The Hidden Side of the Empire’s Turmoil
“Defeated, have they!?”
In a small cabin deep within the mountains of the Empire’s territory, a young man sprang to his feet at the news.
Around him, several aged men knelt respectfully.
This young man was the prince of a small kingdom destroyed by the Granzur Empire. His homeland had fallen when he was still a child, and since then, he had lived in hiding within the Empire together with a few loyal supporters.
“Yes, Your Highness. Furthermore, the Empire has begun imposing new taxes upon our people, and uprisings are breaking out across the land. Many among our countrymen are taking up arms in the name of restoring the homeland.”
“Then now is the perfect opportunity. It’s time to reclaim our nation!”
At the messenger’s words, the young man’s eyes shone, and cheers burst from his retainers.
“Your Highness, now is the time to proclaim yourself king!”
“Yes. The days of living in humiliation, hiding away in the mountains after losing the land our forefathers loved, end here.”
“Let us first gather our hidden forces from across the regions and retake the royal capital!”
“To think our royal capital was reduced to a mere viscounty seat—it’s an outrage! My castle, my lands, my people—we’ll reclaim every last one of them!”
Their voices thundered in the small hut. All of them roared, vowing to end their life of shame and restore their nation’s former glory.
“Shall I lend you a hand~?”
A woman entered. It was Sylphy, the current head of state of the Zilbit Commercial Nation.
“Oh! Lady Sylphy of the Grandale Company.”
The prince greeted her warmly and shook her hand—he knew her well.
It was only natural: when his country fell, it was Sylphy’s father who had helped him and his followers escape and arranged a hiding place within the Empire.
“My Zilbit is an enemy of the Empire now, after all~ And my father wouldn’t be happy to see such friendly folks as you hiding away in the mountains forever~”
Sylphy replied cheerfully.
“Our company can supply all the weapons and provisions you need, of course~ But we are merchants, so it won’t be free, you know~”
“We managed to bring out a fair amount of wealth when the nation fell. Once we reclaim our lands, we can collect taxes again. Lend us your aid.”
“But of course~ As a deposit, I’ve already brought as much as I could~”
When Sylphy stepped outside, a line of wagons was waiting—loaded with weapons and food.
“With this, we can win!”
The young man paid her handsomely in gratitude, and Sylphy accepted it with a smile.
“Then I’ll prepare the next shipment, okay~?”
“Yes, I’ll be counting on you.”
He smiled brightly as she departed—but once she was gone, his expression hardened.
“Damn merchant.”
“Your Highness...”
“I know. We’ve had to bow our heads to merchants just to survive. For now, we’ll have to endure that woman’s arrogance. But once the homeland is restored, she’ll have outlived her usefulness.”
“Indeed, sire.”
None of the men around him trusted Sylphy. To them, merchants were greedy parasites—soulless beings who would do anything for coin. Having to bow to one wounded their pride deeply.
But they couldn’t underestimate the Grandale Company. It was now run by the head of state of Zilbit herself, and even in the resource-starved Empire, it had the power to deliver this much cargo safely. Normally, the Empire would’ve confiscated everything long before.
Though Grandale had sided with Arland, it hadn’t abandoned its influence within the Granzur Empire—it was simply using its wealth to move freely through both sides.
“To think they’d even deal with beastkin—how disgraceful. Enough. We move.”
The prince’s nation had been a human supremacist state under the influence of the Holy Church. To them, all non-humans were “beastkin,” inferior creatures. Naturally, he held no trust for Arland, Zilbit, or the Grandale Company, who all worked closely with those very races.
Spitting on the ground, the young prince began his march to “restore” his homeland.
---
Sylphy’s Point of View
“Was that all right, milady?”
At her subordinate’s question, Sylphy smiled.
“This is just fine~ Now, let’s move on to the next one~”
Sylphy had many connections across various factions. She planned to use every one of them to throw the Empire into chaos.
“But once their purpose is served...”
Her aide knew what she meant—once they were no longer useful, they’d be discarded.
“Oh, they’re small fry. At best, they’ll stir up a little trouble in the Empire~ They’ll never establish an independent state~ And even if they do, they’ll fall soon after~”
Sylphy had no real interest in helping these groups gain independence. Her father had once supported them for strategic reasons, but they’d never amounted to anything. This time, she fully intended to use them up and throw them away—for both her company’s and Zilbit’s benefit.
(Hehe~ This’ll throw the Empire into even more confusion. That’s probably what Princess Alicetia’s aiming for too~ I wonder what she’s really planning~)
Smiling sweetly, Sylphy thought about the future. She had already discerned the real intent behind Alicetia’s invasion of the Empire more clearly than the Empire’s own ministers.
Leaving the nobles and government penniless while taking nothing from the common folk but slaves—Alicetia’s goal was obvious: to spark uprisings from within. Especially in such a fragile empire, the results were predictable.
(But if that’s all, it’ll end too quickly~ I’ll lend a little help~)
If the rebellions were left alone, the Empire—still possessing its formidable First Prince—would suppress them quickly. That was Alicetia’s one miscalculation. Sylphy would make up for it.
By providing supplies and strengthening the rebels, she could ensure the Empire’s struggle dragged on. But in the end, the Empire would still win—its First Prince was that capable.
