The Eagle-Talon Crown Gem had reached its limit.

Watching Kantesius—hemmed in at the center by her knights, driven back again and again yet wholly unscathed—Isatia’s gaze tightened.

A female knight stepped up to support her; only then did Isatia realize that, without noticing it, her body had begun to lean.

Her exhaustion could no longer be hidden.

Isatia had used the imperial gem to forcibly construct the Marsmo Royal Palace, but because her understanding was still scant—“over half” comprehension still fell short of allowing her to fully construct the Marsmo civilization—and because she knew too little about the palace that served as the core building, the palace she had constructed was incomplete, with many parts left blank, sustained only by overdrawing her own Sea of Mind.

Now her Sea of Mind was about to burn dry, and this Marsmo palace she had hastily constructed would collapse in an instant like a tower over the sea.

And when the Sea of Mind burned dry, a chain reaction would follow: the Tyrelis Fixed-City Clock Tower, which had stood for a thousand years as the central hub of the [Perennial Imperial Diadem], would, in her generation—in the generation where the inheritance had reached her—collapse completely.

Nothing can withstand the erasure of time and years. However magnificent the deeds, however mighty the empire, however flourishing the house, all alike are ultimately eliminated by time.

Even the Carillian Family, who held a [Saint’s Favor] governing time, would one day be eliminated by time. They would be no exception.

House Lanteville had realized this long ago—since her forebears they had known that although their house’s [Saint’s Favor], once invoked, had never known defeat, it possessed a colossal flaw; mishandled, the future House Lanteville might, like the Carillian Family, see its line severed, its clan extinguished overnight with no survivors.

Thus the prime question of House Lanteville became how to ensure the house’s future could be passed on forever.

After all, the instinct of living things is to reproduce. Only if you can continue to reproduce do you have the right to discuss prosperity and decline. Otherwise, if the direct line is wiped out, then House Lanteville will end up like the Carillian Family—with not even a direct heir to carry the house’s [Saint’s Favor].

Across the long years, House Lanteville discovered that trying to solve their [Saint’s Favor] problem by external force was just as impossible as those enemies whom they dragged into the [Saint’s Favor] trying to flee it by their own power.

The stronger a sage-house’s [Saint’s Favor], the more troublesome and intractable the backlash it brings.

Yet over a thousand years, as a great and renowned house, they had not discovered nothing.

For example, they found that marrying into other sage-houses—though the chance of issue would be exceedingly low—could alleviate the corrosion suffered by the buildings within their [Saint’s Favor], and could even reverse that corrosion.

Thus, as a ducal house of the old Tyrelis Empire, House Lanteville spared no expense to take as consort the second daughter of the Carillian Family, the Second Princess of the Tyrelis Empire.

That act greatly eased their house’s [Saint’s Favor]. The corrosion level of the next generation of buildings even reversed, and a central clock tower that could slow the corrosion of all buildings arose in the city’s core. This led House Lanteville at the time to believe they had found a path for the house’s continuation.

But generally speaking, sage-houses have few offspring; there are not even enough heirs, much less daughters to marry out.

Thus House Lanteville fell into another dilemma. Since most sage-houses were royal, it was highly unlikely they would send off their precious heirs for the sake of Lanteville’s power.

They couldn’t very well launch wars—bleed the people and drain the treasury—to seize other houses’ heirs, could they?

Later, House Lanteville found a less effective—but still useful—method: by means of conquest and understanding, forge more architectures of other races within the [Perennial Imperial Diadem]. These foreign architectures could also share the corrosion and enhance the corrosion-resistance of the central clock tower.

Of course, the effect was far inferior to intermarriage with sage-houses, but it was a method born of necessity—better than doing nothing.

House Lanteville’s approach, when subduing a nation or power, was to conquer while also coming to understand.

Thus, when a country was brought under heel, the head of House Lanteville had also gained sufficient understanding of that power’s culture. They knew precisely how to take the measure of those peoples’ temperaments—first respecting their customs and culture, treating them as their own, then, step by step, leading them to identify with the Empire while preserving their ethnic cultures.

This was House Lanteville’s strategy.

As for waging war, they abided by the Tyrel Empire’s stance toward non-human peoples, granting them better lives and more convenient conditions—equal treatment for all.

Moreover, aside from garrisons and major decisions and administration in certain affairs, House Lanteville did not directly micromanage the peoples under their banner. They required only that those peoples acknowledge themselves as citizens of the Empire.

But no matter the stratagems, no matter how ancient House Lanteville’s history, the cheats their house had enjoyed through the years were not without a price.

Now the “creditor” had come to call—upon Isatia’s generation.

To continue the bloodline, the Tyrel Emperor racked his brains and finally saw a glimmer of dawn: an engagement invitation sent from the Saintess of the Dawn Church.

The Tyrel Emperor of the time was overjoyed—almost carried away by delight.

The degree to which intermarriage with sage-houses could delay or reverse corrosion varied. Though all were sage-houses, there were differences among them.

