SS 2: To the Empire

Two days after the Dead Forest Calamity.

Langarde’s Royal Capital, Damas.

Inside the Crown Prince’s Abode—The White Palace.

“Ending up half-dead after a brief incursion on a little nation? Tell me, Alice. Who taught that little stubborn brat a lesson?” An old man garbed in a plain white robe uttered as his thick mustache quivered. He squinted, glancing towards the young lady wearing a maid’s uniform, trying to hold his laughter from echoing throughout the palace. Not out of fear, but simply because he didn’t find the costume apt for her. However, a deal is a deal. She lost the bet, and she had to pay whether she fancies it or not. After all, under a blood contract. The winner’s words are the rules.

“We also don’t know, old man,” said the young maid, trailing behind with her head bowed. “He returned almost half-dead and kept his silence like a dead one.”

“Is that so? This might be interesting.” The old man smirked. He stomped forward to the arching pathways, undaunted by its maze-like nature. In his eyes, the White Castle hadn’t changed at all. It was still the same even years after he ascended the throne. Thirty years had already passed, and he had grown old, but the castle remained unfettered by mother-time.

In that mere thirty years, he led the sagging empire back into the peak of its power.

After a few minutes of navigating through the maze-like palace, the old man and the maid finally arrived at their destination. They passed through the corridors and saw a huge white door. Before the door stood two fully armored knights, unmoving and unperturbed akin to a statue. As soon as they saw the visage of the old man, they thumped their feet together, straightened their backs, and saluted.

“All Hail to his Majesty! Glory and Strength to Langarde.”

The old man waved his hands. The two bulks of armors retreated to the side, giving way to the old man and the maid.

But before they could even open the humongous door, the knight bent his knees, uttering, “This Xan shall forever remember the emperor’s grace for saving father. I shall not forget your benevolence, your majesty. I shall dedicate my life to you and the royal family!”

The old man stopped his steps, turning his gaze towards the knight. He scrutinized the knight, and his eyes turned into slits. “Oh, I almost did not recognize you! You have grown big! How’s your father, Count Kortov?”

“He is in good health, thanks to Your Majesty!” The knight’s tone was full of gratitude.

“That’s good,” said the old man. He drew near towards the knight’s ears, whispering something. “Tell him to visit me soon. I need him back. You see. I’ll appreciate it if he could do the paperwork again for me. And believe me, I have a lot of new ones.”

“I’ll relay it to father, your majesty!”

The old man nodded. He then turned, ogling the young maid following him. He grinned, whispering under his breath. “Anyway, how does she look? Do you think it suits her fine? You know... The maid uniform?”

The knight choked on his spit after hearing the seemingly harmless question. He looked and shuddered. The knight felt the young maid’s eyes pricking past his thick mithril armor. He felt vulnerable. He took a big gulp and answered. “W-Whatever the princess wears... She’ll be the jewel of the empire!”

As soon as he said that, the icy atmosphere receded, turning tranquil once again. The knight felt parched, sensing that he had escaped something. Even the other knight standing nearby sighed in relief. They glanced at the old man, smiling wryly deep inside their helmets.

The emperor was on his antics again.

“Tsk, nosy kid.” The old man clicked his tongue, shifting his gaze away. “No guts and no fun at all. Oh well, I gotta visit the bloody brat first. Let’s go, Alicia. Knights, open the door for us.”

“Yes, Your majesty!” The two knights pushed through the white door, slowly opening it with a creaking sound.

Soon, everything that was inside the white door came to full view. The spacious room was full-white, aside from a few pieces of furniture, swords, and books scattered around. There were also various doors leading to random parts of the castle. Though it didn’t have too many luxurious things, the white room felt extremely soothing. It was one of the Empire’s secrets. The White Room. A blessed place for rest, capable of helping anyone to calm their thoughts, heal their wounds, and strengthen one’s constitution. The treasured room was exclusive to the royal family.

“Brat, where are you? I came to visit.” The old man yelled after seeing the huge white door closing again.

“I’m coming.” A dull tune echoed.

“I brought your sister. Oh! You gotta see her now.” The old man chortled, his beard swinging left and right. “This sight... It might not happen again soon.”

