Vol 3 Chapter 48.2 – Boyhood – Winter at Age 13 – Master Scene

“That is a gift. It is not for my personal use. Even if it happens to be tailored to the exact dimensions of my beloved steed, Durindana, that is merely because the sender’s dragon has a similar physique.”

Without so much as a flicker of his eyes or a single stutter, the emperor told the utterly charmless lie.

The title of Dragon Rider Emperor was not just for show or by whim; it was backed by a long record of soaring through battlefields from a young age, riding a species of dragon known as a wyvern. And the emperor, who still kept his beloved dragon in the Imperial Castle’s dragon stables, had not given up one iota of his yearning and affection for the sky.

“From what I’ve heard, the third airship currently being fitted out… what was it, ah, the Alexandrine? I heard you adopted a mechanism to carry a dragon on that one, as well?”

The self-proclaimed professor, the vampire, muttered that he’d heard complaints from his connections at the Magisterium about what an absurd design it had turned out to be. He watched the emperor for a reaction, but the man who had effortlessly navigated the political world—a realm teeming with monsters and demons—for nearly thirty years did not budge an inch.

“That is only for testing to increase the airship’s survivability. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten, would you? The tragedy of the Kriemhild.”

The airship was the crystallization of the Triple Empire’s prized magitechnology and shipbuilding skills. The basic theory was completed fifty years ago, and these wings of dawn were now in their infancy, with the third experimental ship nearing completion. It was also the cornerstone of a policy meant to bolster national prestige, show off their technological prowess to other nations, and serve as the next “pillar” of prosperity for the Triple Empire, which lacked a seafaring capability despite its vast territory.

The ships, which danced upon the endless ocean of the sky by employing anti-gravity and propulsion formulas via pseudo-magical circuits powered by a mana reactor at their core, were still fraught with problems. Unstable output, and the nature of the sky itself, made recovery from any single incident extremely difficult.

Then there was interference from those who had vied for supremacy of the heavens long before airships took flight. To overcome these myriad difficulties, the little wings were in the process of testing several innovative—or to put it less kindly, outlandish—ideas.

“Say, uh, I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but what kind of taste do you have, naming a ship after your wife?”

“If you’re going to ask if we’ve forgotten, then allow me to say my piece. I remember quite clearly how you strong-armed the start of its construction right after the Kriemhild ran aground from a dragon messing with it, you wasteful emperor.”

“Airships are a technology that will revolutionize future distribution and military affairs! It is not a waste!! And the ship’s name was decided by public poll!!”

The highest authorities of the Triple Empire continued this exchange—one that would have made their followers cough up blood and die on the spot—for a good ten minutes. The one who forcefully cut off the volley of retorts was, once again, the emperor who had spoken first.

“In! Any! Case! I am at my limit! I wish to apply for abdication!!”

He carelessly tossed aside the embodiment of imperial authority he wore on his head—a sight that would have caused any witness not merely to faint, but to drop dead on the spot—and kicked his chair back to stand up.

“I wanted to refuse the second term in the first place! But you all ganged up on me and forced it on me! I don’t care which one of you it is, just take over!”

“Don’t be absurd, Your Majesty! I’m already thirty-two! In human terms, I’m practically as old as you are!”

“It is impossible for me as well, Your Majesty! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep the Merchant and Artisan Guilds in check?! I cannot afford to leave my post right now! If an economic civil war were to break out, we would suffer a fate worse than the invasion the Black-Flag Emperor prevented!! I implore you to reconsider! It is because of you that we have our current peace!!”

“You bastards only call me ‘Your Majesty’ at times like these! In that case, it is an imperial order, so I’m telling you to take over already!!”

The exchange, for which the word “ugly” was far too mild, did not stop until all of them were out of breath.

It was only after they had each drunk a glass of water from the pitcher and cooled their heads that they somehow managed to remember they were “adults.”

They wiped away their sweat or cleansed themselves with a 《Cleansing》 spell and, though it was far too late, put on dignified expressions to face each other once more. And so, if one were to judge by appearances and the topic at hand, began a momentous event that would determine the future of the empire. In reality, it was a ridiculously petty game of musical chairs—where the one left without a seat was the winner.

“Ahem… My sleep has been shallow of late. My cough is worse in the mornings, I tire easily, and I can no longer hide the effects of age on my public duties. As I see it, I am no longer able to fulfill my role as emperor to the best of my ability.”

