Chapter 285

“First, I think we should discuss whether it is right to strip the Bistor Family of its eligibility to inherit the throne.”

It was inappropriate for the most likely candidate to sit in the presiding chair of a meeting meant to elect the Emperor. So Duke Ganielo, conveniently assigned to that seat, raised the agenda in order of priority.

Seated around the conference table were Grand Duchess Moriah, Duke Ganielo, Baron Mirham, and the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Maindulante. None of the three—other than the Maindulante couple—had either the will or the power to oppose their wishes. In effect, the meeting was a “presentation.”

Still, no one present was unaware of how important such formalities were.

“To determine whether or not they should be disqualified, we must first clarify whether the qualification exists. Regardless of the falsehoods mixed into the Bistor Family’s initial claim to the throne, it is a fact that they once allowed humanity to prosper on land that had been dominated by monsters. And since they established an administrative system and maintained peace for hundreds of years, it seems true that the Bistor Family has held the qualifications to inherit the throne.”

Baron Mirham, visiting White Swan Castle and meeting Cledwyn and Nerys for the first time, spoke in a calm voice—or rather, in a voice that tried very hard to sound calm.

The Mirham Family had been founded separately by the Jeweled-Eyed Princess who could not become Emperor at the beginning of the empire’s formation, and since they had long since split from the Bistor Family, they were not royalty. However, because they frequently intermarried with the Imperial Family and had an old lineage, the head of the house held the status of Prince-Elector.

The Mirham Family had not taken part in the war at all. Aside from the family’s symbolism, they never left their small territory in the first place. They had no power to lend anyone. They simply wanted mercy from the victor.

At first, his words seemed to argue only that the Bistor Family had legitimate qualifications to rule. But everyone present knew what his reasoning would allow next.

The claim that the Prince-Electors’ act of electing an Emperor was legitimate.

Whatever happened six hundred years ago, it was the Imperial Bistor—or rather, the “Empire,” whatever name it might bear in the future—that ruled the continent. Everyone knew there was nothing to gain by dismantling the Empire now. Disputes would erupt, and countless people would die.

Then wouldn’t the most peaceful course be for the person with influence to inherit the seat of the dead, as it already existed?

With all of that understood, Madam Moriah said nothing, and Cledwyn smiled faintly.

“Certainly, Bistor did not ‘completely’ lack merit. Humans benefited, and there were virtuous rulers among past Emperors. The Empire’s system itself isn’t entirely rotten, either. Since this concerns people’s lives, I agree we should prioritize practicality over justification.”

“Yes. But as you know, the late Emperor was a foolish man who indulged in pleasure and neglected the people, and the Crown Prince plunged the entire Empire into misery through his folly. At present, the direct line has two Princesses still alive.”

Princess Camille had yet to be removed from the secret chamber. She seemed to be alive, but no one could distinguish her from a corpse—yet, strangely, her breathing never stopped.

Dragon Kion said Camille was sealed in that state. She would likely spend near-eternal years trapped in the most terrible pain she remembered. Once Cledwyn became more adept at wielding the power of the Gray Jeweled Eyes, he would be able to release her and let her die peacefully.

Cledwyn snorted.

“If you bring up the First Princess, countless people will rise up. Since we’ve officially announced what she has done, even if each victimized family sends only one person, the Empire will be split in half.”

“……Yes. Therefore, it is difficult to consider Princess Camille a candidate for the next Emperor. And Princess Izet—”

“Princess Izet said she would give up her family name. Here is a notarized document.”

At Nerys’s gesture, the official standing behind her unfolded a lavishly decorated sheet of paper for everyone to see. It would be genuine anyway, but even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter, so everyone merely pretended to glance at the memorandum.

Duke Ganielo continued.

“Most collateral members of the Imperial Family died in the Pellena conquest operation. Grand Duchess, does the Bistor Family have any successors we are unaware of?”

“No. As the most senior living member of the Bistor Family, I guarantee there is no such person. And given the folly the direct Imperial Family has displayed, it seems difficult to argue for the legitimacy of succession any longer.”

Madam Moriah delivered the most important statement she had come here to make.

Even though she would be relinquishing the splendid authority of being the Imperial Family’s elder, there was no regret on her face. If anything, the faintest smile seemed to surface.

“Then do all those who hold the status of Prince-Elector agree to strip the Bistor Family of the right to inherit the throne in the future, while maintaining the Empire itself?”

Duke Ganielo asked. Everyone in the room raised their right hand in agreement. The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Maindulante cast a single vote together.

“Then we will need a family to inherit the throne.”

At the Duke’s question, everyone raised their right hand again.

The Duke grinned broadly.

“Then, for the first time since the beginning of history, the Imperial Family of the Empire will change its surname. It seems to me there is only one suitable candidate. What are your opinions?”

No one objected.

After only a few more words, all the Prince-Electors—except the Maindulante Grand Duke and Duchess—rose from their seats and pledged their loyalty to the new Emperor and Empress.

❖ ❖ ❖

Nellusion could no longer remember when he had last breathed clean air.

He stared blankly at his parents, who were in the same room yet sitting as far from him as possible—and as far from each other as possible, too. The memories that had been so tangled until recently were gradually settling into place as the memories of this life.

Which meant Nellusion was stable enough to compare his ruined present with his previous, brilliant life.

‘How absurd.’

A family once powerful enough to declare independence from the Empire had vanished without a trace.

The parents who once wore crowns now looked as shabby as beggars.

A family that once cherished one another had come to hate and slander each other, until they could no longer even bear to look each other in the face.

Now Nellusion understood why. It was all because of one girl.

The kind, foolish Nerys Truydd—used and discarded without a second thought.

‘I didn’t want you to die.’

Nellusion truly believed that. He had loved her in his previous life, and he loved her in this one. He couldn’t help being drawn to her.

In his previous life, because she had liked him so purely.

In this life, because she had been reborn as a shining jewel that no one could help but love.

But what could he do now to turn anything around? She would demand the full price for the blood debt of her previous life.

And she had even succeeded in settling that debt.

“Nellusion.”

His father, Duke Elandria—no, the man who was now simply “Alkides”—spoke to his son in a chilling voice.

“What are you thinking about?”

Alkides did not trust his son in the slightest after Nellusion had nearly killed him. So he pressed him at intervals like this, asking, ‘Are you plotting something again to betray me?’

The Duchess Elandria—now simply “Kibele”—snapped at her husband.

“Be quiet! How many times is that today? How many times do you want my son to give you the same answer!”

“You heard what the Grand Duke said too! If he kills the two of us, that bastard can live! He’s exactly the kind of man who would do it!”

“That’s a lie! The Grand Duke must have lied! Do you think our clever son would fall for something like that!”

“You’re just scared, so you’ve crawled into that corner!”

Kibele, who had been keeping as much distance as possible from ‘both of them,’ flinched. Nellusion smiled bitterly as he listened.

Not long after the Grand Duke said, “If you kill the other two, I’ll let you live,” the three of them were imprisoned in the same room. They said it was because there were too many prisoners, but Nellusion could see what the Grand Duke wanted as clearly as if it were laid in his palm.

Since you used and killed Nerys in the name of family, he would destroy that affectionate family.

‘I don’t need it.’

That close-knit family was already over. Hadn’t Nellusion himself thoroughly ruined it long before the war even ended?

The experiences of both lives, along with frustration sharp enough to cut and contemplation deep enough to settle, made everything clearer than before.

From a young age, everything around him had been trivial. He was born a good liar—so good that even he half-believed himself—but the truth was, the world was too trivial.

While everyone believed the perfect Nellusion must be happy, he had always vaguely felt something missing. Neither family, nor wealth, nor others’ praise meant much to him. But because he didn’t want to admit that, he couldn’t ask himself why.

So he pursued. Higher. More. He convinced himself that one day the world would stop feeling trivial.

Elandria’s independence was the goal he had set—the highest position he could realistically reach. Frankly, to him, family was like hair or clothing: not bad if it was useful, but not worth crying over if it was gone. Valentin had seemed to sense that faintly, but—

“You bastard who killed my brother!”

“How many times do I have to say it? It wasn’t me!”

As Alkides and Kibele fought, footsteps approached. Nellusion lifted dead eyes toward the bars.

When he saw the face that appeared, his expression twisted.

“I came to give you some newly acquired news.”

Cledwyn Maindulante—Nerys’s husband.

His very existence was more unbearable than this prison. Nellusion understood now. What he had needed wasn’t a crown, but Nerys. The foolish him in his previous life had realized that too late, and this was the result.

“What is it?”

“The news that your sister is, surprisingly, still alive.”

“Our Valen?”

Kibele rushed to the bars, delight flaring across her face. Once, she had lived a life where everyone catered to her whims; now she looked so ruined she wouldn’t stand out even if thrown among common death-row inmates.

Cledwyn remembered well what she had done to Nerys. With a cold face, he announced,

“She’s tending pigs at a monastery in the mountains near Carten. She’s being abused by the monastery’s maid. What should we do? If you feel sorry for her, I can have her brought here. So the family can share one room together.”

Kibele screamed in despair. Her precious, precious daughter—her cute child who should have lived doing nothing but what she pleased!

Cledwyn also remembered well what Valentin had done to Nerys. He nodded.

“I’ll take that as meaning you don’t want her. Then I’ll tell her her mother asked her to serve at that monastery while she was alive.”

While she was alive?

Kibele screamed again at that phrasing. Cledwyn frowned slightly.

“I’m not saying I’ll kill her. I’m saying she’s already contracted a disease from being beaten so badly. In any case, I’ve shown you kindness by telling you, so I’ll be going. Enjoy yourselves together—the three of you.”

He left just like that.

As the footsteps faded, Nellusion thought, ‘I knew it.’ Cledwyn wanted the Elandria Family to become miserable without leaving anyone behind. And he would get his wish.

“It’s all your fault!”

Alkides, who still held affection for Valentin, kicked Nellusion in a burst of rage. Kibele didn’t stop him. She stood there, frozen, feeling sick.

Nellusion did not resist. Alkides grew bolder, kicking and striking him again and again. After a while, as the violence continued, Kibele finally shrieked and lunged at her husband.

Nellusion closed his eyes.

Not long after, the guards reported that all three members of the Elandria Family looked as though they were on the verge of death. And before the day was over, three bodies were carried out of the prison.