1
Bells rang. Their heavenly clangor carried far over Selenoreion, rebounding from the palace walls. These bells belonged to one of the temples, no doubt, either calling devoted locals to service, or to mark a wedding, or perhaps a funeral instead. None of those occasions could be carried out rightly without paying appropriate homage to the Divines.
As the patron spirits of the Empire, the Three were in the position to prohibit the worship of all other Lords, if they so wished, yet they had not. The citizens were and had always been at liberty to choose which aesa of myth they would turn to with their mortal concerns. Whether their prayers were heard or responded to was, of course, a separate matter.
This carefree, indulgent freedom gave Bhastifal its uniquely diverse, leisurely air.
But to princess Yuliana, that normally solemn air seemed to bear a sobering sense of foreboding today.
On the street outside the Imperial Palace, Yuliana was greeted by the sight of a luxurious carriage, and a line of fifty knights in brightly shining armors. The carriage, crafted of the black eoben wood from northern Felorn and held together by ornate, hand-forged white titanium frames, had two pairs of noble, pearl-furred horses to move it.
The knights, indistinguishable from one another, stood in attention on both sides of the carriage, twenty-five on the left, an identical count on the right, their crimson capes fluttering in the brisk afternoon wind.
There were two additional figures also.
Right before the gate, dressed in a dark green doublet, a black jerkin, as well as a lighter-colored stole over his shoulders, was his majesty, the Emperor. Naturally, trousers as well he wore, straight black, and light shoes made of shining leather. A large, silver-made medallion sporting the Imperial emblem hung in a chain around his neck, as a proof of his rank, together with the regal ring on his left middle finger.
“Your highness,” the man greeted Yuliana with a nod.
Instead of answering in kind, Yuliana turned her gaze towards the second eye-catching figure.
A distance behind the Emperor, near the carriage by the road, stood a man of intimidating stature. Nearly a head and a half taller than the sovereign, that person was hardly dressed for an aristocratic celebration. His thick arms were bare up to the bulky shoulders, and only a slim breastplate covered his torso. He had spartan leather shorts, which left his knees bare, and for footwear he only had rudimentary sandals. All in all, he looked like someone bound for beach games before anything remotely royal.
This only meant he was someone who could afford to forgo the etiquette, above all law and jurisdiction—with a rank even beyond a princess in this odd land.
One of Tratovia’s famous heroes, that man had purchased his freedom from social scrutiny through exceptional, heroic feats of war. His achievements had lifted him from obscurity to immortality, as a name to be passed from generation to generation, even after his earthly journey should end.
That name was Bramms.
Bramms of Oblong, he was once called, after his hometown.
Today, most people knew him better by his title, “Grand Shield”, after his iconic armament.
On one of his adventures, the man had happened upon an enormous shield, crafted by an ancient race, of a sparse mineral harder than steel. No other man could even imagine lifting such a heavy object, yet Bramms went on to employ it both to defend lives as well as to crush them, in the service of the Imperial Throne.
Still, it was difficult to take him for a hardened warrior, despite his muscular form.
For the look on Bramms’s face was pure and guileless.
Before lust for power, control, revenge, pleasure, or bloodthirst, the man had been driven through life mostly by sheer competitive passion.
Before a soldier, it was probably better to label him an athlete.
For that man, even war, the taking of lives, was a sport.
Not something to be done for the fun and pleasure of it, or for any mundane objective, but simply a challenge, an almost holy trial to undertake, to surpass one’s own corporeal self and the limits of humanity.
Each excruciating storm of steel that Bramms had been through had helped sculpt him towards perfection—towards divinity.
“I was under the impression that the festivities were to begin later,” Yuliana turned back to the Emperor and said. The skies were bright, the sun still high up. It would be quite some time before dusk.
“And you would be correct,” the Emperor answered her. “However, I was hoping we could take some time to ourselves before then. It’s such a beautiful day, it would be a shame to spend it all holed up indoors, waiting. Don’t you think?”
“What do you have in mind?” Yuliana eyed the man with suspicion.
