Charlie Durand stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the center of the study.
His palace study, rather than feeling like a part of the royal residence, resembled more a frontline command post.
A heavy oak desk was cluttered with military maps and border reports, beside which rested an exquisite two-handed greatsword.
On the walls hung large-scale maps of the borderlands, marked with colored pins indicating fortresses, garrisons, and the movements of Imperial troops detected by scouts.
Sunlight filtered through the window lattice, casting a long shadow at Charlie’s feet, splitting his tall figure at the boundary between light and darkness.
His icy blue eyes, inherited from the royal bloodline, now gazed through the glass at the bright sky beyond.
Chief spy Reynault de Marco stood silently a few steps behind the Crown Prince, barely daring to breathe.
He had already reported in detail on the encounter with the Laval family and Allen de Laval’s almost confrontational statements.
The silence stretched on for a long while, so long that Reynault nearly thought the Prince’s mind had drifted far away.
“The things he said,” Charlie finally spoke, his voice calm, betraying no emotion, “have you investigated them?”
“Your Highness, most of it is true,” Reynault responded immediately.
Then he paused, his tone cautious, “As for the divine revelations…that’s Church business. It involves the Inquisition. We dare not pry too deeply for fear of alerting them.”
“Hmph, the Church…”
Charlie scoffed softly, turning around as his icy gaze swept over a corner of the desk.
There lay a heavy tome with a gilded cover—the Scripture.
It was a gift from his father, King Louis XI, on his eighth birthday.
Ironically, it was from that day that the father and son began drifting apart.
Charlie approached the desk, his fingers unconsciously tracing the cold cover of the Scripture.
“My father always put on a show of intimacy with the Church before others, as if he were still a devout monk,” he murmured, a self-mocking curve appearing at the corner of his lips.
“But in truth, he severed ties with the Church long ago. Everyone thinks he has withdrawn behind the scenes, that power now lies with me and Charlotte. But that’s not the case.”
A rare trace of confusion flickered in his icy eyes.
“Reynault,” Charlie looked at his trusted aide, “your family, the de Marco, have served the court for generations. Before working for me, you must have heard stories from your elders about my father’s youth?”
Reynault carefully chose his words.
“His Majesty was diligent and visionary in his youth, appointing capable ministers. He was a wise king. But…the disasters and calamities of the world made all his efforts fragile. Your Highness, if I may be frank, even if you ascend the throne, you will likely face similar setbacks. Human willpower alone can hardly change Heaven’s judgment.”
“I am not like him,” Charlie shook his head firmly.
“He wasn’t defeated by setbacks. He was crushed by hatred.”
“Hatred?”
Reynault’s face showed surprise.
“Your Highness, what makes you say that?”
Charlie didn’t answer directly. Instead, he casually drew the two-handed greatsword leaning against the desk.
The heavy blade slid from its sheath with a crisp humming sound.
He stared at the polished mirror-like blade, his cold face reflected on its surface.
“Reynault, do you know when the Emblems first appeared?” he suddenly asked.
Reynault was taken aback.
“Your servant’s knowledge is limited. I only know that the power of Emblems has existed since ancient times, symbolizing noble bloodlines.”
“My father asked me the same question once,” Charlie’s voice carried a hint of nostalgia.
“At that time, I couldn’t answer either.”
He flicked his wrist slightly, the blade’s reflection dancing across the study.
“He told me that when our Durand ancestors led survivors from the apocalypse to establish the Kingdom of Lorraine on the wasteland, there were no Emblems. Back then, there were not even nobles.”
Reynault held his breath, listening closely to what seemed like a secret tale.
“But later,” Charlie continued, his voice deepening, “as the survivors founded more and more states, conflict and war followed. Amidst the bloodshed, the Emblems were born.”
“The first Crestbearers, with power beyond mortal limits, changed the rules of warfare and won victory after victory for their countries. Eventually, the first hereditary nobles emerged.”
He slowly sheathed the sword with steady, forceful motions.
“Emblems brought great power, enabling humanity to rebuild civilization from the ruins. But, Reynault,” Charlie turned, his gaze profound as he looked at his head spy, “without Emblems, this world wouldn’t have become such a twilight realm.”
“My father hated the Emblems. Along with that, he hated all the nobles who relied on Emblem power to maintain their status. Even my sister and I, we are probably included in his hatred.”
Silence fell heavily over the study.
The King hated the nobles?
Including his own son and daughter?
Charlie’s words sounded almost revolutionary, yet Reynault somehow understood.
The nobles privately called Louis XI the “Mad King.”
The King’s antagonistic relationship with the nobility was clear from that alone.
