The grand hall of the imperial palace had been adorned with decorations and filled with rows of long tables. Gathered around them were nobles, dignitaries, and the students of the Valerian Mage Academy.
At the very end of the hall was a comically longer and larger table, where Emperor Xavier Valerian sat at the head. The princes were seated immediately next to him, and further down were nobles by rank, followed by the head of the mage academy and the top five students, Serina included.
As Aric stepped through the grand hall, the room plunged into a momentary stunned silence, only for a flurry of whispers to erupt a moment later.
"Isn’t that the forgotten prince?"
"Isn’t he bedridden?"
"Careful with your words; I heard he killed men for speaking ill just earlier today."
Nobles and guests exchanged gossip about the fourth prince, speculations flew, and curious glances were thrown in his direction, but Aric remained as composed as could be, his expression unreadable.
He walked to the emperor’s table, currently escorted by one of the imperial guards.
The seating arrangement was symbolic, trailing down from the emperor through the ranks of power. However, as Aric approached, it was clear there was no seat for him among the princes.
Aric reached the table, standing a bit away from the emperor and the other princes.
"Brothers," he greeted with a nod before turning to the emperor.
"Father," he greeted with a slight bow.
They all responded to his greeting with bodily acknowledgments before the second prince spoke.
"Younger Brother, it seems your arrival was not anticipated, so they had not placed an extra seat among us. I’ll have th—"
"No, no," Aric shook his hand. "There is no need for that. I’ll just sit anywhere, it doesn’t matter," Aric said, his tone composed as he walked along the table and found a seat in the far middle.
His actions subtly undermined the situation, showing he was unfazed by the oversight.
Emperor Xavier Valerian was known for being a rather quiet individual, but his aura spoke of unparalleled authority. It is said that martial artists with the ability to feel ki are almost unable to breathe in his presence.
He had hair of pure white. It was clear he was quite aged, but he didn’t look it; he seemed full of vitality.
His head leaned on his arm, and his previously bored expression seemed to shift to amusement upon Aric’s arrival.
"Say, Aric, why did you finally decide to grace us with your presence this year?" the emperor asked, his voice as imposing as he looked, and the entire table went silent awaiting Aric’s answer.
"I heard the wine was worth the attendance," Aric replied, a hint of dry humor in his tone as he took a filled glass next to him, taking a sip.
Aric had expected it, especially from a member of Darius’s entourage—an attempt to embarrass him by exploiting his lack of knowledge in strategic politics.
All eyes turned to the fourth prince, most eager to get a laugh as he crashed and burned, while others, like the emperor and his second brother, were intrigued to hear his response.
"You must believe money solves every problem," Aric responded coolly, not sparing the lord a glance as he gazed at his wine glass.
"Indeed I do," Hozai swiftly retorted. "I pay my guards well, and as a result, none can humiliate me in public,"
His words were a blatant jab at the prince regarding the actions of his estate guards.
Aric smiled, a cold, unreadable tug on his lips.
"Let’s say we follow your method: a few bribes, some concessions... and suddenly the emperor’s power is up for auction. Now, any kingdom looking for wealth simply revolts, and we continue to pay to keep our authority... Clearly, that’s unsustainable," Aric responded, seemingly ignoring the lord’s provocation.
"So what do you suggest?" the lord questioned, already uneasy by Aric’s calm and composed articulation. His idea had been exposed as flawed by the prince so easily.
"Burn their fields, raze their city, hang their leaders... let people see what defiance brings."
Aric’s words hung coldly in the air. No one had expected such brutal thinking from the third prince, and it became quite clear that the events earlier that day were most certainly not a rumor.
"And the people?" Darius asked, the third prince putting on his facade. "You would advise we slaughter women and children?"
"Survivors will live their lives with a lesson. Fear breeds loyalty far more effectively than gold or promises. For example, the lord bragged about his well-compensated guards, but they are loyal to his coin, not to him. What happens when they are offered more money? Authority built on monetary compensation is certain to crumble eventually.
However, I’m certain my guards will find it hard to defy me again when the head of their companion decorates my table... Don’t you think so, Lord Hozai?" Aric’s eyes narrowed, and his voice turned cold as he addressed the wealthy lord.
The lord clenched his fist under the table.
"Such harsh methods, your highness. Perhaps some would say it’s unnecessary cruelty," Hozai spoke through slightly clenched teeth.
"Cruelty? Perhaps. But sometimes cruelty is the most effective form of mercy." Aric shrugged slightly.
"Mercy towards the rest of the empire. When one kingdom rebels, others will follow if not deterred. By ending this quickly and decisively, we prevent greater bloodshed in the future."
Aric shifted his chair back as he spoke, standing.
"Terror is a powerful tool, your lordship," Aric gazed straight into Hozai’s eyes. "And unlike your loyalty bought with gold, fear does not forget."
Aric picked up a filled glass from the table.
"Now, do excuse me, as I go take some air on the balcony," he said, walking away and leaving the entire table in stunned silence.