Chapter 403: Amanca XVI

A week has passed since the Crown Prince ascended to the throne. During this time, all titled nobles of the empire had come to the capital to pledge loyalty to the new Emperor, and diplomatic envoys from various countries had also bowed their heads respectfully.

While this was all natural, there was a time when such naturalness crumbled. In the past, we struggled to coax and persuade nobles who refused to come to the capital while citing bizarre reasons and engaged in nerve-wracking battles with kingdoms that wouldn’t send envoys to the empire.

But now, the Emperor of the empire was no longer the old Amanca XVI, but the young Amanca XVII. It was the era of a powerful Emperor with a ducal family as in-laws, not a powerless Emperor from a cadet branch without support. Moreover, the in-laws weren’t traitors trying to manipulate the Emperor, but loyal subjects serving with devotion and love.

Order has been restored.

Even now, I can still recall the events of the abdication ceremony when I close my eyes. The Emperor standing proudly amidst the Pope’s blessings, and the dukes’ loyalty pledges. The Emperor who demonstrated the stability of the imperial family by immediately appointing the Imperial Grandchild as Crown Princess upon ascension.

It’s truly like a dream. Decades ago, it was faster to count what we had than what we lacked, but now it’s hard to find anything we’re missing.

It’s finally set right.

Yes, this is what an Emperor should be. This is what the empire should be.

An Emperor upholding the will of Great Emperor Amanca should rightfully receive reverence. The one and only empire on this continent should rightfully receive awe.

That righteousness will be a pillar not only for the dignity of the imperial family and the empire but also for the peace of the subjects.

“Retired Emperor. We have arrived.”

As I was recalling the image of the Emperor striding proudly amidst the cheers and applause of all, I heard the voice of Baron Antrach, sitting in the coachman’s seat.

He should be in his territory.

I thought as I opened the carriage door. Having resigned from the position of Minister of the Imperial Household, he should be enjoying a comfortable retirement in his fief, not attending to an old retired Emperor like me. It’s ridiculous that he, old himself, volunteered for the role of coachman.

I’d like to force him to return, but sadly, Baron Antrach’s stubbornness has been well-known for ages, so it would be futile. So I have no choice but to keep him by my side.

“I will go ahead with Baron Antrach, so you all wait here.”

“Retired Emperor, please reconsider. We shall accompany Your Majesty.”

When I spoke to the imperial knights at the entrance of the National Cemetery, they became agitated and spoke up. It’s a natural reaction when the person they’re supposed to protect dismisses their guard and moves alone.

“There is no safer place in this empire than here, so do not worry.”

Still, I firmly shook my head and pushed away their loyal concerns. The place I’m going is not only the safest in the empire but also a place I want to visit quietly.

It would be unpleasant to visit in a noisy crowd. She always disliked large groups of people.

“As a subject, I fully understand your feelings, but the Retired Emperor wishes to move lightly, so what can we do? You should stay back.”

With even Baron Antrach stepping in to urge them to wait, the knights became even more flustered and didn’t know what to do.

“Or do you not trust the capital’s security? The Imperial Guard Corps would be disappointed.”

“N-No, Your Excellency!”

“I jest. My words were mischievous.”

At the sight of Baron Antrach letting out a small laugh, the knights finally relented. Though he added that it was a joke, they surely understood the meaning: ‘Don’t be more troublesome and just stay put.’

Watching this scene, I moved towards the National Cemetery. Having an aged subject by my side even after retirement isn’t comfortable, but no one understands my mind as well as Baron Antrach. It’s hard to deny that having him nearby is indeed comforting.

“You should be watching your grandchildren’s antics when you’re old, not receiving resentment from young folks.”

Baron Antrach, following behind me, joked.

It’s whining not worth responding to. He speaks well for someone who wouldn’t have made it this far if he truly feared mere resentment.

“A brother should do that much for his younger sibling.”

At those words, Baron Antrach seemed startled for a moment before breaking into laughter.

