Academy’s Genius Swordmaster
Academy’s Genius Swordmaster - Chapter 151: Audience (3)

Chapter 151: Audience (3)

“Please, everyone, come in.”

The woman spoke. Her voice was soft but carried an underlying strength. People, frozen by the standoff between the two beasts, began to move, one by one, stepping forward.

“That’s right, Sword Saint.”

Varen spoke, staring straight at Zaifa. Despite facing Varen’s unwavering gaze, there was no hint of retreat in Zaifa’s demeanor. Zaifa licked her lips once, glanced at Ronan, and spoke.

“…I’ll see you later, then.”

“I can roughly guess what you’re thinking, but it’s definitely a misunderstanding.”

Zaifa remained silent. With a rough swish of her tail, she turned away. Water still dripped from Zaifa’s tail as she vanished into the chamber. Ronan let out an amazed chuckle.

‘Is she going in that state?’

Even meeting a local friend seemed like it’d warrant dressing more decently than that. Varen stood firm in the same stance as before.

The moment Zaifa disappeared inside the room, Varen let out a sigh as if he’d narrowly escaped death.

“Whoa… I thought I was going to die…!”

“What? Were you scared?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Those eyes were something else… huhuhu, I almost fainted.”

Varen’s hands were trembling as if he had narrowly escaped death. It was a similar reaction to when he read the club activity report. Ronan smirked.

“For someone saying that, you were quite confidently facing her.”

“Well… protecting a student is a teacher’s duty. Can’t just avoid what needs to be done.”

“You were awesome. Thanks.”

Ronan patted Varen’s back. In many ways, he was a better warelion than a human. Varen, calming his emotions with a deep breath, continued.

“What exactly happened between the Sword Saint and you? I’ve heard she’s rough-tempered, but that reaction isn’t something she usually shows when she’s angry.”

“I didn’t do anything. Really.”

Ronan said calmly. There wasn’t enough time to explain the details. Varen looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

“If you say so, then it must be true. I hope the misunderstanding clears.”

Soon, only Ronan and Varen were left in the reception room. The woman in charge of guiding them spoke again.

“Please, hurry and enter.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry.”

Varen straightened his clothes, while Ronan adjusted his crooked tie. Both entered the room. A long and wide corridor appeared before them.

A red carpet was laid out like a path. People who had entered before were walking ahead. Elaborate frames adorned the walls on both sides of the corridor.

Every frame held a precisely detailed portrait. While diverse in age and gender, they all bore some resemblance in facial features—sharp noses or dark, intense eyes.

Most of the faces Ronan remembered seeing in history class at Philleon. He shrugged.

“These must be past Emperors.”

“Yes. Rulers of the Millennium Empire. It’s truly admirable how the lineage remained unbroken for almost a thousand years.”

Ronan nodded. Even though he knew this fact, it was still remarkable. The current Emperor was Valon 44th. Considering the Empire’s duration and the Emperor’s reign, it wasn’t a large number.

“Some of them notably lived long. The most famous bloodthirsty emperor lived for almost 200 years…”

While walking down the corridor, Varen briefly explained about the past emperors. It was a tumultuous listing of history—one assassinated just three days after accession, while another bloodthirsty emperor ruled for nearly a century.

The portraits were arranged in a way that the closer they got to the throne, the more people from the past appeared. The corridor ended with the face of the dignified first Emperor.

The same imposing door they entered through stood in front of them. When the black-clad imperial guards opened it, a vast space akin to an arena unfolded before them. Ronan raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

The people who had entered earlier were lined up, facing away from the door, hands clasped behind their backs, heads bowed deeply, as if intentionally avoiding seeing something.

“Why aren’t they going in?”

Ronan asked, but no one answered. Gradually, Varen, who had been holding his breath, also bowed his head. Why were they all acting weird? As Ronan maneuvered to see beyond them, he quickly grasped the situation.

“Zaifa?”

Zaifa was kneeling in the center of the chamber, surrounded by a red haze. Muffled groans of pain escaped her lips as he struggled, her fur standing on end.