After a moment of silence, Reynault cautiously spoke, “Your Highness, His Majesty spent his youth in a monastery and was deeply influenced by Church doctrine. The Church has always had reservations about the noble and Emblem systems. Perhaps His Majesty’s radical ideas stem from that?”
“Even the Church isn’t united on this matter.”
Charlie sneered, walking to the desk and opening a drawer to retrieve a letter, which he handed to Reynault.
“Look at this.”
Reynault took the letter with both hands and unfolded it.
After only a brief glance, his complexion instantly turned pale, cold sweat soaking his back.
“…”
“An olive branch from the Empire Church,” Charlie’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“They want to strike a secret deal with me. Do you know what that means?”
Reynault swallowed hard and cautiously said, “It means Your Highness has gained a powerful ally?”
“Hmph!”
Charlie gave a contemptuous snort.
“It means those arrogant Imperials think I’m a fool who can be bought!”
“Do they really believe the Kingdom of Lorraine has fractured to the brink of collapse? Do they think I am an ambitious traitor willing to sell out the nation to usurp my father’s power?”
He returned to the window and cast his gaze toward the Empire, his voice resolute: “My father is a true king. He knows who the real enemy is. Do you know when the last Great Council was held by the Church? It was centuries ago! Back then, the Kingdom Church and the Empire Church fought bitterly over whether to recognize the sanctity of the Emblems, ending in acrimony and never meeting again!”
Charlie turned sharply, his eyes piercing Reynault like a hawk’s.
“Today, the Church is a hollow shell, split in two. Our conflict with the Empire isn’t just about land and wealth—it’s a division of faith and ideology!”
“The Empire Church trying to court me only proves one thing—their internal conflicts have piled up beyond repair! They desperately need an external war to divert attention and expend their pent-up fury!”
As the Crown Prince controlling the Kingdom’s military power, Charlie understood the threat of the Empire better than anyone.
The Kingdom of Lorraine was once the first stronghold on the continent to implement absolute monarchy.
Its rise forced the surrounding minor states to band together, eventually forming the vast and loosely unified Empire.
Over centuries, the Empire consolidated into seven major Electors.
It boasted far greater population and territory than Lorraine, but was hindered by internal strife from expanding westward.
Yet Charlie knew this balance was fragile.
The Empire’s Thirty Years’ Interregnum was nearing its end.
A candidate named Sigismund had emerged.
Charlie had met him—a terrifying opponent, ambitious and gifted in both politics and warfare.
Sooner or later, a brutal war between the Kingdom and this future Emperor was inevitable.
His father had entrusted military authority to him, hoping he could protect the people of the Kingdom.
“People think,” Charlie’s voice held exhaustion and self-mockery, “that when I ascend, I’ll be a cruel tyrant like my uncle. Of course, I know that ruthlessly suppressing desperate peasants is outright tyranny! But, Reynault, what else can I do? Should I be like my naive sister Charlotte, hoping those damned Noble Swordsmen will have a change of heart and voluntarily hand over their wealth to aid the starving?”
His tone grew fierce.
“She doesn’t understand! The Kingdom’s survival depends on those Emblem-wielding ‘Noble Swordsmen’! They are our sword and shield! But at the same time, they are the greatest force pushing the Kingdom toward ruin! I have to rely on them and suppress them simultaneously. My father wouldn’t do it, my sister can’t do it—so it falls to me!”
His gaze blazed fiercely at Reynault.
“Tell me, Reynault! Without the Emblems, what do we have to resist the Empire’s iron boots? The peasants I’ve killed are a tiny fraction of the Kingdom’s population. But if the Empire defeats us, the entire Kingdom will become slaves!”
“The rulers of the Empire are far more brutal than us! Most commoners there probably don’t even know what white bread tastes like. The Empire treats them like expendable resources, tossing them endlessly into the war meat grinder!”
“Do you think my people want to live in such a country? For the sake of the many, I choose that a few must die. Am I wrong? Can I save them? Can I stop the calamities?!”
Charlie took a deep breath, struggling to steady his rising emotion.
He returned to the desk and picked up an original Taxation Privilege Decree, eyes lingering on Viscount Bernard de Laval’s name, sighing deeply.
“Because I forced Viscount Bernard de Laval to become a Tax Farmer, my sister and her ‘Robe Nobles’ accuse me of violating private property, profiteering, and extortion.”
He lifted his head, icy blue eyes meeting Reynault’s with a commanding presence.
“Reynault, am I truly the villain?”
Reynault looked at the Crown Prince bearing the weight of half a kingdom and felt a complex mix of emotions.