A full year had passed since father and son last met.
When the old king looked Lucien over, he was momentarily stunned.
When Lucien first left the capital, he had still been a boy, gentle-faced, soft-spoken, with youth written all over him.
But now;
"My child… you've grown."
The old king's wrinkled hand lifted as if to touch Lucien's face, but in the end he could not bring himself to do it. His arm fell back to his side as he sighed deeply.
"It is your father who has wronged you."
Lucien remained silent for a moment before answering softly, "Don't worry, Father. In a strange way… it became a blessing."
"If I had gone to my assigned fief as planned, my eldest brother would have locked me away by now. I would never have seen you again."
"Your elder brother…"
The old king wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. A man capable of imprisoning his own father would not hesitate to suppress his youngest sibling.
He sighed instead.
"And you? How have you been?" the old king asked gently.
Guilt flickered in his eyes. He had taught his eldest son the arts of war. He had taught his second son the methods of statecraft. But his youngest, he had only hoped Lucien would live freely, untouched by struggle.
He never imagined his older sons would tear the kingdom apart.
Lucien began recounting everything that had happened over the past year: getting lost, building homes, mining stone, cutting lumber, cultivating fields, using the power of Pokémon, forming trade routes, training an army…
The old king listened silently, worry and sorrow repeatedly flickering across his face.
He had read the general outline in Lucien's letters.
But hearing it spoken calmly, plainly, the old king understood just how much hardship must have been buried beneath those words.
Yet…
"My child," the king finally said, "you are still too young. Do you understand the current situation of your brothers?"
Lucien shook his head.
"Your second brother has conquered the entire northern region. His army numbers two hundred thousand. Worse yet, he has gained the support of the True Dragon. Reshiram's flames can incinerate tens of thousands."
"Your eldest brother controls the southern territory with an army just as strong. He has secured the power of the Ideal Dragon. Zekrom can summon blue lightning capable of tearing the battlefield apart."
The old king's voice weakened.
"Lucien, your father doesn't want you involved in this war.I only want you to live peacefully."
Lucien lowered his gaze, thinking deeply.
Yes. His brothers had been acknowledged by Reshiram and Zekrom.
But;
"Father," Lucien said quietly, "what if I told you… I have the strength to fight them?"
The old king froze.
With what? With fewer than three thousand citizens?
Before he could speak, Lucien took several smooth metal-ringed Poké Balls from his belt.
Light burst from them, and enormous silhouettes materialized in the room:
Kyurem. Dragonite. Serperior. Larvesta.
The old king's pupils shrank violently.
"T-These…?!"
Lucien's voice was calm:
"Just as you have Victini, Father, over the past year, I've found my own companions."
"Dragonite. Serperior. Larvesta."
"And this one, its name is Kyurem. A dragon born alongside Zekrom and Reshiram. Its power rivals theirs completely. If Kyurem goes all out… it could freeze half the kingdom in an instant."
Lucien looked into his father's eyes.
"If I use Kyurem's power to stop either of my brothers before war breaks out, if I defeat them, will the conflict end?"
If he could do that, Unova would not be reduced to ashes. The people and Pokémon who should have died in the war might live.
"Freeze, half the kingdom…?"
The old king was stunned. How terrifying must such power be?!
But then, just as quickly, he understood.
Lucien wanted to strike pre-emptively, defeat one brother before the war erupted, force a ceasefire, and save countless lives.
However, the old king closed his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.
"Lucien…"
"You are too kind."
He opened his eyes again, gaze sorrowful yet steady.
"And far too naïve."
"War is never a one-man performance," the old king said quietly.
"Even if you possess overwhelming strength… some sacrifices are unavoidable. Too many people stand behind your elder brothers. They bear too much, they have promised too much. At this point, nothing can stop them."
"Soldiers, knights, nobles, lords, even commoners," he continued. "Everyone has already chosen a side. Soldiers ache for the battlefield, dreaming of glory. Nobles anticipate spoils. Even commoners will enlist, hoping for fame and fortune."
Lucien frowned.
"Then… what if I subdue them with sheer power?"
"That will only breed greater resistance," the old king replied immediately.
"A knight will gladly die for his oath. To fall defending his lord is a glorious end. And nobles," his voice dimmed, "your strength threatens their interests. They will never allow someone to overturn the board so easily. They will oppose you with everything they have."
Hearing this, Lucien felt a tight, heavy knot in his chest.
Was he truly supposed to stand by and watch the war erupt?
Or, should he choose the darker path?
Eliminate everyone who refused to bow their heads, until the whole kingdom knelt?
But Lucien could not do that.
The old king saw the conflict in his son's eyes and sighed softly.
"This is the current of the times. Even if I dislike it, even if you dislike it, war has already taken root."
"Perhaps," he murmured, "only after pain and bloodshed will humans and magical beasts finally understand the value of peace. Only after the land is unified through hardship will there be room for a new future, one where humans and magical beasts walk forward together."
He paused, then looked Lucien squarely in the eyes.
"Tell me, Lucien… do you know how to govern a kingdom?"
Lucien stiffened.
Before transmigrating, he had been an ordinary person. Everything he had achieved so far, his planning, his development, his strategy, had been improvised through instinct… and what he remembered from strategy games like Civilization VI.
The old king continued gently:
"Managing a small territory is simple. But dozens? Hundreds? Countless towns and villages? Can you govern them all alone?"
"You lack the manpower. You lack capable ministers who truly understand national affairs. Even if you conquered territory after territory, problems would pile up. A minor issue today becomes a major one tomorrow. And when millions of small problems accumulate, another war will ignite."
Lucien fell silent.
Because he knew the old king was right.
The conflict between the First Prince and the Second Prince was inevitable.
Nothing he did could stop that avalanche.
He could only prepare.
He had to grow his strength quietly. Build his foundation.
Wait for the right moment.
And, most importantly, the war had not begun yet.
There was still time.