[On the night of the new emperor’s coronation, a terrorist attack occurred at a hotel in Rien.]
[… The hotel, known for dealing only with VIPs, was considered the most luxurious hotel on the continent, but now it’s in such a disastrous state that even traces of it are hard to find.]
[The number of fatalities is currently estimated at 7. Experts speculate that since the targeted hotel boasted top-notch security, the guests, who were not only escorted by personal guards but also possessed strong combat skills, likely didn’t end up crushed under the debris.]
[There are around 1,200 injured individuals. The significantly low number of casualties, given the scale, is attributed to the efforts of Shiron Prient, newly appointed fiancé of the Empire’s Swordmaster.]
[Traces of simple sword slashes, not bombs or magic, were found everywhere. The perpetrator is presumed to be highly skilled, and according to eyewitnesses, the last seen group with distinctive black hair from the Empire entered the hotel…]
[Condemning the Empire’s past actions, along with relentless political slogans…]
[The newspaper extends gratitude to Shiron Prient, who continues to spare no effort in aiding the injured.]
“…”
Victor, putting down the newspaper, looked extremely weary. Not only was it because of the terrorist attack on the day of the coronation, but also because of the events of yesterday, where he had to address the crowd and condemn the terrorists’ actions amidst countless people.
Though Victor herself felt enraged upon hearing of the tragedy, it paled in comparison to the fury of the citizens. Proud to be part of the pillar of humanity that was the Empire, they poured out even greater wrath upon learning that their homeland had been targeted by terrorists.And so, the anger of the masses, numbering in the thousands, was transmitted to Victor like a sharp blade.
Even today, after a night had passed, Victor vividly felt the sensations of that moment.
Malice, anger, and malice again, revenge, and negativity in various forms.
Even though the fury wasn’t directed at Victor, if she were to stand before them…
“You’ve handled it well.”
A voice interrupted her thoughts. The former emperor, now in seclusion, held the same newspaper in his hand as Victor.
“Really?”
“Yes, standing before many people is a difficult task. Not to mention facing the public, where an outburst wouldn’t be out of place even under normal circumstances… It must have been a challenging position, akin to those legendary figures in stories.”
“… How was it?”
Taking off his glasses, Signer asked. The smile that appeared on his face revealed a childlike curiosity, overshadowing his age.
“It felt like… as if the heavens were testing me.”
Victor conveyed her genuine feelings about the situation. Though she wouldn’t have spoken of it before, dealing with Signer now seemed somehow easier.
Not coercion and autocracy, but generosity and pure joy.
Despite feeling discomfort at the sight of his father seemingly becoming a different person, Victor didn’t miss the opportunity to learn from Signer’s approach.
“Well then, you must still be in the midst of a test.”
Franz chuckled, his demeanor exuding joy rather than concern.
“Well, shall we speculate on the faction responsible for the terrorist attack?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Those uncivilized ones who don’t even know who they owe their lineage to.”
Victor’s fist tightened gradually. Signer observed her vigorous response with interest.
“Though we need detailed investigation results, the suspicions have already solidified.”
“There are many savages.”
“Entering as a minority elite and collapsing an entire building without using any magical tools… There aren’t many who would commit such absurd acts.”
The savages of Silleya. Victor’s intended target was clear.
“In that case, what do you propose we do? You did proclaim peace and prosperity at the ceremony…”
“Your Majesty, please don’t seek my answer. If you wanted to verify my thoughts one by one, I would have abdicated.”
“…”
“You must seek the answer yourself.”
Although these words were spoken, Signer conveyed a different meaning.
‘Let’s see how the Empire fares without my guidance.’
Pure curiosity and interest, devoid of both negativity and positivity. Such a speech was only possible after shedding the weight of the crown.
“We will share the burden that the Empire has carried alone with them.”
Responding indifferently to Signer’s suggestive words, Victor expressed calmly. The unexpectedly radical response caught the eye of Franz, a human being, for a moment.
“Shall we start by reducing expeditions? Ah! Retreating the borders entirely to allow the chaos to settle in the southern regions wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“…Didn’t you proclaim peace and prosperity?”
Franz asked, slightly taken aback.
“Every year, resources are lost due to expeditions. That’s how we build prosperity. Since those ungrateful leeches are dealing with the savages, they won’t even think of terrorism, which leads to peace.”
“…”
“Not just Silleya, but other uncivilized tribes as well. We will delegate the burden that the Empire has borne alone. Yes, let’s do that. Perhaps it’s time to change the way the punitive expeditions are conducted annually. It’s a bit… don’t you think? Wasn’t it too barbaric to test the abilities of young people?”
“…How about accommodating the savages in a special zone and making that place into the Arwen Plateau?”
Franz suggested, extending his body.
