The next day, I headed to the government office of Reararat alone.
A government office was a town's official administrative building, typically housing whatever ruling lord or magistrate governed the territory.
Standing on the main thoroughfare, I looked up at the structure.
At most, it was three stories tall, but built in an unfamiliar architectural style.
"...A royal palace, huh?"
The thought crossed my mind unbidden.
Though the style was entirely new to me, the exterior ornamentation, the design of the gates, and its elevated position overlooking the town all met the criteria of a royal palace.
"You certainly seem to have enjoyed yourself out here."
I let out a dry chuckle.
It was hardly rare for magistrates and governors-general stationed in frontier territories to wield power like petty kings.
Holding the exact same post, a man would merely be a mid-level bureaucrat in the capital, yet in the boondocks, he became a grand dignitary from the imperial court.
Consequently, one often heard of officials who preferred to remain low-ranking functionaries in the provinces forever rather than climb the ranks into the heart of the Empire.
Some even went so far as to bribe the inspectors auditing their administration just to stay in office.
In that sense, Saralria—a barren, remote frontier—must have been the perfect breeding ground for such schemes. One look at the palace-like building before me told the whole story.
Well, none of that mattered right now.
I set off again, approaching the guards stationed at the main gate.
Guards of this sort generally operated in pairs, flanking either side of a double door.
This place was no exception, watched over by a pair consisting of an older man and a youth.
Seeing me approach, the younger guard leveled his spear—another classic staple—and pointed the tip straight at me.
"Halt! Who goes there?"
"I am this."
I had no time to waste bantering with gatekeepers.
Unleashing Leviathan's power, I manifested my crest across my back.
It was an emblem in the shape of a ship—my imperial crest.
A technique I had devised back when she went by the name Leviathan.
Along with the crest, I unleashed an intimidating aura saturated with the crushing pressure of Leviathan, my most loyal hound.
Ah—!
Both guards dropped their spears in unison and dropped to their knees on the spot.
Several passersby who happened to be walking down the street collapsed to their knees as well.
With this overwhelming pressure, I forced them to recognize that I was the Emperor.
"I am going inside. Who is in charge here?"
"Y-Yes, Sire! The Governor-General is in his office!"
"Understood."
Nodding, I left the two guards kneeling in the dust and walked into the government office.
I crossed paths with various officials inside, but with Leviathan's aura still active, every single person dropped to their knees the moment they laid eyes on me.
After asking one of the kneeling subordinates for directions to the Governor-General's office, I made my way up to the top floor of the building.
Without bothering to knock, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Within an office furnished with opulence rivaling my own imperial chambers, a lone man sat with his feet propped on his desk, tipping back a goblet.
"Who's there? Can't you at least knock?"
"Will this suffice?"
I gave an afterthought of a tap on the wide-open door.
The man turned toward me with an irritated scowl—and instantly froze.
"Y-Your Majesty?!"
In his shock, he tumbled clean out of his chair.
The goblet shattered against the floor, splashing amber liquid all over him.
Practically crawling across the floor, the man scrambled to my feet and pressed his forehead repeatedly against the floorboards on all fours.
"F-Forgive my profound disrespect! I had no idea Your Majesty was gracing us with your presence—"
"Enough....You recognize my face, do you?"
As I spoke, I withdrew Leviathan's crest.
There was a subtle difference between someone who only bowed because the crest revealed my identity, and someone who had recognized me on sight from the start.
The reaction of the man before me, the Governor-General of Saralria, belonged firmly to the latter.
"Yes! I once had the honor of catching a glimpse of your face at the imperial prince's residence in the capital."
"Oh? What is your name?"
"I-I am Yellow Cake."
"Cake? Are you related to Rice?"
"Yes, Sire. Rice is my foolish younger brother."
"I see. That makes you Henry's retainer, then."
"No, I am in the service of the Eighth Prince."
"...Oh?"
Fascinating.
Rice Cake.
He was a retainer serving Fourth Prince Henry.
A man I had met when I was twelve, during my time stationed at the Ministry of Military Affairs under Henry. He was a forceful commander who, while stern with his soldiers, skillfully rallied them to achieve impressive feats of valor.
By accumulating military achievements in this warrior empire, he was the kind of man who might well become Prime Minister a decade from now.
Since this man was Rice's older brother, I had assumed he would also serve Henry, yet he claimed allegiance to Oscar.
"It is unusual for brothers to serve different imperial princes. Is there a reason for this?"
"T-That is..."
Yellow awkwardly averted his gaze.
He looked away, anxiously stealing glances to read my expression.
Was it the sort of matter that would be uncomfortable to discuss in front of me?
...Ah.
"I see. So that's how it is."
"Pardon?"
"I presume the brothers split their loyalties between different princes so that no matter who took the throne, the Cake family would be preserved."
"T-That is..."
"Hahaha, it is fine. No one could have predicted that I, the Thirteenth Imperial Prince, would ascend the throne. It is entirely understandable that your clan sent no one to my side."
"I-I am deeply humbled..."
