Episode 5: The Emperor's Tour
Merslin was gone. The empire was shaking. Lian knew he couldn't find answers in reports alone. The words on the page were always the same. Taxes, discontent, alliance. But they held none of the reality—the smell of the forges, the tired eyes of the farmers, the calloused hands of the blacksmiths. So he left.
The Eve of Departure
In a palace meeting room, a map was spread across the table. Candlelight flickered over borders and city names. Lian traced a line with his finger, from the north to the south. "First, the North. The iron mines are where the trouble begins. Then, the South… the grain and the taxes." Ivela stood with her arms crossed. "It won't be easy, Your Majesty. To ignore the lords, you will have to be even firmer on the ground." Serin nodded quietly. "Going in person is the right choice. There are things you can't see in documents. Their eyes, their breath… you need to hear those." Lian took a deep breath. "Yes. My time sitting at this desk is over."
The North, The Iron Mines
The winter wind carried the scent of iron. As they entered the town, the acrid smell of hot metal and smoke stung Lian's nostrils. Inside the forge, Hag swung a hammer with arms covered in burn scars. Clang! Clang! Clang! Sparks flew, their brief light extinguished as soon as it hit the ceiling. "Your Majesty," Hag said, breathing heavily. "We give our iron to the empire, but all that returns is pain. Only tax notices remain." Lian glanced at the back of Hag's hands. They were layered with calluses. "I came to hear your voice myself," Lian said, his tone low but firm. "I will change this." A young blacksmith, wiping soot from his hands, added, "It wasn't this hard under Emperor Merslin… Does His Majesty Lian even know our situation?" Instead of answering, Lian looked deeper into their faces. In their eyes, exhaustion and expectation mingled.
The South, The Wheat Fields
Midday. The smell of sun-baked earth and freshly cut wheat hung in the air. Mila straightened her stooped back and looked at Lian. Her hands were caked with dirt and chaff. "We give our grain to the capital, but we have nothing left. Our children are going hungry." Her voice wasn't just a complaint; it was heavy with a deep resignation. Lian took a breath. Behind him, Ivela whispered, "We had to see this for ourselves. The documents told us nothing of this." Serin knelt and held a stalk of wheat. A fine dust rose from the broken stem. "The land is still alive," she murmured. "But the people are at their limit." Lian took Mila's hand. It was rough, but warm. "I will find a solution soon. I give you my word."
The Lodging, That Night
After visiting the North and South, Lian's party gathered in a small inn. The firelight flickered softly around the room. A map was spread on the table. Leonix spoke first. "Your Majesty, the people's discontent is not simply about resource distribution. The lords are levying excessive taxes and pocketing the profits." Marietta set down her cup. "That's right. Much of the iron and grain requisitioned for military supplies never reaches the capital. It goes straight to the lords' storehouses." Ivela unfolded her arms and leaned over the table. "Resource distribution is the surface issue. Behind it lies the greed of the nobles." Serin quietly added, "I agree. This isn't just a tax problem. It could be something that shakes the very foundation of the empire." Lian looked down at the map. His gaze followed the lines connecting the iron mines, the wheat fields, the ports, and back to the capital. "It's clear now," Lian's voice was low, but it did not waver. "We must go beyond solving the resource problem. We must uncover their conspiracy." The firelight reflected in his eyes. They were harder than before.
Lian looked out the window. The night sky was dark, the stars were few. But a faint hope, like those distant stars, began to burn in his chest. I will stand not as Merslin's son, but as the master of this empire. He vowed it to himself.
**
Episode 6: Voices of the Forgotten
Lian's tour continued. The resource problem was not limited to grain and iron. The discontent of the various races living in the empire was woven into a deeper, more complex tapestry.
The Dwarven Village – Calluses and Heavy Sighs
Two days after leaving the North, the party arrived at a Dwarven village. As they stood at the entrance, the cold wind carried the smell of metal dust. The glow from a forge cast an orange stain on the stone path. Lian entered a workshop. Inside, Elder Bardun was setting down a heavy hammer. His hands were covered in scars and calluses, and his beard glittered with flecks of metal. Bardun frowned at the sight of Lian. "I didn't expect to see Your Majesty in person. But I will speak plainly." His voice was gravelly, his breath hot. "We have the same skills as any other Dwarf. But because the Dwarves of this village are gruff and our words are not smooth, we are not treated with respect. The weapons and tools we make earn great sums in the capital… but nothing returns to our hands." He picked up a blade he had forged with his rough hands. The firelight glinted softly on its edge. "Do you know what this is? It's a sword for the Imperial Guard. We made it. And yet, they tell us we must pay more taxes. Is that not a joke?" Lian paused, looking him straight in the eye. "Your skill is a treasure to this empire. I will not allow this injustice to continue." At his words, Bardun studied Lian, his brow still furrowed. In his eyes, along with the anger, was a flicker of something that wanted to believe.
The Orc Encampment – A Heavy, Honest Voice
Leaving the Dwarven village, the party soon arrived at an Orc settlement. Beyond a low stone wall, they heard deep, heavy voices. Grunk, the Orc representative, emerged. He gripped a spear shaft in his massive hand, a scar etched permanently on his forehead. Grunk spoke without hesitation. "We are strong! We have fought for the empire and stood on countless battlefields." He slammed a fist against his chest. Thump. "But because they say our minds are dull, we are not given high positions. We are treated as mere soldiers, as brutes who only know strength!" As his voice echoed, young Orcs watched nervously from behind him. Lian looked past Grunk to them for a moment, then spoke. "I will not see your abilities as mere strength. You will be given opportunities in places other than war." Grunk snorted, tilting his head. "Words are easy, Your Majesty." But in his expression, there was a subtle mix of doubt and expectation.
