episode_0033
by fnovelpia
33. On the Brink
Oh Yeong-je.
The Minister of the Royal Household, Chief Steward, Head Chamberlain, Master of Wardrobe, and Chief Secretary.
The five who speak on the Emperor’s behalf.
We are figures of power.
The immense authority to enter the imperial palace—armed—where the Emperor resides.
The overwhelming might to brand enemies with a single word or turn them into traitors.
The absolute military command to wield the imperial guards like private soldiers at will.
Our status was so lofty we could strike down even birds in flight…
“Ha… This is unsettling.”
As the Head Chamberlain said, our former prestige was now nowhere to be found.
Our power had been built upon carrying the Emperor—literally and figuratively.
But after the passing of the great, wise, and benevolent former Emperor, the young sovereign did not look kindly upon us.
A child Emperor who resisted granting us authority… and yet, too old for us to manipulate as we pleased.
The Emperor, his mind hardened with thoughts of treason, failed to recognize our worth as exceptional vassals.
The only reason we still held any influence was due to the Emperor’s youth and lack of political foundation…
Yet this child sovereign worked tirelessly to discard us like used rags.
Thus, our strength was no longer what it once had been.
Still… a dragon with broken wings is no mere lizard.
“……”
The moment we stepped into the banquet hall, the grand aristocracy fell silent.
Like an aged, toothless beast that proves fiercer in its frailty—and to remind them all that we remained formidable—we sought a target.
Our choice fell upon a noble from the northwestern wildlands.
We insulted one called *Blackthorn* and pressed another named *Goldhelm*.
We assumed none would dare defy the sheer privilege of accompanying armed knights within the palace walls—or challenge the authority that left nobles powerless…
Yet there was one fool who openly defied us.
A woman whose beauty belied her idiocy, mocking Lord Oh Yeong-je with open scorn, as if trying to provoke him into ending her.
A monster said to have single-handedly slaughtered two thousand barbarians, bearing the fearsome title *Peerless Under Heaven*.
Having withdrawn from worldly affairs, we had only heard rumors of her—never seen her face—and unwittingly stirred her wrath.
“WHO DARES RAISE A HAND AGAINST ME?!”
With mana-infused resonance, the *Peerless Under Heaven* roared.
A monster swinging a halberd—massive and razor-sharp—like a toothpick in careless arcs.
Just as we reeled under her intimidation… an aide intervened, thankfully diffusing the situation.
Reina, the so-called *Peerless Under Heaven*, had vanished.
But the dread and fear she left behind clung to us like a lingering chill.
So we bristled all the more, doubling down on threatening Goldhelm to regain dominance.
If the aristocracy sensed our fangs loosening, they would not stay idle…
For just as the nobles feared us, we feared them in turn.
Yet we could not show weakness.
We remained the absolute power bending the Emperor to our will—the true masters crafting legitimacy.
And so, we sought another to restore discipline.
One who would cause no backlash.
A mediocrity incapable of fighting back like the *Peerless Under Heaven*.
In our sight entered a commoner—one devoid of mana, almost unfamiliar…
Yes, this one would do.
“ATTENTION.”
Thus began our petty tyranny.
――――――――――――――――――――
The atmosphere turned abruptly hostile.
Erika and Cecilia glared at Lord Oh Yeong-je with a coldness never before seen.
Directed at the old men who dictated treason and exercised absolute power within the palace…
One of them began berating the two women.
“Such insolence! How dare you spew such insults at us—!”
“Got a problem?”
“Wh—what…?”
“I despise vulgar speech… but to paraphrase Grace’s words—*what are you gonna do about it?*”
Erika’s choice of words was unbecoming of a grand aristocrat.
Cecilia, too, seemed genuinely angry—masking her barbs in polite speech.
With the head of the vast Redmain and Arcadia’s heir united, even Lord Oh Yeong-je appeared rattled.
Their panic was palpable as they stammered helplessly.
Eventually, their wrinkled faces flushed red.
Veins bulged on their necks as they resumed shouting at Erika and Cecilia.
“Tr-traitors…! TREACHEROUS WRETCHES, YOU—!”
But the surrounding nobles reacted poorly.
Whether due to past grievances with Oh Yeong-je… or Erika and Cecilia’s overwhelming influence—none responded in their favor.
One thing was certain: not a single noble sided with Oh Yeong-je.
Just as the tension reached its peak, Goldhelm scuttled forward.
Playing the sycophant flawlessly, he rushed to Oh Yeong-je’s aid.
So smoothly it felt rehearsed…
“Ahaha, it seems there’s been a slight miscommunication!”
“A… miscommunication?”
“This commoner here has recently gained fame as a brilliant artificer!”
Goldhelm, who had been grabbed by the hair and humiliated, acted as though pride meant nothing as he fabricated excuses for Oh Yeong-je.
“In fact, he’s considered a *treasure* of House Grace! Surely you weren’t aware?”
“Hmph… Is that so? Indeed, my ignorance is to blame.”
Stroking his thinning white beard, Lord Oh Yeong-je regained composure.
With practiced dignity, he turned to Erika and offered an apology.
“Burdened as I am with imperial duties, I failed to recognize your attendant’s worth.
For my thoughtless actions against House Grace’s *treasure*, I offer my sincerest regrets.”
Pride clinging to every word, he still regarded me as an object.
The sight of him stroking his beard while looking down at Erika was infuriating…
Yet—
“I… accept your apology.”
Erika had no grounds to press further.
Though my treatment improved thanks to her and her sisters, commoners here were still scorned as lesser than nobles—akin to livestock.
Oh Yeong-je’s reaction wasn’t strange in a world where this was *common sense*.
Had Erika lashed out further, it would’ve given them grounds to brand her treasonous.
So she gritted her teeth and accepted it.
Still fuming, she turned to me with an order.
“Cain… leave us for now.”
“But…”
I tried to protest—until Cecilia held me back, covering my mouth.
Guiding me with a knowing glance, she ushered me toward the entrance.
Smiling faintly, she reassured me while sharing crucial insight.
“No need to worry.”
“But… those men are the empire’s highest authority—”
“*We* hold equal power. Trust us.”
Erika and Cecilia were grand aristocrats—rulers of vast lands.
Even if Oh Yeong-je’s authority was sky-high, they held enough influence to resist.
Cecilia patted my back softly and murmured something ominous.
“Beasts soon to fall from the heavens…”
Her eerie whisper sent shivers down my spine.
Reluctantly, I nodded and exited the banquet.
――――――――――――――――――――
After leaving, I briefly met Vivian in the humble chamber where I would later have my imperial audience.
She stood guard nearby—instantly mothering me upon spotting blood in my mouth.
For thirty minutes, she carefully cleaned and stopped the bleeding with pristine cloth.
As she worked, I recounted the events inside, fearing for Erika’s safety.
But Vivian only snorted dismissively—utterly unconcerned.
She explained why Cecilia had told me not to worry.
Precisely *what* status Lord Oh Yeong-je truly held…
“So, cub… where do you think those Oh Yeong-je worms rank in society?”
“Uh…”
My mind blanked at such an unexpected question.
True, their *title* was high—but I’d never heard of them being nobles.
Vivian giggled before spelling it out for me.
“Those clinging to the Oh Yeong-je seats? Their bloodlines are anything but lofty.
Low-ranking nobles… or failed heirs denied peerage for not being firstborn.
They earned their posts distinguishing themselves in palace roles—accounting, stewardship, chamber service, wardrobe management.
Oh, once they become Oh Yeong-je, past records are *erased*—severed from secular ties to serve solely as the Emperor’s loyal servants.
On paper, at least.
So while their histories remain obscure… what kind of powerful figures would willingly discard their legacies to become imperial lapdogs?”
“But… their power to declare treason—”
At my question, Vivian shrugged.
“That was only possible because the late Emperor handed them unchecked authority. *That* was the anomaly.”
“Wouldn’t other nobles protest?”
“They had their own territories to mind—it’s not like they were being forced to surrender land.
Frankly, a shrewd Emperor rooting out corruption would’ve been far more troublesome short-term, so they tolerated Oh Yeong-je’s rise.”
This empire truly *was* a cesspit.
A pathetic former Emperor outsourcing power to avoid hassle.
Oh Yeong-je, gorging on that privilege, puffing themselves up before dukes, marquises, and counts while embezzling fortunes.
Feudal lords who stayed silent—knowing a capable Emperor might expose their own misdeeds.
Looking at it now… this realm was doomed from the start.
Point being—Oh Yeong-je were never mighty to begin with.
With their patron dead, nobles had no reason to cower.
Their hesitation was merely caution toward lingering vestiges of power.
Hearing this, I felt marginally relieved.
As Vivian finished tending to me, our conversation continued—until…
-*Knock knock*…
“Ah, they’re here. I’ll take my leave.”
Vivian exited discreetly through the rear to allow my private audience with the Emperor.
Alone, tension surged through me.
The ruler of a continent-spanning superpower—larger than ancient China.
The legitimate successor to the Frontier Empire stood beyond a flimsy wooden door.
Heart pounding, I stepped forward—
―and opened it as silently as possible, fearing even the creak of hinges might offend.
Through the crack, an exquisite fragrance drifted—followed by a voice like jade marbles rolling across silver.
The late Emperor’s young daughter… just fourteen, they said.
As the empire’s ruler… she eclipsed even Erika and Cecilia in sheer authority.
Would she be as dignified as them?
Or like Ririana—a distant cousin—all sweet smiles yet viperous beneath?
Maybe unexpectedly jovial like Blackthorn, or an emotionless doll like Luna?
Lost in thought, I flinched—
―as a trembling, honeyed voice reached me.
“Mmmgh… Is this really okay? If I get caught alone with a man… but bringing guards or attendants would alert Oh Yeong-je―*HYEEHK!?*”
The girl—no, the *Emperor*—leapt like a startled rabbit when our eyes met.
Tears welling, visibly rattled, she scolded me in a shaky squeak.
“S-such disrespect…!! If you were listening, you should’ve… w-wait, no—you needed *permission* to enter!”
Her self-esteem seemed nonexistent as she quivered like a cornered mouse.
Still… she *was* the Emperor, and eavesdropping *was* wrong. So I apologized.
“…My apologies.”
“Huh…? W-wait, hold on—I’ve never *received* an apology before…! *Take it back!*”
What kind of demand was that?
Then, after scanning the hallway sharply, she scurried inside like a nervous squirrel.
The moment the door shut—cutting off any eavesdroppers—her bravado melted back into awkwardness.
A surreal farce: the Emperor of an empire acting timid before a commoner.
Clutching her skirt anxiously, she spoke meekly.
“I-I’m… Aileen Pendleton.”
…A dork Emperor.
Well, that’s new.
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