“Keuuuk…”

A sharply featured man stood in front of Zaifa with him back to her, appearing to be in his early middle age, with about half of his hair already graying, possibly from enduring much hardship.

He wore a crimson robe, symbolizing the Valon Empire. Decorated extravagantly, among all the clothes Ronan had seen, this seemed the most expensive.

Suddenly, Ronan’s gaze landed on the throne. The seat where the ruler of the empire should be sitting was vacant. Ronan pursed his lips. It wasn’t too difficult to deduce the man’s identity.

‘Emperor.’

Valon 44th stood before them. It was the first time Ronan saw him in person. His stern features closely resembled the 7th bloodthirsty Emperor, remarkably so. An indescribable aura shimmered in his dark, intense eyes.

Next to the emperor, a woman stood with her back straight, hands firmly placed on her hips. Her thick lips and a stature larger than most men were quite impressive. Her shoulders, flexed with her muscles, were wide enough to rival Ronan’s.

Clad entirely in black armor, she seemingly belonged to the Emperor’s personal guards, the Golden Army. She aimed a sharp spear directly at Zaifa. A crimson mist flowed from the tip of the spear. The Emperor, observing Zaifa silently, spoke up.

“Guard Captain, raise the output.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The woman nodded. The mist engulfing Zaifa grew denser. Suddenly, a faint sound of something snapping echoed from within her mouth.

“Urghhh…!”

The sound was too forcefully anguished. A few drops of blood trickled from her lower jaw. The Emperor continued without altering his expression.

“Zaifa, I didn’t want to issue punishment to you. The reason I summoned you to the imperial palace today in the first place was to praise you for your accomplishments.”

“Do you know about what happened this morning?”

“Of course. A tragic incident indeed.”

It seemed to be a reference to the massacre by the Dawn Brigade. Zaifa’s body began to tremble as if ready to explode and wreak havoc. A voice mixed with fury escaped through clenched fangs.

“Then why… waste time with such…!”

“This is not just ‘such’ an issue, Zaifa. It’s about maintaining order and decorum. That’s also why you were abruptly called to the palace today. Because it seemed you’d be busy ahead. And while I may not understand your agony…”

Suddenly, the Emperor moved forward. He started patting Zaifa’s head.

“That’s not a valid reason to behave recklessly. How dare you step into the throne room with feet covered in blood and mud…”

“Urghh…!”

“We are not equals, remember that, Zaifa.”

It was a gesture as gentle as petting a domestic cat. More blood drops fell from Zaifa’s mouth, seemingly not due to pain this time. With his hand on Zaifa’s head, the Emperor spoke again.

“Go. I’ll overlook today’s rudeness because of your contribution during the winter.”

“…Understood.”

“I’ll issue a new order soon, so wait for further instructions.”

The Emperor withdrew his hand. As the Guard Captain lowered her sword, the crimson mist disappeared.

Zaifa slowly rose to her feet. A fierceness different from her encounter with Varen surged over her shoulders.

However, the Emperor’s face showed no hint of agitation. Silently bowing, Zaifa left the chamber. People, including Ronan, watched, breathless, the whole scene unfold.

‘What the fuck did I witness?’

Ronan chuckled wryly. Zaipa couldn’t do anything. Despite the blood pact between her and the Emperor, Ronan didn’t expect such a clear hierarchical relationship. As the Emperor watched Zaifa’s footprints, he turned his head.

“I apologize. You witnessed an unseemly sight of Heroes of Winter.”

The Emperor forced an awkward smile. The atmosphere between him and Zaifa’s earlier confrontation had completely changed.

“Please keep today’s events confidential. Not for just me or the Sword Saint’s sake, but for our dignity.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The first to respond was Varen. He showed his respect by kneeling on one knee with his hands clasped together. A bright smile graced the Emperor’s face.

“It’s been a while, Lord Varen. I’ve heard about your achievements.”

“I’m unworthy of such praises.”

“Raise your head. It’s important for both of us to uphold proper manners…”

Saying this, the Emperor gestured to the Guard Captain. The woman who had left the chamber returned shortly with dozens of guards and attendants.

