CHAPTER 048
That evening, after the Emperor's covert return, eight noblemen gathered in his second office, exchanging tense glances.
Once the nobles found themselves alone in the office, they hurriedly began their conversation. Despite being the leading noble elders of the capital, who could topple even birds from the sky, they forgot their dignity and whispered in voices smaller than ants, casting their eyes nervously around.
“We must deny everything.”
“Of course. We didn't know anything. Did you know?”
“At times like this, we must all unite and overcome the crisis. Not a single one of us can betray the others.”
“There will be no betrayal. If even one of us confesses, it won't just be us, but our entire families that will be crushed.”
Despite the vast wealth and power held by these noble elder families, their greed knew no bounds.
The nobles, who had benefited from the capital development plan, sold their lands to the imperial family at high prices and no longer needed to farm or log. The serfs and commoners who had made their living on these lands received no compensation and lost their livelihoods overnight, evicted without any sense of responsibility from their lords.
With the immense money received as compensation, the elder nobles turned to nefarious businesses, collaborating with infamous criminal organizations across the continent to run loan sharking and prostitution rings. They lent money to many former serfs who had lost their means of living, charging exorbitant interest rates to ensure they couldn't repay the debts.
They forced these debt-ridden people into signing labor contracts akin to slavery, dragged them into brothels, or sold them to countries where slavery was legal.
The immense profits from these illegal businesses were tax-free, and the lower-class commoners, who were mostly illiterate and couldn't do basic arithmetic, became an inexhaustible source of income. Their businesses flourished, expanding beyond the capital and the empire to the entire continent.
They faithfully paid taxes on the profits from legitimate businesses like trade and mining, ensuring they never fell out of favor with the Emperor.
The Emperor cared about the empire’s prosperity, order, and security, but paid little attention to the lives of lower-class commoners. The nine elder nobles, including Baron Berron, knew they were safe as long as the former serfs stayed out of the Emperor’s sight.
Thus, they drove these people to the outskirts of the capital, exploiting and monitoring them.
“Let’s offer to pay 1.5 times more in taxes to His Majesty.”
“How about we also propose to fund the construction of a bridge to the satellite city next to the capital?”
“Let’s do that. Baron Berron is a war hero who led knights in many battles in his youth. He endured two years as a prisoner in a foreign land; he won't confess. He knows that confessing means the end.”
“Let’s all assert that the rumor about him forcing himself on a young woman is just a smear campaign by opposition forces. Even His Majesty can't ignore all of us.”
Feeling reassured after aligning their statements, the nobles relaxed slightly, leaning back in their chairs.
As the office door opened, the elder nobles hurriedly stood up, preparing to greet the Emperor.
“His Majesty wishes to show his esteemed guests something entertaining.”
Kyle, the aide, entered the office alone, conveying the Emperor’s message.
***
“Wh-where are we going?”
“Aren't we headed to the outdoor theater?”
Expecting to see the performance troupe from the Kingdom of Kedrin that had arrived last week, the nobles' faces grew darker.
Following Kyle, their steps didn't lead to the semi-circular outdoor theater occupying the central rooftop of the palace but instead descended downwards, deeper into the underground levels.
Having never visited the underground of the palace, the elder nobles saw only a spiral staircase twisting downwards, devoid of any sunlight.
Boom. As they descended to the third basement level, a massive stone door they hadn't known existed closed heavily behind them, locking them in.
The nobles, their expressions tense, managed their faces as they followed the torchlight down one more level.
“Th-this place…!”
One of the nobles shouted in realization, his face turning ashen, the sound echoing through the corridor of the deep underground chamber.
The eerie silence in the desolate place sent shivers down their spines as the echo reverberated back to them. As the other seven nobles finally realized where they were, their faces twisted in horror.
The grand and magnificent palace hid this deep, dark torture chamber beneath it.
Known as the place where the empire’s most serious criminals were interrogated, it was a dreaded space used primarily for traitors or spies caught conspiring against the empire, forcing them to confess their crimes and accomplices.
Though they had heard of this place, none of the gathered nobles had ever seen it. Now, surrounded by dark corridors illuminated only by flickering torchlight, they glanced at the numerous doors lining the walls on either side.
There were rumors that anyone brought into these torture chambers would confess their crimes and accomplices within half a day. Yet, the nobles had never actually witnessed any of their peers being dragged here.
Strangely, there was no sound coming from behind any of the doors. The expected screams or cries, typical of a torture chamber, were absent, sending an unexplained chill down their spines.
Then, creak, the last door at the end of the corridor opened, and thud, thud, heavy footsteps echoed as a tall silhouette emerged from the darkness.
Even before his face was illuminated by the light, the elder nobles began trembling at the sight of his form.
A handsome face, wearing a calm smile without a trace of displeasure, emerged from the shadows. As if on cue, all eight nobles fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the floor.
