At that moment, in the Imperial Palace, Ascal, who was earnestly working on his plan to resign from his position with the Emperor's permission, faced an unexpected situation.

 

"Count, try this. I've managed to get the new dessert that they only bake ten of each day."

 

"Count, could you tell me your measurements? It's about time to get some new clothes, don't you think? I'll gift you something that suits you."

 

"Count, my daughter is quite virtuous."

 

Grown adults were following Ascal around like chicks, trailing behind him.

 

Don't they have anything to do?

 

Right. Nobles generally have nothing to do.

 

Without realizing it, Ascal was being called the Count of Erindale, the leader of the emerging noble faction.

 

Among the flatterers, it was said that he had successfully established an independent faction, not aligned with the staunch factions of the Crown Prince, the Second Princess, or the Third Princess.

 

And the Emperor himself was acting as the advisor to this noble faction.

 

"Hmm…"

 

Ascal hummed, seemingly in deep thought.

 

Immediately, Viscount Seynan rushed over.

 

"Do you have a concern, Count? Your worries are mine, allow me to share the burden."

 

How sweet.

 

This was a typical trait of the central nobility.

 

Unlike the territorial nobility, who had their own solid lands and soldiers, the central nobility in the capital had to survive purely on their own skills and developed a strong sense of mutual aid. In Viscount Seynan's mind, he and Ascal were one.

 

"I'm concerned about the land granted by His Majesty."

 

Ascal had received the land of Erindale from the Emperor.

 

If comparing to cuts of beef, it would be the chuck eye roll, or in terms of chicken, the neck - practically a land needing no governance, given as a nominal gift by the Emperor.

 

But in Ascal's heart, the triangle of desire was still alive; it was in a condition that could still attract one or two people in a second-hand market.

 

"And what of it, Count? Who manages your land these days?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Leave it to a deputy. That's what everyone's doing nowadays."

 

"…!"

 

Ascal had an epiphany.

 

He had underestimated this pseudo-medieval era; they were already adopting an auto-management system.

 

Indeed, it was more rational for a competent deputy to manage the land than the rapidly rising himself.

 

"If you wish, I can recommend someone capable of managing your land."

 

"Thank you. I'll consult with you later."

 

Viscount Seynan smiled.

 

Ascal also responded with a smile.

 

No matter how convenient modern systems and tools are, they merely imitate what humans can do. If possible, it's best to directly employ humans.

 

And nobles were a privileged class with the power to command others at will.

 

They don't have to lift a finger themselves, delegating everything to others. 

 

Is this what noble life is about? It's too convenient.

 

At this rate, he might just fall into the decadence of nobility.

 

'Snap out of it, Ascal.'

 

Ascal slapped his own cheek.

 

At first glance, the life of a central noble seemed perfect, but it had a fatal flaw.

 

Their average lifespan was short.

 

Throughout history, nobles who chose the wrong side often went down in flames with their choices.

 

The life of central nobility might seem easy, but it was actually a fierce political battlefield, filled with subtlety and line battles. 

 

It was not that Viscount Seynan and Baron Trinio mindlessly followed Ascal like stalkers without reason.

 

With the line of Duke Sebes gone, they were simply dazzled by the sudden appearance of Ascal, a golden opportunity.

 

'I'm sorry about this.'

 

But they too would soon realize.

 

That the rope of Ascal might just as suddenly and swiftly vanish, a rotten rope...

 

 

"Everyone's gathered here, I see. Haha."

 

"Your Majesty!"

 

"We greet Your Majesty!"

 

"Relax. Are we not all familiar here? No need for such formalities and ceremonies among us."

 

The Emperor, with his hands clasped behind his back, strolled through the imperial garden.

 

Always hunched shoulders, and a voice raspy from coughing, he usually appeared older than his actual age. But lately, things have changed. 

 

Ever since he started drinking crystal tea, his condition had gradually improved, and now his complexion was remarkably better.

 

"Come now, the weather is splendid. Let's all have some crystal tea."

 

Drinking crystal tea had become a ritual among the emerging noble faction. As a testament to their eternal friendship and solidarity, they would drink crystal tea together…

 

"Speaking of which, Count Erindale. I've never seen you drink crystal tea."

