In the novel, there are two things that make up the world's greatest warrior:
Unrivaled swordsmanship and Aura Manipulation.
Swordsmanship can be trained, but Aura Manipulation could only be obtained by those blessed by the Gods. It was so rare that every kingdom sought after it.
The reason why the Archaum Empire was the strongest in the world was because it was home to the two greatest aura manipulators ever born.
One was the Emperor himself, a direct bloodline of God Camalus, the first human who achieved godhood and ascended to the heavens. The other was Duke Dashiell Felicé, guardian of the Northern Territory, the man who produced the empire's greatest warriors. A child gifted from birth.
Silver adjusted her shawl, a nervous tic against her mounting anxiety. It was her first meeting with the Emperor since waking up in this world. A dry tightness constricted her throat. She doubted he would reprimand his daughter—but the chance wasn't zero.
The closer she got to the Emperor's room, the heavier her steps became. Each click of her heels echoed through the corridor. The closer she came, the louder the sound grew. As she was about to reach for the door, her hand unconsciously gripped her dress. She squeezed as hard as she could, until the tips of her fingers turned white.
Her memories of Hiraya and the Emperor were too limited to give her any leverage. This felt like walking straight into death's door. Silver stopped in front of the towering double doors.
Her plan was to hit two birds with one stone. If she could get close to Duke Felicé, not only would he ensure her safety when things went downhill, but she might also meet the healer who could save her life.
Ugh, if only I hadn't skimmed those last chapters! Now, of all times, her lazy reading habits were coming back to bite her. Knowing how the Duke and the healer were connected would have saved her so much trouble. Silver mentally kicked herself. Hard.
Worst mistake. Worst mistake.
Now she had to take the hard way.
The first step of her plan was to get Duke Dashiell Felicé on her side—the savior of the Archaum Empire.
But if what Natasha said was true, then the Duke wouldn't be visiting the capital anytime soon. That meant there would be no chance to engineer a convenient encounter.
She had to take the direct route.
She stood before the Emperor's doors. The deep red wood, lacquered to a mirror sheen, served as a canvas for delicate gold filigree. Scenes of mythical beasts and legendary heroes unfolded across the surface, each figure sculpted with breathtaking precision. It was clear that no expense had been spared, no detail overlooked. This was a testament to the wealth and power flowing through the empire, and the skilled hands that crafted its symbols. A door truly deserving of the world's strongest Emperor.
And right now, that Emperor was her father!
She sucked in a breath. Her chest tightened. Her head spun.
"Fuck… I'm so nervous I'm getting lightheaded," she cursed. Silver took a few deep breaths to calm herself. If she wanted to live, she needed to be brave enough to take this dangerous step forward.
Silver flung open the doors to her father's study. The abrupt action reverberated through the quiet corridor. She was so nervous, her brain stopped working and her body moved on its own.
"Father?!" Her voice came out higher than she intended. She froze just inside the doorway.
The Emperor was in the middle of a discussion. Across from him sat a burly man with tanned, weathered skin. Pale scars marked his bronze complexion—Silver guessed he was a warrior. A rather important one too, if he was having a private meeting with the busiest man in the kingdom. She internally groaned. This was what she got for not making an appointment.
Both men turned, their expressions shifting from concentration to mild surprise. A silent question passed between them, a shared confusion that thickened the air. The room was so quiet, Silver could almost hear imaginary crickets chirping.
She had definitely interrupted something important.
Heat crept up her neck, shame flooding her like a bucket of cold water.
"Never mind! I'll just… come back later!" she stammered in panic. Silver turned to leave, but before she could step out, the Emperor spoke.
"You can stay. We were nearly finished." He snapped shut a thick document.
He gestured to the man, whose face remained expressionless.
"You are dismissed."
The man rose, moving with unexpected grace for his size. Silver shifted awkwardly as he bowed briefly to both of them and left, leaving behind a tense silence. She tried to recall if this man had appeared in the story, but nothing about him felt familiar.
"Ren." The Emperor's voice was clipped and formal. The door opened, and a slender man with blue hair tied neatly in a topknot appeared, dressed in the impeccable uniform of a royal butler.
Ren Bryce, the Emperor's confidant. Once an assassin, the Emperor had been his target. After his utter defeat at Vanhaussen's hands, Ren had chosen to serve him instead. Despite that, he remained one of the smartest and deadliest assassins alive—famous, of course, for his alias: the Shadow of Terror.
It was said that when he moved on a mission, the target would only glimpse a fleeting shadow before their end.
"Have another tea service prepared for the Crown Princess."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Ren bowed swiftly and disappeared. Silver hadn't even noticed him outside the room.
She walked stiffly toward the large mahogany table where the Emperor had been speaking with the man. She sat, back straight, hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes followed as the Emperor locked away the documents. Silence stretched, amplifying her unease.
She was facing the man who had once reduced half the Archaum Empire to ashes in a berserk rage. Yet, to Silver, he looked more like an overworked office worker trying his best to remain diligent.
That's what happened when you refused to take another wife or concubine and had a sickly heir who could collapse at any given moment. The man was shouldering the duties of Emperor, Empress, and Crown Princess all by himself.
Finally, he turned and sat across from her. His movements were quick, refined.
"Father! I want to get married!"