"Heh."
Faintly smiling, I took the seat at the desk Yellow had occupied just moments ago.
Then, looking across the table at him:
"Stand. We have matters to discuss."
"A-As you command."
Yellow rose to his feet as ordered.
"There are several things to handle. First, are there any death row convicts in Reararat?"
"Death row convicts... Your Majesty?"
"Yes. Convicts awaiting execution whose cases were not handled via summary judgment."
I questioned Yellow closely.
Last night, I had thought to use a condemned criminal whose entire clan was sentenced to extermination under collective guilt for treason, but on second thought, such sentences were almost always carried out immediately. There was not a single one awaiting execution even in the capital right now.
Left with no choice, I had changed my approach to procuring a convict locally, which led me here.
"There are a few, Sire..."
"I see. Are there any among them who were falsely accused or serving as paid stand-ins?"
"Pardon?"
"I am the Minister of Justice; I know full well how these schemes work. Are there any who took the fall for coin?"
"T-That is... T-There shouldn't be—no, there are none! By tomorrow—"
Yellow started to stammer out an explanation, only to catch himself and snap his mouth shut.
"Calm down. I did not come here to hold you accountable for your crimes."
"What?"
"Do you think I, the Emperor, would travel all the way out here over something so trivial?"
"Ah..."
Realizing my point, his expression relaxed into palpable relief.
To begin with, wealthy culprits hiring stand-ins to confess or face execution in their stead was something that would never truly disappear.
As long as one possessed sufficient wealth and power, such abuses inevitably occurred.
Historical records from five hundred years ago already detailed masters committing crimes and paying stand-ins to take the blame in exchange for promises of financial support after their sentences were served.
It was an undeniable reality, and it would never be entirely stamped out.
I had no intention of wasting time fighting something impossible to eradicate.
"I am merely asking if there are any wrongful convictions or stand-ins among the condemned."
"...A few."
"Not all of them, though?"
"No, Sire."
"Then I shall make use of a legitimate death row convict."
"A-As you command. And... how do you intend to... use them?"
"Mm."
Nodding, I prepared to explain only the practical necessities regarding the dragon vein's revitalization to Yellow.
Just as I organized my thoughts and opened my mouth to speak—
"Governor-General! Disaster, it's an absolute disaster!!"
A middle-aged man burst into the room with enough momentum to take the door off its hinges.
Yellow glared at the intruder with raw fury.
"Insolent fool! I care not what has happened, get out! I will hear it later!"
"This is no time for that! A limited express dispatch has arrived from the capital!"
"What?!"
Hmm?
Yellow took the document from the messenger.
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the man from the room.
Once we were alone again, Yellow turned to me cautiously.
"May I, Your Majesty?"
"Go ahead. It is marked limited express. Pay me no mind and check the contents."
"Understood!"
Yellow bowed respectfully before breaking the seal on the express dispatch.
The moment his eyes scanned the page—
"T-This is..."
"What does it say?"
Yellow looked up, staring at me in shock.
"It states that this is a matter of extreme urgency, and we are to locate Your Majesty during your stay in Saralria to deliver the enclosed letter."
With trembling hands, he produced a smaller envelope that had been tucked inside the dispatch.
"Let me see it."
"At once."
Yellow presented the envelope with both hands.
I took it, broke the seal, and read the contents.
My eyes widened.
It was a letter from Henry.
The message was stark and brief.
Rebellion erupted; imperial army routed.
Only that single sentence was written on the page.
With a loud clatter, my chair scraped back as I shot to my feet.
"Y-Your Majesty?"
"...It is nothing."
Taking a slow, deep breath, I sat back down.
Calm down, I told myself.
A grave matter. Undeniably a grave matter.
However—it was not an immediate emergency.
From the rebellion's location to the imperial capital.
And from the capital all the way out here to Reararat.
Even with limited express couriers pushing at full speed for both legs, the message would take roughly seven days to arrive.
In other words, the rout itself had occurred a full week ago.
It was serious, yes... but panicking now would accomplish nothing.
I took another deep breath, commanding myself to regain my composure as Emperor.
Then, I calculated my next moves.
What needed to be done right now, and what needed to be done moving forward.
"Yellow."
"Yes, Sire!"
"Prepare horses for a super express, stationed at every relay along the route."
"As you command!"
"I shall issue several imperial decrees. Fetch paper and pen."
"Understood!!"
"Furthermore, I will be leaving people behind here. Treat them as my representatives—my imperial envoys."
"As you com—pardon?"
A super express—a tier beyond even a limited express.
Having risen to the rank of Governor-General, Yellow grasped the sheer urgency of the situation even without knowing the details.
He had been acknowledging my orders in rapid succession, tracing lines into his palm as if carving them into memory, but my final command stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Leaving people behind...? Where is Your Majesty headed?"
"I am taking that super express back to the imperial capital myself."
"That is madness!!"
Yellow cried out in sheer horror.
And for good reason.
A super express courier was an extreme ride where the survival of neither horse nor rider was ever guaranteed.