People fear the night because of its darkness.
Throughout their brief lives, whenever they lifted their heads to gaze at the night sky, the shadows stretching in all directions evoked a primal fear.
Perhaps sleepiness itself was a learned response—a helplessness ingrained by the knowledge that one could not fend off predators in the dark.
In his younger years, when his mind was cluttered with restless thoughts, Adrianos would reach not for books and ink, but for a drink.
But tonight, the night sky looked different.
The Milky Way flowed like a great river, stars scattered densely across the heavens, and the moon stood at the center, casting a quiet, gentle glow over the world.
Had there always been so much he had failed to see?
The night he had thought to be nothing but darkness was, in fact, filled with countless lights—lights that no shadow, no matter how deep, could entirely conceal.
To say he simply hadn’t noticed them before would be an understatement.
They had always been there.
And so, Adrianos slowly nodded, unable to deny the truth any longer.
He had been so caught up in excuses—so consumed by the belief that failure was inevitable—that he had failed to see what was truly important.
Even as ruin loomed ever closer, there were still those who refused to abandon hope, those who held on to the possibility of salvation.
Those who had waited, yearning for someone to rise again.
Their light, though faint, was steadfast enough to illuminate even the night sky.
And yet, time and time again, those who had suffered countless defeats lost faith in their own light.
That was why this was the darkest of times.
A nation that had lost trust in itself after centuries of decline.
Disasters that struck in succession, as if to signal divine abandonment.
As if that were not enough, civil wars raged endlessly, each faction turning its blade against the other for the sake of a throne atop barren land.
It was no wonder people could no longer believe.
For centuries, the empire had been crumbling, and in that time, it had failed to protect those it should have.
The will to preserve it had shattered, worn down by repeated invasions and internal fights.
The empire was sinking.
Until the prince appeared.
While everyone else claimed this was divine judgment, he alone called it a trial.
A burden heavier than anything else—the duty to preserve an empire—had been placed upon his young shoulders.
The final light, left to burn by the heavens themselves.
A solitary beacon in the darkness, standing alone in the darkest hour.
Even if one could not see it with their own eyes, such a brilliant radiance could never truly be hidden.
That was why, before the sound of approaching footsteps even reached him, Adrianos already knew who it was.
“I’m relieved to see that you seem well, Your Highness.”
“Adrianos…”
The same frozen expression as always.
The prince had always carried himself as if he felt nothing at all.
But Adrianos, who had devoted himself to his liege for so long, held a quiet certainty.
Right now, those unshakable eyes must be trembling, if only slightly.
And as he turned, there it was—
The steadfast prince, wavering for the first time.
Perhaps unwilling to reveal even that moment of weakness, the prince slowly closed his eyes.
“I’ve done nothing but demand sacrifice. Last time, this time… and the next time, too, I suppose.”
It wasn’t just this war.
How many had died by his unspoken orders?
How many had been sacrificed, despite their innocence, under the banner of preserving the empire?
Yet at the same time, he had longed for a world where people would break free from the empire’s grasp and embrace the prosperity of the changing era.
“When will this end?
Even I am beginning to waver, and now, you too are leaving me.”
“My sacrifice was inevitable the moment I swore my loyalty to Your Highness.”
“Even so, I refuse to become the kind of fool who accepts sacrifice as a matter of course.”
He had wrestled with this countless times.
To speak or to remain silent.
But if he could not even be honest with someone willing to die for him, then who could he ever confide in?
The prince opened his eyes, taking in Adrianos’ determined figure.
The kind of unwavering resolve found only in those who had made peace with death.
Then, as if offering a response to such conviction, the prince made his decision.
“Adrianos, as a response to your devotion, I will now reveal to you what I have kept silent until now.”
That single sentence was the beginning.
The prince, who had never confided in anyone, no matter how close, began to speak—one truth after another.
Why he had refused to let Thomas of Epirus join the battle.
Why he had not forced a decisive confrontation against Murad.
Why he had stalled for time, and for what purpose.
Everything.
Not a single detail was withheld.
Hearing the full extent of these plans, Adrianos could not hide the tremors that overtook his body.
Tears welled in his eyes as the certainty he had clung to was finally proven right.
Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder—why had the prince chosen to reveal all this to him now, when no one else had known?
“Your Highness, why are you telling me this?
If it is so important, should you not guard it even more closely?”
“Haven’t I already told you?
This is my answer to the devotion you have shown me.”
At Adrianos’ question, the prince clenched his jaw.
If only he had wielded more power, perhaps such bitter sacrifices would not have been necessary.
If only he had uncovered the truth sooner, perhaps so many lives would not have been lost.
He loathed his own helplessness.
And yet, for someone like him, this was the only form of compensation he could offer Adrianos.
“I have driven you into the jaws of death because of my own powerlessness.
But I will not let you die in despair, in resignation, or in fear.”
“Your Highness…”
“For now, take this.
It is all I have to give you.”
Adrianos opened his mouth to speak but soon fell silent.
The warmth trailing down his cheeks—whose tears were they?
Instead of saying what he had intended, he spoke different words.
“In that case, Your Highness, I ask you to grant me one final request.”
“Anything.”
“May I call you Your Majesty?”
A reverent silence followed.
And then—
“…I am still but a prince, not yet crowned. But I swear this—one day, I will become emperor, for you and for those who follow us.”
“That was all I wished to hear.”
There were no soldiers to cheer—only the rustling of leaves, stirred by the wind.
The heavens, adorned with countless stained-glass stars, and the silver flames of the sacred torches offered their silent blessing.
Like blessed oil, more radiant than any luxurious coronation, light spilled over the prince’s head.
The humblest coronation in history.
And yet, the most sacred.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Adrianos called out to his emperor.
“Your Majesty.”
TL : Hey everyone, thank you for reading this far. I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey so far. We have completed 25 percent of the story with 100 chapters, meaning there are still 300 more chapters to come. I will be taking a break from this novel for a week. In the meantime, I hope you review this novel on Novel Updates.
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