Ari was on their way back to the dormitory after finishing a grueling day of classes.

Tomorrow’s schedule included practical training starting early in the morning, so Ari planned to head straight to bed upon returning to their room.

“Huh?”

Reaching their dorm room and about to open the door, Ari froze in place.

There was an unsettling sensation—a faint presence coming from inside.

“Someone’s in there.”

No one should have been in their room. Who could have broken into the Academy’s dormitory, protected by multiple layers of magic circles and guards?

“What should I do? Should I call an instructor?”

No.

If Ari left to fetch an instructor, it might take too long. The intruder could escape in the meantime.

“I’ll handle it myself.”

This decision came from a newfound confidence in their recently improved skills.

With their right hand, Ari drew their sword, and with their left, they gripped the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, Ari swung the door open.

“Cadet Ari, I am here on behal—”

“Haaahhhhhh!”

Ari’s blade lashed out toward the intruder.

“M-my apologies!”

“No, it’s my fault. I should have informed you beforehand,” the knight said, bowing slightly.

The Royal Sun Knight had come to deliver an imperial message but now found themselves in an awkward position.

“I can’t believe an Academy cadet sensed my presence.”

The stealth techniques of the Royal Sun Knights were not something ordinary soldiers, let alone a mere cadet, could easily detect. And yet, Ari had not only sensed them but launched an immediate counterattack.

And that strike—though unfinished—was far beyond the level expected of a cadet.

“If I had tried to subdue them, it would’ve taken considerable effort.”

The knight couldn’t help but admire Ari’s potential.

“I’d love to recruit them to our side, but Sir Feltz already has their eye on this one. Pity.”

Suppressing a sigh of regret, the knight reached into their coat and pulled out an envelope—a letter emblazoned with the emblem of a purple dragon.

“This is…!” Ari exclaimed.

“I must emphasize this: Cadet Ari, what happened today, and the contents of this letter, are both classified. This is an imperial directive. Should you reveal the letter’s contents to anyone, the punishment would be equivalent to high treason.”

The knight’s words—elegantly phrased—essentially meant: Speak a word of this, and you and your entire family will be eliminated.

Handing the letter over to Ar, the knight stood back.

Unlike the previous letter Ari had received, the atmosphere this time was heavy and ominous. With trembling hands, Ari took the letter, the weight of its importance pressing down on them.

The Royal Sun Knight confirmed that Ari had finished reading the letter. Once done, the knight reclaimed the letter, burned it to ashes, and left without another word.

Left alone in the room, Ari sat on the bed, trying to sort through their turbulent thoughts.

“So… Her Highness, the Crown Princess, is coming to the Academy, and I’m supposed to… watch her?”

Though the word “watch” wasn’t explicitly used, the instructions were clear: “Stay close to Her Highness, guard her, and if you sense any suspicious activity, report it immediately to the headmaster.”

What else could that be, if not surveillance?

Even someone as politically naïve as Ari could recognize the implications of such blatant phrasing.

“Can I really do this…?”

The idea of a commoner like Ari monitoring a member of the royal family weighed heavily on their shoulders. But the thought that this was an imperial command helped ease the burden, if only slightly.

“Right, this is the Emperor’s order.”

Remembering that His Majesty not only acknowledged their existence but trusted them with such a critical mission brought an unexpected sense of pride.

“This is my chance to repay His Majesty’s grace.”

Ari glanced at their desk, where a previous letter from the Emperor was carefully stored. It was accompanied by an elixir that had greatly enhanced their aura capacity. Recalling the memory, Ari felt a faint twinge of anticipation.

This would be Ari’s first imperial mission.

“Then, Your Majesty, I shall take my leave now.”

Some time had passed since the Emperor had shared a dinner with Duke Fael.

Just the day before, the Empire formally declared that the Kingdom of Daman had harbored a traitor. Along with the declaration, they announced that an envoy, led by Duke Fael, would be sent to lodge a formal protest.

“How dare they! Daman, of all places, sheltering an Imperial traitor!”

“Your Majesty, I implore you to punish those insolent fools!”

As expected, the Empire’s nobles—proud to a fault—were outraged.

“But… did I hear correctly? It’s an envoy for protest, not a declaration of war?”

“Could it be that His Majesty, now past his boyish years, has grown a touch more temperate?”

Some questioned why I had not immediately declared war.

But only my closest confidants needed to understand the true nature of this situation. I had no intention of explaining it to everyone.

“But, Your Majesty,” Duke Fael asked, “what if the King of Daman attacks the envoy?”

In response, I glanced at the so-called “envoy” behind the Duke—a unit masquerading as diplomats but in reality, a military force.

“In such a case,” I said, “exercise your discretion, Duke. For this mission, I grant you full authority over all matters concerning Daman.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

As always, the Duke nodded with a composed expression before turning to join the envoy.

Once he had joined them, all eyes turned to me, awaiting the order to depart.

The Most Honorable House of Fael

The House of Fael was unlike any other in the Empire. It did not gain its prominence through political influence or wealth. Nor did it rely on alliances with supernatural entities.

Instead, it earned and maintained its ducal status with nothing but the sword.

A family uninterested in power or prestige, they lacked even proper fiefdoms. They resided in the capital, dedicating themselves solely to the mastery of the blade.

Now, the Fael family awaited my command.

Though I was still unaccustomed to delivering speeches, I knew I had to say something.

“Hear me, my most loyal sword—Fael.”

I addressed them, my voice steady.

“Pure and noble nobles of the Empire. Thanks to those like you, our Empire continues to enjoy peace and prosperity.

But, unfortunately, not all nobles are like you. Some have forsaken their honor and duty, committing treason against me—against the Empire itself. And now, a kingdom dares to harbor these traitors.”

At the mention of the traitors and the Kingdom of Daman , I saw anger flicker in the eyes of the Fael family.

Satisfied, I continued.

“A mere kingdom has dared to shelter the Empire’s traitors. For this crime, they would have no defense even if we razed their lands to the ground. Yet, I am merciful. I shall give them one final chance.

My envoy, go to Daman. Deliver my fury and hold them accountable for their sins.

For Arhan!”

“For Arhan!!!”

The Empire’s greatest martial family—the most formidable force on the continent—departed for the Kingdom of Daman.

“How long do you think it will take for Duke Fael to reach Daman ?”

“Well, I’ve instructed him to move slowly, so no less than three months, I’d wager.”

The news that Daman had taken in Giore had already spread across the continent.

It was an event more than sufficient to disgrace the Empire, and thus, I had to redirect the continent’s attention. By commanding Duke Fael to march slowly and ostentatiously toward Daman, I aimed to make a statement.

As one of the strongest Masters of this era, Duke Fael’s departure from the Empire was bound to attract challengers. Each one he defeated would restore the Empire’s prestige.

“By the way, Sir Kraol . You’re quite late.”

Kraol had investigated at the Mage Tower, compiling information about the connection between jewel magic and Edelvine before bringing it to me.

“Your Majesty, I am no information agent. It is only natural that I should lag behind the Imperial Intelligence Bureau.”

“Fair enough. But I doubt you came here just to deliver this report.”

Unlike my other retainers, Kraol did not treat me with excessive deference. This was understandable, as he was antagonistic toward both the Mage Tower and the Empire.

If reporting was his only purpose, he would have sent a disciple or subordinate.

At my question, Kraol’s demeanor shifted. With a serious expression, he asked,

“Your Majesty. Have you… reached it?”

It was a question only a mage as close to the rank of Archmage as Kraol could ask.

This was not the Imperial Mage Corps Commander speaking, but a fellow magician. To such a question, I was willing to answer candidly.

“I have surpassed it.”

“…Ha…”

Kraol let out a brief sigh, closing his eyes without saying another word.

It was not behavior one should exhibit in the presence of the Emperor, but I chose not to reprimand him.

After a moment of silence, Kraol opened his eyes and asked again.

“Your Majesty, the Tower Master once said that the world is neither absolute nor complete. What do you think of that statement?”

Ah, so you’ve reached that level.

The rumors of Kraol being close to Archmage status were not exaggerated.

“The world is not absolute,” I replied. “There are simply beings who come infinitely close to absoluteness.”

Looking at Kraol, I found myself hopeful. Someday, perhaps, the Empire would gain another Archmage.

With that thought, I gave him my answer.