TGW Chapter 16 Part 4

 

The soft music that had been playing throughout the banquet hall came to a halt. Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of drums began to resonate.

The people who had been freely laughing and chatting just moments before became tense. The herald did not announce the entrance from the outer doors where anyone could come and go, but from the corridor leading deeper into the Imperial Palace.

"The Emperor! The Red King! They have arrived!"

The noise that filled the banquet hall instantly fell silent. The nobles put down their wine glasses and straightened their postures.

The Emperor entered the banquet hall with the Red King. The fur mantles draped over each of their shoulders trailed behind them, sweeping the floor as they walked.

The Red King wore a tiara that resembled a crown, but there was nothing on the Emperor's head. The Emperor’s crown was the Crown of the Sacred Tree, which is worn only at the coronation. The Emperor does not wear crowns made of gold or any other material, signifying that only the divine exists above the Emperor's head.

The Imperial couple made their way to the seats prepared for them, following the path cleared by the crowd. Unlike the previous two days of the banquet, there was something different today: two seats were raised on a few layers of marble and adorned with jewels in a place where they could overlook the entire hall.

The nobles entering the banquet hall today immediately knew who these seats were for.

The Emperor and Empress took their seats. The first to approach and pay their respects were their children, the Silver King and the Iron King. Afterward, the Empire's dukes came forward, one by one, to greet them.

There were a total of six ducal families in the Empire. Five of them were present in person, while one was represented by the heir. Only the Duke of Bless's family remained far away in their estate, as per their family tradition.

Although they had a residence in the capital, their main base was always in their estate. Even for special events, it was rare for the Duke to visit the capital personally.

After the dukes finished their greetings, the Emperor personally pointed to the next person.

"Chieftain Tuisa."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I pay homage to the great ruler of the Empire."

"Did you enjoy the banquet?"

"I am overwhelmed by the hospitality shown to me as you bid us farewell."

"Was there any discomfort while staying in the Empire?"

"I am simply moved that Your Majesty has shown concern for even the smallest matters. I am returning home having received great hospitality. I will be sure to convey Your Majesty's goodwill to the King upon my return. As a token of gratitude, I wish to present a gift."

"We have already received many gifts."

"Please accept this one as well, Your Majesty. It is a gift from the heart."

"If you are so insistent."

The chieftain turned around. From amidst the crowd, a man completely covered in a black cloak, from head to toe, stepped forward. The man had appeared alongside the chieftain today and had been standing silently beside him the entire time.

When the man removed his cloak, armor was revealed. It was the same bizarre black armor seen during the reception for the envoys. His face remained hidden under a helmet. The man walked beside the chieftain and knelt before the Emperor.

"A person is your gift to me?"

"Haha, no, Your Majesty. The gift is the armor he wears."

"Armor?"

"This is no ordinary armor, Your Majesty. The material of this armor is the hide of a Desert Demon."

The eyes of the onlookers widened.

"The hide of a Desert Demon? I did not know such a thing could be made into armor. Is it any different from leather or metal armor?"

"The warriors of the desert wear this armor when hunting Desert Demons. I assure you, if an Imperial knight wears this armor, their abilities will be doubled, as they need not concern themselves with defense and can focus solely on attacking."

The expressions of the dukes who commanded their own knights, in particular, sharpened at this.

"If permitted, I will demonstrate here and now. Please provide a knight."

At the Emperor's command, one of the knights standing by his side descended into the arena. The chieftain shook his head.

"This is not a one-on-one match. To demonstrate the armor's effectiveness, we need a situation with one against many."

The Emperor sent down two more knights.

The chieftain turned to the man in the Desert Demon armor and asked, "How many would be good?"

The man spread all ten fingers.

The expressions of the Emperor's knights turned grim. The Emperor laughed heartily.

"Very well. Ten men. Let us see if your skill matches your bravado."

The knights surrounded the man in black armor. Following the Emperor's orders, their expressions were tense.

Ten against one. They were the best-trained knights in the Empire. This unknown man had undermined their pride.

The knights exchanged glances, communicating without words. They intended to show this arrogant man a lesson.

"Begin," signalled the Emperor.

The spectators were not interested in the duel itself. A match against ten knights was absurd. They focused on one thing: just how sturdy was this armor made from the hide of a Desert Demon?

Ten knights simultaneously raised their swords and charged. They moved swiftly, aiming for vital spots with thrusts and slashes.

"Hah!"

The man in black armor gracefully evaded the attacks with a smooth rotation. Some attacks he parried with his sword, while others he blocked with his free arm.

All the knights' initial attacks failed. Those familiar with swordsmanship were filled with admiration.

The knights were taken aback. This was not the outcome they expected. They exchanged glances and nodded. Their resolve hardened, and their second assault began.

The banquet hall was silent, with only the sharp clashing of metal resounding through the air. Contrary to expectations that this ridiculous match would end quickly, the battle dragged on.

"Amazing."

"Who on earth is that?"

In a seemingly hopeless situation against ten men, the armor more than proved its worth. The man in armor boldly gave up the defense, taking the knights' blows directly on various parts of his body. Without the help of the armor, he would not have been able to contend with the knights to this extent.

However, even those who knew nothing about swordsmanship did not believe it was solely due to the armor. The man was massive—his size fits the description of a giant. Yet, he was not sluggish at all; his movements were almost artistic.

The Empire held regular swordsmanship tournaments to crown the best knights, a celebration that was almost a festival in its own right. The champions usually won by a narrow margin; there were no one-sided victories.

In other words, the skills of the knights were generally even. But the unknown warrior's abilities were overwhelmingly superior.

‘If it were a one-on-one duel…’

‘The Imperial knights would stand no chance.’

‘Are all warriors from the desert that strong?’

"Enough," the Emperor commanded, raising his hand. Immediately, the knights sheathed their swords and stepped back. They could not hide their humiliation. They knew better than anyone that they could not solely blame the armor.

"Chieftain."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I am more interested in the man wearing the armor than the armor itself. Would you give him to me as well?"

For once, the usually indifferent Emperor showed some emotion.

The chieftain smiled.

"Your Majesty, I am not his master. You must ask his master."

"Are you saying he is not a warrior of the desert?"

"No, Your Majesty, he is not, unfortunately."

"Who is his master? Are they present?"

A man in formal attire stepped out from among the people. The audience let out a low gasp as they saw his black hair.

"Marquis Rad."

The Emperor chuckled dryly.

"You are his master?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then I must ask you. Will you give him to me?"

"Your Majesty, I apologize, but he is like a brother to me."

"I will treat him with great honor."

"Your Majesty, would you cut a part of your body and entrust it to another?"

"What?"

The Emperor's voice rose.

"How audacious. You leave me no room to ask again. But what if I insist on having him?"

"Your Majesty would not make a decision that goes against reason."

"I am reason," the Emperor declared arrogantly. The Empire ruled the world, and the Emperor was its ruler. This was the truth of the era.

"Marquis Rad, by what standard will you judge whether I am right or wrong?"

"How could I dare to judge Your Majesty? The standard lies entirely within the order that Your Majesty establishes, and the Empire exists under that order."

"In other words, if my standard wavers, the Empire wavers. To avoid becoming a tyrant who leads the Empire to ruin, I must be prudent."

In the Empire, the Emperor's authority was immense. Even the dukes would step back if the Emperor spoke a few words. When the Emperor pressed this hard, there was only one response for an Imperial noble: to bow low.

The audience watched the young Marquis standing calmly under the Emperor's gaze. The Marquis replied without a change in his expression.

"Your Majesty, the only unwavering standard is the word of the divine. As long as the Absolute watches over the Empire, and Your Majesty is the Empire, there is no issue."

The Emperor silently stared at the Marquis.

‘This one is no ordinary man.’

It wouldn't be impressive for a seasoned noble to respond this well, but…

‘He's only twenty-five.’

The Marquis was remarkably refined for his age. Such solidity came from a wealth of experiences, meeting people, and countless decisions through trial and error.

The Emperor glanced around the hall at the other young nobles of a similar age.

‘Tsk.’

They were all mere children.

‘The Raad family…’

He had known for some time that they supported the Iron King. No place in the Empire escaped the Emperor's gaze. When he first learned of it, he was annoyed. The Rad family was an external force. He could not tolerate them recklessly meddling in the Empire.

Should he crush them without a trace, or force them into complete submission? Neither option was ideal. If mishandled, the Empire would gain a troublesome enemy, and if poorly assimilated, they would become a hidden dagger within.

The Emperor had decided to wait and see. During his reign, he would not allow them to act rashly. But what happened after his time was not his concern. It was a decision reflecting the Emperor's self-serving nature.

‘If managed well, it would help the Iron King secure his position in the future. Whether to tame him well or be devoured by him depends on the Iron King's skill.’

He did not have a special fondness for his son. However, since he had chosen to support him, he would provide strength.

The Emperor's silence stretched, causing the atmosphere to grow tense. Here and there, throats bobbed as people swallowed nervously.

The Emperor struck the armrest of his throne and burst into laughter.

"Marquis Rad, this is the first time I have ever desired someone else's man. At least let me see his face. Surely you will not refuse that?"

The tension in the room instantly eased. The Marquis bowed and then turned to the man in black armor. He nodded at the man.

The man pulled off his helmet. The young man with chestnut hair had a surprisingly ordinary face.

‘Oh, he's cute.’

The ladies who had imagined a menacing criminal or a face covered in scars reacted favorably.

‘Martin.’

Someone recognized the man. Her golden eyes trembled. Sienna’s lips curled slightly as she spotted the familiar face.

The Emperor closely examined Martin's face.

"You are a remarkable warrior, indeed. My knights could not match you."

"Your praise is too high, Your Majesty."

"Are you a knight?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Then what is your position?"

"I have no official position."

"Marquis Raad, what is the meaning of this? To keep such a talent without giving him a title?"

"A knight's status cannot be obtained by skill alone. He is not from the Empire, so he cannot provide proof of his lineage up to three generations. He does not meet the requirements the Empire needs."

"Hmm."

The Emperor muttered gravely.

"The narrow-mindedness of the Empire has prevented us from embracing talent. By my authority, I bestow upon him the title of knight. Sir Ventri."

The head of the Imperial Knights answered.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Bring me the golden insignia."

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