In the distant past, now hazy in memory, I did treat Baron Antrach like an older brother. Baron Antrach’s father and my father were close friends with neighboring fiefs, and that relationship extended to us children. Thanks to that, Baron Antrach and I were like brothers.

That relationship crumbled when I became Emperor — but now that I’ve stepped away from the name of Emperor, I spoke of those times for the first time in ages.

“Yes, that’s right. As an older brother, that’s only proper.”

Having said that, Baron Antrach fell silent. Whether he, like me, was recalling the past, or simply had nothing more to say, I couldn’t tell.

The past, huh?

They say the older you get, the more beautifully you view your youthful memories. I’m no different.

Even thinking back now, when everything has ended, the early days of my reign aren’t beautiful memories, but before my ascension was certainly beautiful.

Me and Baron Antrach, and the Empr—

“Retired Emperor.”

I was a bit startled by the sudden voice. Even though I was lost in thought, it’s surprising that I didn’t notice someone approaching so close.

Turning my gaze to the side, I saw the National Cemetery caretaker gently bowing her head and then raising it. Outwardly, she appeared to be a woman with golden hair flowing to her waist and golden eyes, but—

We’ve already reached the imperial section.

Her true identity is the former Dragon Lord, hiding her identity to manage Great Emperor Amanca’s tomb up close.

I felt a sense of awe at the sight of the former Lord appearing like the wind as soon as we entered the imperial section. A being that’s usually invisible even when sought out appears as if waiting when one steps into the imperial section. Perhaps it’s because she’s a dragon, but there’s definitely something different about her.

“I’ll move with the caretaker now, so Baron, please wait here.”

Of course, the fact that the caretaker is the former Dragon Lord is a secret known only to the Emperor, so I ordered Baron Antrach to wait and moved on with the former Lord. The conversation I’m about to have with the former Lord is one that no one else should hear.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Baron Antrach acquiesced as always to that instruction.

The former Lord walked ahead of me without saying a word. I, too, unable to casually address the being who was Great Emperor’s companion, maintained silence.

“You’ve worked hard all this time.”

It was the former Lord who broke that silence. Instead of the polite voice she had used when Baron Antrach was present, she spoke with an imposing and firm — yet simultaneously warm — voice.

“I was worried that his empire, his descendants might disappear. I feared he might be demoted from a revered founding ancestor to a mere historical figure.”

“I can only apologize for the concern caused by incompetent descendants.”

“You have no obligation to apologize to me.”

The former Lord stopped walking, turned her gaze to me, and smiled faintly.

“Nor do I have the right to hear your apology. You’re the admirable child who re-established Amanca’s will; it wouldn’t be excessive for me to express gratitude.”

Then she gently bowed her head. Not as a greeting from the National Cemetery caretaker to the Retired Emperor, but as the former Dragon Lord and Great Emperor’s companion bowing to a mere descendant.

It’s bewildering. Receiving such a greeting from the hidden elder of the imperial family makes me feel like a sinner. Yet, I can’t stop the elder, probably because my body has frozen at this unexpected sight.

“I’ve cast a spell, so no one will hear even if you shout from there. So stay at ease and return when you’re ready.”

The former Lord raised her head, smiled again, and with those words, clapped her palms together.

Huh.

Suddenly, my body was standing in an area that would normally take quite a walk to reach.

A somewhat peripheral area within the imperial section, where there’s a rather plain tomb for an imperial figure.

“…I’ve come, Empress.”

Before the tomb of the Empress who left my side, whom I failed to protect.

“I was trying to prepare my heart as I walked, but we arrived faster than expected.”

I found myself speaking as if making excuses out of bewilderment. From the former Lord’s perspective, it was probably consideration, but from my standpoint, it felt like being suddenly stabbed with a knife.

“But it’s good to see you quickly, I suppose.”

I fell silent for a moment. I questioned whether I had the right to say such things to the Empress.

But what can I do about words already spoken? And right now, regardless of whether I have the right or not, I want to pour out everything I want to say.