If they were to do as he suggested, it would mean blocking the waves of chaos, which occurred once a year, with only the savages… In that case, it would naturally sever the pulse of the savages.
Though he didn’t intend to intervene, Victor found herself becoming intrigued by the actions the current emperor was planning, inadvertently adding fuel to the fire.
“…Let’s consider it. It would be best to finalize the detailed plans during the conference.”
“You’re excellent.”
Not the first or second, but the third.
Originally timid and fragile, the third… But they said the position makes the man. Victor, now displaying such radical behavior, seemed to have shed all hesitancy.
Though she may have started off as unworthy of her title, Franz currently felt a strong sense of accomplishment, bordering on fate.
‘Maybe my existence has become a restraint…’
Franz bid farewell to his son, who had made the best choice, with satisfaction as he departed for the main palace.
In the tent set up at the site of the hotel wreckage three days later.
“Reducing the borders as a response to terrorism? That’s ridiculous!”
Siriel clenched her fists tightly, feeling a cold chill despite having returned from the palace. The news of the hotel, where her engagement ceremony was scheduled to be held, being destroyed had left her enraged, and her anger had not subsided even after quite some time had passed.
“Just starting a hunt for the savages would be unsatisfying enough, but responding so tepidly?!”
“…”
“Oh, does big brother think the same…?”
Siriel raised her head slowly. Having barely rested for a night due to the strain of summoning divine power, she still felt exhausted.
“…”
“Oh, big brother, are you tired?”
“Yeah.”
“Want me to make you a knee pillow?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to touch my test too?”
Shiron didn’t respond and just plopped down on his bed. In one corner of the tent, makeshift beds were laid out, and among them, Seira, who had transformed into her ethereal form, was peacefully asleep in a white gown.
It had been so hectic for the past three days. Truly exhausting.
Perhaps because most of the people with strained shoulders were patients, there was a constant clamor for various requests…
“I saw it clearly. The terrorists were savages with black hair.”
While trying to suppress the urge to lash out at everything, ominous rumors continued to circulate, and the headache wouldn’t go away.
In this world, there was only one group of savages with black hair.
[Nomadic Tribe Sileria]
While silently praying countless times in her heart that the terrorists weren’t them, Siriel was genuinely surprised by the response the royal family had brought forth.
Border reduction. Siriel quickly grasped its significance and looked at Shiron.
“It’s not a tepid response. It’s rather ruthless.”
“…Ruthless?”
“Yeah, I don’t know whose idea it was, but it was quite cleverly devised.”
“Balancing interests and justifications, that’s why.”
Deviale, who was pouring coffee, interjected. He also looked exhausted, perhaps from the dedication he and his priests had shown in treating patients for the past three days.
“By simply reducing a few expeditions and pulling the borders inward, the Empire can still maintain its strength intact. But it won’t be the case for other groups. Probably, we won’t even have the luxury to care about the waves of demons that infiltrate across the continent.”
“So…?”
Siriel’s head tilted in confusion, and Shiron continued Deviale’s words.
“If the purpose of the terror becomes famous and palpable, then it’s accomplished. They cursed for the Empire’s demise, but by actually orchestrating the downfall of the Empire, they’re only bringing ruin upon themselves.”
“As expected of a hero. You already see through it all.”
“…Of course. They might even come to the Empire and beg us to stop the demons. Furthermore, we might even send aid to the terrorists who instigated the terror.”
“…”
“Oh, it was a radical move that we failed to notice. Blah blah blah. I won’t complain anymore… As long as it stops there.”
Avoiding the Cardinal’s gaze, Shiron let out a bitter sigh.
Meanwhile, someone murmured from the corner.
“Isn’t that… too harsh?”
It was Lucia. After returning from her travels and Shiron’s whereabouts, she found herself in the midst of chaos. Eventually, she ended up joining the relief efforts before she could even clear her own doubts.
“Just kill the ones who committed the terror.”
Lucia added timidly.
“Not everyone did wrong…”
Lucia mumbled with her head buried in her knees.
She wanted to quickly tell Shiron about the secret of her birth, but she couldn’t find the right moment to do so.
Luck wasn’t on her side.
The destruction of the savages? The shadow of the Empire planning it? In such a situation, it wasn’t easy to speak carelessly.
And she wasn’t in the mood for it from the start.
The word she had heard countless times in the past, “savage.”
The word “savage” was now resounding everywhere in the Empire. It echoed in her ears wherever she went, and now it was even coming from the mouths of close friends.
Lucia was no longer Kyrie, and it had been over 500 years since she left the Silleria tribe. Moreover, even though it was clear that they were not cursing her, her identity as a Northern Barbarian had long been forgotten…
It felt strangely uncomfortable.
It was a strange situation.
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