The attendants swiftly cleaned the chamber, which Zaifa had dirtied. The Golden Army, moving in unison, lined up on the left and right sides of the carpet connected to the throne, forming a wall.

The chaotic ambiance transformed into solemnity in an instant. People lined up, facing the throne. There were nine people in total, but the carpet was so wide that there was no shortage of space.

The Emperor took his seat on the throne, his dignified voice resonating through the chamber.

“Greetings. I am Valon 44th, the current Emperor of the Valon Empire.”

****

Formalities concluded swiftly. The Emperor started acknowledging the gathered individuals, bestowing honors one by one. As he glanced at a man with a stylishly grown mustache, he spoke.

“Yes, Lord Noldren. You’ve made significant contributions by mobilizing soldiers to eradicate the Snow Beasts plaguing various territories. Hence, I appoint you as Viscount Niles.”

“Th-thank you, Your Majesty…!”

“I hope that you will continue to fulfill your duties as a nobleman.”

Upon hearing the title of Viscount, Ronan chuckled. Out of the nine people, seven had ascended in rank or had become nobles despite being commoners.

‘Being the Emperor definitely comes with grandeur.’

In every aspect, the people he met here were different. Actions that seemed insignificant had an impact across the entire empire. The Emperor turned his gaze to Varen and spoke.

“Varen Panacir. You used herbs grown personally to create potions and medicines, distributing them free to suffering citizens. Practically, I consider you the biggest hero of this crisis, alongside Lord Ronan.”

“I only did what needed to be done.”

“Your values are becoming increasingly rare. Wouldn’t this be the perfect time to become a noble? You’re more than qualified.”

“Your Majesty, the honor is overwhelming, but… I still prefer teaching students. I plan to return to teaching once the herb cultivation stabilizes.”

Varen replied, politely declining. The Emperor raised his eyebrows, seeming disappointed.

“Hmm… then let me support you by providing land and labor for herb cultivation. I’ll grant you thirty percent of the Brinhills Plains as your estate.”

“Th-That’s…!”

“I won’t accept objections. Cultivate it to your best ability.”

Once the Emperor went that far, there was no way to refuse. Varen pursed his lips and nodded.

Ronan had to restrain the urge to rise and cheer. The Brinhills Plains were among the most fertile lands in the imperial territory.

Just sowing seeds there guaranteed a bountiful harvest, and imagining how Varen’s herb business would flourish in such a place wasn’t difficult. The Emperor’s gaze shifted back to Ronan.

“Yes… you’re the hero of the rumors. Lord Ronan, correct?”

“Yes.”

Ronan nodded, sensing the atmosphere beginning to buzz. Even in the unwavering eyes of the Guard Captain, there was a spark of interest.

“I heard you shattered the unbreakable ice. In fact, you were the one who exterminated the Witch of Winter. I heard from Lorehon that you would be younger than expected, but I never imagined you would be this young.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Of course… Yes, Guard Captain.”

Suddenly, the Emperor turned to the Guard Captain. She respectfully inclined her waist.

“Your command, Your Majesty.”

“Lead the honored guests to the banquet hall. Ensure no one but Lord Ronan and I remain in the chamber.”

“As you command.”

Ronan’s eyes widened. Suddenly, he couldn’t understand what was happening. Varen, too, looked at him with a bewildered expression. The Guard Captain, striding purposefully, addressed the people.

“Please, follow me.”

“Wait, what’s…”

“Please refrain from further conversation.”

People exited like a swift current. Only Ronan and the Emperor were left in the now-empty throne chamber. Thud. The sound of the door closing echoed in the vacuous space.

‘I didn’t expect this.’

Ronan twisted his lips. His mind was filled with the dilemma of whether to accept if the Emperor proposed becoming a noble. While having the privileges of nobility was appealing, it could also tether his future actions and bring obligations.

After a deep, deep contemplation, he was finally reaching a conclusion, but now everything had turned into a mess. Confirming no one was around, the Emperor stood up.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

“Yes. I want you to become the Dawn of the Empire.”