“Let’s make one more move~”
“... You mean that?”
“The troublesome First Prince needs to disappear~ That’s why we planted our ‘piece’ near him, after all~”
“But, if I may ask... why do you go so far for Arland?”
In the carriage, her subordinate looked at her curiously.
“Because it’s profitable~”
That was all she said—and he couldn’t argue. Arland, blessed by Alicetia’s support in both technology and capital, was developing at an astounding rate. Its scent of vast wealth had already swayed even the previously reluctant merchant elite of Zilbit into supporting closer ties.
The aide suspected there was more to it, but he didn’t press further. He trusted her completely—and that was enough for him.
(I don’t mind telling him, really... that I’m also a descendant of Avalon~)
Sylphy was the descendant of Gorgon, the famed treasurer of Avalon—one of the Twelve at the Round Table. Gorgon had been the mastermind behind Avalon's economic and logistical systems, keeping the kingdom alive even when surrounded by enemies on all sides.
Though officially said to have died with Avalon’s fall, he had in truth survived, and with other survivors of the Round Table, helped found the Multispecies Federation before disappearing again.
Believing that neither the Federation nor the newly founded Arland, created by Lycoris—the heir to the royal line—could survive alone, he had established the Grandale Company, which would grow into the merchant state of Zilbit.
In secret, he maintained dealings that favored Arland and the Federation, ensuring his descendants benefited as well.
Sylphy had inherited both his blood and his secrets. No one outside her family knew of her lineage—not even Arland itself. Gorgon had deliberately cut contact to protect his line from retribution, should either nation fall.
His foresight had been proven right: the Federation had eventually perished, betrayed by its own descendant rulers.
And now Sylphy was plotting something even darker.
The Empire’s fate was sealed—it was to become a sacrifice for the nations under Arland’s leadership. For that, the First Prince had to die.
(Our family motto is “Repay kindness with kindness, and hatred with hatred.” The Empire and the Central Nations Alliance will taste pain far greater than what they once dealt us~)
Even after countless generations, Sylphy still carried that ancient grudge—and her smile was that of a beautiful, merciless demon.
---
Meanwhile, in the imperial capital—
Within the temporary palace, as the old one had been dismantled—two men met.
“So, Father and that foolish brother of ours are dead.”
“Yes, brother.”
The First Prince Nicholas and the Second Prince Otto had always been unusually close.
Nicholas had strong support from the military, but his poor relationship with the emperor—who preferred court politics—had cost him the crown prince’s title. In the Granzur Empire, succession was by appointment.
Otto, though lacking in military skill, was gifted in court politics—but his father had feared his cunning and kept him sidelined.
They had long comforted each other over their shared misfortune.
But after the defeat against Arland, Nicholas had seized the throne, backed by the remaining military factions.
“At last, my era begins. The traitorous vassal states will pay dearly. The Granzur Empire is far from finished!”
Nicholas had a clear plan—to restore the Empire by first stabilizing it internally, then exacting retribution on the rebellious vassals and seizing their wealth to replenish imperial coffers.
“First, we’ll crush these petty uprisings. The vassals can wait.”
“Leave internal affairs to me, Your Majesty.”
“Heh, call me Emperor, will you?”
Nicholas laughed heartily, sipping his wine. The taste was poor compared to what he once had—but he endured it, imagining his name one day recorded in history as a wise and mighty ruler.
Then, suddenly—his chest tightened.
“Gu... this—poison...”
He collapsed from his chair. Otto stood over him.
“You...!”
“To think you still wish to continue this war... I’m disappointed, brother.”
Adjusting his glasses, Otto gazed down coldly.
“You’re not fit to rule the Empire.”
“I... trusted... you...”
Nicholas stared up in disbelief. In a royal family where betrayal was commonplace, Otto had been the one person he truly trusted—someone he had even planned to make chancellor.
“I despise fools. The Empire’s too broken to wage another war.”
By the time he finished speaking, Nicholas was already dead.
Thus was the new emperor born—through fratricide.
But Otto had no idea what was happening beyond the palace walls. His coup coincided perfectly with the outbreak of rebellions throughout the Empire.
“What’s going on!?”
“Uprisings everywhere, sire! The second-class citizens are in revolt!”
“Call the Grandale Company! They promised postwar aid!”
“Reporting! The Grandale Company is gone—emptied out! No people, no supplies!”
Otto had been negotiating with the Grandale Company for reconstruction aid, deceived into believing that Zilbit merely sought to expand its trade network through the Allied Kingdoms—not that it had truly betrayed the Empire.
Otto was intelligent, yes—but inexperienced and naive. A man of words, not wisdom.
“So I’ve been tricked...”
His reign was as short as his brother’s. With Nicholas’s assassination, the army’s morale plummeted.
Leaderless and disorganized, the imperial forces were soon crushed by the rebels.
And Otto himself was assassinated in broad daylight by another member of the royal family.
As the throne again stood empty, countless princes declared themselves the new emperor, rallying their noble supporters and warring against each other.
No power remained to stop the chaos.
And so, the Empire fell into civil war once more.
Time passed—
In Arland, during a council of the Allied Kingdoms, a single sage would soon rise.
What do you think about this chapter?