The Humans' Plight – The Largest Race, A Divided Voice
On his way back, reports about the humans continued to come in. In the Elysium Empire, humans were the most numerous race, but their complaints were far more complex. Some humans found success in commerce or the military. But ordinary humans were being pushed aside by Dwarves and Orcs, suffering from low wages. Their versatility, paradoxically, had become their weakness. Lian met Edric, a laborer's representative from the capital's outskirts. Edric's hands were calloused, deep lines etched around his eyes. "Your Majesty, they say we humans can do anything. But… it is because of that 'anything' that we are not treated properly." His voice was low, but it was laced with a suppressed anger. "The Dwarves are respected as artisans, the Orcs as warriors. But because we are versatile, we are treated as nothing special." Lian looked at his hands. Stained with iron dust, they spoke of a deep, long-held fatigue. "I will fix this as well," Lian's voice grew firmer.
The Inn – To the Heart of the Tangled Problem
That night, Lian sat with Ivela, Serin, Leonix, and Marietta in a small inn. A candle cast shadows on the wall. Ivela spoke first. "Your Majesty, the racial issues run much deeper than the tax problem. If we ignore their discontent, it will one day explode." Serin followed immediately. "I agree. And… it's not just simple discontent. It feels as if someone is intentionally fanning the flames of conflict between the races." Lian tapped quietly on the table. "I had the same thought. This conflict does not feel natural." The air in the room grew heavy.
Lian looked out the window. The starlight in the night sky was faint. But he felt it. If I do not solve this, the empire will not last long. He spoke in a low voice. "The greed of the nobles, the conflict between the races… I will unravel this entire tangled mess. And whoever is pulling the strings from behind, I will find their hand and sever it." The firelight caught in his eyes. They no longer wavered.
**
Episode Seven: Resolving Conflict, Shadows of Conspiracy
The Grand Hall of the Elysium Imperial Palace was heavy with tension from the early morning. The high ceiling glittered with the chandelier's pale light, yet its glow did nothing to ease the air. Along the long table sat the representatives of various races and the empire's key figures. All eyes turned toward the one seated at the center—Lian.
He traced the table's surface with his fingertips, as if steadying his breath, before he spoke."Today, we are not here merely to voice our grievances. For the empire to be whole again, all present must search for solutions."
His words were firm, though weariness colored their edge. The journey he had taken—the sights, the voices, the burdens—still pressed upon his shoulders. At his side sat Ria, who gave a small, silent nod. That single gesture allowed Lian a fleeting moment of respite.
Voices of the Races
Dwarf elder Bardun leaned forward, his gnarled hands striking the table with a dull thud."Your Highness, we dwarves are the hands that sustain the empire's forges. Yet because of our rough manner, our words ill-fitted for courts, we have been cast aside. Tools and weapons of our making fill the capital's coffers, but we have not received what is due."
His voice rang with the weight of an iron hammer.
Before his words had finished, the orc representative, Grunk, slammed his fist down."We orcs are no different!" His tusks flashed as his growl filled the chamber. "We bled on the frontlines of every war, yet are dismissed as brutes unfit for command. Why must we always be 'muscle and nothing more'?"
The water glasses trembled as his fury pressed against the hall.
At once, the human delegate Edric rose sharply to his feet."And while you squabble, do you know the state of humanity? We fill the ranks of commerce, armies, offices alike, yet receive the least reward. If dwarves and orcs are given more opportunity, then what remains for us but to be driven further down?"
The hall chilled, invisible blades seeming to hang in the air, pointed at each throat.
Lian and Ria's Mediation
Raising his hand, Lian stilled the storm."You all speak truth. But solving one race's grievance by tightening the noose around another—that strips this gathering of meaning."
He drew a breath, his gaze passing from Bardun, to Grunk, to Edric."To the dwarves, I will grant greater opportunities, along with training in communication and fair standing. To the orcs, command education and the recognition they deserve. To the humans, an economic foundation worthy of their versatility. Every voice here will be heard."
Ria's soft but steady tone followed."But balance must be our guide. None shall be left diminished, especially in matters of resource distribution. That will be most carefully overseen."
The delegates' eyes still carried suspicion, yet their breathing slowed. The tension eased slightly, though shadows lingered in the corners of the chamber.
Shadows of Conspiracy
When the meeting ended, Lian stepped into the palace corridor. Afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows, stretching his shadow long across the marble floor.
From the dim edge of the hall, Serena appeared—head of the empire's intelligence service, ever moving like a shadow herself."Your Highness," she said, voice low and cold. "We have uncovered evidence. Certain nobles are deliberately fueling racial discord, stoking unrest over resource distribution."
Lian halted."Who?" His voice struck like iron.
Serena's gaze hardened."Duke Raden and Marquis Erto. They mean to seize the empire's wealth and power through this conflict."
Silence fell. A breeze stirred the drapes at the corridor's end. Only their faint rustle filled the air."…So this was no mere quarrel," Lian murmured. "Not strife over resources, but a plot to shake the empire itself."
Serena inclined her head."We continue to track their moves. Once we gather more, you will know at once."
The Decision
Resuming his stride, Lian gazed out at the city beyond. Smoke curled from chimneys; people bustled through their daily lives. Ordinary peace—fragile, precious.
To protect it, hesitation had no place."We will uncover this conspiracy to its end," he declared, voice firm. "If the empire's peace is to endure, then it is my turn to act."
He summoned Ivela, Serin, Leonix, and Marietta. Their faces bore tension, but their eyes burned with resolve.
"Now the true enemy of the empire stands revealed," Lian said quietly. "We must seek them out—and end them."
The heaviness of the chamber still clung to the air, but Lian's voice rang with unshaken steel.