“Driving around,” he shrugged, “enjoying the city, perhaps having a bit of lunch somewhere along the way,” he answered. “You can call it a date, if you like.”
“I don’t get your meaning...It seems a man in your position is more free than I imagined.”
“For you, I will make the time,” the Emperor said and gestured towards the carriage. “Shall we?”
Yuliana looked ahead, at the carriage. And the brawny man next to it. The stern gaze of his blue eyes was fixed at her.
“Somehow, I don’t think I can bring myself to relax in company so famous,” she said.
“You have nothing to fear from Bramms, your highness,” the Emperor said. “He’s here as our shield and nothing more. Rather, it is with a ceiling so reliable that one can easily relax even in the fiercest of storms. What say you, Bramms? A few words of assurance to her highness.”
The tall hero glumly looked away.
“I would rather not,” he said. “The gaze of this noble maiden makes me restless. I fear it could become an impediment to my duty, were I to give her unnecessary attention.”
“See what I mean?” the Emperor turned back to Yuliana. “You wouldn’t believe a man of his caliber was a stranger to women, but very little else beyond combat goes through his mind.”
“Somehow, I feel I’m being mocked,” the princess replied with a scowl. “No matter. There is no way out of this invitation for me, yes? Then let us get on with it.”
“When there is no way out of the path of destiny, you face it with resolve...” The Emperor nodded. “Your radiance grows by the day, it seems.”
“You will find that it takes more than parties, dates, and flattery to change my mind, your majesty. At least in that regard, I am my father’s daughter.”
They went on to board the carriage, the Emperor and Yuliana inside, Bramms getting up next to the driver on the front seat. Turning half a circle to face the road, the knights made a united salute, and the ride left off with a snap of the driver’s whip.
Confused, Yuliana observed that the platoon of knights were left behind before the palace, making no effort to follow them. Not that they could, without horses. Did the ruler of the Empire really intend to travel the city with only one mercenary for protection? No matter how able the bodyguard, it seemed too reckless.
The Emperor appeared to see what the princess was thinking.
“It wouldn’t be much of a date with that many chaperons, would it? Rest assured, if it ever comes down to it, I shall defend you with my life.”
“You needn’t give up your life, if only you leave our defense to me,” Yuliana responded. “I don’t mean to offend, your majesty, but I can see your hands aren’t those of a swordsman.”
“That is very perceptive of you,” he made no effort to deny it. “Yes, I am not all that fond of swords. Though in my life, I have seen weapons capable of so much worse.”
“Weapons your soldiers use to deliver death outside your borders, perhaps?”
“...I see we Imperials are fiercely hated. Perhaps for a reason. But I do hope to change this.”
“And how will you do so, if I may ask?”
“By any means necessary.”
“You have made this clear, yes.”
“Such cold words,” the Emperor breathed a sigh with a bit of a helpless smile. “Are you forgetting how you nearly had me killed on the night of your arrival? Did I ever let that impede on our relationship? I believe I have shown a great deal of open-mindedness and understanding in our dealings since, even if I took some extreme measures. Measures that should pale in comparison to being beheaded.”
“I...” Being reminded again of what happened days back, Yuliana looked away in shame. “It was not my intention...for that to happen.”
“Yet, your companion tried to kill me all the same, while you stood and watched. The person you named as your friend. What a peculiar acquaintance, for a pacifist such as yourself. Provided you are indeed every bit as peaceful as you profess yourself to be.”
Yuliana failed to respond.
Where was Izumi now, anyway? What was she doing? Hopefully, whatever it was, she was far away from Bhastifal. But in addition to this anxious worry for the woman’s safety, the princess also felt remorseful over the consequences of her thoughtless actions.
Why did it have to turn out this way? Had she been able to restrain herself better, had I been able to stop her, we could be sitting here together now. Yes, were she by my side, I wouldn’t be having such a hard time...
“That woman...” The Emperor suddenly spoke, shaking Yuliana from her reflections. “She said she was summoned from another world? Was it true?”
The man’s face was forcibly neutral, like a mask.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Yuliana asked in return. It was indeed an absurd story, and she wouldn’t have believed it herself, were she not there to see it happen.
“I would,” the Emperor said. “If you say so.”
“What difference does it make?” Yuliana asked. “From this world or outside, she will still lose her life for defying the Emperor, the same as anyone else.”
“Could be.”
“Or perhaps, if you don’t leave her in peace, it may well be that you’ll lose your life in her hands instead.”
The Emperor didn’t comment. His face looked even stiffer.
“A human summoned from another world,” he spoke after a lengthy pause. “Will become the doom of Ortho.”
“So the prophecy of Geltsemanhe foretells,” Yuliana replied.
“Unless the Trophaeum is conquered in time, the world will fall into decay and ruin...But if the Tower of Destiny is overtaken by a summoned champion, we will enter the Age of Chaos instead. No matter what we do, terrible perils lurk behind each choice.”
“It won’t come to be, if the Tower is conquered by one native to this world. If we do it. If you help me do it.”
“Do not kid yourself, your highness. You do not have such power. Neither of us does. Not even the might of the Empire will be enough, alone.”
“Then the way we go about it is wrong.”
“The way we choose must be one that holds the greatest chances of success. Sending one princess to the land of monsters is not it.”
“It is no less difficult to conquer the world with the power of fleets and armies, in the time we have left.”
“It can be done. Will be. With each new land to join us, the power in our possession is exponentially added to. Whether we should grow our might through diplomacy or war, you are here to show us. Which is the best, the most efficient path?”
“You may compel a young and inexperienced girl, your majesty. You may have bribed Luctretz and Ledarnia to your side. But before the King of Alderia, before the crulean citadels of steel, before my father’s throne, you will find yourself a young and inexperienced boy yourself, whose words will convince no one. You will not conquer those lands by force. Not anywhere near all of them. And even if you somehow could, all that would be lost in the land of daemons, where entire civilizations more capable than yours fell to ruin before. You must see that your plan here is the one that is only dreams.”
Without saying anything, the Emperor closed his eyes, deep wrinkles dividing his forehead. He glanced outside the window and—suddenly bounced up to his feet, striking the roof with his fist.
“DRIVER, STOP THE CART!” he hollered.
Had he gone mad? Startled, Yuliana looked at the sovereign, in whose eyes a sudden, intense gleam had appeared. Before the ride had even fully stilled, he already opened the door and leaped out to the street.
Confused, Yuliana peeked her head out, to see what had gotten to him.
“There it is!” the man exclaimed back at her, excited, pointing ahead. “Restaurant Halio! Right where I remembered it was! How long I’ve waited to visit it again! Hurry, your highness! The food here will change your world!”
The princess blinked her eyes, no less confused.
“...Excuse me?”
2
In a shady room deep within the Imperial Palace, lit only by clusters of candles by the walls, a certain summoned woman from Earth faced yet another intense situation. She, who had braved through a great many life-risking, life-changing predicaments since her arrival in this extraordinary world, now found her courage rapidly faltering.
“I—I don’t think I can do it, after all,” she confessed.
“Be quiet and lie down,” the only other person in the room, Court Wizard Carmelia, curtly ordered the woman, showing little empathy or understanding.
Despite the command, Izumi failed to move. She looked at the room around her, though there was not much to look at. Rather than anything specific in it, the atmosphere was what sent her head spinning. The warm red filter the candlelights painted in her vision, the spicy, soothing scent of incense, it all seemed deeply intimate and foreign to her.
“Thinking about arcane rituals, I expected something a little...different,” Izumi said, her cheeks burning. “I don’t know what exactly, but certainly nothing like this! I know I already said yes, but that was before I knew the specifics! I-it’s a woman’s right to call it off whenever she feels like it, even without any real reason! I don’t mean to be difficult on purpose or look like a whimsical person, I just think I need a little more time to calmly think this through and prepare myself...if possible.”
