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Even the most revered nobles of the Empire had to lower their heads in the presence of the Emperor. The Lords were just those who had been granted governance over their territories by the Emperor.

This meant that the Emperor could seize all territories at will.

Not merely in name but in actuality.

The Lords could only raise an army at a level that was necessary for maintaining public order. Furthermore, out of the trained soldiers, a third of them had to be incorporated into the central army.

Thus, in some poorer territories, only training camps existed, devoid of a proper army.

Since they lacked the luxury to dispatch their trained soldiers to the central army, they often chose not to complete their training.

Of course, in regions where maintaining public order was impossible, the central army was stationed. However, no Lord welcomed their presence.

That was because the commanders of the dispatched central army held an equal rank as the Lords.

Naturally, they solely followed the Emperor’s orders, thus they weren’t easily swayed by the requests of the Lords.

The foundation of power in any era was authorised violence. One couldn’t be deemed a ruler if they couldn’t freely command an army.

In other words, if a Lord wanted to retain even a modicum of independence, they had to somehow muster a military force.

This was why some Lords resorted to cunning strategies to maintain their troops.

The Imperial Family wasn’t entirely merciless. Depending on the circumstances of the territories, such obvious deceptions were often overlooked.

However, only within certain bounds.

If any action was deemed to threaten the authority of the Imperial Family, retribution was swift and severe.

There was no need to get their hands dirty directly. After all, the Imperial Family had the support of the five major noble households.

Once any of these 5 noble houses took action, no force in the Empire could withstand them.

Whether through physical force or wealth, any territory that dared offend the Imperial Family soon found itself succumbing to their pressure.

Such was the absolute power wielded by the Imperial Family.

And since the Empire was undeniably the most powerful nation on the continent, the Imperial Family could easily be considered the most influential power in the land.

Cien hailed from that very Imperial Family.

Although she was only the Fifth Imperial Princess and far from the line of succession to the throne, the fact remained that she was a princess.

The blood coursing through her veins was distinguished and noble. Therefore, diplomats from all nations had to respectfully bow before her.

This was a reality she had taken for granted since her birth; something Cien never once questioned.

The only exceptions were the Bishops of the Holy Nation and the royalty of the Ten Southern Kingdoms. Even they, when in her presence, did not have the luxury to act however they desired.

Even in the Academy, which on the surface preached ideals of equality and fairness, things were no different. By virtue of her lineage alone, Cien commanded respect from numerous students.

Moreover, for some reason, Cien had a deep understanding of human psychology. For someone like her, playing the role of the ideal princess wasn’t challenging at all.

Not even a year after her enrollment, voices praising the princess echoed throughout the Academy.

This was precisely what Cien had aimed for.

After all, a positive image could prove beneficial in many ways. This was true even when gathering loyal followers. Based on this, Cien was recruiting talents within the Academy.

This, of course, didn’t mean she had an interest in the throne.

From the beginning, her position in the line of succession was so low that she couldn’t even dream of pursuing the throne. Moreover, Cien despised her siblings who were obsessed with the imperial throne.

Rather than becoming someone blinded by power, plotting against her own kin, Cien chose to distance herself from the throne. All she desired was enough power to protect herself.

However, even that modest goal required power.

Countless members of the Imperial Family had been killed merely for having a claim to the throne. The Empire’s political landscape was brutal and absolute power tolerated no contenders.

Before her name could be added to the imperial hit list, Cien desperately needed to establish an excellent organization. Otherwise, she risked becoming a mere footnote in the blood-stained political history of the Empire.

Her plan was clear. It involved gathering talented individuals, forming a power base, and, at the decisive moment, lending support to a prominent heir to the throne. Then, she wanted to lead a comfortable life somewhere away from the center.

That was Cien’s goal and her dream.

And to achieve it, she needed numerous talents. That was also one of the reasons she couldn’t resist stepping into the Academy, where geniuses and prodigies from all over the continent congregated.

Above all, Cien herself was a raw gem with outstanding magical talents. The Academy held the potential to refine a talent, still in its raw form, into a dazzling jewel.

For those reasons, she enrolled in the academy, and one day, during her tranquil life in the Academy, an interesting rumor reached her ears.

“Ian Percus, you say…….”

On a leisurely afternoon, the princess sipped fragrant tea while quickly perusing through a document.

It detailed personal information, starting with a description of a handsome man with black hair and captivating golden eyes, followed by an array of particular details about him.

It was a series of intriguing records. A shade of interest flickered in her light gray eyes.

“…Could the second son of some countryside Viscount really accomplish so much in barely under two months?”

As she murmured to herself, a knight standing behind her chose to speak.

A woman with neatly tied blue hair; she wore a smirk and slightly tilted her head.

“It’s likely an exaggeration.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

The princess placed her teacup down and replied with a peculiar tone.

If the statement had come from anyone else, it might have been questionable. But from this woman, the words carried credibility.

She was a member of the renowned Imperial Guard and the daughter of the Lupermion household, one of the five most prestigious households in the Empire.

