Chapter 3

I parted ways with Pies and walked through the palace.

“It’s truly beautiful.”

An elegance that mere wealth couldn’t buy, brimming with the pride of a thousand-year empire.

“Before my regression, I never thought this place was beautiful.”

I gave a bitter smile.

Nineteen years ago, as a young Zionis, this palace was just a place of fear.

Always anxious about catching my siblings’ eyes or facing their mockery, how could I have felt its beauty?

I passed through a glass-walled corridor.

Beyond it lay a vibrant garden.

The glass, enchanted somehow, didn’t block sound or scent.

The fragrance of flowers was pleasant, but I turned my steps.

My path didn’t lead to beauty.

“From the banquet hall, to the right.”

Past the garden, to the right of the banquet hall.

Turning there, the air grew secretive.

Fewer windows connected to deeper parts of the palace.

The path was complex, so I racked my memory.

Finding my way after nineteen years wasn’t easy.

The presence of people dwindled.

This corridor led to the imperial inner sanctum, so that was expected.

Sure enough, someone blocked my way.

A man in a turquoise robe with a stylish mustache.

“Stop, please.”

He spoke, stroking his mustache.

“This leads to the imperial sanctum. May I have your name?”

“Zionis.”

I declared boldly.

“The fifth prince of the empire.”

“Indeed, you look the part. But may I verify?”

“Of course, Dean Cornelius.”

The man called Cornelius raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“You know me?”

“How could I not know the dean of the Imperial Academy of Magic? I also know you’re not one to stand guard.”

“I’m flattered by your words.”

Cornelius spoke courteously.

Even with the Succession War, a dean standing guard was irksome, so my praise pleased him inwardly.

“Here, your wrist.”

I offered my hand without hesitation.

Cornelius placed a strange device on my slender wrist—a magical tool for identity verification.

It beeped and he bowed.

“As expected, it is Your Highness. My apologies.”

“No need for apologies. It’s a procedure.”

“This is my first time meeting you, though I’ve heard your name. You’re courteous.”

Cornelius asked again.

“Have you brought any weapons?”

“As you see, I’m empty-handed.”

“Any companions, Your Highness?”

“Also as you see.”

I shrugged.

I was alone.

My only imperial guard was off on an errand.

Cornelius smiled.

“If you had weapons or companions, you’d need to leave them in the corridor ahead, but it seems unnecessary.”

The mustached man stepped aside, placing his right hand on his chest and bowing—a gesture of respect to imperialism.

“Enter, Your Highness. May glory grace your path.”

* * *

“Being treated politely feels strange.”

I chuckled.

In this palace, neglect was the norm.

“Cornelius Merhes. I never imagined meeting him here.”

The dean of the Imperial Academy of Magic, a four-star mage, was no small figure.

Yet here he was, standing guard like a common soldier.

Not entirely surprising, though.

This corridor led to one of the continent’s most secretive places.

Non-imperials couldn’t even step here without risking their lives.

But today, there was a slight bustle.

“Well, that’s intense.”

People lined the corridor.

“My siblings’ hounds.”

Their suffocating aura surged, then waned as they noticed me.

“Fighting for their masters’ pride?”

Companions this far were surely trusted confidants.

They exuded an aura rivaling Dean Cornelius.

Some faces were familiar from my past life’s fame.

“They’re all formidable… Ugh!?”

I screamed inwardly.

It was the man with jade-green eyes.

“The Seer Amethus!? Who brought that guy as a companion?”

Those jade eyes—I couldn’t mistake them. It was definitely Amethus, the Seer, one of the ten great generals of the Cordis Empire in my past life, a monster among monsters!

“He was here back then. I was too young to know…”

I quickened my pace.

“…The Seer is dangerous. Avoid eye contact.”

Pretending calm, I passed quietly.

Eyes turned to me, but no one spoke or greeted me.

Typical.

This was the treatment the Fifth Prince Zionis always received.

“Right. They don’t care anyway.”

At the corridor’s end, I pushed open the door.

A door to the palace’s inner sanctum, impassable to those men.

A strange hum and a sensation like being scanned washed over me.

Some magic was testing me.

Ancient magic examined me.

But I wasn’t worried.

I had no reason to be.

I stood confidently before the Chamber of the Azure Sky.

I was a rightful heir of Cordis.

The blood of the Great Emperor Continua.

“Ah, here I am.”

My heart pounded with an odd thrill.

“My wretched siblings!”

* * *

“Why such a request?”

Pies Roesti headed somewhere, following my orders to prepare … perfectly.

The ceremony’s end was uncertain, so he had to hurry to make it perfect.

“But is His Highness Zionis alright…?”

The blood of the Cordis imperial family held power.

Not just authority or nobility.

Tangible strengths like exceptional mana or prodigious talent were inherited through the blood.

The children of the Great Emperor Continua were especially blessed.

“Compared to the other Highnesses, Zionis is…”

Rumors abounded about the princes and princesses.

One could manipulate minds.

Another was blessed with magic from birth.

Another tore a lion’s jaws at nine.

“…Too ordinary.”

Pies knew.

Most of those rumors were true, even understated.