“A possibility it is not,” the sorceress replied, fiddling with something in the back of the room. “What are you doing, still with your clothes on? I told you to undress. Be quick now, for time is of the essence. It has been a long time since I last did this, so it could take a while.”
Reluctantly, Izumi started to take off her shirt.
“Y-you’ve done it before? J-just how long does it take, typically?” she asked. “It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but I don’t have a wealth of experience with this sort of thing...”
“Some hours, perhaps. Even longer, if you keep delaying.”
“Hours? Oh my. You sure have stamina, to be able to keep going for so long. I-is it many times now? That you’ve done this…?”
“For how long do you think I’ve lived?” Carmelia proudly answered. “There is no magician alive more experienced at this nor more qualified than I. I’ve served kings and heroes of renown, who all entrusted their lives to me and no other, knowing my work comes without any room for error. You should be honored to have the privilege of feeling my hands, as a mere mortal. Among your kind, you are certainly special.”
Izumi’s fluster only deepened.
“D-did you have to phrase it like that? As if it wasn’t awkward enough! No matter how experienced you are, remember that it’s a first for me! In my chest still beats an innocent, sensitive heart! If something goes wrong, I could be traumatized for life!”
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“Nothing goes wrong. I told you, I make no mistakes. But the longer you tarry, the more I am starting to feel like reconfiguring your entire form, starting with the tongue. Enough babbling, hurry up and remove your clothes. Yes, all of them. Nothing must interfere with the flow of energy.”
“D-does it hurt a lot?” Izumi asked, starting to take off her breeches. “I’ve heard it can be pretty painful...the first time, at least.”
“Perhaps. You’ll get used to it soon enough. Are you truly saying you would be bothered by such meager discomfort, after all that you’ve been through?”
“I can’t help it! I’m allergic to needles!”
“Get onto the table.”
In front of Izumi was a narrow, rectangular table long enough for a person to lie down on, with a thick, colorful carpet pulled over it. Having reluctantly undressed, red out of embarrassment, Izumi covered her chest with her right arm, and awkwardly climbed onto the table, to lay down on her stomach.
“Do not move,” Carmelia said.
The sorceress snapped her fingers and subsequently the black dress that veiled her slender figure melted into nothing. A semi-transparent, oddly modern-looking bodysuit was left to cover her form to a sufficient degree, but her long arms and shapely legs were entirely bare now, free to move.
Even that fairly conservative amount of skin exposure was too much stimulation for Izumi, who tightly squeezed her eyes shut and looked away.
Without further ado, the elven magician went on to take a pen-like instrument with a sharp needle attached on one end, and nimbly lifted herself onto the table, to stand on her knees over Izumi’s back. Had the woman been able to see that highly erotic positioning from an outside point of view, she probably would have fainted on the spot.
The occasion was not quite as sensual as one might imagine, however.
Although, in a way, it was also far more so.
“I will now engrave the runes onto your body,” Carmelia announced. “Such is the form of secula sonatea, the arc of alignment. This way, the chosen words can be attuned for maximum compatibility, cast instantly, and they can never be removed from you, for as long as you live.”
“My pops would kill me if he ever saw me taking a tattoo...” Izumi bemoaned. “I’ve become such a rotten girl! Boo-hoo...”
“Keep still. I will begin.”
“Hn.”
The needle pricked the skin on Izumi’s upper back.
It hurt, of course, but the pain was different from what Izumi had expected. A mysterious, ticklish heat spread from the touch, permeating the skin, seeping through her muscles. It wasn’t any ordinary tattoo she was taking. The runes were not only drawn on her skin, her very soul was being marked by Carmelia’s magic. Once the arc was completed, something like a skin transplant wouldn’t be able to remove the characters. They would follow her to the grave.
“Humans are soft and malleable in both body and spirit. This is proving easier than I imagined it would be,” Carmelia commented, cleaning the instrument after completing the first rune. “Well? Do you now regret pledging your allegiance to me?”
“There’s no other choice, is there?” Izumi replied with a sigh. “Killing the Emperor aside, there’s no way I can keep living in this world, unless I get stronger. So I suppose I should be grateful instead. No, honestly, I owe you a lot. Probably too much.”
