Though Arthur Lyon, founding emperor of Lyon, had lived for over a hundred years, his time on the throne was not especially long.

By the time the Lyon Empire was officially established, he was already in his forties, and several years had passed since he slew the demonic dragon.

According to historical records, those intervening years were spent dealing with the remnants of the dragon race and the Cult of Dragonkind.

After suppressing two large-scale dragon counteroffensives, the dragons finally relented. The entire race withdrew from the continent, departing for distant overseas lands.

The Cult of Dragonkind also collapsed completely. Most of its texts were lost, and its followers rapidly dwindled.

By the time the Lyon Empire was founded, there were no more dragons on the continent, nor any trace of the cult.

Later, nations such as the dwarves' Golden Kingdom, the orcs' Highlands, and the druids' Emerald Dreamwood were established one after another with Lyon's support.

During his reign, Arthur Lyon treated all races well and was more than willing to assist them in building their own nations.

In that era, relations among the intelligent races were remarkably harmonious.

From Heki Stone's research materials, Ambrose even found records of a long-ago drought in Lyon. Druids had rushed in overnight to summon rain, the dwarves had sent gold, and the orcs had delivered food. The disaster was resolved before it could cause significant harm.

But this honeymoon period did not last long. Arthur Lyon ruled for less than thirty years.

He chose to abdicate when he was nearly eighty.

The exact timing was difficult to determine, because the emperor vanished suddenly after leaving a letter behind. Lyon concealed the truth for a time, resulting in inconsistencies in the historical record across the various kingdoms.

According to Lyon's official history, Arthur Lyon did not disappear. Instead, he was suggested to have abdicated to his son and retired behind the scenes.

Only after consulting numerous surviving ancient texts did Heki Stone confirm that there had been turmoil within Lyon at the time. By cross-referencing military records and investigations from other kingdoms, he concluded that Arthur Lyon had, in fact, gone missing.

As for why this sage-king left, even Heki could not say. He combed through countless historical records and found not the slightest clue of what had happened.

It was precisely at this moment that the Lyon Empire began to change.

Heki said to Ambrose, "To be honest, it's hard to say whether the second emperor should be blamed. Arthur Lyon's disappearance had an enormous impact. Every kingdom was deeply concerned about his safety. Lyon tried to conceal the truth, but that only made things worse. Others naturally assumed the worst."

Ambrose nodded. "They would think someone murdered him. Conspiracy theories are part of human nature."

Heki agreed.

"While researching, I noticed that, during that period, the number of envoys sent to Lyon skyrocketed. Their visits became extremely frequent. These were clearly attempts to investigate Arthur Lyon's disappearance. Naturally, Lyon perceived this as interference in its internal affairs. Around the same time, the empire issued many new policies restricting foreigners from entering Lyon.

"Envoys and merchants, officials and commoners alike—everyone was treated like a potential spy. While no major conflicts were recorded, Lyon did experience an economic downturn during this period, largely because foreign merchants withdrew for various reasons."

Ambrose hadn't expected that a single emperor's disappearance could have such far-reaching consequences. What initially seemed unreasonable, upon closer examination, revealed an explanation that was both absurd and entirely logical.

"What happened next?"

Heki gave a faintly mocking smile. "Next? Arthur Lyon returned. Nearly twenty years later, he reappeared, and not long after, he passed away. All the kingdoms sent high-ranking officials to attend his funeral. It should have been a perfect opportunity to restore relations.

"After all, they had only been worried about his safety. Now that it was clear no one had harmed this great hero, clearing the air should have been easy. And yet, something went wrong at the funeral."

Ambrose frowned. "Stop dragging it out, or I'll deduct your time with Arthur Lyon."

Heki snorted. "You're a terrible audience. Fine, I'll keep it simple. An incident occurred at the funeral. Instead of easing tensions, relations between the kingdoms grew even worse.

"As for what exactly happened, no records remain. The only clue comes from an elven fable describing a similar scene: after a king's death, demons gathered around his corpse, each trying to tear off a piece and devour it. The king's wife sacrificed herself to drive them away."

