet to ask what result you're aiming for?" Angelos asked, still smiling.

No matter how I phrase it... This decision was made in haste. An empire without ministers is unsustainable, he thought.

But Lucian's response surprised him.

"Even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand."

Livia's eyes widened. What? Did he really just say that... to my father?

She stared at Lucian in shock.

Her father, the greatest merchant strategist in the Empire, had just been dismissed... by a teenager.

Yet, Angelos didn't take offense. His smile remained unchanged.

"It seems you're underestimating me, Your Majesty."

Lucian responded with the same confidence:

"This isn't about intelligence or talent. It's about knowledge."

"Ah..." Angelos suppressed a laugh, a mix of amusement and annoyance.

He really thinks he knows more than I do? This little brat is either getting smarter... or completely idiotic.

Livia stared at him, stunned. Even if she was beginning to see Lucian in a different light, she couldn't tolerate anyone speaking to her father like that.

Especially not a boy his age.

"I imagine you already know what I want. If I came in person, it's to offer you an investment."

Angelos raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"An investment? I don't see how that concerns me. Shouldn't you be the one investing?"

Of course, Angelos had already figured out what Lucian was after. It wasn't hard to guess.

He wanted the duke to become the guarantor of the former nobles.

Even without their titles, those nobles still had their wealth, their influence... and most importantly, their skills.

But Lucian had no intention of letting them remain untouched. He wanted to force them to start over — to compete on equal footing with commoners in the race for nobility.

In other words: to make them earn their rank back through merit.

It was a risky gamble. A group that powerful could very well unite to bring down the Empire.

Lucian summarized it simply:

"A disloyal ally is worse than an enemy."

His plan was to pit them against each other, while keeping control. Like a president manipulating his ministers to keep the people in check.

"That's why I want you and your family to swear complete loyalty to me. Under a druidic pact."

"What kind of bullshit is that?!"

The voice rang out suddenly. But it wasn't Angelos who had spoken — it was Livia.

Her father looked at her calmly, but Lucian didn't even shift his gaze away from Angelos.

"Even if you're the Emperor…"

Her outburst wasn't unjustified. People often forgot that Angelos wasn't just another subject.

The dukes were a power that rivaled the Emperor himself. They had lands, armies, wealth, and networks.

The throne only stood because they allowed it.

Angelos didn't serve — he tolerated.

No… he was forced to tolerate it. Because of Selene Voldreck.

And Lucian knew that. But he couldn't stay in Selene's shadow forever.

"It seems I'm speaking to the head of the family. And if there's one thing I despise, it's when someone speaks without being invited."

The tone dropped — sharp, cold, final.

Angelos frowned ever so slightly, a faint crease forming on his brow. Livia's lips quivered, and she opened her mouth to retort, but a simple gesture from her father was enough to silence her. Frustrated, she bit her lip.

Angelos, as always, kept his eternal smile.

"So… you want me to become the Emperor's lapdog?"

Lucian gave a slight shrug.

"That's one way to put it."

"And this... investment, what does it really involve?"

"If you can contain those rats, even temporarily, you'll come out on top."

"Honestly... I don't really see what I have to gain from this."

Lucian cut in, his tone calm again, but razor-sharp:

"First: you'll be the one selling a commodity every empire would kill to own."

---

At the Imperial Palace.

"Ahhhh... Even in death, your faces are prettier than when you were alive."

The words echoed darkly through the dim corridors of the Imperial prison.

A man walked casually, a human head in each hand.

The two guards of the Empire's special prison — slaughtered.

The man? Darius.

He moved slowly, a dark aura floating around him like a cursed mist.

"Tch... Should've asked them what that Ria looked like before I killed them."

He quickened his pace. He had to move fast, before the butler returned.

"Chuuu... You were looking for me, weren't you?"

Darius froze, eyes wide.

A sweet, sing-song voice.

A figure seated casually, nibbling on cookies.

Her hair was an unnatural shade of sky blue. Her eyes sparkled with

innocence. And yet...

Darius instinctively stepped back, his body seized by fear he couldn't explain.

"Y-you... Who are you?"

The girl tilted her head with a cheerful smile.

"Well, you already said my name, didn't you? I'm Ria."

What...?!

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