Heavy steps resonated on the marble floor. Soon, a bulky giant came out of the room. He wore bandages like a cloak. The gauzes covering him from head to toe. He looked like a dead man coming out of his creep. The once-clean bandages had a tint of crimson. The scent of blood and herbs drifted in the air. He had been injured all over after activating one of the royal family’s secret techniques. What hurt more was... he still loss despite betting his life.

“Now how the hell did you end up looking like that,” whistled the old man. “What kind of monster did you fight? Did you try picking a fight with a sky whale? I already told you, you’re only going to hand your ass to those beasts if you hunt them at your level.”

“Wait. Hmnn, you used Ascalon and still got beaten up?” The old man held his chin, frowning. “Interesting.”

“Long Live to the Glory of...”

“Cut the crap brat,” sneered the old man. “I know you don’t mean it at all. Just tell me immediately who could make you like that? The Sword Saints? The Southern Warlords? Or is it an archmage?”

The man clicked his tongue and threw his etiquette away. He sauntered into the white couch, dipping into its embrace, sighing. “Not one of them.”

“Who is it?” The old man asked.

“A goddess,” said the empire’s prince, a fleeting look of melancholy floating in his eyes. “I met one.”

But before the old man could even reply, the silent maid let out a light chortle. “Pfft. Dad. Little Dar-Dar has failed to woo a woman. That’s the same look that my suitors wear when I turn them down. I’m quite familiar with that expression.”

“Stop calling me that!” The prince roared. He took a deep breath. “She’s a goddess! You could even ask the old viper of the union. And she, she ripped me up... Wait, what are you wearing? A maid uniform?”

“Well, we lost the bet.” The lady maid shrugged. “The contract penalty. It’s your fault little Dar-Dar.”

The prince shuddered. He turned to the emperor, scowling. “So the plan failed.”

“Marvelously,” the current Emperor of Langarde said. “I even got a lot of love letters from that kingdom. Anyway, I’m also here to collect the price. Both of you have lost the bet, failing to secure Carmandy. Well, it’s not like all has been bad. Carmandy even willingly allowed us to maximize our profit with a new deal. And I got the two of you to listen to me once in a while. So it’s all nice.”

The bulky giant and the lady wearing a maid outfit gazed at their father, frowning.

The maid narrowed her eyes. “You’re already expecting this?”

“Of course not,” said the old emperor. “But I have the hunch that you’ll fail. But a goddess, huh? Things are getting more and more believable.”

The young maid glowered. “Hah, don’t tell me. You believe this love-struck fool?”

The old emperor gave a grin. He fell into his thoughts and nodded. “Do you know that there was once a prophecy in the Endramion—that no one will be able to conquer Carmandy?”

The brother and sister glanced at each other and scowled.

“Hard to believe, right? Well, that happened. In the past two hundred years, all the conquests against the tiny nation had failed for unfathomable reasons. All as if luck was protecting it from the shadows.”

“That’s the basis of your hunch, old man?” The young maid shut her eyes. There was unbelief in her tone. “A prophecy? At this age? You’re already turning senile father.”

“What’s wrong about believing that,” the old man chortled. He pointed at himself. “I’m old and you’re too green.”

“You’ve experienced it yourself. Years of scheming only to end up suddenly failing with no solid reason... well, aside from a goddess. Have you seen the report about the dead forest? If you read that, you’ll agree that a strolling goddess would indeed be a possibility. Not even the strongest archmage could crush the Great Lich of the Dead Forest without paying a price. Just look at the brat. He used Ascalon and still a loss. Ain’t that good proof? And he even had the Union’s viper on his side.”

The young maid shut her eyes. The old man had a point. “I’ll read it later.”

“Right, read it later.”

The old man then turned towards the Black Prince. “Go read it too, brat. Anyway, as for your penalty...”

The old man smirked, gazing at his son. “I got a lot of paperwork...”

The fearsome Black Prince of Langarde quivered, “N-not that. I’m still injured.”

“No, no. You can do it from here. I’ll make sure that you’ll learn a lot.” The old man showed a devilish leer. “An emperor needs to be hardworking. So whether you like it or not...you’re going to do it. You old man is already old. Come on brat. Give me a chance to retire sooner.”

The young maid giggled. She turned around back to the white door. “Enjoy your extra work, little Dar-Dar. I’ll rest at my mansion. Just call me once you’re done.”

“What are you talking about, Alice?” The old man’s smiled turned deeper. “You’re also going to follow us or else I’m going to welcome new suitors inside your mansion.”

“...”