Laying out a series of plausible reasons, August IV put his crown back on and coughed theatrically. The muffled sound was convincingly pained, but Duke Oerstreich, being well-versed in magic, did not fail to notice the activation of some manner of 《Body-Manipulation Formula》. Perhaps using high-level techniques for such pointless things was a national pastime in this country.

“The man who nearly worked his guards to death by taking off on his dragon to his next destination just because ‘it’s faster’ is talking about old age…?”

“I feel like he was gleefully inspecting the Alexandrine just last week… but perhaps my memory is mistaken…”

The emperor elegantly ignored his two muttering vassals and glanced at the werewolf.

“When the scent of war is strong, it is best for the Graufrock house to ascend to the imperial throne. Speaking of which, I hear the giants of the Great Spirit Peak have been restless lately.”

“Nah, no way they’d show up now. Besides, I’m serious, I really can’t. I’m not confident I’ll even live another fifteen years. And my son is still a bit too inexperienced to hand the family over to…”

Presented with a reason that was exquisitely difficult to refuse, the emperor fell silent. It was true that the life of his friend—a friend who had fought alongside him in many battles and had once helped him escape the Imperial Castle, a bizarre stunt that had gotten his family temporarily banned despite their imperial status—was not long for this world.

The average lifespan of a werewolf is fifty years, and it is rare for even the long-lived to surpass seventy. An age of thirty-two could be considered the point at which a human would begin preparing for a comfortable retirement.

With that, his gaze turned to the vampire. For the emperor, who had weathered countless debates against cunning and seasoned politicians, it was a simple matter to pretend his own earlier recommendation had never happened.

“In that case, to face a mighty foe, a stable and unshakeable national foundation will be of the utmost importance. Therefore, Duke Oerstreich, I believe it is your turn.”

The non-mortal vampire averted his face as if to escape the nomination and let slip, “It’s Professor…” But having a member of a deathless race take the reins of power had certain benefits. They could easily see their initial resolutions through to the end, and they were less likely to act recklessly, lacking the “impatience” that comes with age for mortals. They excelled, above all, at crafting stable, long-term policies.

In fact, the Oerstreich house had a proven track record of advancing the empire’s financial foundations during its periods of stability—or during cold wars disguised as peace. Their race’s inherent nonchalance toward life made them ill-suited for war, but their tolerance for long-term investment was second to none. After all, nations and economies had to be viewed with a long-term perspective of at least five years to see growth.

“Well, it’s been peaceful for a while. We already took care of the big wars.”

“The Eastern Crusade was a difficult affair, indeed. Neither you nor I returned from the battlefield for two years.”

The vampire’s protest of, “I nearly died managing the supply lines and reorganizing the army, you know!?” was completely and utterly ignored. The alliance between the emperor, who had found his justification, and the werewolf, who had decided it was fine as long as the buck wasn’t passed to him, was firm.

Above all, if the Baden and Graufrock houses were to team up, the Elector Houses with deep ties to them would reach four, a clear majority. They would likely be reluctant to see the abdication of an emperor who supported their own houses, but they would not oppose it too forcefully if they considered the favors they might receive when the next emperor was crowned.

“…Why not just cede the throne to His Highness, the Crown Prince? I would support him without issue.”

Succession in the Triple Empire was not hereditary, but the position of Crown Prince did exist to act as the emperor’s regent in an emergency. There were several precedents of a trusted prince receiving the throne from the emperor. This desperate proposal, however, drew a deep, deep sigh from the emperor.

“That idiot son of mine, when I tried to push the throne on him, had the gall to say he’d remarry into his wife’s country…”

“Whoa, whoa, creating a whole new duchy would be a real political pain in the ass.”

“Can he even do that? No, surely he can’t? Divorcing and then remarrying into another family… the gods and the Council of Priests would…”

He’s got deep connections on that side. And he’s very pious. A mutter laden with endlessly heavy emotion seeped into the office, eventually fading into silence. For a time, the vampire’s eyes darted left and right as he fell into difficult thought.

Just as the other two were starting to think about their next political moves, confident they had won, the brilliant mind of the vampire—who had earned the title of Magisterium Professor with his own two hands, not through the authority of the Three Imperial Houses or the power of an emperor—derived a solution.

“I’ve got it! Okay, I’ll pass the family headship to my daughter!”

He declared his ambition to have his own beloved daughter, who had just turned forty, succeed to the supreme throne—a human sacrifice… no, the fulfillment of a grand ambition to place his own bloodline upon the seat of power—and smiled, looking utterly refreshed….