Chapter 31: His Sacred Majesty the Emperor

“I’m going crazy.”

Only late at night did Cain finally finish his daily schedule and return to his bedroom.

Due to the relentless, grueling workload that had swept over him without a moment to breathe since the coronation, he was gradually losing his vitality.

Even before the possession, as the lead developer, he had treated overtime like meals, but the volume of work he was handling now was downright murderous.

However.

The Felberg Empire was on the verge of civil war.

In this chaos, there were far too many things an emperor had to do, so he couldn’t afford to show any sign of wanting to throw it all away and rest.

“If only my body could at least help.”

Unfortunately, Cain Felberg had lived as a wastrel right up until the moment of possession.

His body was in such a mess—befitting an extra character—that the expression “no answer” suited it perfectly.

Though it had improved somewhat since ascending the throne by consuming all sorts of renowned elixirs good for the body, that alone barely allowed him to endure the forced march of overwhelming duties.

“But this is reaching its limit soon.”

This cursed body that had been ruined so thoroughly.

It needed proper, disciplined training.

Even if it wasn’t solely because of stamina issues, Cain believed at least minimal training was necessary to protect his own body.

Thus, the next day.

As morning dawned, Cain asked Viscount Heinrich Denver, who commanded the Imperial Guard Knights, to teach him swordsmanship.

He thought learning swordsmanship at this point would be considerably helpful.

Training the body that had been ruined by long years of wastrel life was obvious, and he could also expect synergy effects with the various ‘sacred traces’ he would acquire later.

Of course, for self-defense, there was the option of asking Marquis Damien Pavel to teach him magic.

But with his current lack of stamina, sitting at a desk opening books again… this pathetic body was already nearing its limit.

And so, in the emperor-exclusive training ground prepared within the imperial palace.

“Your Majesty. As I said before, my lessons will be very tough.”

“I’m fully prepared.”

“You seem quite serious.”

“Unlike the wastrel days spent drowning in alcohol barrels every day at Canossa Fortress, the empire is in turbulent times now. I no longer intend to live as a wastrel.”

The lessons between Viscount Denver, who had become the swordsmanship instructor, and Emperor Cain finally began.

Cain had been exhausted from the emperor’s overwhelming duties until now.

Yet, seeing him burn with will and passion, actively trying to completely erase the traces of his past as a wastrel, a clear smile spread across Viscount Denver’s lips.

With a satisfied expression, he nodded slightly and opened his mouth.

“We’ll start with physical training. As Your Majesty already knows, stamina is a very important factor. It’s crucial not only when honing swordsmanship but also in actual combat. And it will greatly help in correcting the mana flow inside your body that was damaged by excessive drinking.”

Right after finishing his explanation, Viscount Denver brought over a sturdy, thick-looking iron breastplate and several quite heavy sandbags from the corner of the training ground.

He could guess what kind of physical training it would be.

Probably making him wear the iron breastplate and attach sandbags to his arms and legs while practicing swordsmanship.

It was to train the qualities needed before seriously honing swordsmanship—stamina, endurance, and willpower.

“Wear these.”

As expected.

Viscount Denver recommended Cain wear the sandbags and iron breastplate.

Cain nodded and put on the iron breastplate and four sandbags.

One sandbag on each arm, and one on each of the two legs.

The breastplate alone was by no means light, and with sandbags on his arms and legs, every movement made his muscles scream.

“This is a training sword.”

Viscount Denver said calmly while handing over the training sword.

Cain took the training sword and silently began swinging it in time with Viscount Denver’s commands.

Because of the sandbags and iron breastplate, each swing of the training sword was painfully tearing at his muscles.

Though he felt like giving up right away, he endured with desperate resolve.

After all, it was just as hard sitting and doing paperwork.

He judged it better to suffer a bit now.

Sweating profusely, he swung the sword dozens of times.

He already felt like most of his stamina was depleted.

Cain’s body, which had lived as a wastrel his whole life, was unfit to withstand Viscount Denver’s intense training.

But the more it was so, the more Cain could only bring out his stubbornness.

Even though he had awakened the ‘sacred traces,’ if the user’s own capabilities were weak, he couldn’t properly exert its power.

For example, even if he used the power of sacred traces that enhanced physical abilities, if his own swordsmanship was immature, it was the same as it being no help whether he had sacred traces or not.

Just looking at the founding festival and coronation, enemies who had projected powerful assassin forces all the way to the imperial castle had backers.

Bluntly, if those guys came again, how would he block them next time?

Due to many unpublished DLCs being applied so haphazardly, their identities weren’t certain, and what unknown forces remained was also ungrasped.

In this dark fantasy world, he had to do everything possible to survive.

But…

Just how trashy is this stamina?

Knowing it in his head didn’t particularly reduce the pain.

Cain sighed inwardly and shook his head slightly.

Regrettably, the pre-possession Cain’s long wastrel life seemed worse than imagined.

“Already tired? Shall we stop now?”

Seeing Cain panting with rough breaths, Heinrich Denver cautiously asked.

It sounded somewhat like playful provocation, so despite being considerably exhausted, Cain couldn’t say to stop.

“No? I’m fine.”

“Good. Then let’s move to the next stage.”

“Next stage?”

“Yes, from now on, I’ll demonstrate swordsmanship movements.”

After Cain was drained from basic training.

Once the repetition of simple slashing motions ended, Viscount Denver demonstrated proper swordsmanship with disciplined movements.

“Did you remember it?”

“It’s not that difficult.”

Simple movements.

There was no way he couldn’t remember this much.

Some might find it complicated, but strangely, it remained vivid in Cain’s memory, so he answered confidently.

Viscount Denver nodded, satisfied.

“Would you like to try following it once?”

In response to his suggestion, Cain answered with action.

Though clumsy, he could follow the swordsmanship movements quite decently.

“Huff! Huff!”

But wearing the breastplate and sandbags, after having practiced slashing dozens of times with the wooden training sword just before.

He had already consumed considerable stamina, and even if the movement was easy, following it wasn’t simple.

However, though it was so hard his will felt like it would break any moment, Cain did not give up.

There’s that saying, right?

Every drop of sweat shed now saves a drop of blood later.

Thus, when Cain gritted his teeth and clumsily followed all the movements Viscount Denver had shown, his entire body was screaming in pain.

But Cain’s mood wasn’t bad.

From the start, he had begun thinking it might be completely impossible on the first day.

Succeeding alone was better than expected.

One of the watching imperial guards approached and handed over ice-filled cold water and a dry towel.

Cain didn’t refuse and gulped down the cold water at once.

“Your Majesty.”

“Why, was it too bad?”

At Heinrich Denver’s serious expression, Cain smirked and joked.

“No. Your Majesty. I was surprised because it was too excellent. It’s too early for certainty, but perhaps you have talent in swordsmanship.”

“Talent in swordsmanship? Me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Though it was the first day, Heinrich Denver had seen some hard-to-explain talent in Cain’s movements, so he could answer Cain’s counter-question immediately.

But at that sight, Cain barely held back a hollow laugh.

As the developer, he had no memory of loading that much talent into the character Cain.

Well, it might be the influence of the unpublished DLC applied.

The team that pushed the ‘Imperial Hero Legend’ project wasn’t that large, so some areas of planning—like world setting and character composition—had been outsourced with basic guidelines.

Thus, among the unpublished DLCs applied this time, some touched by outsourcing.

If there was influence from that, there was no way for him to know.

Of course, high probability it was just Viscount Denver’s lip service to the emperor Cain.

“We’ll end here for today.”

In any case, Heinrich Denver tied up today’s training with a subtly excited expression.

Cain didn’t stubbornly insist he could do more for no reason.

Though he didn’t lack such feeling entirely, his body was already at its limit.

“That’s welcome news.”

This much was enough for today.

The imperial guards protecting the training ground had also witnessed the former wastrel Cain burning with strong will, so apart from building strength, the secondary goal was achieved.

Though the imperial guards’ mouths were heavy, positive changes naturally spread by word of mouth.

Right after training ended, Cain washed his sweat-soaked body and had lunch.

After finishing the meal under the strict escort of the imperial guards, before starting the full afternoon schedule, he decided to take a short rest by strolling the imperial palace garden to get some fresh air.

But then.

“Your Majesty.”

While walking in the garden enjoying the fresh breeze, one of the imperial guards, Rodolfo, approached.

Previously, before Cain’s ascension, he was a knight who had guarded his side at the fortress along with Viscount Denver.

“What’s the matter?”

When Viscount Denver asked the business on Cain’s behalf, Rodolfo silently pointed to the end of the garden.

There stood a neatly dressed maid with purple hair tied in a ponytail, bowing her head.

Cain recognized her and muttered inwardly.

That’s the Rachel.

Nightmare assassination cell, mostly composed of vampires.

Their main force had evacuated the capital Granada due to the ‘Beheading Priest’s’ visit.

However, now that a connection with Cain had formed, if they all left the capital in a state where communication was difficult as before, smooth contact could become problematic.

To solve this, the assassin dispatched by Isabella as a liaison was Rachel.

She was also a Grand Chevalier-level expert, and Cain knew the raven communication method was safe but cumbersome, so he had felt the need for an auxiliary liaison.

Naturally, he had accepted Isabella’s proposal and brought Rachel into the palace.

Thus, the temporary position Rachel held in the palace now was none other than ‘head maid.’

The head maid was naturally a position of high authority even in the palace teeming with high nobles…

But for reasons everyone knew, the previous one had lost her life in the founding festival catastrophe, leaving it vacant.

“The head maid.”

Cain glanced around once and approached Rachel, who stood in motionless posture.

“Has a reply come?”

There was news he had been waiting for.

Meeting Cain’s gaze—hoping for the desired answer—Rachel slowly opened her mouth.