Her name was Irene Lupermion.

As Cien’s closest aide, Irene oversaw Cien’s escort details, even at the Academy.

However, if one thought about it, it was slightly amusing.

Irene had long since graduated from the Academy.

Hailing from one of the Empire’s top noble households, she had been admitted to the Academy early at the age of seventeen.

Though not at the very top of her class, she had consistently secured exceptional grades and graduated three years ago with an admirable rank.

Afterwards, she served as a member of the Imperial Guard until being chosen as an aide to Cien. When Cien decided to attend the Academy, Irene found herself returning to this familiar place.

Irene vividly remembered her feelings on that day.

Life is so unpredictable, she thought with a wry smile.

At graduation, she had bid farewell to the academy, assuming she would never return.

Lost in these memories, Irene subtly tried to fathom her Lady’s thoughts.

“…Has Her Highness taken a liking to that man?”

“A bit. He lacks background, after all. Being the second son of a countryside Viscount means he likely won’t inherit any title. He seems fitting to serve under me.”

It was a blunt assessment. Irene’s face displayed a faint smile, as if she had expected such a response.

She paused briefly, then gave the response Cien was likely waiting for.

“While the evaluation he received might be exaggerated, his rapid rise is indeed noteworthy. Of course, rumors of him defeating the heir of the Yurdina family or single-handedly subduing a demonic human on his own are likely not true.”

“But there are witnesses, aren’t there?”

“As one builds more favorable relationships, their evaluation tends to become exaggerated. That in itself, is impressive… though it’s just a guess, I believe he might have qualities of a good leader.”

The princess closed her eyes upon hearing this, indicating that she was deep in thought.

Shortly after, a soft chuckle escaped her lips as she looked at Irene with a smile.

“If we successfully recruit him, it would be good for you, right? He’s handsome, after all. It’s about time you considered marriage…”

“Your Highness, I’ve decided to marry my sword.”

It was a rather stoic view on life for a woman in her mid-twenties.

Cien sighed deeply, as if all the energy had drained from her.

Actually, it was wrong to joke with Irene. After all, she was a woman who, from relentless training, knew nothing but her sword.

Though her single-mindedness has its own charms, the princess pondered in silence.

One way or another, it seemed like she should at least see the man’s face.

Then she’d know what kind of person he was.

Unconsciously, Cien touched the corner of her eye, and soon, a wry smile appeared at the edge of her mouth.

Irene’s puzzled gaze shifted towards Cien, unaware of the reason for such a wry smile on her Lady’s face.

Perceptive, the princess caught on to Irene’s confusion. She quickly decided to shift the mood.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, the princess playfully teased.

“According to the documents, his nickname is ‘Hatchet Murderer.’ Will it be safe? What if he tries to attack me?”

At that, Irene shook her head in disbelief.

She soon responded with a faint smile and a steady voice.

“You need not worry, Your Highness. The Imperial Guards entrusted with your protection aren’t so feeble as to be defeated by a mere child.”

Indeed, it was as she said.

Cien chuckled, indicating that she was only joking.

In fact, it was a remark she regretted as soon as it slipped from her lips. Because it bordered on impossible.

Cien, being a princess, wasn’t someone who could be touched by a mere second son of some countryside Viscount, considering her status alone.

Moreover, she was not only guarded by Irene, but three other members of the Imperial Guards. And as is typical of the Imperial Guards, they were all renowned experts on the continent.

To think someone could breach this ironclad protection and attack Cien?

It was absurd. She quickly dismissed the irrational thought from her mind.

Instead, she sank deep into thought. Recalling a task assigned by the palace, she found a newfound reason to meet him.

Now that she had a purpose, there was no room for hesitation.

Without delay, she stood up. Taking immediate action upon reaching a decision was one of her strengths.

It didn’t take long for her to locate Ian.

Sitting on a wooden chair in the central avenue, a man meticulously examined a canteen.

With black hair and golden eyes, he looked exactly as described in the documents.

It was Ian Percus.

He was looking at the canteen with a very serious look on his face, leaving Cien confused as to why he would be so engrossed in such an ordinary object.

Though it didn’t matter. After all, meeting with the princess was far more significant than observing any canteen—this was common knowledge even for a three-year-old in the Empire.

Ahem, Cien cleared her throat softly, trying to catch his attention. Simultaneously, the man’s indifferent golden eyes met hers.

A hint of surprise flickered across his face upon spotting her.

Then, furrowing his brows slightly, he slowly stood up.

His left hand went to his right chest. Following that, he respectfully bowed his head.

It was a flawless greeting.

“…It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”

A glint of satisfaction gleamed in Cien’s eyes.

She had worried because he was the second son of a countryside Viscount, but, surprisingly, his manners were impeccable.

At the very least, it seemed she wouldn’t need to worry about any social blunders happening if he were to serve as her close associate.

At that moment, her assessment of Ian elevated in her mind.

Up until that point, Cien had believed that today’s meeting would be relatively pleasant.

Yes, up until that point.

It was only a few minutes before Cien would regret looking down on this man.