Living in the palace as an imperial guard, he couldn’t help but know how monstrous the Great Emperor’s children were and how pitiful Zionis seemed in comparison…

“Today, he seemed spirited, but still…”

Pies had served the Fifth Prince Zionis for years.

He knew Zionis was diligent and kind.

But that alone couldn’t navigate the palace’s deep shadows. So Pies’s sighs grew heavier.

“Please, let nothing happen…”

* * *

The Chamber of the Azure Sky opened.

Cold gazes met me.

All from my siblings.

The scorn and mockery in their eyes.

Exactly as expected, hardly surprising.

Still, I hunched my shoulders, acting timid.

That’s what an eleven-year-old Zionis would’ve done.

Unpleasant silence.

Reproachful eyes and a cowed child.

“You’re late, Zionis.”

A heavy voice broke the silence.

A giant, three heads taller than others.

Eleven-year-old Zionis looked like a doll beside him.

The giant spoke, his face stone-like.

“Everyone was waiting for you.”

“Sorry, Brother Secundus.”

“Hm. No need for apologies.”

The Second Prince, Secundus Debius.

A born overlord.

Tore a lion’s jaws at nine.

Felled a magical beast at twelve.

Undoubtedly boasting the strongest physique among the eight imperial siblings.

“Don’t bow too much. It doesn’t suit Cordis’s blood.”

“Yes, Brother.”

“That’s what I mean… Never mind. Take your place.”

Secundus didn’t elaborate.

I didn’t respond further and moved.

At the edge, a woman bowed, her face veiled in gray.

She must have some imperial blood to be here, but she wasn’t an heir.

A whimper came from her arms.

A baby in her embrace.

Babato Lurudis, the Sixth Prince.

My half-brother, not yet walking.

I stood beside them.

I knew my place, but confirming it felt bitter.

Six sons, two daughters.

Half-siblings bearing their mothers’ surnames, not yet Cordis’s.

Of the eight, I was seventh.

Just one above the last.

That was Zionis’s place.

* * *

The Chamber of the Azure Sky.

Where the thousand-year empire’s glory began.

I wasn’t the only cautious one.

Secundus was silent too.

Even the Great Emperor’s children couldn’t speak freely here.

Only a fool eager to flaunt stupidity would.

“Slowpoke Zionis, late even on a day like this?”

A fool spoke.

Right beside me, from sixth place.

“Always so sluggish.”

A snicker.

A plump face poured out mockery.

That fat face fond of sneering.

The Fourth Prince, Nebulo Le Etier.

“Fat Nebulo. Even after all this time, he’s not remotely welcome.”

As a child, he tormented me the most.

His bullying was so blatant it didn’t wound deeply, but it wasn’t pleasant.

Even after nineteen years, Nebulo lacked tact.

Oblivious to the mood, he rambled on, cloaking mockery in lectures.

“Hey, Zionis, you’re just not cutting it. Noble blood, you know? You need to take more responsibility…”

“Still so talkative. I’ll let it slide.”

I played the part of eleven-year-old Zionis faithfully.

Hands clasped politely, nodding appropriately with “Yes, yes.”

Even if it was Fat Nebulo, there was no need to stir trouble.

To others, it might look like I was being bullied.

But I wasn’t upset.

Would anyone be bothered by a pill bug preaching about life?

“…So, your attitude. That’s the problem. An imperial needs a fitting demeanor…”

“Enough, Nebulo.”

The Second Prince, Secundus, intervened.

“Does your attitude suit the Chamber of the Azure Sky?”

“…B-Brother Secundus. I was just advising Zionis as a brother…”

“Stop. Hold your tongue.”

Nebulo couldn’t say more.

Even if his position was better than mine, compared to Secundus, he was just as pathetic. Secundus’s voice rang heavier.

“His Majesty, our father, is about to arrive.”

* * *

In the Chamber of the Azure Sky, a thick curtain hung.

Beyond it was permitted only to the empire’s master.

From there, footsteps sounded.

The eight imperial siblings fell silent.

“…”

“…”

The air grew heavy.

Was it just the mood, or was some power truly filling the space?

No one could explain.

Only the weight was clear.

A murmur, hard to attribute, arose.

“…He’s here.”

The footsteps stopped.

The eight imperial siblings knelt and bowed their heads.

Muscular Secundus, Fat Nebulo, me—all of us.

Even baby Babato stopped whimpering.

A faint light seeped from beyond the curtain, casting shadows.

A woman’s bowed form, a high throne, and someone seated there.

“Raise the curtain.”

The voice was majestic.

The barrier was lifted.

…! Everyone bowed deeper without exception.

A force pressed down.

The Great Emperor’s presence.

Some groaned.

Even I, in a child’s body, couldn’t escape it and clicked my tongue.

“What a monstrous old man…!”

I struggled to lift my eyes.

Just that was hard.

Cautiously, I looked at the Great Emperor Continua, surely my father by blood.

The Great Emperor was old.

Not frail, but his back was beginning to stoop.

Age spots and wrinkles stood out, his wrists no longer thick.

But those eyes! How they blazed.

Golden pupils like the sun.

The soul’s fire, untouched by old scars or an aging body.

“Even after all this time, he’s unchanged.”

That old man, the empire’s master.

The emperor of emperors, the Great Emperor.

Continua Cordis Magnus.

“Damnably great, our father!”

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