Marriage with famed, major sage-houses like the Carillian Family and the Facilis Family would obviously have an effect completely unlike marriage with an ordinary sage-house.

If this marriage succeeded, then for several centuries House Lanteville would not need to worry about the collapse of the [Saint’s Favor].

Of course, the Tyrel Emperor was no fool. Marriage with the Saintess’s house was something they didn’t even dare think about on ordinary days. Even setting aside whether the Saintess would agree, the Dawn Church would be the first to refuse. The invitation might not even reach the Saintess’s hands before some bishop along the way angrily returned it, calling it disrespect to the Saintess, the Church, and the Goddess.

That was a burden even House Lanteville, as the imperial family of the Tyrel Empire, could not shoulder.

Now a marriage he had longed for and could not attain had been delivered to his desk—proposed by the other side, no less. How could there not be hidden circumstances?

The Tyrel Emperor certainly knew, and Saintess Sophia of the time did not hide them. After much thought, the Tyrel Emperor still agreed—perhaps with the mentality of treating a dead horse as a living one.

He also promised Sophia that he would look after the descendants of the Facilis Family in the future, and many of his actions followed through on that promise.

But by the next generation’s next generation—the Emperor’s grandson—his attitude changed in an instant.

He felt his grandfather was joking with the house—and with his own daughter.

After Isatia was born and could freely control the [Saint’s Favor], a precise probe into her [Perennial Imperial Diadem] made him realize that House Lanteville stood on the brink of life and death.

Corrosion of the central clock tower had grown to an unsalvageable degree. If nothing was done, House Lanteville would end with Isatia’s generation.

No—most likely they wouldn’t even make it through Isatia’s generation.

Thinking of how his brilliant eldest daughter—destined to be extraordinary—was fated to become a living dead in a senseless calamity, the Tyrel Emperor could only lament Heaven’s envy of talent; he could not accept it.

Whether from the long-term plan for House Lanteville or from a father’s standpoint, the Tyrel Emperor could not accept this. He fought with his life to alleviate his daughter’s condition.

At the very least, let his daughter live out a healthy life.

He did not wish his daughter to become a political sacrifice; yet for Isatia’s happiness and health, his eyes did drift toward the already-declined descendants of the Facilis Family. Coincidence or not, the current descendant of the Facilis line happened to be a boy.

What if? What if the two fell in love at first sight? They had to at least meet, didn’t they?

Of course, this was premised on mutual affection.

However, the Tyrel Emperor knew very little about the Facilis Family then in the Kingdom of Camella, but the rumors about Vinny drifted into his court from time to time, souring his impression of Vinny further.

He already disapproved of the marriage his grandfather had set and chose to ignore it, adopting a wait-and-see stance.

He probed for news of the Facilis Family. Reports from the Kingdom of Camella were all negative—about Vinny.

Basking in ancestral afterglow to bully men and women; swaggering about the royal capital of Camella every day; harassing Princess Mirexia; bluster outside, cowardice within; bullying the weak, fearing the strong—there were even rumors he liked men?!

This brat didn’t pick at all? He wouldn’t spare men or women?

With character like this and such an unbridled private life, how could the Tyrel Emperor possibly entrust his daughter to a dissolute wastrel who learned nothing and committed every vice?

How could his daughter ever like such a person?

There were even rumors that he was a fraud, that his identity was assumed—that he wasn’t a blood descendant of the Facilis line at all, that the true line had died out long ago.

As things stood, the rumor seemed quite plausible. After all, looks don’t lie; Vinny bore not the slightest resemblance to the Saintesses of past generations, nor had he inherited their compassion.

A counterfeit was highly likely.

If the “goods” weren’t even genuine, what “breach of contract” was there to speak of?

The marriage had been agreed with the Facilis Family; the brat couldn’t even prove he was a direct descendant.

Therefore, whether for the house’s continuation or his daughter’s lifelong happiness, the Tyrel Emperor could not agree to the match. Yet he couldn’t refuse outright, either, so he chose to ignore it.

Perhaps that was utilitarian, but he had to do it.

House Lanteville stood at the edge of life and death. There was no time to delay. For his daughter and for the house’s continuation, they had to find a sage-house that could allow House Lanteville to continue—or else he would have to watch his daughter and House Lanteville perish.

History would record House Lanteville’s fall in his hands.

So, would House Lanteville ultimately walk to its doom? Would it end in her generation?

Isatia did not know.

Supported by the female knight, countless thoughts coursed through her mind—scenes of the past, the words her father had once said to her.

“The engagement is nothing you need worry about. Your father will settle it, my child. You need only live the life you wish to live, love whom you wish to love, and pass a happy lifetime.”

She had known about the family matters long ago.

With Isatia’s intelligence, once it happened to her, how could it possibly be kept from her?

“Let the Imperial Diadem manifest and slay every invading foe.”

The [Perennial Imperial Diadem] had always been their House Lanteville’s guardian god—yet now that guardian god was about to fall, crashing down upon their heads.

This drafty, four-winds-leaking Marsmo Royal Palace was going to collapse—taking with it the central tower that had stood for a thousand years.

