The Sword Emperor Transmigrates-Chapter 225

The vastness and power of the Arcadian Empire were known across the world, but the way it was governed and operated as a nation was anything but ordinary. Despite occupying more than half of the continent, the Empire had never made any efforts to expand further, leaving its neighboring countries untouched for centuries. This, in itself, was strange.

There were times when other nations, mistakenly assuming that the Arcadian Empire was in decline, provoked the empire, only to bring a devastating storm upon themselves.

The Arcadian Empire didn’t even need to send the Cardenas family into action; its border troops alone could handle all neighboring nations. And when taking into consideration the Arcane Society, which held influence surpassing even the Mage Towers, as well as Jehoia, armed with technology far ahead of its time, challenging the Arcadian Empire’s might was sheer folly.

Some couldn’t help speculating about the Empire.

“The Arcadian Empire doesn’t conquer the world because internal power struggles are even more intense than the wars of conquest. While they have no external enemies, things must be different within.”

This claim, though baseless, sounded plausible enough to those outside the empire. No country could stand against the Seven Great Orders of the Cardenas family, and none could match the Arcane Society led by the Wickeline family. As for the Jehoia family, little was known about them to even consider a comparison.

“Suppose the Cardenas and the Wickeline families were at odds. Or what if Wickeline and Jehoia were in conflict?”

The thought that the Three Noble Houses, known as the pillars of the Empire, were at odds with one another, was a comforting thought for outsiders. It seemed plausible to them that the three forces were maintaining a balance of power, preventing one another from exerting their influence on the outside world.

In the end, the Arcadian Imperial Family was nothing more than a scarecrow, a great power that was unable to fully exert itself due to the struggles and confrontations of its vassals. Of course, this speculation was far from the truth; it just better suited the feelings of those who wanted to condescend and undermine the Arcadian Empire.

Instead of accepting the reality of living next to a nation that could crush them at any moment, people chose to believe this narrative, finding comfort in it.

Of course, the nobles of the Arcadian Empire couldn’t help but scoff at such ridiculous rumors. No one understood Arcadia’s inner workings better than they did, aside from the Three Noble Houses and the royal household. Although the Empire seemed to use the feudal system, with nobles managing vast lands and people just like the other kingdoms, the reality was completely different.

Over two hundred years ago, Marquis Archibald, hailed as a brilliant statesman, had sarcastically summarized how the Empire really worked.

“Think of the Arcadian Empire as a grand mansion. The royal family is the roof, the Cardenas family is the walls, the Wickeline family is the pillars, and the Jehoia family is the foundation. Even if we count all the other nobles together, they don’t even amount to one tile on the floor.”

In truth, the Arcadian nobility were not much more than high-ranking bureaucrats, sharing little in common with the lords and noble families of other kingdoms. Corruption was swiftly punished, sometimes with entire families being executed overnight. Military and commercial powers were tightly controlled by the central government, making any attempt at territorial war unthinkable. The nobles were little more than replaceable cogs in a machine.

The royal family’s authority was absolute, and the Three Noble Houses served as its limbs.

“Internal strife between the Three Noble Houses or a rift within the royal family? That’s less likely than a natural disaster. We can never hope to understand how their relationships work, nor should we try to.” ”

This was the final taboo among Arcadian nobles. Anyone who dared to be too curious or investigate such matters simply vanished without a trace. As a result, the great Empire remained as peaceful as ever.

* * *

The capital of the Arcadian Empire was known as Eterna. As the city where the Emperor resided, it was the most prosperous and well-defended city in the entire Empire. Without the proper identification, one couldn’t even pass through its gates, and causing trouble within the city could lead to execution, even for a ruler of a foreign nation.

In the heart of Eterna, more commonly referred to as the Imperial Capital, a conference was being held between individuals who could sway the entire world.

The heads of the Three Noble Houses had gathered.

“It’s been a while, Simon.”

Declan, the Cardenas’ Archduke of Sword, smirked as he looked across the table at the man seated opposite him.

The man wore a rounded hat and a flamboyant mask that covered his face. Anyone looking at him would immediately find him suspicious. The swirling magical energy around him indicated that he had reached the peak of Class 9.

He was more commonly known as the Society President than the family head. Simon Magus, the incarnation of sorcery whose name and title had been passed down through the ages, was not only the head of the Wickeline family but also the head of the Arcane Society.

“...It’s been twenty years since we last met face-to-face, Declan. About the same for you too, Arktur.”

Simon’s monotone greeting was followed by a glance toward the highest chair in the room, reserved for the head of the Jehoia family.

Sitting there was Arktur, the Grand Elder of the Jehoia family, who let out a hearty laugh. “The butcher and even the spellcaster! Today is a day for reuniting with old friends!”

Arktur, known for being rather boisterous, was particularly excited that day, and not just because of the two people before him. Jehoia’s masterpiece, the Barricade Train, had finally completed its mission. News had arrived that Yggdrasil had been toppled and the frontier was completely restored. For an artisan like Arktur, no news could be more thrilling than hearing of his creation’s success in battle.

“I suppose I should offer both congratulations and condolences to you, Declan.”

Arktur, still chuckling, turned to Declan with an embarrassed smile. Most of the expedition’s members had been knights of Cardenas, and even the Green Dragon Commander Uluka had fallen. Despite the victory, the loss of such an important figure made it difficult for the head of the Cardenas family to celebrate properly.

Declan gave a faint, bitter smile and waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll just accept the congratulations. Uluka fulfilled his desire and passed on, as did the others. It might’ve been a different story if we’d lost, but they returned victorious. I won’t be showing a long face for that.”

