On the ninth level of the Imperial Palace, the sky remained a dismal, inky blue.
The crisp sound of hooves striking marble tiles was hollow and monotonous.
Joen gripped the reins in silence, his mind churning like the waters of the Jiang River, unable to find peace.
The Emperor’s meaningful words from moments ago echoed in his ears over and over again.
“The Empire has a 1,400-year history. From the original fourteen territories established by the Great Hero Sinmir, it has continuously expanded. Wherever our iron hooves tread, the land becomes the King’s soil. Today, it is a colossus possessing fifty territories.Among them, twenty-four are Directly Administered Territories, and twenty-six are Borderlands. Joen, you likely do not yet understand the difference between the two.”
The Emperor had stood upon the observation deck, his back to the lights of ten thousand homes, his voice sounding somewhat distant.
“You only need to know one thing. The highest executive of a Directly Administered Territory—the Governor—is personally appointed by me. I can remotely supervise and control their important internal affairs as easily as moving my own arm. In name, the Lord is still the owner of the land, but their claws and teeth were long ago removed. They are mere figureheads who enjoy a generous pension.
But the Borderlands are far away. There, a Governor is a mere formality, and the Lord often acts in the Governor’s stead. I need their unconstrained military edge to suppress alien races and coordinate with my grand army to pacify the realm. However, I also need the Directly Administered Territories to ensure the central government can keep those local tigers in check.
The three southern territories are a special case due to the long-standing Gate of the Abyss, so they have always been classified as ‘Borderlands.’ It is just that being a Lord there is a high-risk profession; they often die under various circumstances, so my control there is slightly stronger.
Regardless, the conflict between the court and the borders is long-standing, and the deep-seated problems are difficult to reverse. The fact that the Dry River Territory belongs to the Borderlands is set in stone. In the eyes of the nobles here in the Empire Capital, the disaster occurring there is a local matter that has nothing to do with them.
If you want to persuade this group of stingy penny-pinchers to take meat from their own plates to facilitate aid for a Borderland disaster… Joen, you might have to pay a significant price.”
The Emperor’s meaningful, mocking gaze still felt as if it were right before his eyes.
—
The cold wind swirled the fallen leaves on the ground.
Joen had originally thought that by using his title as the Hero, backed by his achievements and determination, asking for disaster relief funds for the Doom Victims would not be this difficult, even if it wasn’t easy.
The floodwaters were already unspeakably foul, but he never expected that the chasms in the human heart would be even deeper than those breached levees.
As the Evening deepened, the Empire Capital did not go to sleep.
On the contrary, this most dazzling pearl of the continent was currently displaying a bewitching prosperity.
Magic-powered colored lights were hung along every street and tower as if they cost nothing, illuminating the night sky like broad daylight.
Radiant chariots weaved through the wide bluestone streets.
Soft laughter and whispers of noblewomen drifted from behind carriage curtains, and wherever the wheels rolled, a faint, hazy layer of gold dust seemed to settle.
Young men and women dressed in magnificent attire were even more energetic than they were during the day.
They chased and played in the streets and alleys or raised their glasses in open-air taverns.
The music of bards, the laughter of noblewomen, and the cries of night vendors intertwined into a song that was both peaceful and cruel.
There was no hunger, no cold, and no shadow of death.
The flourishing age was like paradise.
But as Joen looked around at the brightly lit streetscape, a different set of images from the depths of his memory surfaced—
It was the turbid, yellow, surging floodwaters.
It was the corpses, white and bloated from being soaked.
It was the young children whose mouths and noses were blocked by silt, their eyes refusing to close even in death.
The stench of corpses rushed into his mind.
The scent of expensive powders and perfumes suddenly turned putrid at that moment, intertwining with that stench and making him feel nauseous.
Joen leaned against a decorative tree adorned with lanterns and ribbons by the roadside.
His stomach turned, and he began to retch violently.
The disparity of the human world felt like an iron hook shoved down his throat, churning incessantly.
“Friend—”
Just then, a warm, soft little hand gently patted his cheek.
Liya crawled out from his gold-embroidered robes, her pink eyes filled with concern.
Joen waved his hand at her, forcing a strained smile.
“Lily, I’m fine.”
—
Upon returning to the envoy’s hostel, Joen did not go inside.
Instead, he sat silently on a bench in the garden.
The Rear Courtyard was much quieter.
Only the night sky above watched the land in silence.
The starlight was distant and cold, as if it were a gaze cast from another world—neither compassionate nor mocking, simply existing.
Joen tilted his head back, looking at the starry sky, his voice sounding dejected.
“Tell me, is everything in this world this difficult?”
He had thought that after doing so much, even if he wasn’t at the finish line, he should have at least been halfway there.
But looking at it now, the finish line was still so far out of reach, and even the starting point had vanished without a trace.
He couldn’t help but feel a sense of discouragement and pain.
‘Is everything I’ve done truly meaningful?’
Liya tilted her small head, gazing back at Joen.
For a long, long time, she said nothing.
She simply grabbed his robes and climbed onto Joen’s lap at a steady pace.
She was tiny, like an exquisite doll.
She imitated Joen’s posture by looking up at the sky, then shook her head.
“That’s not true.”
She turned around and opened her short arms toward Joen.
Although she couldn’t wrap them around the Hero’s broad waist, she pressed herself tightly against him.
“At least, Love is simple.”
“Hey, Friend! Lily loves you!”
Liya comforted him using the most effective method she knew, and it was indeed effective.
The wind seemed to stop.
The night-blooming jasmine in the garden opened quietly, releasing a mysterious fragrance.
The chirping insects in the grass also ceased their noise, as if they were all leaning in to listen.
The soft sensation of the girl against his chest was transmitted through the brocade robe into Joen’s body.
It was a very strange feeling—like a traveler who had trekked through the dead of winter, his hands and feet long since frozen, suddenly receiving a bowl of steaming sweet soup.
It was like someone lost in an endless night looking up to see a single lamp left lit by his wife at home.
Joen felt his heart, which had hardened under the blows of reality, beginning to warm and melt bit by bit.
He lowered his head, cupped Liya in his hands, and buried his face in her soft hair that carried a faint milky scent, gently inhaling the aroma that brought him peace.
“I love you too, Lily.”
“Alright, Friend, go to sleep. Once you wake up, you’ll have the strength to keep working hard tomorrow!”
Liya patted his abdominal muscles as if coaxing a child.
“Yeah.”
Joen obediently went back to his room to sleep.
—
After confirming the Hero’s breathing was steady and that he had entered dreamland, Liya quietly crawled up.
She pulled a large bag of Water Attribute Demon Crystals, which she had set aside previously, from their luggage.
The crystal-clear Demon Crystals shimmered with an alluring luster under the moonlight.
‘Whew… The Empire Capital is truly a place where treasures and extraordinary people gather. It’s time I got moving too,’ she murmured to herself.
She hadn’t been in a rush for Advancement before because she feared that if she still had a pure support template after advancing, she would end up staring blankly with nothing but support skills.
Rather than that, it was better to tilt resources toward her tribe and build the foundation first.
Now that the situation in the Dry River Territory was temporarily stable and the tribe’s development was booming, Liya felt it was time to “make some progress” herself.
Of course, the most important factor was the Empire Capital itself.
She had left a few connections here in the past.
Now that she was revisiting the place, she desperately hoped she could control more liquid and condense a body close to the size of a normal person.
She wanted to disguise herself as the “genuine Demon Lord Liya” to make contact with various factions.
‘Tier 4… I hope I get a good skill.’
Liya took a deep breath and began to Devour the Demon Crystals.