“You feel indebted to me?” the sorceress asked, as if surprised. “Did it ever occur to you that beyond the common good of freeing us of a tyrant, I could have ulterior motives? Are you not afraid that I might make you my puppet, to only move by my will, until you break and can be discarded without care?”
“Do you have any then?”
“Ulterior motives, you mean?”
“No, a will to call your own.”
The sorceress fell quiet.
“Somehow,” Izumi continued, “I get this feeling that you’re never thinking about what you want for yourself. Not one bit. No matter how annoying, or painful, or bothersome something is, you’ll still do it without thinking, if it’s for the good of your people. Just for the ideal. And that’s probably the way you’ve been living for who knows how many centuries, right? You can even kill without any hard feelings, because you’ve been killing your own will and feelings for much longer.”
“...What makes you say that?”
“Just a thought. I mean, it might be presumptuous to say, but you kind of remind me of...me. Of how I used to be. Or tried to be, more like.”
“Used to be?”
“I grew up trying hard to live the way my family expected me to. All I wanted was to make those I loved smile, so I made sure to do only what kept them happy. If only I did so, then I could be happy myself—those childish thoughts were everything to me. But it was difficult. There were no monsters or apocalyptic happenings, but even without some, people sure can be difficult to please. No matter how well I did, they’d keep finding flaws and telling me to do better the next time. It got kind of scary, as I got older. Before I realized, I got too scared to try anything I really wanted, because I feared it would make somebody mad. And the more people praised me for going along with their wants, the harder it got to even think about not doing it. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so I quietly went along with whatever they said, while killing my own will each day.”
“That is rather different from the way I perceive you,” the sorceress remarked.
“No kidding? Well, that was when I was young. I’m not living like that anymore, obviously. You see, I kind of messed up. I was fifteen or so back then. Can’t remember too well anymore, I try not to think about it. Anyway, I did something that upset a lot of people. It would seem like a real petty thing to you now, but in just one moment, I lost the trust I’d built for all my life until that point. No one would ever hold any expectations for me again. No matter how many times I’d succeed, they’d just expect me to ruin things soon again. Before I realized, my family had stopped seeing me as their child. I’d become just a nuisance to them. A strain. A big waste of time and money.”
“I see.”
“Ah, it sure sucked at the time. But over time, I realized something. If no one expects anything from you, there’s no reason to try to please them either. In other words, for the first time in my life, I was left free to pursue my own dream. I could do whatever, and nobody cared enough to stop me. Well, that doesn’t mean blindly pursuing your dreams is always a good idea, and my dream happened to be pretty stupid. I ended up messing up my life for good. I could never hope to become like the others again, even if I wanted to. If I hadn’t been summoned to this world, it really would’ve been the end of the line for me. What a miracle, don’t you think?”
“So coming here was a chance to redeem yourself? Is that it?”
“Something better than that,” Izumi replied. “This is my real beginning. It’s only in the time I’ve been here that I’ve truly ‘lived’—that’s how I feel.”
Reflecting on her words for a moment, Carmelia ultimately returned to work.
“...I cannot comprehend a person like you.”
“Ow! Take it easy with the pointy thing!”
“Then, it was only because you killed your sense of self in the other world, that you feel no restraint towards killing now?” the sorceress asked.
“Well, not quite,” Izumi answered. “In the beginning, I didn’t even think this world was real, so I thought nothing about killing to defend myself. Living by the sword was my dream, after all. But once I got started on that path, it got pretty hard to turn away. Even after accepting this as my new reality, only problems of the more extreme sort kept coming my way. So there was no helping it. I couldn’t start to feel retroactively guilty about what was already history, either. But...”
“But?”
“I do feel guilty for not feeling guilty.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m not a total monster, all right. I can love people. And I want to be loved back too, even if I’m bad at showing it. Since coming to this world, I’ve met a number of people who managed to steal my heart on the spot. But no matter what I do, it seems they keep on drifting away from me. I couldn’t be the person they needed me to be. It seems all I can do is bring everybody more problems. As I thought, building a harem is a lot harder in reality than it is in light novels...”
