The color.
The Kanter River flowed endlessly. Looking out from the carriage window, scattered villages dotted the vast green plains, their colors interwoven with patches of gold.
“Master, we’re almost there.” Cerys suddenly spoke.
“I understand, Cerys. Thank you for your hard work.”
El gazed at the distant outline of Kant Manor, lost in thought.
Second Prince Felis Reinhardt—what kind of person was he, really?
It was strange to think about. In the script, El was supposed to be a minor antagonist in the early stages, and Cielsa was just a brainless mid-level villain.
Yet Felis’s status was that of the male lead. No matter how the plot unfolded, he was always the most crucial figure.
But now, the story was in complete chaos. In the script, the battle for the throne was between the Crown Prince and the Second Prince; Cielsa wasn’t even considered a pawn.
The Crown Prince treated human lives as worthless, conducting all kinds of cruel experiments, and used despicable methods to exploit the commoners for profit.
In the script, if Vita chose the prince’s route, she would help Felis reveal the Crown Prince’s true nature, then she could choose the Queen ending—or not accept it.
The problem was, the Crown Prince’s arc had long since been cleared by Cielsa. As a result, Felis now stood against them, choosing to ally with the Demon Cult and side with evil.
It was truly baffling—El’s side had somehow become the righteous one.
El and Cielsa had discussed this before.
“Why would the Second Prince ally himself with the Demon Cult? He isn’t really a bad person, is he?”
El had figured this out from the script. During Felis’s reign, knights and nobles all praised his name. He really did bring the Leon Empire to unprecedented strength.
“Little El, you’re too naïve. How should I explain this to you…”
Cielsa thought for a moment and quoted a line from a hero in her previous life,
“The world is neither black nor white, but a delicate shade of gray. My brother is neither just nor evil—he is Felis, nothing more.”
“He is a proud man. After the Crown Prince’s death, he already saw the throne as his by right. Naturally, he wouldn’t allow me to interfere, no matter what.”
“Of course, he loves this country. But his desire for the throne surpasses everything—or rather, he simply can’t accept that despite being so far ahead, he still lost to me.”
The fundamental trait that defined Felis was “pride.” His pride would not allow his country to be weak, his people to be poor, or anyone to trample him underfoot.
In her previous life, Cielsa had liked Felis quite a bit. After all, the contrast of such a proud man being won over by the heroine was truly captivating.
But now, she wished more than anything for her brother to die.
It was all the old emperor’s fault, and his “Othman Succession Law.” With her performance, she should have been named heir long ago—Leon Empire wasn’t without precedent for queens.
If that were the case, if she was in a good mood, she might even have spared Felis’s life.
“But, that can’t be right. Wouldn’t cultists harm the empire? Why would someone as proud as him choose to ally with cultists?” El raised his question again.
“Think a little deeper… What exactly is the Empire?”
“The Empire… could it be…” El wasn’t stupid; he soon realized the answer.
“That’s right. The essence of the Empire is that it’s a violent institution for the privileged class—the nobles—to exploit the commoners. No matter how you try to disguise it, that’s what it is at its core.” Cielsa explained, offering El an understanding ahead of its time.
“The most terrifying thing about this country is the nobility. The Demon Cult isn’t just a simple terrorist group; there’s a clever manipulator behind it.”
“It’s precisely because they almost never target nobles—at most, they sacrifice commoners for blood rituals—that the cultists have been able to establish a foothold in the Empire. The ones who hunt them down are almost exclusively the church’s holy knights.”
“Their manipulator knows well: if they offend the nobility, the terrifying war machine of the Leon Empire would crush them in an instant.”
“So, do you understand now? In Felis’s eyes, the Demon Cult isn’t truly evil—they’re harmless to the Empire. Or rather, their conflict with Felis is only a secondary issue.”
Phew—after saying so much, Cielsa felt a little thirsty.
“How can that be… That’s just too cruel…” El couldn’t accept it. Why were those cultists, who sacrificed the living, being sheltered, even allowed to go unpunished?
“There’s no such thing as fairness in this world. But it’s fine, Little El, all you need to do is study well in your ivory tower.”
So pure, it’s almost adorable… El is an angel, Cielsa thought.
“So, as justice’s allies, of course we can’t let my brother have his way any longer. When I become emperor, I’ll drive every single cultist out of the Empire, not leaving a single one behind.”
“Master, we’re here.” Cerys’s voice pulled El back to reality.
El was the first to step out of the carriage, then took Aurelia’s hand and helped her out.
Kant Manor was vast, the farmhouses around it stretching as far as the eye could see, all laid out in perfect order.
The banquet was being held at the manor’s castle at the back, where the lights were bright and festivities had already begun.
At the entrance, many noble carriages were visible, but there were no guards—perhaps because none were needed.
“Master, be careful. I’ll be on watch outside, making sure no unsavory characters slip in.”
Naturally, only nobles could attend the banquet; attendants could only wait elsewhere on the manor grounds.
“I’ll be careful.”
With that, El took a deep breath. Aurelia took his arm, and together, they walked into the castle.
The hall was spacious, a crystal chandelier hanging high above, filling the venue with light. The Magic Record Player played elegant music.
Nobles mingled at the banquet—exchanging information, forging alliances, seeking benefits. There was something for everyone.
El saw many familiar faces: Garsen Marquis of the Western Territory was nodding in greeting to his niece Aurelia, the shrewd Laceo Earl waved at him—the Regis family had once suffered a loss at his hands.
And there were others…
“El, over here…” Karen called out. Since the banquet hadn’t formally begun, it didn’t seem out of place.
“You’re a bit late. The Second Prince is about to give his speech. You two…what’s this? Made up already?” He glanced at their linked arms, teasing them.
Aurelia’s cheeks reddened, but she didn’t refute him. Instead, she held El’s arm even tighter.
El didn’t want to ruin her mood, so he pretended not to hear Karen’s words.
Suddenly, the buzz of conversation in the hall grew quieter, until it was completely silent. The music abruptly stopped, and the lights seemed to converge on the stage at the banquet.
Felis Reinhardt, one of the Empire’s most distinguished figures, now stood on stage in formal attire. He held a Magic Loudspeaker, seemingly ready to speak.
Even before he opened his mouth, this young sovereign already radiated an undeniable majesty.
“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening.”
He began to speak, his voice slow and deliberate.