The next day, Yulie returned to her duties at the Freyhem Knights’ Order. A lingering chill, likely from what happened the previous night, washed over her. But as the Grand Knight, there was no time for rest.
She spent the morning sorting through the ledgers, drafting the training schedule, and delegating tasks to the knights. The paperwork alone took up almost two hours.
“Phew...” Yulie exhaled, stretching her arms above her head, feeling a small wave of accomplishment.
At that moment, the door to her office burst open with such force that it nearly splintered. Yulie instinctively sprang to her feet.
Rockfell, the deputy knight, rushed in, his face drenched in sweat, and shouted, “Grand Knight! We have a serious situation!”
"Sir Rockfell, what is—"
Before she could finish, several agents in suits entered behind Rockfell and said, "Alright, Deputy Knight, if you could please wait outside. This matter is not for your concern."
“Unhand me!” Rockfell demanded, resisting as they forced him toward the exit.
“Now, now. Let’s not obstruct official duties,” the agent warned, turning his attention to the room. The agents glanced around, their faces showing faint disappointment at the office's plain, no-frills interior.
“What’s going on here?” Yulie snapped.
One of the agents smirked as he flashed his badge and said, “Russo, Knights’ Order Special Inspection Team, Intelligence Agency. Well, we’re here for the routine audit of private knight orders.”
“Excuse me, but an audit? Of our knight order?”
"Yes, that's correct. A report has come to our attention, prompting this necessary review."
"A report?" Yulie repeated, nearly at a loss for words. An audit was absurd—she had always managed Freyhem with the highest standards of integrity.
"Yes, a report. We've received certain... information, and... Hey, get to work! Grab everything.”
At Russo's command, the agents sprang into action, tossing ledgers, mission files, and nearly every document they could find into boxes.
Yulie pressed her lips together, then snapped, “There is nothing wrong with Freyhem! This report has to be false—”
“Well, we’ll see about that once the investigation is over,” Russo cut in. “If you’re really as spotless as you claim, maybe you’ll even earn a commendation.”
“This is ridiculous...” Yulie muttered, ready to argue further but suddenly fell silent, a warning from Deculein flashing through her mind.
"Do as you wish, but be ready for the consequences. Remember this—you will regret it."
“Now, now! Let’s go, keep it moving! We have plenty more to get through,” Russo barked, pushing the agents to hurry along.
The agents swarmed the room while Yulie stood rooted in place, her mind racing and heat rising up her neck. Something was going terribly wrong.
The grand imperial hall buzzed with the presence of the Empire's ministers and officials. Today, for the first time in ages, Sophien attended the state affairs herself in person. Though she had been making crucial decisions from within the confines of the snow globe—possessing the body of a cat—she had long avoided this hall, weary of the tiresome task of facing her subordinates.
"Your Majesty, the Scarletborn's resistance has grown intolerable. I recommend we take firm action to crush their rebellion and restore order."
"Your Majesty, the situation in Marik has spiraled out of control. The area is now flooded with reckless adventurers. It would be prudent to close off access to Marik entirely."
"Your Majesty, the Empire's merchants—"
Sophien viewed these fools with deep contempt. Most of them cared little for the Empire or its people, driven purely by self-interest. Roughly thirty percent were selfish opportunists, ten percent were under the Altar's influence, another forty percent blindly followed their factions, leaving only a few twenty percent who genuinely cared about the Empire's governance.
"Your Majesty, a petition has arrived from the provinces. I humbly seek your attention," the official said.
“Hand it over,” Sophien replied, a scowl on her face as she snatched the document.
The message was clear. The Scarletborn, possessing demonic power, had laid waste to villages and slaughtered hundreds of vigilantes who stood against them. The plea was simple—they desperately sought to be rid of the Scarletborn.
"Your Majesty, many are increasingly worried about the recent spike in prices. This, too, seems to be due to the opening of Marik—"
"Ah, excellent! You've brought up a valid point!" Sophien interrupted, her eyes lighting up with sudden interest. "To combat inflation, I will have the Empire's supply of mana stones placed under direct control of the Imperial family. I will also raise the interest rates."
Raising interest rates would decrease liquidity across the Empire. Citizens would curb their spending and deposit more money into banks, pushing merchants to lower prices on unsold goods.
Sophien’s greatest weapon wasn’t her imperial authority or military strength; it was the Empire’s reserve currency, the elne, along with its monopoly over mana stones. The power of interest rates, in the end, came from this currency.
The officials broke into a flurry of anxious protests, one quickly following another.
“Your Majesty! Controlling the supply of mana stones is far too—”
“Your Majesty, I urge you to reconsider! A sudden increase in interest rates could—”
“What's said is said. I won't take it back,” Sophien declared.
Also, Sophien was already preparing for a war against the Altar, and the weapons left unsold due to the rate hike could easily be bought by the imperial family at a bargain.
“Your Majesty, if nothing else, providing some advance notice could—”
“Advance notice? And who exactly would that benefit—!” Sophien shouted, her voice booming through the hall, forcing the officials to recoil like turtles retreating into their shells. “My policies will not be announced ahead of time.”
Sophien’s next policy would be the implementation of a legal name banking system. The aim was to unmask hidden criminals and reveal corrupt officials—a plan she considered nothing short of brilliant. However, it required the utmost secrecy. She planned to discuss it with Deculein and tighten security to prevent any leaks once Keiron returned.
