As the first rays of sunlight illuminated the imperial palace, Emperor Gerald, who had fainted from last night’s revelry, woke up as usual in the emperor’s bedchamber.
He stretched lazily, feeling the emptiness beside him.
There was no one waiting around, no trace of Emilia, not even a single message.
This left him in a foul mood, but someone had been waiting for him for quite some time—nobles, of course, who never visited the Three Treasures Hall without a purpose.
Not all nobles came, only their chosen representatives.
The imposing and tall Duke Magnus, likely hardened by his time on the battlefield, looked particularly fierce.
Hearing the emperor had awakened, he wasted no time with inquiries or pleasantries.
He stormed in directly, and the guards at the door didn’t even attempt to stop him, not a single move to block his path.
They simply let this unannounced noble barge in, a stark reminder of how utterly ineffective Gerald was as an emperor.
“Your Majesty, I have urgent matters to report. Please forgive my boldness, as this concerns the survival of the empire.”
The voice echoed in the emperor’s bedchamber, pulling Gerald back from his sorrowful and self-reproachful thoughts.
At first, anger surged within him—how dare someone barge in so rudely?
Had they never faced death?
But he quickly realized his precarious position and calmed down.
With a sigh, he suppressed his resentment, knowing he had to swallow his pride to survive.
When had he ever been so humiliated?
Without Emilia, these nobles were growing increasingly brazen.
“What is it, Duke Magnus? What’s the matter?”
He spoke, restraining his temper and striving to remain calm, knowing these so-called nobles never came without ulterior motives—likely bearing bad news, as usual.
He’d been deceived by them for so long…
Recalling the last time, it was the same routine—they’d pressured him to issue some decree.
Forced by circumstances and necessity, he had signed it, or the empire might have already fractured.
Reflecting now, the infamy fell on him, while the benefits went to the nobles.
The scene felt so familiar, much like how he had treated Emilia.
What goes around comes around, it seems.
“Very well, Your Majesty, I won’t waste words. Recently, neighboring countries have grown aggressive, seemingly planning to invade our empire. Disasters have been relentless, and food is scarce. Even so, the people and nobles have unwavering trust and reliance on you. Everyone is eager and duty-bound to enlist and fight off foreign enemies. The people and nobles request the reinstatement of the National Army. What do you think? If you approve, please sign the document, and we will proceed.”
The so-called National Army was a creation of Emilia’s era.
It centralized the scattered military forces, private soldiers, craftsmen, and war resources held by nobles and the church, placing them under unified management.
A conscription order was issued to expand the army, reorganize it, and implement a militarized management system.
The nobles and the church were allowed to retain only a small number of armed forces to prevent battlefield disarray, where factions fought independently, preserving their strength and delaying critical opportunities.
Back then, the empire’s army was essentially a collection of private forces controlled by nobles and the church.
Even the emperor before Gerald was merely a nominal ruler, little more than a slightly more powerful noble.
By consolidating the nobles’ and church’s forces and placing them under Gerald or Emilia’s control, the army became efficient and unified, striking wherever directed, with no interference from others.
Why would the nobles or the church agree to this when it offered them no benefits?
Were they foolish?
Well, not quite.
Those who opposed were either strung up on lampposts or left bewildered at the guillotine.
Some, if lucky, might have already been reborn in another world.
Why didn’t they resist or rebel?
Because Emilia would ruthlessly follow their family trees, wiping out their entire lineage without mercy, leaving nothing behind.
The remaining nobles naturally fell in line.
Unfortunately, after Emilia’s downfall, the National Army became a hollow shell.
Without her to keep them in check, the nobles and the church swiftly and voraciously divided it up, returning things to how they were before.
Years of hard work were undone in just one year.
“…”
Emperor Gerald took the document, glanced at it briefly, and frowned.
Closing it, he already guessed the nobles’ intentions.
As expected, these nobles never came with good intentions.
They likely wanted to use the National Army as a pretext to conscript cannon fodder and prepare for a potential war.
Even if the National Army was reestablished, it would be useless—lacking equipment, supplies, and logistics.
At best, the nobles might donate some unwanted gear and food, but even military pay would be a problem.
Would such an army have any combat capability?
How was this different from sending people to their deaths?
The nobles were clearly unwilling to send their own men, as their losses would come at their expense.
If their forces weakened too much, they’d become targets for other imperial nobles.
If war broke out and they surrendered without fighting, it might seem like a good way to preserve strength with minimal losses.
But that would mean ceding significant interests and territory to neighboring nobles.
Caught between fighting and not fighting, these imperial nobles hatched a scheme.
In war, it didn’t matter who fought, did it?
The National Army’s deaths wouldn’t affect them much—just a bunch of commoners.
Winning would be ideal, but even losing would at least deplete some of the enemy’s forces.
Even Gerald couldn’t sign the agreement outright.
He scratched his cheek irritably, not even reaching for the pen.
He knew signing was just a formality—the nobles could handle it privately without him.
They only wanted him as a scapegoat for their reputation. Sigh.
His fists clenched, eyes narrowing with murderous intent.
If Emilia were still here, would these nobles dare treat him this way?
Damn them, damn them, damn them!
He wanted to kill, but he knew killing wouldn’t solve everything, especially with his own burdens weighing on him…
“Your Majesty, please sign quickly.”
After deep contemplation and relentless urging from the nobles, he humiliatingly picked up the pen.
Shaking his head slightly, he decided to let the people suffer a bit more.
As long as he could hold out until Emilia’s return, everything would be fine.
Gritting his teeth, he signed the document and sighed.
With his last shred of defiance, he flung it at Magnus’s face.
“Get out!” he roared, summoning the last of his imperial dignity.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Unexpectedly, Magnus merely bowed respectfully, picked up the document, and smiled as if victorious, retreating gracefully.
As the bedchamber doors closed again, Gerald could only rage helplessly, smashing expensive items around him one by one to vent his frustration.
That is, until a long-awaited message came through the magical communication device.
“Your Majesty, it’s Ole. I’ve found a lead on Emilia, but things are a bit complicated.”
Bruh, the only thing he do all the time is brood and hope his genie comes back.
He’s such trash who can’t do anything on his own. It’s been a full year already