"People will begin to harbor wicked thoughts."
I answered immediately.
I didn't even need to think about it.
It was as natural as the sun rising in the east.
Seeing my prompt reply, Father nodded in satisfaction.
"Indeed. The moment power shifts, in any era and in any realm, upheaval invariably follows."
"...If I may speak without fear of overstepping."
I paused for a moment, drew a breath, and looked straight at Father.
"Once Your Majesty passes away, an unprecedented level of upheaval is to be expected."
"Which is precisely why I abdicated early."
"Even so, the risk will not be reduced to zero."
"That is why I have made maximum use of my failing health."
"...To smoke out the insubordinates."
"Precisely."
Father gave a slight nod.
With a solemn expression, he turned his gaze away from me and looked out the window.
"I am carrying out my final great task—the culmination of my life. It is the most difficult work of my existence, where a single failure leaves no time to start over."
"...I can only imagine your burden."
I bowed my head slightly.
Failures happen from time to time in life.
When one is young, a mistake can simply be remedied—or rather, one still has the time left to fix it. But at Father's age, no such time remains.
It was the final touch, where not a single error would be permitted.
"If I may be so bold..."
"Hmm?"
Father looked back at me.
"Your Majesty currently seems like an artist putting the finishing touches on their crowning masterpiece—that is how it feels to me."
"A clever analogy... and entirely accurate."
Father chuckled at my comparison.
Even for someone of Father's stature, it was easy to imagine how his nerves must be stretched taut in a situation like this.
I hoped to ease that tension even a little.
"...So that is why you continue to reside here."
"...Oh?"
"You abdicated the imperial throne to me. You transferred both the power and the duties. Yet the symbol alone—this palace—you did not hand over. I finally understand the meaning behind that now."
"...You truly are remarkable, Noah."
Father looked slightly surprised before a gentle smile surfaced on his face.
"Leaping from a second-story window might break a bone, but descending the stairs one step at a time is of no consequence."
"Releasing the turmoil in small increments—"
Saying that, I dropped to one knee.
I knelt and bowed my head.
It was the manifestation of pure, natural emotion—an involuntary movement of my body.
"To use even your own life and death as playing cards... I am lost for words."
"That is—"
"Eh?"
I raised my head.
Father started to say something, but swallowed his words.
Instead, he spoke as if to change the subject.
"I was blessed with children."
"Your Majesty..."
"Do you remember Albert?"
"...Yes."
I replied briefly. I gave only an acknowledgment, offering no unnecessary words.
Albert, Father's second son—my older brother—and the man who was once Crown Prince.
Due to various circumstances, the moment Albert caught wind that he was to be disinherited, he attempted a coup d'état, and as a result, he lost his life.
"What Albert did is unforgivable, but in its own way, it was proof of his competence. The intelligence network to act the moment I decided on his disinheritance, and the decisiveness to use force. A mere incompetent could never have achieved that."
"...Indeed."
"Even setting Albert aside, there are Henry, Oscar, and somewhat removed, Dustin. I was too blessed with children."
I remained silent.
This was a sensitive topic where even offering brief nods of agreement felt improper.
As an Emperor, being blessed with capable children was a joy, but having too many sowed the seeds of succession disputes, meaning one could not rejoice unreservedly.
Father was troubled by that very dilemma, and since I was an involved party, it was difficult to chime in.
"Save for one, if only all of them had been like Dustin, I would have nothing more to ask for."
"As a human being, he might be the wisest among the brothers."
"Indeed."
Father nodded, his face turning slightly serious.
"Let us return to the topic. I staged my critical condition and observed the situation for a bit."
"Yes."
He was referring to Oscar.
I grasped that intuitively.
"Noah, from now on, carry yourself with a bit more arrogance."
"Arrogance?"
"You could rephrase it as acting more like an Emperor."
"Like an Emperor..."
"The stronger you are as an Emperor, the less anyone can defy you. Defying such a sovereign would be a direct denial of their own pride."
"...Understood."
It had been a blind spot, I realized.
Father had completely avoided using proper nouns, speaking entirely in roundabout terms, but this was entirely about Oscar.
I had poured my heart and soul into winning Oscar over.
Most of that had been through conciliation.
Appointing Oscar as Prince Regent for this personal campaign was for that very reason.
In that sense, I had become a "weak Emperor" toward Oscar.
Yet Father was saying that was not the way.
Oscar respected the "authority of the Emperor."
In other words, if I was a "strong Emperor," defying me would deny his very way of life, making it impossible for him to rebel.
The scales completely fell from my eyes.
"Of course, there is always the chance he casts everything aside and acts anyway. But given his character, he likely will not go that far."
"I understand. I shall do so."
"Good."
Father nodded with a satisfied expression.
On this matter, I felt I could trust him unconditionally.
Preventing Oscar from rebelling—or at worst, stopping it before it occurs just like with Albert—was the matter of utmost importance for Father in his final preparations.
Believing it to be trustworthy advice, I resolved to follow his words.
"Let us change the subject. To what happens after I am gone."
"Yes."
"Noah, what do you intend to accomplish as Emperor moving forward? What kind of grand design do you envision?"
"...I am thinking of breaking through our population stagnation."
"Hmph."
Father nodded firmly.
Needless to say, population was the very essence of national power.
Over the past few decades, the Empire's population had plateaued, entering a period of stagnation.
If we aimed for further prosperity, population growth was of utmost importance—no, it was a prerequisite.
"How do you plan to increase it?"
"The upper limit of a population is linked to the technological prowess of the era and the food and wealth obtained through that technology—collectively, the 'resource cap.'"
"Indeed."
"Your Majesty addressed that by expanding our territory. If territory expands, it stands to reason that the cap on resources obtainable with the same technology increases."
"That is true."
"As a result of your territorial expansions, the realm grew, but the pensions paid to war widows ballooned. The wealth accumulated by those war widows is not being spent, resulting in a 'stagnation of resources.'"
"Remarkable, Noah. You understand that deeply?"
"I learned it from history."
I answered immediately.
"The Iponia Empire, was it?"
"Yes. That nation where medical technology developed anomalously, extending the average life expectancy to the eighties. Those who held the resources grew old but did not die; because they were old, they lacked vitality and held onto their resources without spending them. As a result, wealth did not circulate to the youth, plunging them into a dark age of stagnation that lasted a full generation—some thirty to forty years."
"Keeping that in mind, what will you do?"
"Many of the war widows have grandchildren. At that age, doting on their grandchildren becomes the sole purpose in life for many."
"You intend to use the grandchildren as leverage?"
"Yes. I will iron out the specific methods from here, but I wish to establish a system where 'the more money one spends on their grandchildren, the more they gain.'"
"For example?"
"For example... if they spend one rien on a grandchild, the national treasury provides a subsidy of another rien, or something of that nature. The numbers are merely illustrative, but if doting on their grandchildren also brings financial benefit, they will surely loosen their purse strings and pour out their assets—their resources."
"Remarkable, Noah. You make clever use of an elder's fondness for their grandchildren."
Father spoke with delight.
The decisive factor in Father abdicating the throne to me was the presence of a "good grandchild," Shem.
I had known he would understand a discussion about doting on grandchildren.