“I’ll remember the name and face of anyone who dares to demand advance notice,” Sophien declared. “And what would you have done if I had given you a heads-up? Twist that knowledge to serve your own ends?”
A tense silence hung in the grand imperial hall.
Sophien looked over the room, her expression stern, and added, “I know how my predecessor dealt with you. He believed in politics that balanced harmony between the Emperor and his officials. But with succession comes change. This era is not Crebaim’s; it belongs to Sophien. In my reign, officials are nothing more than tools for the Empress, myself.”
The officials remained silent, their heads lowered.
“Go on, ask me why,” Sophien commanded.
“... May we ask why, Your Majesty?” one of the officials finally dared to have asked.
"Because I am far more capable than any of you. In politics under my rule, it is much more practical to use ordinary people like you as tools."
A heavy silence settled over the grand imperial hall. It wasn’t just her unyielding confidence that left them speechless; it was the sheer weight of her mana pressing down on everyone.
"However, I do understand your concerns about the Scarletborn. I hold no affection for them either. As for their hidden lair recently discovered..."
Sophien let her words hang in the air, the silence stretching as every eye and ear in the hall turned toward her.
"I will deploy Deculein to handle the situation," Sophien announced.
The Empire's seventh most powerful mage, a Rakshasa in both strength and horror, surpassing the terror of Tigers and Disease—a figure the Scarletborn feared above all others, shuddering at the very mention of his name.
Upon the Empress's words of deploying the so-called Demon of the Scarletborn, the officials swiftly bowed and said in unison, “We remain deeply honored by your favor, Your Majesty...”
Clunk, clunk— Clunk, clunk—
I was on my way to the Scarletborn's hidden lair on the northeastern outskirts of the Empire. To pass the time, I kept myself busy, exploring various studies on the authority of the Iron Man.
Carla's authority worked in a distinct way. When fused with the Iron Man, it branched out into various attributes, enhancing abilities of Sharp Eyesight, Aesthetic Sense, and the Midas Touch. Furthermore...
“Sir, we will be arriving soon,” the driver called out from the front seat.
I nodded, catching a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Today, I wasn’t in my usual suit but in my uniform, adorned with medals. It clearly marked me as a member of the Empress’s Elite Guard, the force assigned to eliminate the Scarletborn.
The car rolled to a halt.
The soldiers snapped to attention, saluting as they opened the door. In one clear voice, they said, “Professor, it’s an honor!”
Stepping out, I adjusted my hat and looked ahead.
One of the Elite Guards beside me reported, “... It seems the Scarletborn have been hiding here in plain sight, Professor. The village above looks ordinary, but there’s a hidden lair beneath it.”
Smoke choked the air, the glow of flames licking the horizon. Knights and soldiers swarmed the village, leaving no shadow unexplored.
“Furthermore, this man is one of their leaders,” an Elite Guard reported, shoving the prisoner to his knees before me.
“... Urgh,” the Scarletborn leader groaned.
I locked eyes with him, and he returned my stare with a look of stubborn resolve. He was a man from the desert, unmistakably Scarletborn—his origins as obvious as the sun.
“How dare you stare at him! Do you even know who you’re dealing with?” one of the guards barked, slapping the man across the face, eager to display his excessive loyalty.
The slap landed with such force that the man’s lip split, his head snapping to the side.
“An interrogation is necessary. Send him to Roharlak,” I ordered.
At that moment, the man’s mouth flew open, a clear attempt to bite his tongue and end it all.
But his jaw couldn’t close. I used Telekinesis to force his teeth apart. As I looked down at him, a faint twist tugged at my lips, and I said, “... Stay alive.”
A distant explosion rumbled through the air. Whether it was a spell, a sword clash, or artillery fire, I couldn’t be sure. Amid the chaos, my eyes remained fixed on the man.
"As long as you keep breathing, there is hope. But if you fall here, I will have no choice but to bring destruction to that village."
Then, I released my Telekinesis, letting go of my grip on him. He clenched his teeth in frustration but refrained from making any more foolish moves. Tears gathered in his eyes as he muttered through bloodied lips.
“Send him to Roharlak.”
“Yes, sir!” the guards barked in unison, saluting before dragging the man away.
Another explosion rocked the ground. I watched as smoke and embers swallowed the village, a creeping dread settling over me. It felt like some long-buried history was clawing its way to the surface, one I couldn’t easily cast aside as a man from Earth.
"Professor! We’ve received intelligence about an underground tunnel nearby!" a rat-faced man reported, sprinting toward me, gasping for breath.
I furrowed my brow and demanded, "A tunnel, you say?"
"Yes, Professor! It's an underground escape route they've constructed. We should deploy troops to—"
“There’s no need. Dividing our forces to secure the tunnel would weaken our defenses and leave us vulnerable.”
“Oh, of course! As expected of you, Professor! You’re absolutely correct,” Duren replied, nodding eagerly. His agreement came so quickly that it seemed he would follow any command, even if it meant him to commit seppuku.
“I’ll inspect the tunnel personally,” I declared.
“... Alone, Professor? Is that wise? At least consider bringing some of the Elite Guards—"
“That’s unnecessary. There’s no reason to involve knights in dealing with such trash. Just give me the coordinates.”
“Oh, yes, Professor. The map is ready for your review.”
I took the map from Duren and signaled the knights to secure the perimeter. With that done, I headed toward the marked location—the tunnel.