“Sigh.”
Sighing had become a daily ritual for this young emperor, silently leaning back in his chair, surrounded by no one he could rely on or trust.
As the roundtable meeting concluded, the members and onlookers dispersed one by one.
They set off to do whatever they could.
But no matter what they did, it was futile.
Saving the empire inevitably meant clashing with noble interests, and these women were either nobles themselves or tied to their interests—cutting off their own arm?
Impossible… and even if they managed it, it would only be the start.
It required the courage to burn bridges and the resolve to make enemies of nobles, landlords, and the church.
Who had that kind of courage or ability?
No one, except that silver-haired woman…
Moreover, the empire’s elites would never allow another Emilia to rise.
She alone had turned the empire upside down with her iron fist and loyal subordinates, weakening the influence and power of every class except the commoners in every way possible.
Even her own church wasn’t spared, constantly targeted.
Instead, she elevated the status of the commoners, abolished slavery, granted human rights, distributed land, and enacted strict laws to protect their interests.
She even promoted education, aiming to break the nobles’ millennia-long monopoly on magic and knowledge.
Sadly, time was too short.
Emilia had only built the framework of a new empire, unfinished, before this young emperor destroyed it all.
Thinking of this, Gerald couldn’t help but feel regret, especially after learning the empire’s current state.
A sense of powerlessness overwhelmed him.
Only when the meeting room was empty did he slowly rise, turning to face the mirror, clad in ornate imperial garments that felt like shackles, blinding him.
Power had eroded his heart, obscuring who he once was, turning him into the very thing he despised most.
Snapping back to reality, he realized that in this vast empire, the only person who was truly sincere, who tirelessly worked for the nation, was Emilia.
Memories flooded back—so beautiful yet now so fleeting, once within reach.
Now, only memories remained.
Reflecting deeply, it was he who had begged her to manage the nation, only to betray her in the end—what an idiot.
He had promised to trust her unconditionally.
Though he said nothing, a thousand words converged into longing and regret for Emilia, carried by the birds outside his window toward the chaotic border.
At this moment, the border was no different from the old empire.
In just eight years, the new empire had walked the thousand-year path of the old.
Meanwhile, the empire’s most celebrated silver-haired girl was with the former Demon King Hakimi, arriving at a border city they hadn’t visited in ages.
The guards were lazy and listless, lacking any presence.
They found every excuse to hassle and extort fees.
As the saying goes, when the upper beam is crooked, the lower beams follow suit—a clear picture of the border’s state.
Even at the city gate, propaganda posters from the old empire listed the seven sins of Demon King Hakimi.
“What the—did I do all those terrible things? How come I didn’t know?”
A bewildered Sieg leaned in to inspect the poster closely, finding it absurd no matter how many times he looked.
Every bit of dirt was thrown at him.
Wait a second—oh no, he’d become the scapegoat saint!
The local nobles seemed a bit too rude.
Once his Demon King Castle was up and running, he’d have to pay them back.
Silently draping his burly arm over the silver-haired girl’s delicate shoulder, he leaned close to her ear, whispering softly.
Looking at Emilia’s exquisite profile, her expression shifted from subtle to complex, as if she had something to say.
“What’s up? If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Don’t make me prompt you every time.”
Clearly, this wasn’t the first time, and he was getting a bit impatient.
“Got it. Aren’t you here to buy slaves? Why come to the empire… I don’t understand, Sieg.”
Pursing her lips and nodding slightly, she voiced her doubts only after his prodding, hesitant to speak first since it might lower her favorability.
Even this seemingly intimate gesture was met with his constant vigilance. Any extra move, and she might die on the spot.
So she stayed silent, motionless, going along with his actions.
Her quiet glance at his negative favorability was the best proof.
“Because slaves are cheap in the empire, and there’s been a lot of them lately. Three thousand gold coins seem like a lot, but they go fast. Save where you can. Thanks to your little boyfriend’s back-to-basics strategy, it’s a boon for nobles and the church, but not for the people. Looks like they’re planning to squeeze the masses even more.”
Seizing the chance to jab at the girl, Sieg didn’t miss a beat, then casually pulled away, stumbling a few steps before stretching and glancing back, signaling her to follow.
She said nothing more, just nodded.
The empire had abolished slavery—how could there still be slaves?
Soon, with a snap.
It took little effort to enter the border city.
Sieg felt right at home; the guards even greeted him, not bothering to check papers or luggage—let alone the people—since they’d been bribed, so their attitude was naturally friendly.
At the empire’s border, plastered with Emilia’s search and exile notices, the gate let the very person in question pass without a hitch, the guards utterly useless.
Returning to the empire after a year, having lived in a small house outside the border with her companion, eating and working together, occasionally joining him on missions.
Looking around, Emilia felt a pang of nostalgia—it was still the same.
In her white dress, with sand blowing past and her waist-length silver hair tied up, her blood-red eyes lowered, revealing a trace of emotion—sorrow or reminiscence, she wasn’t sure.
Back then, she was beaten and cursed out of the empire by the masses.
Now she was back…
Biting her lip lightly, she still felt lingering fear.
For once, she spoke up voluntarily to the enthusiastic Sieg, hoping to avoid causing him unnecessary trouble.
“Maybe I should cover my face. It’d be bad if someone recognized me.”
“Cover your face? No need. It’s not like we’re doing anything shameful. So what if they recognize you? Doesn’t that suit your little plan to return to the empire?”
Clearly, Sieg didn’t care, shrugging with his usual carefree attitude, his words still sharp.
His attention was soon drawn to the nearby slave market.
Batch after batch of slaves, shackled in unison, were led by merchants to an open platform, displayed before a crowd of buyers.
Below, merchants, landlords, and nobles called out bids high above, as if buying objects, not people.
One slave, defiant, shouted out.
“I’m a person, not your property! If Lady Emilia were still here, you lot wouldn’t dare act so arrogant…”
Before he could finish, a slave merchant’s whip struck him down, followed by more lashes, the sound of flesh tearing, yet no one stopped it.
“Hahaha, how amusing. I remember you—weren’t you the one rallying everyone to support the emperor and drive Emilia out? You even went to the capital for it. Looks like you played a part in her exile!”
After beating the defiant slave half to death, the panting merchant raised his whip, shouting to the surrounding slaves.
“You idiots, brainless, swayed by a few words from nobles and the church, bringing this on yourselves. So remember, your current plight is your own doing.”
Ya know, french revolution would have been a great option when the authorities arrested their saintess. The upper class might’ve the quality, but for the masses quantity is also a quality of its own.