“What are you all doing on the ground? It makes it seem as if you’re guilty of being dragged here. Stand up and raise your heads.”
At the Emperor's gentle words, the nobles slowly rose, sneaking glances at him.
They didn’t even get the chance to offer to pay more taxes or to build a bridge, merely blinking and watching the Emperor before them.
More regal and beautiful than the artwork adorning the palace galleries, his face matched the dark and eerie surroundings perfectly, causing cold sweat to soak their clothes.
The Emperor’s still smiling red lips parted, his lazy voice speaking.
“I summoned you to show you something interesting, so feel free to enjoy it.”
Pointing his long thumb towards a door on the right side of the corridor,
“This is where the leader of your loan sharking and prostitution ring is held….”
Pointing to the left door, he continued,
“And over there is where your accomplice, Baron Berron, is held. Decide for yourselves where you’d like to start.”
His crimson eyes glinted with amusement as he spoke to the nobles in the same unchanging voice.
“I’ve tried to avoid entering the torture chamber personally. Whenever I do, it becomes so deathly silent that it hardly feels like a torture chamber at all.”
The Emperor removed his red gloves, clicking his tongue in disdain.
“It’s disappointing that the notorious leader of a continent-wide criminal organization has such a weak spirit… I had hoped he would put up a bit more of a fight.”
Only then did the nobles realize that the leather gloves he wore had originally been cream-colored. His red boots also showed hints of their original brown color.
As one of the nobles gagged, the Emperor tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow.
“Come to think of it, Lord Charles, didn’t you participate in the Romar Great War with Baron Berron? They say the Baron’s bravery in the face of thousands of enemies was legendary.”
He clicked his tongue again.
“Apparently, those tales were exaggerated. He confessed not only to his own crimes but also to yours in less than an hour after we entered the chamber together. I expected him to last until tonight, but it’s a bit disappointing.”
“Your Majesty, we have committed grave sins! Please forgive us!”
The eight elder nobles prostrated themselves, crying out in unison.
A voice as cold as frost drifted down to their bowed necks.
“It may be hard to believe, but until now, I’ve never dealt with criminals with personal feelings. They broke the Empire’s laws, so naturally, they were punished. But you are different. You have greatly embarrassed me as your Emperor.”
The Emperor slowly knelt before them, reaching out to grab one noble by the hair and lifting his head.
Meeting the chilling gaze of the Emperor, the Count trembled, unable to even utter a sound of fear.
Through gritted teeth, the Emperor spoke softly,
“Unlike Baron Berron, do not ever reveal the hidden ledgers or the list of your accomplices. Do not ever suggest returning your ill-gotten wealth to the Empire. The longer I spend with you in that chamber, the more I think it might soothe my embarrassment.”
The Emperor donned a new pair of cream-colored gloves handed to him by Kyle and signaled with a nod. Imperial guards began dragging the wailing nobles into the left chamber.
Heading towards the chamber, the Emperor asked Kyle,
“Are the preparations complete for the meeting regarding the displaced serfs and the sold Imperial citizens?”
“Yes, all the representatives from the administration are waiting,” Kyle replied.
Entering the chamber, the Emperor gave a brief command,
“Prepare tea and let them know I’ll be there before it cools.”
No sound emerged from the chamber once the Emperor entered.
***
True to his word, the Emperor leisurely changed his clothes and headed to the first office before the tea got cold.
Not only had he obtained full confessions from the nobles, but he had also discovered the locations of the ledgers and lists he sought.
“We’ll start by providing fair compensation to the displaced serfs and finding solutions for their resettlement.”
As Kyle listened attentively, he cautiously asked,
“But Your Majesty, are you serious?”
“About what?”
“About your promise not to help Lady Arabelle during the competition.”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that too dangerous? What if she doesn’t win…?”
The Emperor’s crimson eyes glared at Kyle, silencing him momentarily. Kyle collected himself and continued,
“Of course, Lady Arabelle will win. I believe in her.”
Blushing from his lie, Kyle asked again,
“But what if she doesn’t win the competition? What then?”
“Why would that be a problem?”
“If she doesn’t win, she won’t be able to become Empress, will she?”
The Emperor frowned slightly and asked,
“Who said that? Who said Lady Arabelle couldn’t become Empress if she didn’t win?”
“Well, it’s the rule… That’s why it surprised me that you promised not to help her during the competition.”
The Emperor smirked,
“You misunderstand. I promised not to help her during the competition. But I never promised not to help her afterward. Since I made no such promise, there’s nothing to keep.”
As the two servants opened the doors to the office, the waiting officials rose to their feet.
The Emperor’s words meant that even if Lady Arabelle didn’t win the competition, he intended to make her Empress anyway, leaving no room for objections.
Stunned as if struck, Kyle stood with his mouth agape. The Emperor patted his shoulder before entering the office.
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