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Chapter 11: Fear Does Not Forget.



As Aric stepped through the grand hall, the room plunged into a momentary stunned silence, only for a flurry of whispers to erupt a moment later.

"Isn’t that the forgotten prince?"

"Isn’t he bedridden?"

"Careful with your words; I heard he killed men for speaking ill just earlier today."

Nobles and guests exchanged gossip about the fourth prince, speculations flew, and curious glances were thrown in his direction, but Aric remained as composed as could be, his expression unreadable.

He walked to the emperor’s table, currently escorted by one of the imperial guards.

The seating arrangement was symbolic, trailing down from the emperor through the ranks of power. However, as Aric approached, it was clear there was no seat for him among the princes.

Aric reached the table, standing a bit away from the emperor and the other princes.

"Brothers," he greeted with a nod before turning to the emperor.

"Father," he greeted with a slight bow.

They all responded to his greeting with bodily acknowledgments before the second prince spoke.

"Younger Brother, it seems your arrival was not anticipated, so they had not placed an extra seat among us. I’ll have th—"

"No, no," Aric shook his hand. "There is no need for that. I’ll just sit anywhere, it doesn’t matter," Aric said, his tone composed as he walked along the table and found a seat in the far middle.

His actions subtly undermined the situation, showing he was unfazed by the oversight.

Emperor Xavier Valerian was known for being a rather quiet individual, but his aura spoke of unparalleled authority. It is said that martial artists with the ability to feel ki are almost unable to breathe in his presence.

He had hair of pure white. It was clear he was quite aged, but he didn’t look it; he seemed full of vitality.

His head leaned on his arm, and his previously bored expression seemed to shift to amusement upon Aric’s arrival.

"Say, Aric, why did you finally decide to grace us with your presence this year?" the emperor asked, his voice as imposing as he looked, and the entire table went silent awaiting Aric’s answer.

"I heard the wine was worth the attendance," Aric replied, a hint of dry humor in his tone as he took a filled glass next to him, taking a sip.

"I guess I wasn’t lied to," he added after tasting.

The table was quiet for a moment before the emperor burst into loud laughter, followed by small laughs from some sycophantic nobles.

"If that’s not a good reason, I don’t know what is," the emperor laughed as he stood.

Immediately he did, he commanded the attention of the entire hall and began his welcoming speech.

"I don’t believe there will be any more surprise arrivals, so I might as well address you all now," Xavier jested, acknowledging Aric’s late attendance.

"You are all welcome, and although I host this every year, we must remember this is not about me, but instead about the young prides of the empire. Today, we appreciate the Valerian Mage Academy and its students.

For many years, graduates of this academy have become a core structure of our empire, being the most honored of the imperial army and squad, and today we gather here to celebrate the future generation of these young prodigies."

The emperor raised his glass, proposing a toast.

"To the future of the empire."

Everyone raised their glasses in response, making the toast.

The banquet continued, although the atmosphere remained subtly charged with curiosity and unease. Whispers and discussions of the fourth prince and his actions dominated most tables.

At the emperor’s table, however, more mature conversations were held, and from light-hearted banter, the discussions soon took a political turn.

Aric remained largely detached from the conversations, as everyone present had expected. He had been completely absent from all political affairs of the empire, so his limited knowledge was to be expected.

The fourth prince played into their assumptions, only observing the dynamics of the court rather than participating in the conversation.

He simply sipped his wine and listened, his mind analyzing the power plays and alliances being subtly negotiated around him.

Soon, the sour topic of the rumored rebellion of the Byzeth Kingdom was brought to the table.

"The Byzeth situation is actually quite unfortunate. The king broke through the martial master realm and suddenly believes he can defy the authority of the empire without any consequences. Foolish, but handling such matters requires a level of finesse, no?"

Lord Hozai spoke, a wealthy sycophant of the third prince.

"Finesse? Well, that’s one way, or we could make a brutal example of them," the second prince, Sylas Valerian, spoke.

"But surely, your highness, the people of Byzeth are simply misguided. Perhaps a lighter hand could bring them back to the fold? A bit of gold here, a promise of autonomy there… sometimes diplomacy can achieve what swords are incapable of."

Lord Hozai explained, proud of his thinking, but before the second prince could respond, the Lord turned to the fourth.

"What do you think, Prince Aric?"

Aric had expected it, especially from a member of Darius’s entourage—an attempt to embarrass him by exploiting his lack of knowledge in strategic politics.

All eyes turned to the fourth prince, most eager to get a laugh as he crashed and burned, while others, like the emperor and his second brother, were intrigued to hear his response.

"You must believe money solves every problem," Aric responded coolly, not sparing the lord a glance as he gazed at his wine glass.

"Indeed I do," Hozai swiftly retorted. "I pay my guards well, and as a result, none can humiliate me in public,"

His words were a blatant jab at the prince regarding the actions of his estate guards.

Aric smiled, a cold, unreadable tug on his lips.

"Let’s say we follow your method: a few bribes, some concessions… and suddenly the emperor’s power is up for auction. Now, any kingdom looking for wealth simply revolts, and we continue to pay to keep our authority… Clearly, that’s unsustainable," Aric responded, seemingly ignoring the lord’s provocation.

"So what do you suggest?" the lord questioned, already uneasy by Aric’s calm and composed articulation. His idea had been exposed as flawed by the prince so easily.

"Burn their fields, raze their city, hang their leaders… let people see what defiance brings."

Aric’s words hung coldly in the air. No one had expected such brutal thinking from the third prince, and it became quite clear that the events earlier that day were most certainly not a rumor.

"And the people?" Darius asked, the third prince putting on his facade. "You would advise we slaughter women and children?"

"Survivors will live their lives with a lesson. Fear breeds loyalty far more effectively than gold or promises. For example, the lord bragged about his well-compensated guards, but they are loyal to his coin, not to him. What happens when they are offered more money? Authority built on monetary compensation is certain to crumble eventually.

However, I’m certain my guards will find it hard to defy me again when the head of their companion decorates my table… Don’t you think so, Lord Hozai?" Aric’s eyes narrowed, and his voice turned cold as he addressed the wealthy lord.

The lord clenched his fist under the table.

"Such harsh methods, your highness. Perhaps some would say it’s unnecessary cruelty," Hozai spoke through slightly clenched teeth.

"Cruelty? Perhaps. But sometimes cruelty is the most effective form of mercy." Aric shrugged slightly.

"Mercy towards the rest of the empire. When one kingdom rebels, others will follow if not deterred. By ending this quickly and decisively, we prevent greater bloodshed in the future."

Aric shifted his chair back as he spoke, standing.

"Terror is a powerful tool, your lordship," Aric gazed straight into Hozai’s eyes. "And unlike your loyalty bought with gold, fear does not forget."

Aric picked up a filled glass from the table.

"Now, do excuse me, as I go take some air on the balcony," he said, walking away and leaving the entire table in stunned silence.


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