Barring surprises, when the clock tower fell, the aftershock would turn the entire [Perennial Imperial Diadem] into ruins.

The beloved? The betrothal?

Isatia shook her head.

Vinny was not someone who could stand beside her, but someone who ought to stand behind her and receive her protection.

Even at death’s door, she would fulfill her final duty.

“Form ranks,” Isatia ordered, gritting through the pain as if her brain were being torn and seared by a red-hot brand.

“Everyone, heed my final command.”

At her words, all the knights withdrew in unison to stand before Isatia, silent.

“Form the Tyrel battle array—strike with all might and crush the foe!”

At Isatia’s command, all imperial knights—cavalry coordinating with infantry and mages—formed an irresistible battle formation and charged at Kantesius alone.

“Ha—hahaha!” The [Perennial Imperial Diadem]’s domain power pinned Kantesius where he stood, preventing any movement. Even so, he laughed aloud—until the formation thundered over him with momentum to grind him to powder.

From Kantesius’s body, countless souls flew off his armor like rushing water.

“Ahahahaha! I have as many substitutes to die in my stead as I need!” he jeered.

The imperial knights surged back and forth; all kinds of magic came one after another.

They knew Isatia was out of time, and that their thousand-year vigil and fealty were reaching their end.

House Lanteville was, in the end, walking the same road as the Carillian Family.

“What—?” At that moment, outside the Marsmo Royal Palace, with a single, overburdened crash, the constructed Marsmo Royal Palace collapsed; components of gold and gemstone lay everywhere.

The tremendous aftershock almost flipped Vinny off his feet; if not for the imperial knight beside him yanking him into the saddle in time and fleeing the scene, he would have been swept away.

Watching the palace behind him crumple from top to bottom, Vinny’s eyes went wide.

Sure enough—what was coming had come.

“It’s over.” After they had run far enough to be safe, the imperial knight set Vinny down from the horse and looked toward the highest point of the [Perennial Imperial Diadem], the hub clock tower. “It is… over.”

No sorrow, no joy in his voice—only deathly stillness.

If the hub clock tower collapsed, they would have no home to return to.

Vinny knew what he meant—and didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“Is there no other way to repair that tower?”

“No.” The instant the imperial knight finished, Vinny witnessed a scene so shocking he would never forget it.

The hub clock tower, emblem of imperial civilization, could not endure the shattered aftershock. It broke in two at the point of greatest damage in the middle.

All was finished.

For some reason, the upper half’s fall seemed abnormally slow in Vinny’s eyes—until the instant it struck the ground he snapped back to himself.

The ground heaved violently—as if heaven and earth were being split.

As the [Perennial Imperial Diadem] was born, so it would perish.

Vinny noticed the imperial knight’s figure beginning to fade into a phantom.

The knight turned back, looking deep at Vinny.

“I don’t know who you are, but… I imagine you are someone very important to Her Royal Highness.”

“Before the tower fell, she ordered me to take you to a safe place.”

“This is our first ‘failure’ within the [Perennial Imperial Diadem],” the imperial knight said, shaking his head. “Here we possess infinite life and endless strength; no enemy is our match.”

“Yet even the grandest architecture buckles under unbearable weight—just like imperial civilization.”

“After the old Tyrelis Empire came the Tyrel Empire. If the Tyrel Empire falls, will there be another to take its place? No one knows.”

“Live well. Hereafter… there may be no Empire to protect you.” With those weighty words, the imperial knight fell silent.

Only now did Vinny understand that these knights who pledged fealty to House Lanteville had not only sworn to Lanteville—but to the Empire as the protector of the many.

They protected the Empire—and the masses.

It was precisely because their hearts held such great righteousness, because they possessed such character, that House Lanteville could take up the Carillian Family’s banner and win so many knights loyal unto death.

“Thank you, Sir Knight,” Vinny said from the heart. “Thank you for your thousand-year watch.”

“This is my duty.” The knight’s muffled voice grew faint and hollow, and at the last he offered Vinny a ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) knight’s salute.

The [Perennial Imperial Diadem] had vanished; their mission had reached its end.

The scene before his eyes dropped frames for an instant. With a crisp shattering sound, everything collapsed in a heartbeat. Then Vinny felt a rush of weightlessness—and slammed hard into the ground.

When he opened his eyes again, it was still that familiar arena, that familiar Marsmo Royal Palace—only this time, he was no longer under the [Perennial Imperial Diadem]’s protection; no longer under the Empire’s protection.

Vinny looked around in a panic—and at last, not far away, found Isatia lying on the ground, life or death unknown.

“Isatia—Isatia?!” Vinny rushed to her side and found that she still seemed conscious, but her state was extremely bad.

Just as Vinny moved to lift her up, a thunderous boom fell from the sky and detonated on the ground.

“Heh. Looks like my loyal soldiers were all left behind in that domain of hers,” Kantesius said, rolling his shoulders as he looked upon the fainted Isatia and the spent Vinny, a feral grin on his face. “Trying to slay a god—fools!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep