"In a world where crown and heart intertwine, ego is a blazing fire, shaking the throne and subduing the empire"
Tavon drew a short breath before stepping into the center of the room, his hands clenched behind his back. With a single stomp of his armored heel, the heavy sound echoed throughout the chamber, silencing the murmurs and drawing everyone's attention.
"The meeting will begin," he declared, his voice firm and resonant in the vast hall. "Your Majesty, with your permission, I will now present the latest report on Midgaria's situation."
Tavon straightened his back. "The Abyssal Gates are growing increasingly unstable. In the last three months, no less than fifteen new gates have emerged, including one on the border of Savaranth and Tirnaval, which nearly wiped out an entire Beast village. So far, attempts to seal them have failed—the 13 Oaths of Ruin now guard some of them."
The room was immediately filled with hushed whispers that quickly escalated into unrest. Some nobles appeared panicked, while others gripped the arms of their chairs with tense expressions.
"The 13 Oaths of Ruin…" one of the Hierophants whispered, like a fearful prayer.
It was a natural reaction. After all, who in this room didn't know the Thirteen Generals of the Abyss? They were the right hands of the Demon King—the world's destroyers. Entities that brought nothing but calamity wherever they stepped. Each one of them possessed the power to rival an entire nation. They weren't just strong; they were intelligent and battle-hardened, and their bodies defied the very laws of this world.
No Astral Voyager had ever defeated them.
There may have been a few capable of holding their own for a while who could match them in brief combat. But in the end, all shared the same fate—defeat.
"If they've started guarding the Abyssal Gates…" a general said gravely, "then we're no longer facing mere monsters. They're waiting for us. Daring us to come."
Grandfather tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne, calming the room without uttering a word.
"What does the expedition team report on the Abyssal Gate?" he asked, his voice calm though his eyes gleamed sharply.
A general from a battalion different from Tavon stood up. His body was short—typical of the dwarven race—and though he tried to appear composed, fear was etched into his face. His neatly braided silver beard and clenched fists at his sides trembled slightly.
"Your Majesty…" his voice was deep, but a tremble of dread remained. "We… lost contact with the last expedition team."
Silence fell like a shroud over the room.
"What do you mean, Captain Krim?" Tavon asked. His voice remained steady, but his eyes narrowed sharply.
Captain Krim swallowed hard before continuing in a lower tone. "Before the connection was lost, they managed to send one final message… something that—"
He paused as if still trying to comprehend what had truly occurred.
He stepped forward, hands trembling, and pulled a communication crystal from his belt—a magical artifact that links forces on the battlefield. A faint glow still flickered from within, signaling that one final recording remained inside.
The Emperor glanced sharply in his direction. "Play the final recording."
Captain Krim nodded and touched the crystal's surface. A bluish light shot forth, forming a magical projection. Static sounds filled the room, interspersed with panicked breathing.
— "We found someone…"
The voice was hurried, filled with terror.
— "She can… she can erase pages from our Arcana Codex! That's… that's not possible, is it? No Abyssian should—"
Then, another voice.
Not an Abyssian.
Not one of the expedition team.
A low whisper layered with a strange echo that bled into the recording.
— "You… belong to us."
Then came a shriek that pierced the room.
The scream of an Astral Voyager who had realized—too late—that they had walked into a trap.
— "G-Get us out! It's a trap! It's—AARRGH—"
The recording ended. The communication crystal dimmed, leaving a silence heavier than before.
I froze.
My ears were ringing. My heart pounded. The world around me suddenly blurred. I knew that voice… too well.
"Aster…" I whispered unconsciously.
My right hand clenched the edge of my robe. I lowered my head, letting my bangs fall slightly over my widened eyes.
Aster… no, it couldn't be.
She was one of the Astral Voyagers summoned a year ago. The one who saved me when I nearly died in Orindar. She was the one who always spoke with unwavering faith that this world could one day be free of the Abyssians.
She was my friend.
One of the few who saw me as an equal.
My lips parted, but my voice caught in my throat.
I couldn't accept this.
I just couldn't.
Tavon let out a heavy sigh before turning to look at Grandfather. "Your Majesty, it's likely that the expedition team has—"
"No!"
The word escaped my lips before I could think.
All heads turned to me at once.
I swallowed hard, trying to calm myself, but it was useless. "Aster and the others… they might not be dead. We have to send a rescue team!"
I looked at Grandfather with desperate hope, but before he could reply, another voice cut in.
"Absurd!"
I turned toward the source of the voice.
Dorian Aeneas, the Marquis of Solaraine, had risen from his seat. His jaw was clenched, and his narrowed eyes burned with visible anger.
"Think before you speak, Prince Elenio!" he snapped.
I tensed but stood my ground.
"Instead of wasting our forces to rescue a group that is likely already dead," he continued with clear irritation, "we should be focusing on the fifteen Abyssal Gates that continue to open! Every second wasted could mean another region falls!"
"But we don't know if they're truly dead!" I countered quickly. "They could still be holding out somewhere! We can't just abandon them—"
"And how many more must die just to search for them?!"
I fell silent.
"We've already lost too many Astral Voyagers!" Dorian pressed on, his voice laced with frustration. "Too many! They were summoned to fight the Abyssians, but hardly any survive beyond a year! And now you want to sacrifice even more soldiers for a squad that the Abyss may have already consumed?! It's madness!"
I clenched my fists tightly. "We have to try," I said, struggling to keep the tremor out of my voice.
Dorian merely scoffed. "That's the problem, Your Majesty," he said, turning to address Grandfather. "Your Crown Prince doesn't seem to understand reality."
The room fell silent again.
I turned to Grandfather.
He leaned back in his chair, the usual mirth in his eyes now replaced with weariness. His fingers tapped slowly against the table, indicating he was deep in thought.
My heart pounded louder.
What would Grandfather decide?
He let out a slow breath and turned his gaze to the Hierophants seated at the opposite end of the table. "Does the Temple have any information about an Abyssian capable of erasing pages from someone's Arcana Codex?"
The room remained quiet. The Temple dignitaries exchanged uncertain glances. Then, before any Hierophant could respond, a different voice rose from the end of the table.
"I will answer that, Your Majesty."
I turned.
Uncle Arcanist.
He sat calmly in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His sharp Golden eyes were fixed on Grandfather. "As far as we know, the Arcana Codex is a binding decree that links magic and soul. It is an absolute law."
He paused, letting his words settle into everyone's minds.
"If something exists that can alter or erase pages from someone's Codex," he continued, his tone deep and grim, "then the entity they encountered is exceedingly dangerous."
My chest sank.
I saw Grandfather nod slowly before shifting his gaze back across the room. There was exhaustion in his eyes but also an unshakable firmness.
"We will prioritize the fifteen Abyssal Gates."
In that instant, my blood turned cold.
I stood frozen. "Wait…"
I stepped forward, trying to make sense of his words. "So… we're not sending any help to an expedition team?"
Grandfather looked at me. His golden eyes were filled with something I couldn't quite name—not anger, not disappointment, but something far more piercing.
"No."
The world around me seemed to crumble.
I clenched my fists. "But… they could still be alive! We can't just abandon them—!"
"Nio," Grandfather's voice was gentler now but still resolute. "We cannot risk more lives."
"But it's Aster—" my voice cracked halfway.
Before I could finish, another voice echoed through the chamber, deep and thunderous like a beast's roar.
"We've wasted enough time here."
I turned toward the source.
A towering figure rose from his seat, looming over everyone else in the room.
Thalgar Wildfang, Duke of Savaranth.
His body was massive and muscular, far larger than any normal man. His fur was dark brown with black markings scattered across it. Though his face retained some human features, his fangs were visible each time he spoke. A pair of storm-gray eyes glared at me with blatant irritation.
"My Crown Prince we all knows that you are not just a naïve child who doesn't understand the battle, thinking we can waste our forces on a few people who might already be dead."
I stiffened.
"Thalgar is right," another voice followed. Dorian Aeneas leaned back in his chair, staring at me as though I were merely a nuisance in this meeting. "Crown Prince, with all due respect, you must stop acting childish."
"We're facing fifteen active Abyssal Gates!" Thalgar growled, his voice echoing through the room. "And one of them is in my territory! Even now, one of the Oaths of Ruin is there—on my land! Threatening my people!"
Several nobles nodded, their gazes agreeing with Thalgar's words.
"And you want us to waste time rescuing a few people who may not even be alive?" he continued. "How many more lives do you want to sacrifice, huh?"
I clenched my fists.
"They might still be alive! They need us!"
Dorian snorted, his tone filled with boredom. "And if they're already dead?" He stared at me sharply. "Will you still insist on sending troops just because you can't accept reality?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but Thalgar continued first.
"Do you think the lives of our soldiers are a game?!" His voice thundered. "If you want to save them, why don't you go there yourself?!"
I froze.
Dorian chuckled softly. "Don't be ridiculous, Duke. We all know the Crown Prince can't do that."
I could feel their gazes piercing me like invisible daggers. Every pair of eyes in this room stripped away my weaknesses, probing for any crack they could use to bring me down. I knew—I had always known—that I was unwanted here—as a crown prince without Arcana Codex, the strength to fight, and the courage to kill our enemies. And now, with my plea sounding like the stubborn whining of a child, they finally had the reason to voice what had always been whispered in the empire's walls.
Dorian's eyes scanned me from top to bottom, full of judgment.
"The Crown Prince doesn't even have an Arcana Codex, does he?" Dorian's voice was light, almost sounding like a joke, but I knew it wasn't just mockery. It was a deliberate insult, a calculated disdain. I could hear faint whispers filling the room, some of them not trying to hide their sneers. The laughter of the nobles in the Throne hall erupted.
Whispers spread around the room from the other nobles.
"Doesn't have an Arcana Codex…"
"…and not a fighter either…"
The words pierced deeper than they should have. I clenched my hands by my sides, trying to calm the storm inside me, but it was in vain. I wanted to shout, to defend myself, to say that I wouldn't let Aster die like that, that I wouldn't sit idly by while they all sat comfortably on their thrones, sacrificing more lives for plans they deemed more important. But a much more dangerous voice filled the room before I could speak.
"It seems you are all so ready to place your necks in the Guillotine."
Grandfather turned his gaze toward Dorian and Thalgar, his golden eyes flashing sharply. Usually, there was a softness there, a hint of humor in his gaze, but this time, all I saw was anger so cold it felt like a blade of ice forged in eternal fire. He didn't need to raise his voice, didn't need to bang his fist on the table, or shout for the people in the room to realize they had crossed a line.
In an instant, the air around me changed.
Slowly, a thick, glowing book appeared in the air—Arcana Codex, his own, floating before him. I could feel the overwhelming magical pressure pressing against my body, constricting my lungs, as though I had suddenly been thrown to the bottom of the ocean.
Grandfather didn't even raise a finger, yet the atmosphere in the room shifted drastically. The nobles, who had so boldly mocked me just moments ago, now appeared frozen, their bodies tense like wire pulled too tight. Dorian, who had been so confident, now seemed rigid, while Thalgar—the Duke of Savaranth, burly and wolf-like—let out a low growl, his fur bristling, his claws gripping the table, ready to defend himself from any potential attack.
"You just…" Grandfather leaned slightly into his chair, his voice still calm, but that calmness made it even more threatening. "Insulted my grandchild… in front of me?"
Dorian seemed to try to open his mouth to offer a defense, but before he could utter a single word, the marble floor beneath his feet began to glow faintly, forming an intricate transmutation pattern. In seconds, the surface beneath his seat exploded upward with kinetic energy from the alchemical reaction—propelling his body from the chair and sending him hurtling backward with terrifying speed. He crashed into a stone pillar at the far end of the room, the impact reverberating throughout the hall. The room shook from the collision, and some people jumped in shock. Dorian collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air.
Meanwhile, Grandfather remained calm, sitting on his throne, his face devoid of emotion. He only lifted two fingers, causing the pages in his Arcana Codex to turn, and the floor where Dorian knelt began to shift shape. The marble pieces fused, forming a gleaming spear with alchemical patterns still glowing along its blade. The tip now hovered millimeters from Dorian's neck, leaving him frozen.
No one dared to move.
I could hear someone holding their breath in the corner of the room.
Dorian himself appeared frozen, his eyes wide with shock. It had happened too quickly. No one had time to react—not even Thalgar, whose instincts were those of a predator, seemed sure whether to act or stay still. One move and the Marquis's head would be severed from his body.
"Y-Y-Your Majesty…" Dorian's voice trembled.
Thalgar tensed, but still, he said nothing. Everyone waited, holding their breath as if trying to understand whether they had just witnessed the end of a Marquis's life.
However, before that could genuinely happen, another voice sounded, breaking the tension that had nearly reached its peak.
"Your Majesty."
I turned and saw Tavon, the Captain of the Imperial Guard, stepping forward. He knelt with his head slightly bowed, but I could feel the firmness in his voice. His gaze was as cold and sharp as ever, showing no fear despite standing so close to the Emperor in his fury.
"We need the strength of the nobility in this war," he said softly. "Decapitating a Marquis in the middle of an official meeting… is not wise."
Grandfather didn't move.
For several seconds, no one dared speak.
The tension still filled the room as though the entire place could collapse.
Then, slowly, his Arcana Codex began to fade.
The spear that had been pointed at Dorian also gradually disappeared.
I could hear Dorian letting out a long sigh, still sitting on the floor with a face even paler than before.
Grandfather leaned back into his chair, but his gaze remained sharp—still filled with the kind of danger that could only come from someone who had spent his life on the battlefield.
"And who do you think you are? Daring to insult the imperial family," he said in a low voice that trembled with threat, "and I swear, if those disgraceful words leave your mouth again, I will make sure your neck rests beneath the blade of the guillotine."
No one responded.
No one dared to say a word.
I lowered my head slightly, trying to calm my breath.
I rarely saw Grandfather this furious.
The tension still hung in the room, as if the air had yet to move freely after the explosion of Grandfather's wrath. The nobles remained in their places, some still trying to catch their breath after witnessing an event nearly ending in execution.
However, this was not the time to remain swallowed in fear. One of the temple members finally spoke up with a single heavy exhale, attempting to steer the meeting back on course.
The Hierophant, standing beside the long table, stepped forward. His figure was tall, his body cloaked in a white-golden robe embroidered with faintly glowing sacred runes. A hood partially covered his face, but the creases on his forehead and the sharp lines around his mouth showed the impatience he was trying to contain.
He was Hierophant Marcellius Nohr, one of the highest elders in the Solaris Temple, tasked with overseeing holy rituals and maintaining the balance between the temple and the empire.
Marcellius's voice was deep and heavy when he spoke as if each word carried an invisible weight.
"My respects, Your Majesty and Crown Prince, we have a matter beyond the issues previously mentioned."
Grandfather turned to him, waiting for the Hierophant to continue.
"Some members of the imperial family have refused to offer their Mana sacrifice."
The room was once again enveloped in silence.
I could feel a new tension rising, this time not from Grandfather's threat but from a truth that had been quietly hidden. I sharpened my hearing, trying to catch more information before anyone responded.
"Refused?" Grandfather finally spoke, his voice still flat but with a dangerous undertone.
Marcellius nodded slowly. "Yes, Your Majesty. The other princes and princesses feel… that this is unfair." The Hierophant sighed, then finally revealed the heart of the matter. "They question why they must risk their lives and their Arcana Codex for the same ritual while the Crown Prince is not making an equal sacrifice."
My heart stopped for a moment.
I could feel all eyes in the room turning back to me. Not with the blatant scorn from Dorian earlier, but with questioning gazes—as if they had all just realized a new flaw they hadn't thought of before.
I swallowed hard.
Of course… this wasn't surprising.
"They are right!" An old man with blond hair and a curled mustache raised his hand and stood up from his seat, his protruding belly slightly hindering his movement. "Your Majesty, I implore you! I will not allow my grandson to suffer injustice!"
"Viscount Dregg, do you have something to convey?" Tavon gestured, inviting the man named Dregg to elaborate further.
"My grandson is lying critically ill in the temple's medical ward due to Erosion on his Arcana Codex from excessive Mana usage," his face appeared angry, his mustache and belly shaking with his body movements.
I, sitting beside the emperor, lowered my head. The familiar unease that had lingered since the beginning of the meeting and had worsened over time continued to disturb my thoughts. I glanced at my grandfather seated next to me his face, strained with suppressed emotion, was evident. Carefully, I whispered so only he could hear.
"Grandfather," I inquired in a low voice, "who exactly is that Viscount?"
The emperor turned slowly, his eyes scanning my face before he responded in an almost inaudible tone. "Cedric Dregg… he's not originally from Midgaria. He's an Astral Voyager and arrived here with his wife and child thirteen years ago. After successfully resolving the food crisis caused by the war in the eastern region, I granted him the title of Viscount, and I married his daughter."
Two revelations nearly made my eyes pop out: first, that the Viscount was an Astral Voyager, and second, the confession from this old man that he had married that Viscount's daughter.
I stared at my grandfather, mouth agape. "Wait a moment..." I said voice restrained. "Did you just say you married his daughter?"
The emperor merely nodded lightly as if it were a trivial matter. "Yes. His daughter is beautiful, intelligent, and—"
"But, Grandfather!" I whispered sharply, glancing at Viscount Dregg, who was still speaking passionately in the center of the room. "Doesn't that mean... the Viscount is... your father-in-law?"
Grandfather raised his eyebrows, appearing contemplative. "Yes, technically that's the truth. I suppose I forgot to mention that earlier."
"Forgot?" I nearly leaped from my seat but quickly restrained myself. "Grandfather, that's not a minor detail to forget! Look at your father-in-law now, demanding justice with a tone that threatens me!"
Grandfather chuckled softly, his smile almost sly. "Yes, I suppose that's because his wife died a few years ago, his only daughter had to enter the castle as a concubine, and now his only grandson is on the brink of death in the temple's medical ward due to Arcana Codex erosion from using Mana within unreasonable limits."
I looked at my grandfather with eyes full of anger and confusion. "I think all of Viscount's anger—his emotional outburst in the middle of this meeting—stems from the fact that you've mercilessly exploited his remaining family?"
Grandfather tilted his head as if considering my words. "That's one perspective," he said, his tone almost too light. "However, I prefer to call it... strategy. Everything he has now, including his title, is thanks to the empire. It's his responsibility to reciprocate."
I nearly exploded upon hearing those words. "Reciprocate?" I whispered sharply. "His grandson is your child! He has a life! You can't treat humans like chess pieces!"
Grandfather looked at me, this time with a more serious gaze. "Elenio, this world doesn't care about idealism. Only actions that yield results are respected. This empire would have collapsed long ago if I hadn't made tough decisions. Do you understand?"
I wanted to argue, but before I could say anything, the sound of a table being slammed halted our conversation. We both turned simultaneously, only to see Viscount Dregg continuing to voice his arguments with a face full of anger, yet his eyes somehow appeared desperate.
I let out a long sigh, trying to calm myself, but one more thing pushed my annoyance to the limit. "And are you really that short of concubines that every woman you meet must adorn your harem?"
Grandfather chuckled louder this time, his voice low but full of mischief. "Ever heard the saying, 'every woman has a secret'?"
I frowned. "What does that have to do with your harem, Grandfather?"
His smile widened, sending a chill down my spine. "The more mysterious a woman's secret is, the more fascinating it is to uncover. My hobby is collecting those hidden mysteries—" he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping like a conspirator, "—and unveiling them slowly. You could say it's art within art, Elenio."
I massaged my temples. "So, your harem is more like… a secret gallery?"
Grandfather let out a soft laugh, clearly satisfied with my conclusion. "You could call it that. Every woman there holds a secret, and I—as emperor and a mystery lover—keep and protect those secrets."
I looked at him in disbelief. "Grandfather, you're making your harem sound like a secret library, and you're its librarian."
He nodded proudly. "Beautiful analogy, isn't it? You are my clever grandson."
I stared at him, torn between wanting to laugh or cry. "Grandfather, I'm not even sure I want to live long enough to begin to understand the way your mind works."
"You'll understand one day," he said while patting my shoulder. "For now, just focus on your task. Oh, and don't forget, Cedric is a good man. He's just overly emotional because of his wife's passing. He'll forgive you if you smile and look innocent."
I stared at my grandfather doubtfully. "Last time I took your advice, I ended up being kidnapped by a noble family that opposed you, old man."
Grandfather chuckled softly, his low voice light but full of mischief. "Ah, yes, that was indeed an unfortunate incident. But look on the bright side, Nio. You learned how to escape from a dungeon without anyone's help. That's a skill not every prince has."
I looked at him flatly, trying to hold back my anger. "Grandfather, I barely ate for three days back then. And I was nearly eaten by their pet wolf!"
"Oh, yes," Grandfather replied with a nod. "That wolf was part of their tactic to scare you. I heard you managed to calm it down with a piece of stale bread. That was a very clever move."
"Focus on the current issue, old man," I grunted. "You always know how to steer a conversation elsewhere."
Grandfather only laughed in response to my statement, his laughter fading as another voice boomed.
"I just want justice for my grandson." The eyes of the Astral Voyager named Cedric stared sharply at the laughing emperor as if trying to bore a hole through the emperor's head with his gaze.
Those words made the emperor and me turn to him, halting our earlier grandfather-grandson interaction. But it didn't take long before we turned our heads again.
Brakk!!
The sound of a table being slammed interrupted the conversation in the room. "Tch." Finnian, with an irritated expression, looked ready to explode. "Another old man who loves his grandson."
Finnian didn't stand up dramatically. instead, he placed his foot on the table. I bet the loud bang earlier came from his foot hitting the table.
A girl I recognized, sitting beside him, lightly tugged at the edge of Finnian's shirt to stop his arrogant behavior. That girl was Zura. No wonder Zura was the vice-captain of the same battalion as Finnian, evident from their bright red cloaks.
"Listen, old man! Your grandson is a member of the imperial family! he receives facilities and treatment befitting royalty. Consider his current condition as payment for all the privileges he's received!"
"At least your grandson has something he can do to contribute to this crisis," he continued.
I knew that statement was aimed to stab at me, one of the royal family members who couldn't contribute anything. Even in terms of Mana supply, I was merely the emperor's mascot, standing beside him while the other imperial family risked their lives to ensure the Mana supply.
"Aside from the payment, I agree with Prince Finnian." Cedric's sharp gaze now turned to me, along with his anger. "What will the crown prince do to contribute to this crisis?!"
I remained silent, not daring to speak because I was sure anything coming out of my mouth would trigger their anger. I felt like drilling a hole in the old man beside me for worsening the situation by marrying the daughter of an Astral Voyager.
Cedric continued to stare at me, his eyes like two blazing embers. Under that gaze, I felt like even the palace walls could melt. The nobles in the room now watched me with the same look as if they wanted to see a miracle I would perform. Meanwhile, my grandfather's face showed he was deep in thought, trying to find a solution.
I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. How could I deny the truth that I had no power? I was merely a shadow of the royal family, a disabled crown prince without any significant abilities.
"I... I will do my best to support all of you," I finally said, though my voice sounded weaker than I had hoped. "I will find a way to help resolve this crisis."
Cedric snorted with disdain. "You just Barking" he exclaimed. "We need action, not empty promises!"
"I-I u-understand," I said, trying to remain calm despite the turmoil in my chest. "I will find a way to contribute. I promise."
The atmosphere in the room grew more tense. I could feel the pressure from every corner, from the hopeful and disappointed gazes. However, behind all that, I knew this was the time to change. I had to find a way to prove myself, to show that I was worthy of being the crown prince and not just an empty symbol. At the very least, I shouldn't let the people doubt the emperor's decision.
"Of all our victories, most of the strategies were devised by the crown prince," Tavon spoke up with his deep voice. "The crown prince also played a role in the food crisis that hit several regions over the past two years."
"The crown prince must step onto the battlefield alongside the emperor to protect this empire!" another noble said. "Not to play the role of a war Theorist or a farmer!"
The room's atmosphere grew even more heated. Tavon, who had long served as battalion captain and the emperor's loyal guard, tried to defend me, but his words only triggered a stronger reaction from the nobles. I could see some of them nodding in agreement that my place should be on the battlefield, not behind a desk with maps and books.
"Have you all forgotten who saved your cities from destruction?" Tavon continued firmly. "The Crown Prince has made great contributions in defending this empire, even if it was not always with a sword in hand."
However, Cedric and the others refused to listen. "This empire doesn't need a crown prince who can only think. We need a leader who can stand at the front lines, setting an example for our soldiers!" another noble shouted angrily.
I felt the tremor of anger and disappointment well up inside me. They had no idea how heavy my burden was, how hard it was to bear the weight of the empire and their scorn. I never asked to be born this way; I, too, wanted to step onto the field and fight bravely like my brothers or predecessors.
"Enough!" the emperor's voice finally echoed through the room, cutting off the commotion. Everyone immediately fell silent, turning to the grandfather, who stood with undeniable authority. "The Crown Prince has proven himself in many ways. Everyone has a different role in defending this empire. Not all battles are fought on the battlefield. Without sound strategies, without solutions to domestic issues, we will not survive."
"That still doesn't compare to the other imperial family, who risks they life on the battlefield!" Dorian spoke again, seemingly undeterred by grandfather's earlier rebuke.
The quarrel in the Throne Hall continued to suffocate. Grandfather massaged his temples. My mind kept spinning, trying to find a way to mediate the dispute—if I were lucky, maybe I could prove myself a little, too. But before my mouth could move to speak, Uncle Arcanist spoke up.
"If you all want the Crown Prince to contribute on the field so badly..." the long-haired man removed his fogged-up glasses, damp with sweat. "Then I propose the Crown Prince be included in the next Astral Voyager investigation expedition team."
Uncle Arcanist's words brought a stunned silence to the room. Grandfather's eyes widened in anger, his teeth clenched, but the old man seemed to be holding back his rage.
All the eyes now turned to Uncle Arcanist—and for good reason. Suggesting someone like me, who lacked an Arcana Codex, be sent to the battlefield was no different than premeditated murder.
Several nobles' eyes turned to me, awaiting my response to Uncle Arcanist's proposal, but no words would come out. Everything felt numb, as though my mouth refused to speak. My silence, of course, led the nobles to resume their whispers. Painful gossip—even if spoken in hushed tones—I could still hear every word they said.