I really need to get serious now.
Falling once was enough—and I know exactly how painful that fall was. If I don't act soon, this whole kingdom might crumble before I even learn how to wear a crown properly.
Alan von Eidenhart, the newly crowned king, sat alone in the dimly lit royal corridor. The candlelight flickered across his face, shadows dancing like the storm in his mind. The silence was broken only by the faint echo of boots approaching—steady, unhurried, confident.
Adwad Gray—the "bodyguard" assigned by the Mariyan Empire—stopped a few steps away and bowed slightly.
"Your Majesty," he began, his tone calm yet unreadable, "I have gathered the reports you requested. I'm afraid the situation is worse than anticipated."
Alan looked up, half-tired, half-amused. "Yeah, figures. Go on—hit me with the bad news."
Adwad hesitated briefly, his sharp eyes glinting under the candlelight. "The noble council is splintering. Three major factions have emerged—the Loyalists, the Opportunists, and the Silent Front. The Loyalists remain true, though mostly out of respect for your late father. The Opportunists… are waiting to see who gains the upper hand. And the Silent Front—" He paused. "—they are already making contact with Mariyan agents."
Alan tilted his head, a wry smile forming. "You're saying the same nobles who were smiling at me during dinner are now writing love letters to your country? That's… surprisingly efficient."
Adwad's expression didn't change. "They are not merely communicating, Your Majesty. They are negotiating. Several noble houses have promised trade and mining privileges to Mariyan merchants. In return, they are receiving weapons, funding, and—rumor suggests—even secret guarantees of protection should instability arise here."
Alan frowned. "Wait. Doesn't your Emperor claim he wants peace? Why would he let his nobles meddle in my kingdom's business?"
Adwad clasped his hands behind his back. "Officially, the Emperor does seek peace. Unofficially… the Mariyan Empire is not a single voice. It is a hierarchy of power. The Twelve Regents who sit beneath the Emperor manage the Empire's trade, armies, and foreign affairs independently. They act for their own profit, often without the Emperor's consent."
Alan rubbed his temples. "So basically, your Empire's a massive bureaucracy full of power-hungry nobles doing whatever they want, as long as they can say, 'the Emperor didn't know.'"
Adwad gave a faint, humorless smile. "A fair assessment, Your Majesty."
Alan sighed. "And our nobles are taking advantage of that mess—offering our gold mines for 'support' when things start falling apart. Wonderful. So they're planning to betray me, start a civil war, and then beg Mariyan to 'restore peace,' right?"
"Precisely," Adwad said. "Once chaos begins, Mariyan will intervene as a peacekeeping ally rather than an invader. The High Council of Nations would have no grounds to condemn them. By the time the truth is known, half of Eidenhart's Mana Redact Gold reserves will already belong to foreign hands."
Alan let out a short, humorless laugh. "Man… this world doesn't mess around. Back home, politics was just people arguing on the internet. Here, it's chess with actual knives."
Adwad said nothing. His silence was as heavy as the flickering air around them.
Alan glanced at him. "You know, it's kinda funny. You're from the Empire that's slowly bleeding my kingdom dry, yet you're the only one giving me honest reports."
Adwad bowed slightly. "My loyalty is to Mariyan, Your Majesty. But my duty is your safety. For now, those paths align."
Alan looked down at his hands. The golden signet ring glimmered faintly in the candlelight. For the first time, the weight of it truly felt real.
"…Then I guess it's time I stop pretending to be a king," he muttered. "And actually become one."
Adwad nodded, his expression unreadable. "Then, Your Majesty, we should begin by building your own inner circle—people loyal to you, not to your father's memory or to the Empire's gold."
Alan's eyes narrowed slightly, determination mixing with exhaustion. "Yeah… loyal people. But finding those in this kingdom might be harder than learning magic."
"Oh, from magic, I've got a random question for you. You ever heard of someone… born without a magical attribute?"
Adwad turned slightly, his expression unchanged. "Without an attribute, Your Majesty?"
"Yeah. Like no light show during the crystal test. Nothing."
Adwad paused, thinking. "Hmm… theoretically, that should be impossible. Every living being is born with mana—even those who never awaken their magic still possess it. Mana is the essence of life itself. Without it, a person simply couldn't exist."
Alan tilted his head. "So, no mana means… death?"
"In a sense," Adwad replied. "Mana is not just energy; it's what connects one's soul to the body. Even animals, plants, and spirits have it. I've never heard of a living creature truly lacking mana."
"Huh." Alan tried to sound casual, but his heart thumped faster. "Guess that's one mystery solved."
He stood, adjusting the small crown that still felt too heavy for his head.
They think it's impossible to live without mana, he thought. Guess I'm already breaking the rules.
"Tomorrow," he murmured quietly, "the real game begins."