“And one of those people is the Langorian princess?” Carmelia deduced.
“Yeah,” Izumi nodded. “‘Is there anything I can do for her…?’ That’s all I’ve been thinking ever since I first got here. Protecting a princess is the hero’s raison d’etre, right? But, I’m not really helping her, huh? I can’t exactly say people are difficult to please in this case either, can I? Just, rather than me, that girl might need someone more like the other people from my world by her side...”
“Someone unreasonably demanding, you mean?”
“I was going for well-behaved, but I guess that might work too.”
“And? What is it that the princess wants?”
“I have no clue.”
“You don’t know?”
“When we first met, she said she wanted to be reborn as a guy and do her life over. Since her parents wanted a boy. But that’s no good. That’s not a dream. It’s too sad to be called one. It doesn’t matter what your parents want, don’t make the same mistake I did! Unless you do it for yourself, because you want to, then there’s no meaning, is there?”
Carmelia’s hand stopped.
“...As I thought, this is distracting.”
3
The restaurant called Halio wasn’t a place for kings by any means. It was probably better described as a bistro and that was being lenient. A cramped little place with barely twenty seats, it only had a few customers at this point of the day, with dirty floors and dust gathering on the old, yellow-red glass lanterns hanging from the ceiling.
Ignoring the absence of high class customer service, announcements, and fanfares, the Emperor took a seat at a small table by the window. The Imperial counselors should have been horrified by this sudden whim of his, but none were presently there to advise against it. The driver of the carriage remained where he sat, without an opinion or authority to voice it. The hero Bramms as well merely took position by the front door, facing the street, to see to it that his majesty’s lunch hour wasn’t needlessly disturbed. And Yuliana, not knowing what else to do, took the chair opposite of the ruler, at his urgent beckoning.
“The house special for two, please!” the Emperor called out to a short, bald, old man behind the counter, who simply nodded without a word and shortly disappeared into the kitchen in the next room.
Then they waited.
“What a beautiful day indeed,” his majesty said, gazing out of the window.
Yuliana remained silent.
The distance between them was greatly shorter than at breakfast times, but it didn’t help her to understand his thoughts any better. Never would she have imagined that a man of his rank would do such a thing, all out of the blue. How carefree and relaxed was his countenance too, it was like he had become a different person entirely. Was this part of some bizarre strategy to win her trust? Or had he been sincere in claiming he wanted to spend the day free of all politics and state affairs? No, that couldn’t possibly be right. No man in his position could be so reckless as to forget what was at stake, even for one day.
The world could end in less than a year...Every single hour mattered.
“Ah, there it comes!”
As Yuliana was still absorbed in these dark thoughts, their meal was carried to the table. Two large plates were placed between them, bearing dishes the likes of which the princess had never seen before. She knew crude army food, as well as courses prepared by masters of man-made cuisine, domestic and foreign, but the food she faced now made her forget all else.
“This is…?”
There was something like a large, flat bread, circular and folded in two, with vegetables, grilled meat, and sauce stuffed inside. The spicy, rich scent made her stomach recall how empty it was, at once releasing a weak howl.
With boyish excitement on his face, the Emperor seized his fork and knife without delay.
“Oh, don’t wait for my permission,” he said and dug in.
His manners were far removed from the etiquette of the royal tables, as he sawed off one large piece at a time and hungrily stuffed them in his mouth, chewing with a look as if it was the greatest delicacy ever conceived.
With far more reservation, Yuliana followed suit.
“Hm…?” Taking a bite, she began to understand the Emperor’s enthusiasm.
She tasted soft-cooked, finely sliced Contagio cabbage, Param salad, ripe cherry tomatoes, and onions circles—perfectly sauteed, strongly flavored cuts of Honlan beef with a most delicious sauce blending an unknown, bold yet enticing mixture of spices. Everything was bound together by the crisp-baked, yet not too tough bread, which would’ve been appetizing enough to eat by itself.
