“I know full well what you fear, but there is no need for such worry.”
Kain spoke with deliberate imperial authority in his voice, abandoning unnecessary formalities and adopting a firm tone to persuade Count Landerck.
“Do you truly presume to know what concerns me, Your Highness?”
Count Steiner Landerck replied in a tone that bordered on sharp, though not quite rude.
Kain could easily read the frustration written across the man’s face.
“You fear that the Empire’s Five Pillars will muster their armies and launch open war. Duke Hans Deneb—one of the Five Pillars—has his domain not far from the capital, so you are wary that they might use it as a foothold to march the combined might of the Five Pillars upon the imperial palace.”
“Y-yes… Your analysis is exact, Your Highness.”
Has the wastrel prince always read the political landscape this keenly?
Count Steiner Landerck was visibly astonished at Kain’s precise grasp of the Empire’s internal situation.
Kain, however, cut straight to the point.
“They may be able to gather armies, but they will not be the ones to start a full-scale war. Of this I am certain.”
“Your Highness, forgive my presumption, but if it is not too great an offense, could you explain the reason to your inadequate subjects?”
At that moment, Viscount Keilid stepped forward in place of the count, who was rolling his eyes in thought.
“That is not difficult.”
In another situation, a royal might have taken offense at the questioning.
But Kain—the former modern-day human—nodded readily and began his explanation.
“To put it simply, the Five Pillars cannot march on the capital first because they lack legitimate cause. …Though I suppose further elaboration is needed.”
Seeing Viscount Keilid’s eyes gleam with interest while Count Landerck stared blankly, Kain changed his approach.
He had evidently skipped too much context.
“M-my apologies.”
Count Landerck was a high-ranking noble, yet he had lived his life showing almost no interest in schemes or stratagems.
Walking only the path of the sword had inevitably dulled his political instincts.
Kain valued the man’s upright nature enough to overlook such shortcomings.
“No, it is fine. …To continue: because I still live, the Five Pillars have no justification they can raise to march on the capital.”
Viscount Keilid, who had observed central politics from the Ministry of the Interior for over forty years, inwardly nodded at Kain’s judgment.
At the same time, he hid his wonder at how a prince who had lived entirely detached from politics had acquired such insight.
Concealing one’s emotions before royalty was the secret that had allowed the viscount to survive so long in this place.
The Felberg Empire was an ancient realm of deep tradition, existing since the mythic age before the War of the End.
A powerful bond had formed around the imperial bloodline that inherited the Star Thrones.
Throughout its long history, the reigning Felberg house had never once been replaced; its symbolism and legitimacy were that strong.
Yet as time passed and the Sigils faded from memory, the imperial family lost power.
The Empire gradually walked the path of darkness and decline.
Even so, the loyalist nobles’ influence could never be ignored, and a considerable number of neutral nobles still remained.
In other words, despite the apparent confrontation between loyalists and the Five Pillars, many neutrals still acknowledged and respected the legitimacy of the Felberg line.
This was precisely why, with the last royal—Kain Felberg—still alive, the Five Pillars could not recklessly march on the capital.
If their armies advanced while a royal yet lived, it would amount to denying the Empire’s ancient history.
That would inevitably provoke the hostility of the neutral nobles who had remained on the sidelines.
Had every royal, including Kain, perished at the grand banquet, the Five Pillars could have claimed at least the minimal justification to seize the capital with massive forces.
But with the final royal, Kain Felberg, still alive, they could not.
Kain’s phrase “they lack cause” stemmed exactly from this context.
Yet.
“I understand Your Highness’s reasoning that the extreme scenario of the Five Pillars marching on the capital is unlikely. But is there truly a need to delay the coronation itself?”
Count Steiner Landerck cautiously raised a valid and natural question.
True to his principled, inflexible character, he yielded not an inch even before the future emperor.
“Would it not be better to ascend quickly and proclaim to every corner of the Empire that imperial authority remains intact?”
Even if he had been a wastrel, he was still royalty bearing the bloodline of the Star Thrones.
Only by ascending as soon as possible could the crumbling Felberg Empire be stitched back together.
