The family members, servants, and noble acquaintances who had corresponded with them—along with more than a dozen pure-blood horses and even the blue-eyed dog Enckell that the Rupert family had raised during their ten short years of ruling the empire—were all dragged before the Sun Palace for execution.
The condemned were stabbed in places that would not immediately kill them, hung at the gates of the Sun Palace like livestock awaiting slaughter, so their blood could be drained. Thin rivulets of blood dripped, drop by drop, dyeing the marble steps of the Sun Palace red.
A month later, once it was confirmed that all the condemned had perished, Nero Augustus Caesis ordered their decapitation. Their heads were sealed in plaster and mounted upon the colossal pillars of the Imperial Court, staring day and night toward the Royal Cemetery behind the Sun Palace.
This cruel punishment, long vanished since ancient Earth times, struck terror into the great noble conglomerates and the rebel factions. It also spread the infamous name of the tyrant Nero across the entire Galactic Empire.
"…I heard our new emperor is still very young, not even past his differentiation period…"
"…And I've heard His Majesty's legs were gravely crippled during his flight, caused by Lord Rupert's men. So after a mad emperor, we now have a crippled one?"
"But his methods in dealing with the rebels…"
"All I can say is, truly worthy of being the son of the Mad Emperor…"
The wait dragged on too long, and the nobles on the right side of the long carpet whispered under the cover of the orchestral accompaniment.
The throne had changed masters several times in so short a span, and few in such a situation could maintain reverence or loyalty to the legitimate royal line. Moreover, Nero's father, the late Emperor Carague, was infamous as a "bloodthirsty tyrant," a cannibal emperor.
Legend had it that, due to some grave mental illness, he had spiraled into uncontrollable madness near the end of his reign, to the point of committing horrors such as cannibalism.
"Does this mean we will never see a day of peace?"
"Not necessarily. According to the star-system laws of the empire, if a young sovereign ascends before differentiation, the Imperial Prime Minister must serve as regent, and the Council Before the Throne will keep strict oversight…"
"Harison Lauder truly wagered correctly this time! If I had been the one to open the gates of the capital fortress for His Majesty that day… then today I too would be…"
"To serve the son of a mad emperor is hardly a blessing… What if he one day goes insane as well…"
"Just wait and see. Perhaps in a few years, that throne will change hands again…"
Several pairs of eyes, heavy with implication, turned toward Harison Lauder, who stood proudly beneath the throne.
"…Blessed be by the gods, graced by the Holy Son. All hail the Father of the Galactic Empire, His Divine Majesty the Emperor!"
At the officiant's booming proclamation, the thunderous overture slackened slightly.
The blare of the horn split the long night like lightning, echoing through the Sun Palace.
In an instant, all private whispers were drowned by the storming symphony.
In the silent gaze of tens of thousands, at the end of the grand staircase of the Sun Palace, a figure slowly emerged.
A towering knight clad in heavy armor, a long white cloak trailing behind him. His helm was wrought in the shape of a fearsome wolf's head, only the lupine eyes glowing cold blue light.
Behind him followed two other Wolf Knights clad in black, rifles shouldered, magazines locked and loaded. The thundering step of armored boots shook the floor, overwhelming even the grand symphony.
The nobles' faces paled in unison.
This was none other than the famed elite legion of the Galactic Empire—the Wolf Knights.
The Wolf Knights were the royal guard personally founded by Ceasar Augustus Caesis. Only the Caesis family held full authority to command them.
Upon swearing the oath, Wolf Knights would never marry or bear children, seldom even remove their armor. They fought only to protect the House of Caesis, until they fell gloriously on the battlefield.
Their armor was jet black. Only one man had the right to wear white armor—the Chief Wolf Knight, personally appointed by a member of the imperial family.
The White Wolf Knight strode firmly, step by step, through the gilded archway of the Sun Palace, toward the throne upon its high dais.
In his arms he carried a slender youth with hair as white as snow.
The supreme emperor of the Galactic Empire turned out to be a silver-haired boy of not even eighteen. He wore the black imperial uniform like a raven, overlaid with a sumptuous crimson cloak adorned with silver-leaf rose motifs made of tiny gems. The ceremonial robe was so long that, even with the knight holding part of it up, more than half still trailed along the red carpet behind, dragged step by step.
"…Holy Son bless us, I knew the new emperor was young, but I did not expect him to look even younger than I imagined!"
"So he truly is completely crippled. He cannot even walk at his own coronation…"
"Hush! Hush!"
As the two approached, the foremost nobles hastily silenced their murmuring peers.
Leaning back against the chest of the White Wolf Knight, Nero Augustus Caesis narrowed his crimson eyes lazily, his expression utterly serene. He looked less like someone at a coronation witnessed by thousands, and more like he was strolling idly through his own rose garden.
All the light from the gilded crystal chandeliers above poured down upon him, making the pure silver of the young emperor's hair shimmer as brilliantly as the Milky Way.