The bells of Elarion rang across the Nation like the opening notes of war.
Three deep chimes.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Every citizen within the capital understood their meaning instantly.
Imperial movement.
From the towering crimson walls of the upper districts to the crowded merchant streets below, activity slowed beneath the weight of invisible pressure. Knights straightened instinctively. Servants lowered their heads. Even conversations became quieter.
Because the Emperor of Peroza was still within Elarion.
And when the Emperor moved—
nations listened.
I stood at the edge of the Ashford arena balcony while attendants repaired the battlefield behind me. The cold morning wind carried the scent of iron, ash, and distant rain through the towering citadel of House Ashford.
Far below, the Red Banner City stretched endlessly toward the horizon.
Elarion.
The military heart of Peroza.
The nation that produced nearly seventy percent of the empire's war personnel.
Soldiers.
Monster hunters.
Beast cavalry.
champions.
Strength ruled here.
Not politely.
Not symbolically.
Openly.
And at the center of that strength stood the Ashfords.
A family terrifying enough that even dragons learned fear.
"Stop overthinking."
Lucien's voice broke through my thoughts.
I glanced sideways.
My eldest brother leaned lazily against a stone pillar while servants attempted to repair the burns still smoking from his ruined shirt.
Attempted.
The servants themselves looked traumatized.
Lucien ignored them completely.
"You're making that face again," he continued.
"What face?"
"The one where you look like you're about to punch a massive hole in a wall or commit treason."
"…I do not make that face."
"You absolutely do."
Selene sighed from nearby. "He really does."
Traitors.
Ceal closed the book he'd somehow continued reading throughout our entire conversation.
"The probability of political complications has increased significantly," he stated calmly.
"That sounds less like analysis and more like destiny foreshadowing."
"It can be both."
Fair enough.
The four of us moved together through the upper halls of the Ashford citadel as attendants and guards stepped aside immediately upon seeing us approach.
The atmosphere shifted subtly wherever Father walked.
And right now—
Kaelith Draven Ashford walked ahead of us in complete silence.
That alone kept the entire corridor tense.
The head of House Ashford wore a long black military coat lined with dark crimson fur across the shoulders. Golden medals and ancient insignias decorated portions of the fabric, though somehow they looked less impressive than the man wearing them.
He did not radiate mana openly.
Men at his level no longer needed to.
The pressure existed naturally.
Like gravity.
The closer I got to him, the more obvious it became why entire nations respected this man.
Not because he was loud.
Because he felt immovable.
An apex predator that had survived long enough to become something worse.
I remembered what Selene once told me years ago within the original draft of Roulette Transmigration:
"Father stopped counting dragons after his fiftieth."
Back then, I wrote the line because it sounded cool.
Now?
Now it terrified me.
Because I could feel it.
The density of his existence itself.
Lucien suddenly grinned.
"You're staring again."
"Can you blame me?"
"No," Lucien admitted casually. "Father's horrifying."
"…You're saying that way too casually."
"He once punched an Elder Dragon through a mountain."
"…What?"
Selene rubbed her temples. "Please stop encouraging him."
"I'm not encouraging him. I'm educating him."
Ceal adjusted his glasses.
"The dragon survived the initial impact, technically."
"That somehow makes it worse."
Lucien laughed loudly.
The servants nearby flinched instinctively.
Normal family.
Absolutely normal family.
As we descended toward the lower imperial district, the architecture around us slowly changed.
The brutal military aesthetics of House Ashford gave way to imperial refinement.
Massive ivory structures rose toward the heavens, covered in gold-lined runes that pulsed faintly beneath the morning light. Crimson banners bearing the imperial crest fluttered between towers while enormous mana-powered constructs patrolled the skies overhead like mechanical gods.
At the center of it all stood the Crimson Palace of Elarion.
Not the true capital palace of Peroza—
but the imperial residence used whenever the Emperor visited the Red Banner Nation.
And today—
its defenses were fully active.
Thousands of elite soldiers surrounded the outer perimeter.
Not ordinary guards.
Real monsters.
I could tell immediately.
Many carried bloodline pressure strong enough to distort the air itself.
Yet even among them—
six figures stood apart completely.
The Emperor's Blades.
I recognized Eldra instantly.
My eldest sister stood near the palace gates dressed in white-and-gold imperial combat attire, silver hair flowing behind her beneath the morning wind. A long spear rested against her shoulder while countless glowing scripture rings rotated silently around her wrists.
Calm.
Elegant.
Deadly.
Standing beside her was a massive man nearly seven feet tall whose dark metallic skin reflected light like forged steel.
Even motionless, he looked less like a human and more like a fortress given life.
The remaining four members stood nearby.
Two from Kion.
Two from Kaligon.
And every single one radiated the same terrifying truth:
These people could probably destroy armies.
The moment we approached—
the palace gates opened.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Which somehow felt more intimidating.
Eldra smiled softly upon seeing us.
"Astaroso," she greeted.
"Sister."
Her silver eyes lingered briefly on the golden runes beneath my skin.
Unlike the others—
she didn't look shocked.
Only thoughtful.
Lucien stretched lazily beside me. "You still babysitting the Emperor?"
The Steel Hercules Beetle user burst into laughter immediately.
A deep booming sound.
"You still refusing imperial duty because you're addicted to violence?"
Lucien pointed casually. "Correct."
"I respect the honesty."
"I respect your face."
"That wasn't even an insult."
"I know."
Selene sighed heavily.
Again.
Eldra ignored them both.
"The Emperor is waiting," she said calmly. "And the Kaligon delegation arrived an hour ago."
That changed the atmosphere instantly.
Kaligon.
The Yellow Banner Nation.
The empire's magical heart.
Researchers.
Archmages.
System theorists.
Relic maintainers.
And most importantly—
the nation responsible for maintaining the Crystal of Awakening on behalf of the Crown of Peroza.
Meaning they understood better than anyone how impossible yesterday's incident truly was.
As we entered the palace halls, I noticed them immediately.
Three figures dressed in layered yellow-and-white ceremonial robes stood near the central chamber entrance.
Kaligon representatives.
Unlike Elarion nobles, they carried almost no visible aura of strength.
No overwhelming bloodline pressure.
No warrior instincts.
No killing intent.
And somehow—
that made them far more unsettling.
Their mana felt controlled with terrifying precision.
Like standing near the core of an active reactor.
The eldest among them slowly raised his gaze toward me.
Ancient eyes.
Sharp enough to dissect thoughts.
Then he spoke.
"The Crystal of Awakening has functioned continuously for one thousand, eight hundred and forty-two years without structural failure."
Silence.
No accusation.
No anger.
Just fact.
Which made it infinitely worse.
Lucien leaned toward me slightly.
"…Yeah, I'd rather fight Father."
I completely understood.
The old scholar continued calmly.
"Yet upon contact with your mana signature, the Crystal attempted forced recalibration before suffering catastrophic rejection."
Every word landed like a verdict.
Ceal's expression sharpened slightly beside me.
Then the massive palace doors ahead slowly opened.
Mana flooded outward like sunlight spilling across an ocean.
And for the first time—
I felt him fully.
Alexander Nox de Peroza
The ruler of the Three Banner Nations.
The sovereign standing above Elarion, Kion, and Kaligon alike.
The man balancing warriors, bloodlines, mages, politics, and monsters beneath a single crown.
And somehow—
the moment his eyes landed on me—
it felt less like an emperor observing a noble heir…
and more like a veteran predator evaluating whether another had just entered his territory.