“Gilbert. That child has become Emperor. Unlike in my time, the cheers of ‘Long live’ were so loud that you might have heard them too.”

I carefully reached out and caressed the Empress’s tomb.

“Now I am no longer Emperor, but the Retired Emperor. It’s the first time in imperial history.”

I found the corners of my mouth turning up involuntarily. As I’ve thought before, it seems I’m taking all the ‘firsts’ in imperial history.

“Now that I’m not Emperor, I don’t need to strive anymore.”

After saying that, I let out a bitter laugh. No need to strive. I no longer have any duties or missions, so I can just live ordinarily.

But what meaning is there in that? After abandoning everything and living this way until now, what meaning is there in saying I can live ordinarily now?

“…It’s fucking miserable.”

So I couldn’t help but let out a coarse word. I tried to restrain myself in front of the Empress’s tomb, but I couldn’t hold back.

“It’s unfair. How much imperial blood could I possibly have, and how much could I really resemble the previous Emperor? As you know, my father was no more than a mere count.”

It’s been long since I lost my identity as a member of the imperial family, long since I’ve been distanced from the rights and duties of the imperial family. I wasn’t Corvus the imperial prince, but Corvus the noble. I thought that was my fate.

“But then they suddenly tell a young man who’s just become a count to become Emperor, and the marquis families try to produce an Empress in the meantime. It was utterly absurd.”

However, ironically, my fate was higher and more treacherous than I thought. I thought I was a distant cadet branch, but it turned out I was a ‘relatively’ close cadet branch.

I didn’t particularly want to know that.

“I thought I was going mad. I, who found even a count’s domain burdensome, was about to rule this empire, and I, who had promised to marry you, was about to marry a woman I’d never met before. I’ve never resented Enen as much as I did then.”

Moreover, the empire I was forced to inherit was on the brink of collapse, and my marriage partner was the epitome of greed and pride, without love or duty. I was furious, wondering what sin I had committed to deserve such punishment.

Why on earth did I have to be in this situation? It was the damned direct line and the previous Emperor who ruined this empire, so why did I, who had branched off long ago, have to bear this karmic retribution?

Still, I had no choice. I had to put aside my resentment and anger and accept it.

Because I am a Livnoman.

Since I enjoyed a noble’s life just because I was a descendant of the Great Emperor, shouldn’t I shoulder the responsibility just because I’m from a cadet branch?

Because I wasn’t the victim.

And no matter how unfair it was for me, it couldn’t be more unfair than for the subjects who fell into despair meeting terrible dark emperors.

The subjects who met those hateful and detestable dark emperors who failed to properly uphold the Great Emperor’s will, failed to protect the Mandate of Heaven, failed to fulfill the mission of bringing peace to this world and filling the bodies of all people — those subjects, not someone like me, are the greatest victims.

So I accepted everything. At the same time, I abandoned everything.

“…I thought that was my mission.”

The throne coming to a cadet branch was no different from the last chance Enen and the Great Emperor gave to the Livnomans. If I missed this opportunity, the next would be the fall of the imperial family and the collapse of the empire.

I thought it was a luxury for someone like me to be swayed by personal emotions. I thought pursuing personal happiness was a sin. I thought being content with the present was incompetence.

If I moved according to my emotions, the subjects would suffer. If I pursued happiness, the empire would be torn apart. If I settled for the present, I couldn’t protect the Mandate of Heaven.

I am not just an individual, but a stepping stone bearing the achievements and karma of the Livnomans. I’m merely an intermediate point that must pass on the Great Emperor’s brilliant glory to future generations.

I’ve run forward thinking that way. Perhaps because I couldn’t completely abandon my emotions, I took you as Empress, but considering Gilbert has become Emperor, it seems it was the right choice.

I tried hard to think that way. Because if that wasn’t the right choice, it means I caused your death.

“Ah, do you know what that child said? He said he wouldn’t abandon anything.”

I burst into laughter. Even though it was my son, the succeeding Emperor, who made a statement denying all the days I’ve spent abandoning everything, I was rather pleased.

