Chapter 901

Silence.

Perfect silence settled over the Grand Banquet Hall. Not even the faintest breath could be heard.

Along with it came countless eyes, wide with shock, all fixed on one person.

What… did he just say?

What on earth did I just hear?

Everyone wondered the same thing. As they stared at the young man, they recalled the words that had just rung through the hall.

“Kill them if you want, or spare them if you want. Isn’t that what Your Majesty does best?”

Everyone had heard him clearly.

They doubted their memories once, twice, ten times, but reality refused to change. Forgetting all about decorum, people gaped at him, barely managing to swallow the curses on the tips of their tongues.

That crazy bastard.

Even crazy bastard fell far short of describing what Jin Taekyung had done.

He had provoked the Emperor to his face.

Mocked him.

The Emperor, of all people.

The usurper who had cut down tens of thousands of political enemies like a farmer reaping a harvest, then built the strongest centralized regime since Taizu, founder of the Great Nation.

He’s insane. Completely insane.

The officials in the lowest seats, their ranks too low to sit anywhere else, and even the high-ranking ministers at the heart of the political world all turned deathly pale and pressed their lips together.

Something had happened that could never be allowed to happen.

Calling it treason would hardly be a stretch. What came next was obvious.

They would die. Die, and die again.

Jin Taekyung and his entire family, along with everyone connected to them, would vanish like dew on the execution ground.

And there was every chance the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s death list would include several people with no connection to any of it.

The late Emperor’s loyal subjects.

It wasn’t hard to predict that some of those who considered Prince Shangshan the rightful heir would become targets.

Evidence? Justification?

Neither mattered.

Both could be manufactured.

Once the torture instruments tore through their flesh and muscle, even the most loyal subject would writhe in pain and beg for death.

The imperial torturers knew how to turn lies into truth and truth into lies. That work had once belonged to the East Depot, but it had long since passed to the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

In other words, the sword was in one man’s hands alone.

The Emperor’s.

One order from him, and it would all be over.

Jin Taekyung had already given him grounds for punishment. No one could say whom the Emperor’s blade might cut down.

Even if the final target were Prince Shangshan.

How could he do something this absurd? What on earth is he thinking…?

Grit.

Some of the assembled officials clenched their teeth to hold back groans.

Each of them either supported Prince Shangshan in secret or had signed the pledge and dreamed of a restoration. To them, the whole situation felt like a terrible calamity.

Jin Taekyung had entered the imperial court as Prince Shangshan’s guest. The prince wouldn’t be able to escape responsibility, either.

Heh… So Heaven’s Mandate is leaving the Great Nation.

Those who knew nothing of the restoration lamented the heavens.

The plan’s gone off course, but we have no choice. We may have to act right now…

Those who had signed the pledge steeled themselves and watched Ma Sanbao, their faces rigid. The moment he gave the order, they would move.

But then—

“Yes. You are right.”

The Emperor broke the long silence, plunging everyone into shock once more.

“And a man who wishes to become a sage king does not punish those who speak the truth.”

“…!”

“…!”

“Jin Taekyung of the Jin Family of Taiyuan.”

Standing at the center of the silence, the Emperor continued evenly.

“In the name of the Son of Heaven, I forgive the disrespect you have shown me.”

Forgive.

He’d said he forgave him.

The very man who had ruthlessly slaughtered tens of thousands.

The cruel Emperor who had launched a rebellion and a great purge.

Everyone who had been at a loss for words stared blankly at the back of the absolute ruler—everyone except one person.

Reading the sliver of emotion the Emperor hadn’t quite managed to hide from his face, Jin Taekyung muttered to himself.

So that’s how you’re playing it.

Provoking the Emperor had been a gamble with his life. If it failed, it could throw every plan the restoration army had made into disarray.

That’s why it had to be now.

And the gamble had paid off.

He had gained a crucial key. The Emperor’s answer had also settled a question he’d hardly dared ask himself.

Forgiveness, after that? It makes no sense.

Except in one case.

Jin Taekyung quietly swallowed the rest of his thought.

The scattered pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. His head, which had felt ready to burst moments ago, gradually cleared. As his mind settled, a new path came into view.

But he still didn’t have every answer.

But why on earth…?

He started to send the Emperor a Sound Transmission.

Or rather, he would have, if someone hadn’t arrived just then.

“How heartening to hear that Your Majesty wishes to become such a merciful sage king.”

“…!”

Jin Taekyung reacted a little faster than the Emperor. Baek Yeon reacted faster than Taekyung.

Somewhere only five jang¹ away, an old man with pale skin appeared without a sound. In a hoarse, aged voice, he continued, cupping his hands toward the Emperor.

“The late Emperor would be pleased as well. Would he not?”

Rustle.

The old man slowly raised his head, setting his long white hair swaying.

The Emperor’s stiff face was reflected in gray eyes that held the weight of many years. A dry voice emerged between cracked lips.

“Your servant Wei Zhong, Seal-Holding Eunuch of the East Depot, pays his respects to Your Majesty.”

The moment I saw Wei Zhong, I reflexively thought of an old fantasy movie I’d watched as a kid.

