“So let me get this straight.”
“You’re not only the empire’s Emperor’s Daughter now, but the one with actual power. In a few decades you’ll ascend the throne?”
“The Eternal Night Knights have been split up and assigned to the various princes and princesses to suppress rebellions and purge the nobility across the land.”
“And yet your rebel army… is still fighting?”
Simar rubbed the beard he had finally managed to grow, deep in thought as he summarized.
“Yep, that’s about it.”
“For the past two years, aside from cramming imperial history and etiquette every day, I’ve been helping the emperor handle state affairs—basically cramming governance lessons in advance.”
“The knights are fine; I hand-picked every single one of them.”
“But the rebel army…”
Just mentioning those idiots gave Ye Xu a splitting headache.
The “Eternal Night Rebel Army,” the main force he had personally built to overthrow imperial rule, absolutely refused to believe that their “Young Master” had been an imperial princess in disguise all along and had now returned to the royal family.
And the Eternal Night Knights who had gone out shouting they would rescue the Young Master, only to come back collectively swearing loyalty to the empire? The rebels branded them traitors without hesitation.
As a result, even now the rebel army was still igniting uprisings all across the empire.
Navila and the others naturally couldn’t bear to be ruthless against former comrades, and every imperial officer who knew the truth understood that these people were the Emperor’s Daughter’s personal troops—future imperial guards once she took the throne—so no one dared to really hit them hard or kill them.
Two years later, instead of shrinking, the rebel army’s influence had actually grown a little.
The only silver lining was that without the top-tier combat power of the Nine Eternal Night Knights, they hadn’t managed to cause any truly catastrophic damage.
But if, now that the war had largely settled, ordinary citizens who had finally returned to peaceful lives ended up hurt because of them, Ye Xu would only suffer more.
Which just goes to show—having too high a moral compass can sometimes be nothing but a burden.
He hadn’t chosen any of this, yet he still couldn’t understand:
His stubborn, thick-headed subordinates—their boss had already “defected.” He hadn’t contacted them in years. Why were they still holding out? Wouldn’t it be nicer to just come home and live in peace?
During his time trapped in the empire, he’d never had a chance to act.
Now that he had finally escaped, the first thing he did was find Simar so everything could be arranged moving forward.
As for the rebel army problem…
He would have to figure out a way to resolve it later, and as soon as possible.
“Alright, I’ve got the rough picture.”
“So for now, all I need to do is forge an identity for you. You can hide out here with me and decide what to do next when you’re ready.”
After listening for so long, Simar shook his head with a sigh.
But soon he frowned in confusion again.
“If you’re already the Emperor’s Daughter with real power—the undisputed next emperor…”
“Why run away at all?”
“Couldn’t you just wait calmly to ascend the throne and then reform the empire however you want?”
He had been wondering this ever since Ye Xu started explaining, and now he finally asked it outright, brow furrowed as he stared at him.
“That question…”
“…”
Simar’s words made Ye Xu freeze for a moment before a bitter smile appeared.
The details of how he became the Emperor’s Daughter could never be spoken—they concerned the great bloodline magic woven into the imperial bloodline, the very foundation that had kept the empire standing for ten thousand years.
If he dared breathe a single word, the Royal Crest on his forehead would awaken instantly.
As for the deeper reason…
Scenes from his life since transmigrating involuntarily flashed before his eyes.
That impoverished village, the honest and kind villagers.
Though he was a transmigrator, he had lived a full life in this world.
He had witnessed the empire exploit the common people, watched cruel nobles abuse their fellow humans.
From a very young age, he had sworn to lead those he loved—and who loved him—to overthrow imperial rule.
At seven, he had met Navila, the gentle daughter of a viscount despite her noble birth.
Navila had noticed the extraordinarily clever commoner boy and discovered his astonishing talent and potential, so she hired him as the librarian of her family’s collection.
In two short years, he absorbed every book in the viscount’s library like a sponge.
He had even convinced Navila’s father to obtain Magitech Knight research materials for him.
He had sacrificed so much for the sake of the rebellion.
One by one, the people who trusted and followed him had died.
He had believed his gifts and abilities were enough to fulfill everyone’s dreams, yet he could not stop them from leaving.
Every failed battle and subsequent retreat had led to bloody purges by imperial iron boots in the regions that supported the rebellion.
Was he now truly rejecting only the identity of “Emperor’s Daughter”?
Perhaps not.
He hated even more the blood now flowing in his veins.
He could not accept that the same blood which had slaughtered countless comrades was surging through his own body.
He did not know how to face the companions and commoners who had died fighting the empire—people who had once believed in him completely.
He knew he was being stubborn.
If he simply ascended the throne, he could still deliver the future he had promised to those who trusted him.
Even if it hadn’t been his choice, in these two years—with his and the Eternal Night Knights’ help—the empire’s changes were plain for all to see.
But…
Faith and ideals could never be brushed aside so easily.
Every time he slept, he saw the dead screaming at him.
And every time he dreamed, he returned to that dungeon—again and again having his spine cracked open.
Ice-cold alchemical agents accompanied by endless pain were cruelly injected into his body.
He could only watch in boundless rage as he slowly turned into someone he no longer recognized.
Yet under the thought-steel seal forged by the Royal Crest, he wasn’t even allowed to hate…
“…”
The room fell into a brief silence.
Ever since Simar had asked the question, Ye Xu had stayed quiet, but his expression said everything.
After all…
At the end of the day, the two of them were half mentor, half friend—practically brothers despite the years between them.
The last time they parted years ago, they had still called each other brother.
“Sigh, alright, alright, enough heavy stuff.”
“Since you’re on my turf now, just relax.”
“The Ross Kingdom may not dare boast about everything, but we’ve got whatever you could want.”
“The nobility is still the same old trash…”
“But because of the constant magical-beast threat, the royal family and the commoners are pretty united.”
“The folk customs are still fairly honest.”
Simar waved his hand with forced cheer, pulled several documents and identification papers from his breast pocket, and handed them to Ye Xu.
“I’ve prepared all your identity papers.”
“For the next few years, Your Highness the Great Young Master can just enjoy life here with us.”
The papers contained the identity Simar had forged for Ye Xu, along with kingdom-wide travel credentials bearing the crest of Earl House Nal.
He had set Ye Xu up as the illegitimate son his late father had sired while stranded in imperial territory, now finally found and brought home.
The forgery was meticulous—birth records, childhood history, even the story of how Simar had located him—all perfectly detailed.
Evidently, this was something Simar had been preparing ever since the day Ye Xu had first entrusted him with arranging his retirement after everything was over.
Looking at it all, a long-lost look of sentiment and relief appeared on Ye Xu’s face.
He tapped the gem at his neck, stored the documents safely away, then straightened and spoke seriously.
“We once called each other brothers and treated each other as true friends.”
“And this was, after all, the promise and commission we made years ago.”
“But since you’ve helped me this far, I can’t possibly offer nothing in return.”
Sentimental over the bond they had formed all those years ago by chance—one that now, when he had nowhere else to go, brought him a sliver of warmth.
Ye Xu leaned back against the sofa, lazily crossing his legs, completely unguarded before a friend he trusted.
Then, in his other hand, fragments of night-purple mana began to dance.
What appeared within was merely the tip of the iceberg of Ye Xu’s vast knowledge and wealth.
“Money, or help you seize power and profit,”
“Or… a custom Magitech Knight designed and built for you personally by me?”
“Pick one~”
Ye Xu looked at the stunned Simar, tone casual, but his eyes utterly serious.