“That child should be able to do it. I made it so.”

Doesn’t it mean I’ve run properly? Doesn’t it mean that the current Emperor is in an environment where he can move forward embracing everything, without needing to abandon everything like I did?

“I really, really made it so. Dedicating my life… giving up being a father in front of you and that child, that’s the empire I created.”

I can be confident about this much at least. Fortunately, I was able to secure the empire’s fate with just one life — mine.

“So…”

But even with that confidence, I couldn’t bring myself to say what came next. Even though I had resolved to pour out everything I wanted to say, I just couldn’t open my mouth.

As a result, after a long silence, I finally managed to speak. If not today, I might never be able to say it.

“So, if Enen grants us another life — wouldn’t we be born as commoners then, neither imperial family nor nobles?”

Yes, we don’t need the imperial purple crown or the blue blood of nobility. If there’s a next life, I want to live as a commoner.

If I, a commoner, meet you, also a commoner, we could marry without political interference, right? We could become husband and wife amidst pure congratulations, right?

And living in a small house on the outskirts of a village, not a city, I would go out to work in a nearby field in the morning. It doesn’t need to be a vast field stretching to the horizon; one big enough to feed our family would be enough.

It might be good to raise chickens or pigs too. We could raise them diligently, eat eggs, and occasionally slaughter one when the children crave meat, wouldn’t that be perfect?

Of course, living as commoners, our lives couldn’t be completely peaceful and without ups and downs. No, regardless of status, when people live together, we might quarrel sometimes.

But just as the ground becomes firmer after rain, we too would quickly make up after a brief fight, and live on laughing as if nothing had happened.

Yes, we could live like that. Like ordinary humans, ordinarily and unremarkably, just like that.

…If we lived such a life, I could say it every day.

“I love you, Selereden.”

Those words that Emperor Amanca XVI didn’t dare to say.

“It’s been 30 years since I last said it.”

Now that I’ve shed the name of Emperor, these words that will never reach you who has left my side.

After saying those words, droplets fell on the back of my hand resting on the tomb.

Rain?

Thinking that perhaps the Empress in heaven had given an answer, I raised my head, but the sky was clear without a single cloud.

Lowering my head again, droplets were still falling on the back of my hand.

How strange.

The Retired Emperor, who disappeared with the caretaker, only returned after quite some time had passed.

Of course, now that His Majesty has stepped down as Retired Emperor and completely let go of his duties, spending a long time in one place causes no problems. Rather, since it’s obvious whose tomb he visited in the imperial section, the longer he stayed, the more pleased I am.

“I’m tired. Let’s return to the palace.”

I couldn’t help but smile slightly at the words he left as he boarded the carriage.

His Majesty, who had thoroughly suppressed his emotional expressions for decades, boldly said he was tired. It was relieving to see that he seemed to have put down the strength he had been acting out as Emperor.

Because of this, I moved somewhat hastily. Nevertheless, it was a struggle to adjust so that His Majesty in the carriage wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but it was something I could endure sufficiently.

“Retired Emperor. We have arrived.”

Fortunately, His Majesty seemed satisfied with my adjustments, and we were able to reach the palace without any complaints.

“Your Majesty?”

But something was strange. His Majesty, who would usually respond immediately, showed no movement. Even after calling him several more times, it was the same.

…

“Your Majesty, excuse me.”

With a worried heart, I opened the carriage door to check on His Majesty.

There, I could see His Majesty with his eyes closed peacefully, wearing a faint smile.

“…Corvus.”

I found myself calling His Majesty’s name without realizing it. Perhaps because we had talked about brothers earlier at the National Cemetery, it was a name that came out truly unconsciously.

But it couldn’t be helped. His Majesty’s current appearance reminded me of those times.

It was the first carefree expression I had seen since His Majesty became Emperor.

You’ve worked hard.

So I too, for a moment, returned to those times.

To the time when I was an older brother encouraging his younger brother.