Ambrose eyed Heki. "Don't tell me the queen died at the funeral? And what's with demons fighting over the king's corpse? Were they planning to carve him up and roast him?"

Heki shook his head. "Not according to the records. The queen actually died before Arthur Lyon. She didn't even live a full century, so she couldn't have appeared at his funeral.

"As for the king's corpse, I couldn't find any details. Perhaps the elves know more—you're on good terms with them, aren't you? Their records might be more complete."

Ambrose had indeed invited the former elven king for a visit, though for business rather than pleasure. Still, his curiosity had been piqued. He would have to ask him about the matter when the time came.

"Go on. What happened after that?" Ambrose asked.

"After the funeral, relations between Lyon and the other kingdoms deteriorated further. For a long time, tensions were razor-sharp. War nearly broke out. From that point on, Lyon's attitude toward other races worsened. As the empire grew stronger, one decree after another pushed its policies to extremes. Foreign races were discriminated against, then treated as enemies, and ultimately enslaved.

"Over the past thousand years, Lyon's policies have only grown more radical. Lyon's eleventh emperor established a rule that nearly plunged the continent into chaos: he declared that all humans were citizens of Lyon, and any harm done to humans—anywhere—would not be tolerated. Even incidents in other kingdoms would be pursued relentlessly by Lyon."

Ambrose let out a cold laugh. "I'm aware of that incident, at least. That's when Lyon truly became unreasonable."

Even in the present day, many humans refused to become part of the Lyon Empire. Not everyone could accept its extreme religious and racial doctrines. Those not raised within Lyon's system rarely wished to sacrifice themselves for the empire.

And yet Lyon remained domineering, using all of humanity as a pretext to interfere in other nations.

Heki said, "I don't understand how the Lord of Dawn could bless such a nation."

Ambrose shook his head. "No, you're mistaken. The Lord of Dawn has never blessed any Lyon emperor except Arthur Lyon. Since then, no member of the royal family has ever received divine favor."

This was something he had learned in conversation with Black Rose: throughout Lyon's history, no emperor had received a divine blessing, not even a revelation.

Of course, the royal family had concealed this well. Outsiders had no way of verifying such matters.

After all, who could prove—or disprove—the existence of a divine blessing or revelation?

Heki countered, "Even so, Lyon has so many paladins. Who would believe they haven't received the Lord of Dawn's favor?"

Ambrose didn't argue. The debate had raged across the continent for centuries.

When a god blessed an individual, did that imply favor toward that individual's nation?

There was yet no consensus to this question.

Some argued that Lyon's blessings proved the Lord of Dawn loved the empire itself. After all, those blessed almost always rose to positions of power. Surely the god understood the power of His blessing.

Others insisted the opposite: that the god favored individuals alone, with no regard for the nation they belonged to. Any broader meaning was merely human projection.

No one could question a god directly, so the debate remained unresolved.

Ambrose took neither side. He disliked baseless speculation, especially about gods. There were many deities, each with their own temperament. Some favored individuals; others might favor entire groups.

Why argue as if there were a single standard?

Still, where the Lord of Dawn was concerned, Ambrose subscribed toward the latter view. The god favored those who truly practiced his teachings, not the Lyon Empire itself. It was simply that Lyon had spent generations promoting ideals of truth, goodness, and beauty, producing countless young believers in His faith.

Take Allen, for example. Ambrose had found no moral flaws in him. Aside from being somewhat weak and not especially bright, he was nearly perfect.

The elite might use doctrine to manipulate others, but the young genuinely believed in the faith and acted accordingly. Even if they were misled, such sincerity would not go unrewarded by the Lord of Dawn.

This was only Ambrose's conjecture, of course, but so far, he had noticed no contradictions with the evidence.

If this were the case, then the Lyon Empire might not be so terrifying after all.

Even the mightiest empire could not be saved once it began to collapse from within.

If these suspicions were correct, Lyon was surely suffering from a severe internal crisis. Surely some had begun to notice.

"Who would be the first to realize these problems in the whole of Lyon?" Ambrose pondered.

A stern, unsmiling old face surfaced in his mind.