The Barricade Train operators and many of the Titan pilots had also perished, only a few returning. Simon sighed deeply and bowed his head, knowing the Wickeline were the only ones who hadn’t participated in the battle.

Despite not contributing to the fight, the spoils of victory—Yggdrasil’s spiritual veins—had been secured, making Simon feel somewhat guilty.

Still, the bonds between the Three Noble Houses of the Arcadian Empire were strong and unwavering. After a moment of silence to mourn the fallen members of the expedition, the family heads moved on to the first matter on their agenda.

“Though Yggdrasil has vanished, it seems the spiritual veins and the forest have been preserved, remaining much like they would have been in ancient times. Given what the Spirit Kings have communicated, we plan to entrust management to the Wickeline family. Arktur, what do you think?”

The Grand Elder Arktur stroked his mustache and boomed, “I don’t mind! But I heard there’s no mineral veins there. Is that right?”

“The roots of the World Tree dug too deep and probably absorbed all the energy from the ores. There’s not a single trace of special metal left.”

“Tch, that damned tree has been nothing but trouble from start to finish!”

“It’s decided, then.”

As the heads of the Three Noble Houses continued their conversation, a sudden voice interrupted, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

The three heads immediately stood up as the empress entered, unaccompanied by attendants or even a single guard. Her hair shimmered like threads woven from mithril, cascading beautifully, while her golden eyes, though reminiscent of those from the direct line of Cardenas, had a slightly different hue. They glinted like polished gemstones, reflecting the chandelier’s light in a dazzling display.

Her appearance revealed the inheritance passed down without fail from the time of the Founding Emperor Ragna. Though she appeared to be a girl no older than twenty, her demeanor and manner of speech carried great dignity.

“I’m sorry, but I can only spare thirty minutes. We need to conclude everything within that time and adjourn, so let’s move quickly.”

Without any need for formalities, the empress gestured for the heads of the houses to sit, taking her place at the head of the table. She nodded her head slightly, signaling them to continue the discussion, a gesture the three heads were clearly accustomed to.

For nearly fifteen minutes, she silently listened to their exchanges, until she raised her hand, causing the conversation to stop abruptly.

“Declan, I have a question.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Declan responded carefully.

“You mentioned Leonard, that boy. Is he truly our last hope?”

The empress’s blunt question made not only Declan but also Arktur and Simon tense. The subject she had broached was one too dangerous for even these mighty individuals to discuss lightly.

Declan responded cautiously, “To say he’s the last... It might be too early for that. According to the observations made by the Wickeline family, we still have until the generation after the next one.”

“That’s merely a grace period. I don’t believe the Mocking Slayer’s legacy foresaw something that far ahead,” the empress argued, easily dismissing his comment.

“Our ancestors dedicated their lives to fighting against a predetermined demise,” she went on, her tone steady. “Despite their efforts, it seems we’re still too late. Or perhaps... should we consider it an achievement that we’ve managed to stave off the inevitable for a thousand years even with our limits as mortals?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

The heads of the houses, one after another, bowed their heads. They realized any comforting words they might offer would be futile. The empress was right. The doom they had delayed for a millennium was finally upon them.

“Arktur.”

“Yes.”

“Now that the Celestial Frontier and the Spriggan Frontier are settled, redirect all resources and manpower that were concentrated on the Barricade Train and Aeroships to preparing for the final battle. We must complete the development of strategic weapons and tactics to fight both the Demoniacs and the Outer Gods. If funds fall short, request additional budgets from the Minister of Finance.”

“I will expedite the process,” Arktur replied, his respectful demeanor far from the typical ruggedness of a dwarf, as he accepted her command.

Then, turning toward Simon of Wickeline, the empress continued issuing orders, “I’m ordering full mobilization of the Arcane Society. Regardless of their origins or affiliations, everyone must be prepared for the final war. If you can integrate the Magic Tower, do so without causing too much discord.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Arcadia’s vision is not narrow, but this world is far broader and more complex. Your roles will be critical. Whether it's the Demoniacs or the Outer Gods, we must enter wartime readiness as soon as there are any signs of conflict.”

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

“Your wish is my command.” Grand Magus Simon knelt on one knee, bowing deeply in response.

With her commands issued to the two heads, the empress then turned her attention to Declan, indicating for him alone to remain. As the empress turned her back on the others, the gaze between her and the Archduke of Sword spoke volumes, their powerful presence filling the secret chamber.

“Declan.”

He bowed low, awaiting her words in silence.

“I wish to meet the boy mentioned in your report. I have cleared a day in my schedule three months from now. Bring him to the Imperial Capital on that day.”

“I will inform Commander Corbin and make the necessary arrangements.”

“Good. You may leave.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Once Declan left the chamber, leaving the empress alone, she blinked slowly, realizing she had only five minutes of free time left. Her appearance almost resembled a doll—so inhuman that, if she remained motionless, she might have been mistaken for a wax figure.

Her silver hair and golden eyes were proof of her blessed lineage. She inherited the temperament and bloodline of the Ones Beloved by the World. In the old era, every god might have coveted such a girl.

Her radiant eyes sparkled fiercely.

“Dear ancestors, are you watching?”

The doom that had been sealed when the Founding Emperor had put an end to the age of the dragons was now approaching in her time.

Was it a calamity, or perhaps otherwise?

“If you’re watching, pray for the victory of your descendants,” Laila, the Seventh Empress of the Arcadian Empire, whispered softly into the silence.