Prologue 「200 Years of Regret」
----------------------------------------
A steady breeze from the east touched his snowy hair, wrinkled skin, and royal mantle as he glanced toward his kingdom with a somber gaze. The last rays of the sun evinced the beautiful kingdom beneath. The magnificent white cliffs, soaring birds, rising pagodas, and cheerful expressions on people's faces.
When an empire prospers, which emperor would not have a look of pride on his face?
He felt the same, yet his heart felt shallow.
Closing his eyes, he sighed and reminded himself, 'The sole thing that gives me some relief is looking at this view.'
In the dark, he returned from the sundeck to his chamber.
On his way, many guards attended him.
"Greetings to the Emperor."
"Greetings to the Emperor."
"Greetings to the Emperor."
Clack!
The gates opened.
As he strolled forward, he saw the throne getting bigger and bigger.
'The Accursed Throne'—he called it.
The very throne he dedicated his life to.
The very throne for which he sacrificed his freedom.
The very throne he got with his blood and sweat.
The very throne that allowed him to experience various pleasures in this world.
The very throne he admired, craved and worshipped.
The very throne he hated sincerely.
While ascending the stairs to reach the throne, he was reminded of the hardships he faced to reach this point, but it also reminded him of the pleasures he savored along the way.
'The journey of life, no matter how cruel, one has no choice but to walk on it. The journey of life, no matter how delightful, one has to end it one day,' such thoughts came deep from his heart as he ascended to the throne.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Nostalgic feelings flooded his mind as he sat on the throne. But not of the times when he sat there and ruled but of the times when his father briefed the values of the throne.
He still remembered his father's words, "What you see in front is nothing but metal junk, but while lying there, many kings ruled this nation. Many came and went. Regrettably, the ruling responsibilities burden my shoulders now, but you shall inherit those burdens one day. I believe when the time comes, you will realize what the throne truly signifies."
That day he had looked at the throne with glistening eyes. Until he recalled the demeanor of cruel reality, so, with tearful eyes, he'd asked, "How could I ever be a monarch? I am not strong like my brothers. My bones are fragile and could shatter at any moment. I do not even know if I will even survive." While patting his head, his father responded, "Fear not. You will live, survive, and someday you will rise."
His father's words became the truth. He survived and ruled, but at what cost?
Unlike his brothers, he could not perform martial arts and lived in a world where strong survived.
To be born as a prince was his fortune—had he been born anywhere else, he would not have survived as his bones were frail. He was sickly; he should have died before he was 15, but he survived, as his father saved his life using unorthodox methods. Still, he could not use martial arts. Thus, he remained a weakling,
His father adored him the most, so he wanted to make him the king while his two powerful brothers would be assigned to protect him. A father's naïve dream, a king's reckless decision. Ideal dreams often never come true, and this one decision led to a history tainted by betrayals and bloodshed.
In the beginning, the brothers lived like a proper family. Maybe it was because they did not consider him a threat. Well, who knows?
The phrase, time changes a person, could not have been more accurate.
The tragedies he faced because of the changes still ached his heart when he thought about it.
"My lord," one councillor spoke.
He regained his senses and thought, 'What is the use of thinking back now?' With a sharp tone, he commanded, "You may speak."
"The siege in Castrar has ended, and the drought in the west lands has decreased. The rebels are no more. My lord, the empire now prospers. All these years of effort are finally paying off, and an Era of Peace might just take root."
With a blank stare, he replied, "I see. Anything else."
"Most princes have broken through their bottleneck and are now advancing to higher realms. We should celebrate this occasion."
While relaxing his muscles and sighing, he said, "Yes, hold a celebration. Let them enjoy their youth."
"Yes, m'lord, they will be pleased to see you."
With a light smile on his face, "I won't be attending. It will leave a foul taste in their mouths if they see their weak father attending their celebration."
"No, m'lord, that's not how they feel."
His expression changed, "Humph, you may all leave."
Unable to deny the king, they all left.
The king slowly walked towards his chamber.
There was a statue of a bodhisattva in his room, so he made a prayer.
Whenever his heart would waver, he would come here and pray.
Later, he went to his bed and rested.
He closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Oh, what a life I lived, what a life I lived." A drop of tear fell from one of his eyes.
Later, his breathing stopped.
The king finally passed away after living for nearly 200 years.
----------------------------------------