TPWTL 102

#102. That Face Will Do.

“Does the Empire, which has no rivals, really need to show military force? The reason is actually very simple, even if your face is asking that question.”

She lightly tapped the continental map spread before her.

“Deterrence of war. For world peace.”

Cryer’s eyebrow, which had been twitching, shot straight up in surprise.

“Norden… so you’re not the one starting wars, right?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t. And Norden without you wouldn’t either. But the continent isn’t just the Empire and Norden.”

Olivia shrugged.

“Even a tiny excuse is enough for the other squabbling nations to start brawling with each other. They’d be so busy fighting over scraps they wouldn’t notice anything else.”

“Hmph, such quarrels are just… disputes, aren’t they?”

“Exactly. But there’s no guarantee that a small dispute won’t ignite a war.”

Olivia glanced at the towering pile of documents and sighed. Most of these were the Empire’s handiwork, coordinating peace across the continent.

Like a web, an anthill—whatever metaphor you choose, the Empire’s peace coordination was finer, more meticulous, and sturdier than anything.

“They’re not exactly that cunning, though.”

“For the sake of the Ancient God or some purification ritual? Well… with Marquis Bonita Heinder involved, political scheming and intrigue can’t be ignored. Of course, since the Marquis has secluded himself for so long, external connections are scarce, so the chances are slim.”

Without taking a breath, Olivia spat out the words and abruptly rolled up the map.

“Even leaving aside such troublesome factors, wars can start for the most absurd reasons.”

And she was right.

Wars between nations. Terrifying to even think about, events that should never happen sometimes ignite without massive catalysts.

A single word. A single action. Or even someone’s old wound being scratched.

Even the tiniest spark can, through chain reactions and conflicting national interests, trigger the immense current of war.

“To prevent even the tiniest sparks, you need a show of force. You can bicker among yourselves all you want, but if it escalates, I’ll come and punish you!”

“Like kids fighting in the neighborhood.”

“Exactly. The Empire is like the adult who watches from afar and steps in to break up the fight.”

Her arrogance could have been infuriating, but Olivia delivered it with complete calm. In the current continent, the Empire was indeed a world apart from other nations, like children versus adults.

“Even that adult got eaten by a monster, though.”

Cryer’s mouth twitched as Olivia squinted.

“The monster listens only to that adult, so it’s fine. Right, adult?”

“That monster talks too much.”

Olivia called Cryer a monster without hesitation, and he accepted it without objection.

To a bystander, it would be an extremely strange scene.

And unfortunately, a certain third party ended up witnessing it.

It wasn’t voluntary. He had only come to report on Sugar’s mark and suffering.

Isaac had even been lingering in the nearby shadows since Olivia covered Cryer’s eyes.

How on earth am I supposed to get out of this…

Unbelievably, Cryer hadn’t even noticed Isaac’s presence immediately, which was bad news for him.

Isaac, who had debated a hundred times whether to leave, suddenly realized that his troublesome master could have deliberately created this atmosphere even knowing he was there.

Damn it. Just go away.

Having overheard the “monster” and “adult” remarks, that monster who listens only to the adult wouldn’t let him go easily.

He had orders to report anything he learned about the mark immediately, so he had to at least report what he knew about Sugar’s mark…

Isaac quietly slipped the formally written report into the urgent document bundle and melted back into the shadows.

Cryer, staring at the spot where Isaac had vanished, finally spoke to Olivia.

“You said you’d return soon.”

“Oh, that.”

“I still want to go with you.”

Olivia, who had been about to explain her answer, froze.

Cryer bent slightly, gently taking her hand in his. He pressed his lips deeply onto the back of her pale, veined hand and whispered,

“My place is by your side. My princess.”

Some time earlier, when Cryer returned to Olivia’s side.

The forest where the imperial hunting festival was to take place was busier than a war, to put it mildly.

There was a saying that the Empire’s palace had everything, and while many believed it, very few truly knew it.

Even those born and raised within the palace didn’t know it entirely.

The forest keeper, who prided himself on knowing the palace forest better than anyone, was shouting with veins bulging on his forehead.

“That’s not the place!”

“Are you crazy? If you release the peacocks there, who will catch them? This is a hunting festival! Not sightseeing!”

“Put the tents properly! Otherwise, you’ll get dust everywhere!”

Naturally, the assistants under the forest keeper were also running around frantically.

“Ah! It’s tipping over, it’s tipping over!”

“Hey! Send a few more people this way to fix it!”

“Everyone! Over here!”

The palace staff, handling the closest on-the-ground work for the festival, rushed about, following the chaotic hand and foot signals.

“My feet are on fire.”

“Then hurry and put it out!”

“It’s not just the soles, even my insteps are burning.”

“Stop whining and move.”

The assistants moistened their dry lips with lukewarm water, lifted the tent poles, and resumed work.

As each person handled their task, the preparations for the hunting festival progressed.

Even though the forest inside the palace was vast, their steps were frantic. Yet slightly apart from the crowd, a man was running.

Dressed as palace staff, his open mouth gave off a scent of dried sweat.

“Hah… hah… hah… hah…”

He ran. He had to run. He couldn’t stop…

• Snap.

A dry branch underfoot broke, making him momentarily lose balance.

“Ah! Uh! Aaaah!”

He barely regained his footing and started running again. His lungs burned, his throat stung like swallowing needles, but he couldn’t stop.

He had to run. Only by running…

Saliva dripped from his mouth; his exhausted thighs cramped, and his flailing arms swung wildly.

Yet he had to keep running. Otherwise…

“This should be enough.”

A calm, dreadful voice pierced the back of his mind.

• Thud!

Despite managing his balance, the man tripped, tumbled forward, kicking small stones and breaking dry branches and leaves.

But it was only momentary.

As he forced himself to lift his head, open his eyes, and rise, he saw the monster.

“Uh… aah…”

Incoherent sounds spilled from his mouth.

He couldn’t step back or forward, frozen in place, staring at the monster looming over him.

When did this happen? The man had fled instinctively like a weak beast when the monster appeared.

Fled, ran, escaped.

Escaped? When did he escape?

His mind was crushed by fear, scrambled by the monster before him.

“Hmm. Yes. That face will do.”

What? What face?

His instinctive question vanished as the monster’s shadowed hand fell over his face.

“Lend me a hand here!”

At the call, the man who had been running through the forest just moments ago walked wearily.

“This is a Norden canopy, so be careful not to damage the feathers.”

“Yes.”

Like any ordinary worker, Tyson—the man’s shell—answered obediently and received the heavy canopy.

Moving against the chaos of others running about, Tyson didn’t appear monstrous at all, contrary to what the man had feared.

“Ah, the feathers are finally here! Thanks. Just place it here.”

After patting Tyson’s shoulder, the caller turned to someone else and shouted, and Tyson stepped back, standing quietly.

No one noticed when Tyson, shuffled around amidst the crowd doing work, quietly disappeared.

“That’s a lot.”

Now at the edge of the forest, standing on a large tree, Tyson looked down at the gathered people like dead fish.

There was no anger in his eyes.

No disgust, no contempt.

In his almost lifeless eyes, the only trace remaining was perhaps resignation.

If Heinder lost a child and love, and wanted to burn the world down, Tyson had nothing to begin with.

So he had nothing to lose. Yet he voluntarily wanted the Ancient God’s mark.

Perhaps he was born that way. Perhaps something had happened.

What did it matter? He was here, wishing for the whole world to be purified.

A voice from the distant past scratched at his ear.

“You were not chosen like him.”