The Second Training Ground of the Imperial Guard
The silver armor of knights glistened radiantly under the sunlight, and the cloaks of wizards and flags fluttered in the breeze.
“His Highness, the Second Prince, arrives!”
At the herald’s cry, all eyes turned in unison. From the opposite side of the training ground, Descartes appeared, his crimson cloak adorned with a golden sun emblem draped over his shoulders.
Descartes walked slowly between the knights and wizards, ascending the platform. Once there, he brought his mouth close to the magical amplification device.
“Greetings, members of the Imperial Guard. From today, I, Descartes Rogino, will serve as the commander of the Second Division of the Imperial Guard, the blade that protects our empire.”
His amplified voice echoed across the training ground. Clear and firm, it was enough to capture everyone’s attention.
“To speak plainly, I may lack the ability to perform the duties of commander. I have barely managed to reach the level of a second-class knight, and I cannot wield a Mana Blade.”
Descartes paused, gauging the reactions of the knights. The weight of his honesty filled the training ground.
“I am more of a scholar than a warrior. I have always preferred wielding a pen to swinging a sword, and I favored studying knowledge over honing combat skills.”
Not all royalty excelled in every area. Each had their own strengths and preferences, and Descartes was no exception.
“As a warrior, I am insufficient. I have never swung a sword on the battlefield, nor have I ventured into the depths of demonic realms.”
He raised his head, meeting the gaze of the guards watching him.
“However, there is one thing I can promise: I will not shy away from responsibility or difficult decisions. I will listen to your voices and strive to become the sharp blade that defends our empire.”
Raising his hand slowly, Descartes concluded his speech.
“If there is anything needed for an operation, do not hesitate to speak. I will bring it to the table. If you have any opinions, do not hold back. I will listen. That is all.”
As he stepped down from the platform, murmurs spread across the training ground.
“Will this really work out…?”
“Hmm.”
“It looks like trouble ahead.”
“With the demon realm reconnaissance coming up, what are we supposed to do…?”
Such reactions were expected. After all, the new commander had opened his first address by openly admitting his shortcomings.
“Still, he seems determined.”
“That kind of attitude might actually be better.”
“Maybe he’s trustworthy after all…?”
Yet, some nodded at his sincere demeanor. Yohan was among those who did not see him in a bad light.
‘At least we know he’s straightforward.’
Admitting one’s lack of ability required great courage, especially for someone as proud as a member of the royal family. Despite that, his candid words and request for support revealed a sense of authenticity rather than recklessness.
‘And, as a scholar, he’s not bad.’
Yohan had heard about the remote region Descartes had governed from Rudella. Though barren and challenging to live in, the place had started showing signs of hope after his arrival.
He may not know how to wield a sword, but he knew how to take responsibility. And that, Yohan thought, was the most essential quality for someone who might one day ascend the throne.
‘Not bad.’
Yohan smiled faintly.
Descartes was far better than the crown prince, who was perfect yet sociopathic.
In fact, the empire’s future might even shine brighter with him at the helm.
‘Well, that remains to be seen…’
Truthfully, as long as the next heir to the throne wasn’t Fedelian, Yohan didn’t care who it was.
* * *
Just before leaving work, Yohan received a summons from Descartes and opened the door to the commander’s office.
‘Huh?’
Yohan tilted his head slightly in curiosity. The atmosphere in the office had changed. The soft light of the setting sun poured in through the window, casting a warm glow on the neatly arranged papers and letters atop the desk.
“An honor to meet the famed Master Wizard Lahart. I’ve heard much about you,” Descartes said, grinning warmly as he approached.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander.”
“Haha, no need to be so formal.”
When Yohan greeted him with the court’s refined manners, Descartes waved a hand dismissively and gestured toward the central sofa.
“Please, have a seat.”
“Yes, sir.”
The two of them sat on the sofa in the middle of the room.
“I called you here to talk, but I must apologize for the lack of preparation. I’ve only just taken office, after all.”
“There’s no need, sir. This is more than enough for a discussion. We’re not noble ladies enjoying a tea party, after all.”
“Hmm, you’re quite right about that,” Descartes replied with a small chuckle, nodding slowly.
In truth, it didn’t feel unprepared at all. The delicate fragrance rising from the tea cups and the quaint, slightly rustic cookies on the table gave the meeting a pleasant touch. It was perfectly adequate.
“So, what would you like to discuss?” Yohan asked, raising his cup.
“It’s nothing grand. I simply wanted to ask for your cooperation going forward and take the opportunity to speak with the renowned Master Wizard. That alone is an honor, isn’t it? Haha.”
Descartes laughed lightly.
“I see,” Yohan replied curtly, giving a nod. He was certain there was more to it.
“….”
Descartes, perceptive enough to sense Yohan’s skepticism, soon shifted to the main point.
“Well, beating around the bush isn’t my style, and I doubt you enjoy it either. I’ll be direct.”
Leaning forward, he stiffened his expression. His golden eyes darkened with seriousness.
“This conversation isn’t between a commander and a master wizard. It’s between the Second Prince and Count Lahart. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Yohan closed his eyes and tipped his tea cup, letting the soft aroma linger at the tip of his nose.
“With the crown prince’s position vacant, the battle for the throne has reignited. While it seems like the other royals lack ambition, it’s not something I can afford to ignore.”
With Fedelian dethroned and branded a traitor, there were no royals who posed a real threat to Descartes.
The closest contender, Laryana, was uninterested in the throne. Her head was often in the clouds, making her the least of his worries.
It’s unlikely that Yohan’s situation would suddenly take a dramatic turn reminiscent of a morning drama, like “It was all an act!” or “That’s right! Laryana has been waiting for this moment!”
Of course, one can never be too cautious. After all, there’s always the possibility of a royal faction emerging, backed by the displaced nobles left adrift after Fedelian’s disappearance.
“So, are you asking me to support Prince Descartes?”
“Yes. Starting with your support, I can establish a strong foundation. Nothing could be more stable.”
Descartes nodded firmly, his expression hardening.
“However, I have no intention of recklessly asking for your support. Deciding a political stance could put you in a difficult position. For now, I would like you to observe my actions. The decision afterward will rest entirely on your judgment.”
In a reopened battle for the throne, declaring support for a specific royal was a heavy burden to bear. Regardless of the relationship, the aristocratic society was divided into various factions.
Moreover, Yohan was not just any noble but Count Rahart, one of the most powerful figures at the moment, and the future son-in-law of the Duke of Ferbache, a high-ranking noble family.
If he chose to support someone, it would be an extraordinary boon, but it wasn’t an easy task to achieve. Descartes was well aware of this and didn’t entertain the idea of boldly asking for support from the outset. He didn’t expect it to be feasible in the first place.
“If the time comes and you still don’t want to support me, I’ll accept it and let it go. It would simply mean I’m not good enough.”
Thus, the approach he chose was to demonstrate his potential and leadership to persuade Yohan to voluntarily support him.
“That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Hmm…”
Yohan furrowed his brows, stroking his chin. A low hum escaped his lips.
‘He’s got the right idea. And while he’s a bit prickly, his nature doesn’t seem bad.’
While he didn’t know Descartes very well, the information he’d gathered so far suggested he wasn’t a bad person.
‘I also liked today’s inauguration… But there’s no need to rush into supporting him.’
His thoughts grew heavier.
‘Still, the Empire I’ll live in with my partners needs a good ruler.’
Before making a decision, Yohan ran through the possible scenarios in his head. A shadow darkened his expression.
“…”
As his lips refused to part, Descartes’s leg began to tremble slightly—a sign of nervousness.
“Well.”
Finally, Yohan opened his mouth.
“Alright. I’ll think about it positively.”
“…Thank you.”
Descartes let out a small sigh of relief. Yohan’s support was indispensable; after all, the man who could seal the abyss was the key to the Empire’s future.
Descartes was determined to maintain a good relationship with Yohan Rahart at all costs. The current royal family also needed Yohan as a bridge for interaction.
Crunch.
Yohan blinked as he took a bite of the cookie.
“By the way, what’s with these cookies? They’re quite different from the ones sold in stores.”
The taste was as unpolished as its appearance. Not bad, but more of a heartfelt, labor-of-love flavor.
“Ah, those?”
Descartes smiled faintly as he looked at the cookies.
“There’s an orphanage in the remote area I was stationed in. The children there baked them with great effort. When they heard I was heading to the capital, they gave me a bag full of cookies to thank me.”
Yohan’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. If the children at the orphanage were baking cookies for him, it was clear that Descartes’s involvement went far beyond mere financial support.
“They’re good, aren’t they?”
“It’s hard to believe children made these.”
Yohan’s assessment of Descartes Rogino rose in real time. Perhaps he was quite an admirable person after all.
“But where is the Ferbache Archmage? I had hoped to speak with her alongside you, but she’s been nowhere to be seen since lunchtime.”
“The Ferbache Archmage went on an external mission. Unfortunately, I wasn’t given any details, so I’m not sure where she’s gone.”
Yohan had no idea where she had gone, either. She hadn’t shared any specifics, even when he asked.
“…I see. Even Deputy Commander Rickard didn’t seem to know anything when I asked.”
“…..”
Silently, Yohan popped another cookie into his mouth.
‘Where could Francia have gone?’
* * *
The Rogino Empire, located at the center of the continent, boasted a territory larger than any other nation. The continent’s most significant point of origin also lay within its borders.
When asked about the continent’s origin point, most people would respond with indifference, saying, “What’s so important about that?” However, a significant secret was hidden there.
The celestial mage who ushered in the Age of Magic had constructed a library at the continent’s origin to store their spells and artifacts.
“Hm.”
Francia, who had entered the underground ruins, extended her hand and summoned her magic. A simple illumination spell. A soft white light appeared, brightening the path ahead.
Step.
Francia walked through the celestial mage’s library.
The ash-gray stone floor, paved with slabs, felt cold and damp regardless of the actual temperature.
Step.
Dust lay in thick layers, but she did not cough. A cloth soaked in holy water covered her mouth and nose, protecting her from inhaling the debris.
Step.
Passing by towering bookshelves like fortress walls and tables laid out like rippling waves, Francia came to a halt in front of an arched door.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
She grasped the door’s handle and knocked in a steady rhythm.
Rumble!
The door vibrated, splitting open as dust rained down from the ceiling.
Shaking her hair free of the dirt, Francia stepped inside. The room was filled with faded artifacts, relics of a time long past.
She moved through the space, inspecting each dusty artifact with meticulous care.
Then.
“Found it.”
Francia’s lips parted slightly, trembling with emotion.
Gladius Luminis.
The blade, faintly shimmering with golden light, seemed to call for her vengeance, its brilliance reflected in her crimson eyes.
“Fufu.”
She chuckled softly, her thin, delicate hand gripping the hilt of the sword.
With this weapon, she would eliminate the two men who had tormented her endlessly before her regression.
For the sole purpose of being with Yohan forever.