Chapter 244
“Your Highness.”
“Ugh…”
“It’s time to get up.”
Xiaosi softly roused Jin from his sleep. As always, he knelt quietly by the bedside, his voice gentle and cautious.
Jin buried his face deeper into the pillow, whining in that half-asleep, half-grumpy way only a child could. No matter how much of a royal he was, some instincts just couldn’t be helped. Xiaosi watched him silently for a moment before speaking again.
“Lord Ian woke up at dawn.”
“Huh?”
“He requested that Your Highness prepare immediately and come to the study. He said there’s something he needs to ask of you.”
Jin’s half-closed eyes snapped open. The fog of sleep vanished as if doused with cold water. He threw off the covers and slipped on his slippers in one swift motion.
“Lord Ian’s awake? Is he feeling alright?”
“He seemed fine. Your Highness, shall I prepare your clothes for you?”
“Oh, right. Wait—bring the wash water! The wash water.”
Jin was unusually flustered, rushing about in a way that wasn’t typical for him.
Meanwhile, Xiaosi calmly laid out Jin’s clothes, checked the temperature of the wash water, and neatly arranged the child’s grooming tools.
Jin sat at the edge of the bed, watching quietly. That brief pause helped calm the excitement bubbling inside him.
“What did Lord Ian want to ask of me?”
“I didn’t hear the details, but it seemed to be something Your Highness needs to handle personally.”
“I see.”
As he was being dressed, Jin kept glancing toward the door. Though he tried to keep his composure, the attendants could tell he was restless. Their movements grew more hurried in response.
“Your Highness, you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
“Xia, let’s go.”
With a composed gesture, Jin dismissed the attendants and left the bedroom. At first, his footsteps were soft and measured, but gradually they grew firmer and more determined. By the time they reached Ian’s study, he was breathing a little heavier.
Creak.
The door was left half-open, likely because of the constant comings and goings due to work. Jin cautiously made a sound and peeked inside.
“Lord Ian?”
“Your Highness.”
Ian sat at his desk, a blanket draped over his shoulders. Though his complexion was still pale, it was a marked improvement from when he had been coughing up blood.
He set down some documents and greeted Jin warmly.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
“Good, good morning!”
“Yes. I heard from Captain Hale’s report. You did great at the assembly. I’m truly grateful you accomplished what I could not.”
Jin’s cheeks dimpled slowly, like a flower bud blooming or the sky turning rosy at sunset. He smiled brightly, showing his teeth.
“No need for thanks! Are you feeling alright?”
“Thanks to you.”
Ian’s gaze flicked toward the corner sofa, where Captain Hale lay sprawled, half out of it. He hadn’t been relieved for hours, having been infused with magic to keep him going—but of course, the child had no idea.
“So, what is it you wanted to ask?”
“Before the judiciary sets a trial date for Hyman, there’s much to be done. As you know, the granting and revocation of noble titles is the exclusive right of His Majesty the Emperor.”
In the early days of the empire, when the emperor’s authority was strongest and the nation’s foundations were still shaky, titles were frequently granted and revoked. It was a way to demonstrate imperial favor.
“As generations passed, the country stabilized, and land, titles, and noble privileges became hereditary. Unless involved in serious crimes, the Emperor cannot strip nobles of their status without cause.”
Rustle.
Ian slid several documents across the desk. The top one was titled: “Order for Temporary Revocation of Titles.” At the bottom were the seals of the Prime Minister and Ian himself.
“Since the trial is imminent and the charges against Hyman and his faction are clear, the prevailing opinion is to impose legal sanctions in advance. If Your Highness permits, the Prime Minister will carry out these measures—freezing assets, lifting limits on detention days, enforcing reductions in private armies, and so on. This will put pressure on the nobles from multiple angles.”
This wasn’t limited to Hyman alone. It was a coordinated strike against all his allied forces.
Especially the forced reduction of private armies—it was an effective way to prevent any potential armed conflict.
“Is this feasible?”
Ian’s question was whether such a decision, difficult even for the Emperor, could be made by his proxies. He dipped his pen in ink, signaling readiness.
“Yes. I believe it is possible. But it requires the approval of Your Highness, the sole heir to the imperial line.”
Who would dare oppose the stripping of noble titles? This wasn’t a power struggle between the throne and the aristocracy—it was a unilateral purge, a consolidation of power. Anyone who interfered would risk their life.
“The Prime Minister and the administration are only waiting on Your Highness’s decision.”
“The administration as well?”
“Yes. The confiscation of noble assets will benefit the treasury. The Imperial Defense Department is awaiting the nobles’ private armies and weapons, and the Ministry of Culture desires their art collections.”
Everyone in the palace was watching closely, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. If you break the stiff neck at the right time, what better example could there be?
Jin picked up the pen before Ian and, without hesitation, moved to sign. But Ian’s hand lightly stopped him.
“Your Highness.”
“Hm?”
“A signature carries your name and honor. No matter how trustworthy the person presenting it, you must not sign lightly. Examine every letter, every nuance, and confirm thoroughly.”
Ah, Jin scratched his cheek with the pen tip and nodded.
“Take your time reading it, and ask if anything is unclear.”
“Okay, I understand.”
The child sat beside the sprawled Hale, flipping through the documents. The young emperor probably didn’t realize this was the first official task he’d undertaken as crown prince—soon to be recorded in history as ‘Jin Verosion’s’ debut.
And yet, it was an order for the temporary revocation of titles. At just ten years old, he was already recorded as the one who subdued the central nobility.
“Um, Lord Ian?”
Jin raised his hand shyly, as if stuck on the first page.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Could you explain this part?”
Just as Ian was about to stand and lower his blanket, the door suddenly swung open, and a mage burst in.
Bang!
Clatter!
Jin froze, and Hale reflexively shielded the child. But when they recognized the intruder as a former mage comrade, relief washed over them.
“Patrick. What’s all this commotion?”
“L-Lord Ian, there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Patrick was one of the traitors mentioned in Gale’s note. Guards and mages who followed quickly subdued him, but he struggled, clutching the doorframe.
“Lord Ian! Lord Ian!”
“Damn it, Patrick! You’re only making things worse!”
“I’m not a traitor! Really, I’m not!”
“The Crown Prince is here! Do you intend to commit more crimes?”
“Please, listen to me! I beg you!”
What on earth was going on? Jin covered his mouth with the documents, eyes wide with shock. Ian’s expression remained unreadable.
“…Enough. That’s enough.”
“Lord Ian! I swear, I’m not!”
“Patrick, if you’re not a traitor, then cooperate with the investigation. You belong to the Magic Department—you know better than anyone how capable your comrades are. And even if you were a traitor, I understand. Pursuing self-interest is human nature.”
Ian thought of Crony and the other betrayers. They must have believed they were choosing a better path under their own judgment.
But—
“So understand me as well, and accept the consequences.”
That was Ian’s decision.
“Lord Ian, please, please…”
“Take responsibility for your choices. Those who keep their loyalty are foolish and don’t know how to seek advantage. If you want to gain, you must also be prepared to lose. Patrick.”
Patrick fell to his knees, begging, but Ian’s tone was firm. The watching mages sighed awkwardly.
“If you truly cannot remain in the Magic Department, you may leave the palace. But you know what that means.”
Patrick was a talented individual, well aware of palace politics and gifted with magic. If cast out for loyalty issues, he could become a dangerous threat. Tracking devices and magic seals were unavoidable.
“Take him away.”
“Yes, my apologies. Patrick, get up.”
Sniffle, sob.
Patrick was dragged out by his comrades, and Hale just clicked his tongue behind the sofa. Jin set the documents down, pressing his lips together quietly.
“Your Highness, I apologize.”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“…Regarding the surcharge, it refers to the additional amount imposed under the National Tax Collection Act for violations. For nobles, it’s usually 10%, but for others, it can be up to 40%.”
Ian explained the part Jin had asked about. The child nodded repeatedly but clearly struggled to focus. Ian knelt down and studied his face carefully.
“Were you very surprised?”
“I was surprised, but it’s not because of that.”
“Then what is it?”
Jin smiled awkwardly.
“There will come a time when I, like Lord Ian, will have to do the same.”
The Imperial Palace—a place both beautiful and cruel by name alone. Humanity withers before power, and obedience disguised as order festers and rots overnight.
“I realized that, and it caught me off guard.”
Jin knew that the day would come when he’d have to turn away even those who had once been his own, whether by choice or by force. Ian met the child’s gaze and fell silent for a moment.
“That’s right. The time will surely come. When it does, don’t forget, don’t hesitate—cut it off.”
“I understand.”
“But until then, while I’m here, I will do it in your stead.”
Ian smiled gently. He was a child who had lived through history. Because Jin existed, Ian existed. He would do his utmost to help, for as long as he could.
Jin’s dimples deepened once more. The child gripped his pen and carefully read through the documents.
The soft scratch of pen on paper.
Then, with his own judgment and will, he signed. When Jin handed the papers to Ian, Ian bowed respectfully as he accepted them.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Do well.”
“Yes. Is there anyone outside?”
Knock, knock.
“Yes, Lord Ian.”
Ian tightened the leather strap around the sealed orders. The rolled documents were locked away in a wooden barrel.
“Deliver this to the Administration.”
“Yes, understood. Oh, and Lord Romandro has woken up. Lord Berrick keeps crawling out into the hallway and rolling around.”
“Looks like they’re finally getting better.”
The mage shrugged in disbelief. Not some wild animal, yet constantly escaping the room? Ian gestured for her to leave, and she bowed before turning away.
“What should I do now?”
“Hmm. The Administration and the Prime Minister will carry out the execution. We’ll wait for news and then act. But before that—”
“Before that?”
“Just leave it to me.” Jin’s eyes sparkled.
“They say the Ruthwena delegation has arrived. Since you are the heir apparent, it would be best for you to meet them personally.”
Since he was still laid up with a stomach ache, it was only natural for Ian to check on his condition himself.
“And Your Highness, have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“That Lady Delaina’s condition is quite serious.”
“So grave that even her attendants can barely enter.”
“…It would be best to see her as soon as possible.”
Jin hesitated at Ian’s words. Wasn’t that a roundabout way of saying the crisis had come? The child’s breath trembled faintly, but Ian pretended not to notice.
“Alright. I understand.”
Ian reached out his hand to leave, and Jin clasped it firmly.
In the bloody winds of the Imperial Palace, steady and unshaken.
Tap, tap, tap!
“Your Highness Jin’s approval signature has been received.”
“Oh, it’s here! The order has been authorized!”
“Contact the Imperial Defense Department and the Palace Guard.”
“From now on, proceed to the named noble houses and issue orders to strip their titles. Arm yourselves! Open the gates wide!”
“It would be best to send Captain Jarrett to Haiman.”
“How many locations are involved?”
“Including Haiman, seven noble houses in the capital.”
Shortly after receiving Jin’s signature, the Administration scrambled to carry out the orders. As the command was shared and relayed through each department, the Imperial Palace moved as one for the first time in a long while.
It had been ages since they’d pointed their swords outward instead of inward. The palace soldiers marched out of the main gate in perfect formation.
Their destination: the mansions of the central nobles, the heart of Haiman.