A vast fantasy world. A party of heroes from different races setting out to destroy a certain necklace that was the source of the Demon King’s power.

And one of its central characters: an old mage.

“…Gandalf?”

The white hair that looked long enough to reach his knees. The gray eyes.

Strictly speaking, he looked more like a very sick Gandalf, but I couldn’t deny the resemblance.

The slight problem was that I’d said it aloud without realizing.

Ah.

I shut my mouth as soon as I caught myself, but it was too late. Everyone who’d briefly looked elsewhere had turned back to me, including the Emperor.

And the very sick Gandalf. Wei Zhong.

“You must be the very man I’ve heard so much about.”

What was I supposed to say to that?

I thought it over for a moment, then gave a small nod instead. Wei Zhong let out a snort and turned back toward the Emperor.

“A truly rude man. Wouldn’t you agree, Your Majesty?”

The Emperor didn’t answer.

He gazed at Wei Zhong with eyes sunk deep in thought, and only spoke once the air around them had grown so cold it seemed frozen.

“I was about to send someone for you, since you were nowhere to be seen… It’s been a long time, Cang Gong. Have you been well?”

“After a rather long period of recuperation, I’ve finally recovered enough to move about. I owe it all to Your Majesty’s grace.”

“My grace? Are you certain?”

“Even the finest physicians couldn’t guarantee I would live. Seeing how much I’ve recovered, surely it must be Heaven’s will. And so I owe it all to Your Majesty, the Son of Heaven.”

“That’s unfortunate. If you’d had the decoction made as the imperial physician I sent advised, you might have overcome your illness sooner.”

“I beg your forgiveness. However, I feared my old body couldn’t withstand the medicine prepared by the imperial physicians, so I had no choice but to recuperate instead. But…”

Concern suddenly clouded Wei Zhong’s face as he studied the Emperor.

“Perhaps it has simply been too long since I last saw you, but Your Majesty does not look well. Has illness taken hold of your august person?”

“…!”

A chill passed through the Emperor’s eyes, already hard with displeasure.

“There’s no need to worry. It isn’t as bad as you fear.”

“Then I’m greatly relieved. Now that you’ve become a sage king who shows such mercy, you must rule the realm for ten thousand years—ten thousand times ten thousand years.”

I could feel it.

The invisible blades the Emperor and Cang Gong kept trading.

And the immense qi now pouring from the Emperor.

Rrrrmmm.

The air around us churned. Several nearby officials went pale and trembled as though seized by a chill.

His title overshadowed it, but the Emperor was a Supreme Peak master who had entered the realm of the superhuman.

But…

Cang Gong is different. That man is something else.

I’d known it from the moment he appeared.

That pale old man who looked like Gandalf was a greater master than anyone else here.

Even Baek Yeon.

In a fight between Supreme Peak masters, life and death could be decided in an instant.

The fact that Cang Gong had come within five jang¹ of us without me sensing him meant he’d all but seized the initiative.

Now I see why Ma Sanbao was so confident.

From what I could sense, Cang Gong and So Gyo were evenly matched. If Jeok Cheongang and the other fighters who hadn’t yet reached the Grand Banquet Hall joined the restoration army, they could bring down So Gyo with ease.

Though So Gyo herself had yet to appear.

She’s probably guarding Prince Shangshan somewhere else.

The prince was a crucial key. Neither the restoration army nor the Emperor could afford to let him fall into the enemy’s hands.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one thinking about him.

“Your Majesty. Perhaps the recent storms have made the weather unusually chilly today. Might Your Majesty show some mercy for the sake of those poor officials, who are trembling over there?”

Cang Gong indicated the shivering officials. His manner was respectful and relaxed, but there was a barb in his words. Then he spoke again, as though a thought had just occurred to him.

“By the way, why are Prince Shangshan and the pregnant Consort nowhere to be seen? As members of the imperial family, surely they ought to grace this occasion alongside Your Majesty—”

“Shut your mouth, Wei Zhong.”

Baek Yeon cut him off, his voice hard. He was about to step forward when—

“Enough.”

The Emperor raised a hand to stop him and fixed Wei Zhong with a cold stare.

“You needn’t concern yourself, Cang Gong. Both of them are already on their way.”

“I’m deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s grace. At last, I’ll meet the heir who will one day rule this vast Great Nation.”

“Yes. You will.”

Neither man said anything more.

Nor did either bother to ask the other which heir he truly had in mind, or whom the other considered the heir.

They would wait for the banquet to reach its height. For the fuse to burn all the way down.

And so would I.

“Excuse me. It looks like you two are about done talking. Could I say something, if you don’t mind?”

The Emperor answered.

“What is it?”

“Nothing much. It looks like you’re heading up to the seats of honor, so I was hoping I could move too. Preferably next to Cang Gong.”

“…You want to change seats?”

The officials, who had been frozen in place, all turned to glare at me as though they wanted to tear me apart. While the Emperor searched for words, Cang Gong spoke instead.

“Is there… some particular reason?”

I gave him my most confident, dashing look.

“The seats up there seem to get more side dishes.”

Of course, I didn’t look particularly dashing.