For some time, they were too occupied with eating to pay attention to anything else.
It was only after finishing the whole hearty meal that Yuliana set aside her utensils, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and looked up.
“Anything else?” The grum chef curtly asked as he came to pick up the dishes. By this point, even the princess had forgiven his poor manners.
“Just water, please,” she ordered.
“An ale for me, master,” the Emperor requested.
Nodding, the chef disappeared in the kitchen once more.
“Well?” his majesty asked the princess. “Was the food to your liking?”
“It certainly was a novel experience,” Yuliana modestly answered. “How did you ever come across such a place?”
“It wasn’t always quail eggs and white wine for me. Before my...ascension, I was used to considerably more rustic flavors.”
“Somehow, that’s difficult to picture.”
“There is a lot about me that you don’t know yet,” he told her. “A lot I don’t know about yourself. And it is to mend this that we’re here today. Perhaps after this day we are able to discover something that neither of us would be able to see alone.”
“Well, that is the first of your proposals I am not entirely opposed to,” Yuliana said.
“It’s a start, then.”
The two spent some time in silence, savoring the after meal drinks delivered, as well as the rare, stress-free moment in their otherwise heavy lives. Then, halfway through his ale, the Emperor suddenly spoke in a contemplative tone,
“Survival of the fittest, the law of nature...Do you think life everywhere adheres to this cruel principle? That only the strong and ruthless may find success? If so, then why were we people ever given the freedom to think otherwise, to imagine we could rebel against a rule so dominant and ever present?”
Yuliana thought for a moment.
“I suppose the answer boils down to one’s definition of strength,” she said. “Where one person sees cruelty and ruthlessness as the most efficient course of action, another might see unity, and the show of compassion to one another. The leader of a country so used to warfare should know that many together are more powerful than any one alone.”
“Perhaps. Yet it is hardly compassion alone that drives armies, or holds them together. It is either fear or lies. Fear for what happens, should the enemy win. Lies which convince one that his cause is superior to that of the others, that the others are less than human, even though all life is supposed to be equal.”
“Is there something you’re trying to say with this, or are you simply taken by the message of nihilism in general?”
“I suppose you could say that I have expectations.”
“Expectations? For who.”
“Yourself, naturally. Yes, it wouldn’t be wrong to say I am depending on you, your highness. To come up with an answer that I am powerless to find on my own. To convince us all that your sense of justice is superior to my own.”
“So you’re testing me again? Is that it?”
The Emperor turned his ale glass in his grip.
“We are all being tested, each day. But that isn’t what I wanted to say. Let’s see. Since we have some time now, allow me to tell you a little story, to illustrate my dilemma.”
Unsure of where all this was going, Yuliana remained quiet and listened with caution. But the Emperor, with an almost exaggeratedly carefree air, didn’t mind her suspicious look, and spoke,
“I once heard this tale of a man from a land far, far away. That land was once the very image of hope and peace. A place without knights or kings, without evil creatures or Divines, where everyone from peasant to noble was deemed equal. And everyone shared the equal chance to rise to prosperity through earnest effort, independent of their origins. Those people lived in a magical time when it seemed their possibilities were limitless, and that nothing could stop their growth. Indeed, they believed they could one day soon reach the very stars themselves. And this man I’m talking about was no different from the rest. Each day, he gave his all to be part of the success, working to bring food and security to his family, his wife and daughter. And, who knows, to maybe one day show them a future brighter than they could imagine.”
“It sounds like a good country to live in,” Yuliana commented.
“The best. Ah, everyone thought the same, I’m sure,” the Emperor nodded. “However, this golden age did not last forever. One day, all too soon, the people of that land awoke to see their dream mercilessly crushed in one blow. Can you imagine how or why?”
“I suppose they fell victim to forces that coveted their prosperity?” the princess suggested after brief thought. “They enjoyed such peace that it lulled them under a false sense of security, and forgot to prepare against outside enemies. This man you describe no doubt lost his family to the terrors of war, which he had grown powerless to resist. And furthermore, I reckon the message you’re going for is about how harmony makes one weak against adversity? Am I correct?”
“No, no, not at all. You would be sorely mistaken there,” the man shook his head.
Yuliana twisted her face, puzzled.
“They weren’t weak and no enemy dared dream of attacking the country,” the Emperor told her. “No tragic disaster claimed the man’s family either. And yet, he nevertheless lost everything, as did countless others like him. Ah, perhaps this is a matter too difficult for one born into nobility to grasp.”
“Then keep me in suspense no longer. I admit I can’t see the answer.”
“The reason was simple, yet beyond anyone’s ability to foresee at the time. The people lost their wealth—simply because they lost their faith in it.”
“Their faith…?”
“That’s correct. ‘We are doing so well right now, this cannot continue forever’—deep in their hearts, all the people of that country felt the same. They each started to take measures to prepare for the inevitable crash, and in doing so, inadvertently caused it to happen. The land’s currency lost value overnight. People hurried to trade away their investments and property, to minimize their losses, which devalued the fortune they’d amassed all the same. Such are the laws of supply and demand. The value of countless products plummeted, as no one could afford them, leading enterprises to fire their needless employees. Not that the workers had any purpose doing their jobs either, as their salaries had lost all worth. Farms were shut down, leading to a shortage of food. Simply put, a dreadful chain reaction brought down everything that had made the land once great. Besides their work and property, many lost their hope for the future altogether and ended up taking their own lives.”
“That’s...terrible,” Yuliana whispered.
“The man of our tale couldn’t escape, of course. After losing his job, he lost his home, which he had taken a great debt to buy, and even giving up everything else he owned could not begin to pay it back. His family left him. Another man came around and offered his wife a more stable future; she didn’t think twice about taking it. Powerless, the man watched everyone he loved drift away from his life. There was no evil enemy to fight. Not monstrosity to swear undying vengeance against. Only cold, harsh numbers, illustrating the man’s own stupidity, the folly of his dreams.”
“What happened to him then?”
“He died, homeless and starved.” The Emperor shrugged. “He was a pawn to a fate he could never rise above. What could have saved such a man? Should he have been more ruthless and calculating? Had he killed his emotions, severed his bonds with his family before they could do the same to him, he might still be alive. Had he possessed the ambition and greed of his rivals, had he climbed to a position of leadership at his company, perhaps he could have somehow weathered the collapse? In a situation where a man has no one else to rely on, where everyone shares his plight, who else could he count on but himself to pull through? You were correct in your assessment after all, on his part; peace and compassion had rendered him soft, unable to oppose his competitors.”
The Emperor fell silent.
Yuliana didn’t immediately answer him, but looked away.
Still, there was no way she could leave the tale at that.
“No,” she finally shook her head. “That may be true, in a sense, but there’s no way anyone with a human heart could blame that man for not resorting to evil. His hopes and dreams were exploited, but that doesn’t mean they were mistaken. The fault lies with those who took advantage of him, and those who turned a blind eye to his struggle. It’s because his land didn’t have knights to defend his basic rights that it all fell to ruin. It’s because they lacked a wise king to foresee and prevent this crisis, and judge those who benefited from it. That land didn’t go through a golden age, after all; they were only unaware of the evil they had built their wealth upon, until it was too late. It is to prevent such tragedies that we must choose wisely. Not rule over people—but together with them. Rule with reason, but also with kindness. Kindness, like that of the man. Yes. I believe he would have made a far better king than any of those calculating pragmatists, who lived through the crash at the expense of others.”
“...”
The Emperor said nothing. He had a weird expression on his face, which he hurried to hide by looking out of the window. Knowing he couldn’t escape Yuliana’s perceptive gaze so easily, he absentmindedly got up from his seat, dug out a few gold coins from his pocket and left them on the table.
“We should be going,” he mumbled and headed out.
Really, what’s the matter with him today?
Her confusion hardly lessened, Yuliana rose as well and followed after the man, back to the sunlit street outside the restaurant.