Watching the count—who had walked the path of the sword his entire life and thus possessed an exceedingly straightforward mindset—Kain nearly sighed in frustration, but he understood.
In the count’s mind, there was no fundamental solution.
To him, the only way to break through all these crises was to fill the empty throne.
But Kain was different.
Kang Ji-hoon, the former lead developer who had held the title of overall director, knew a trump card that could once again make the near-shattered Felberg Empire great.
“Count Landerck.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“What do you believe is the reason the Felberg imperial house has endured until this day?”
“If I may speak plainly, it is because of the bloodline of the Star Thrones that has continued since the ancient mythic age.”
Count Landerck answered calmly.
As befitted an upright warrior, he was direct—making conversation easier.
“I take no offense, so do not worry. I am not the sort of man who crushes a subject’s spirit over trivialities.”
It was an utterly natural statement, yet not something one would expect from the mouth of a notorious wastrel.
Count Steiner Landerck was once again visibly surprised.
He had felt it throughout the entire journey to the capital, but the Third Prince Kain was a completely different person from the rumors.
“You saw the Sigil on the back of my hand.”
“Yes, I did.”
The mark that proved one had been granted the authority of a Star Throne—that was the Sigil.
From ancient times, those of the Felberg house who inherited the Star Thrones’ bloodline had wielded the Authorities through the Sigil, once using them to safeguard absolute imperial power and rule the nation.
But over the long years, both Sigil and Authority had been forgotten.
That was how vitally important the Sigil was.
“For a while, I will be unable to use this Sigil.”
“W-what? How…?”
At Kain’s explanation, Count Landerck inhaled sharply in shock.
After the Founding Day catastrophe, the Felberg Empire stood on the verge of utter collapse.
Yet the Sigil had reappeared after centuries—Kain bearing it was supposed to resolve this nightmare.
And now he said he could not use it?
“The Star Throne that left this mark is simply too powerful for me to control.”
“T-that is…”
“Be at ease. If the coronation schedule can be delayed, before the appointed day arrives I will be able to forge at least one Sigil that I can fully command.”
He would engrave another Sigil that had been lost for hundreds of years.
Kain declared this with a voice brimming with confidence.
A few months ago, such words from a drunken wastrel prince would have been dismissed as nonsense.
But the situation had changed.
Though it was now hidden again on the back of his hand, Count Landerck clearly remembered Kain wielding the authority of a Star Throne at Canossa Fortress to repel the enemy.
“Your Highness… I will trust and follow you.”
A subject need only offer loyalty; he had asked too many needless questions.
Count Steiner Landerck once more swore absolute fealty to the prince who would soon become Emperor, for the glory of the Empire and the imperial house.
While Kain persuaded Count Landerck, Aaron Valerian—who had joined them at Canossa Fortress and accompanied them to the palace—was on his way back after contacting other priests of the Emperor’s Cult residing in Granada.
Passing knights with sharp, wary eyes, Aaron returned to their lodging.
There, the high-ranking mage Vinson, a fellow believer, appeared before him.
“You are late.”
“Was there any incident at the palace while I was away?”
In these perilous times, worry for Kain came first.
At Aaron’s immediate concern for the prince’s well-being upon returning, Vinson sighed deeply with a tired expression and shook his head.
“Nothing happened. Nothing could happen. This is the imperial palace, after all.”
Even as he spoke, Vinson realized his mistake.
Only days ago, countless royals had been butchered inside what was supposed to be the safest place in the Felberg Empire.
Yet contrary to Vinson’s concern, Aaron’s attention remained fixed solely on Kain.
“And his meal? Did His Highness eat properly? I heard today’s main dish contained things he dislikes…”
“He ate well. So please, confirm that first.”
Urged by Vinson, Aaron gave a small cough and continued.
“The true royal has returned, so the Emperor’s Cult must end its seclusion and regroup all its forces. Soon we will summon every brother and sister to protect the imperial house.”
The Emperor’s Cult had been used and discarded repeatedly by the declining Felberg house, eventually choosing seclusion and aiding the imperial family only in secret.
Now the time had come for them to return.