 

"I thought it best that others, more deserving than a young one like me, should partake in such a precious tea, so I refrained."

 

"Count Erindale."

 

The Emperor looked at Ascal with a solemn expression. Ascal felt a twinge of apprehension.

 

"I am always grateful to you. There have been many events recently. Only now have I realized how incompetent and foolish an emperor I have been."

 

"Your Majesty, what are you saying…"

 

"All this time, you've been near me without ever asking for a small favor or request. Only concerned about my health. Yes, fundamentally different from those rotten ones who always sought their own interests under the guise of serving me."

 

"No, Your Majesty. I merely..."

 

"But Count, excessive loyalty can become a poison. I have come to regard you as no different from my own son."

 

The Emperor smiled and personally poured crystal tea into Ascal's cup.

 

"It's time for you to take care of yourself. Come, Count. Have a drink."

 

"Your Majesty…"

 

Ascal looked down at the crystal tea.

 

It shimmered enchantingly in purple.

 

Today, too, he had watched feeding the gem frogs and producing the ingredients for crystal tea on his way here.

 

"I will drink it gratefully."

 

Ascal was so moved that he shed tears.

 

The Emperor nodded in satisfaction.

 

 

"Truly delicious… truly…"

 

"Haha. It's the tea someone brought, of course. But, is there no way to learn the recipe for this tea? I would like to make it a national treasure of the empire if possible."

 

"The foreign merchant who told me about it wouldn't share."

 

"Well, it's such a precious tea, that's understandable."

 

Ascal firmly vowed to take the secret of the crystal tea to the grave.

 

 

"Son, I'm here."

 

"Why are you here, Father?"

 

"Lucia said you called for me."

 

Ascal was surprised when he went out to see the unexpected visitor. It was none other than his father, Arthur Debrue, who had come to the capital.

 

Now that he thought about it, Lucia's letters, which were always sent like spam, contained such content.

 

 

In this era, that was a natural course of action.

 

When one person rises to power, they place as many relatives and friends in positions as possible.

 

Of course, if that person falls from grace, the rest also cross the same Jordan River, so putting all your eggs in one basket is a significant risk.

 

 

That was the gist of his indirect refusal, but Lucia interpreted it as 'send Father,' and thus sent him to the capital.

 

Ascal decided not to consider the possibility that Lucia sent their father to the capital simply because she couldn't stand seeing him idly swinging his sword and leisurely riding horses at home.

 

"How about we watch the festival while you're here?"

 

"Sounds good."

 

The work was mostly done by the Crown Prince. The Emperor was in a good mood. The treasury was full.

 

These three factors often lead to festivals being held at the imperial palace whenever there's a lull.

 

Today the weather is nice, let's have a festival; today the tea tastes good, let's have a tea party; today a horse has given birth, let's have a festival.

 

Thus, more than ten festivals had been held.

 

Ascal could understand why the current Emperor was called a tyrant. The Emperor was fickle and mood-driven.

 

"There's a horseback tournament."

 

"Indeed."

 

Horseback tournament.

 

The topmost entertainment in this era that one could watch.

 

The reason was simple.

 

In an era where only the strong survive, knights were naturally treated as alpha males. And what happens when alpha males ride horses and joust with lances or swords, sweating out in a duel?

 

And it was sometimes so intense that it could be fatal?

 

It was a sport that stimulated men at a genetic level. Naturally, ladies and noblewomen seeking their own knights often attended these tournaments.

 

And the victorious knights sometimes disappear with the ladies' hands in theirs.

 

In a broader sense, horseback tournaments could be seen as a microcosm of society.

 

"I should participate."

 

"Wait. Father?"

 

Ascal tried to stop Arthur.

 

He had summoned his father to the capital, only to make him participate in a dangerous tournament where fatalities were not uncommon.

 

But without a chance to intervene, Arthur went to the tournament registrar, had a talk, and then entered the waiting room.

 

"See you later, son. I might bring back a new stepmother for you today."

 

"Father!!!!!"

 

 

Several hours later: