The Festival of Longevity, including the eve of the festival, was the Empire's grandest celebration, lasting for three days. But behind the splendor, the nobles waged an invisible war. Who was conversing with whom, whose attire was more extravagant, and even who arrived at the banquet hall earliest.
All of it became a measure for gauging their hierarchy. The previous day's eve was merely a preliminary skirmish, but the man who was now the talk among the nobles was, without a doubt, him.
Isaac Upperhills.
At the breakfast table, a certain court noble spoke.
"See, I told you in my letter. That man, he's the real deal."
At his words, a landed noble who had come up from the countryside scratched his head. The nobles of the capital naturally knew of Isaac, but the same was not true for those from the provinces. The regional lord had even tested Isaac, claiming he would verify the truth of the rumors.
"From what I saw, he's just a kid who knows nothing but magic. Did you really have to hound him like that?"
"Ahem! He himself thanked me for asking the questions."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. It seems the rumor about Upperhills fleecing the Winterheart family is all nonsense too. So suspicious of you..."
"I never believed such nonsense!"
Though there had been various incidents like this, in the end, yesterday's events were merely a probe. What was truly important was the 'oath of fealty' to be held on the afternoon of the second day. In this ceremony of pledging loyalty and offering tribute, the Emperor would bestow upon them imperial gifts.
How valuable a tribute one offered and how large an imperial grant one received at this event would determine their prestige. However, on occasion, the Emperor would not stop at just bestowing gifts but would also grant the petitioner's 'request'. Naturally, this was a great honor.
And this year's petitioner was... A semi-noble, recipient of a First-Class Medal, 'Isaac Upperhills'. From another table, a distance away, a certain count began.
"Is it that man again?"
"So it seems..."
"Why would His Majesty choose to grant that child's petition, of all people?"
A noble across from him chuckled and said.
"Isn't it because he doesn't seem likely to make any grand petition?"
The Isaac Upperhills he had seen last night was far from the monster in the rumors. He was just a mage who seemed somewhat naive and simple-hearted. Such a person was unlikely to make a bold petition.
It was a reasonable point, but not everyone agreed.
"You've been away from the world of magic for a long time so you might not know, but one cannot discuss recent magic without mentioning Upperhills."
Anyone with even a little knowledge of magic knew just how incredible Isaac's achievements were.
"Hmm... when was the last time a commoner-born mage made a petition to the Emperor?"
"It was during Doloren's time."
"... Does that mean Upperhills also has the makings of a Great Mage?"
"How should I know."
A brief silence fell over the table. The nobles were contemplating the value of 'Isaac Upperhills'. If he truly was talented enough to become a Great Mage, they would have to start lining up now.
And yet...
Thinking back to his appearance yesterday, lining up behind that man seemed impossible. His very countenance suggested it. In the end, everything was still shrouded in mystery.
What kind of person Isaac Upperhills truly was. And why His Majesty intended to accept his petition. The details would only be revealed when the time for the oath of fealty arrived.
"Next, Richard of Baron Fontaine!"
As the herald called out, those whose names were announced stepped forward in turn. They offered the specialties of their respective territories as tribute, and the Emperor bestowed upon them imperial grants of similar value. Of course, the Emperor did not move personally.
The sun of the Empire simply sat on the throne without a word; most of the procedures were handled by the chamberlain and the herald. It was not particularly strange. For more than a decade now, the oath of fealty, which should have been the most honorable of ceremonies, had been conducted in this manner.
The oath of fealty ceremony was nearing its end. Gradually, everyone's attention turned to one person.
Isaac Upperhills.
What would he offer, and what would he receive? Finally, his turn came.
"Recipient of the First-Class Sacred Golden Lion Medal. Son of the Empire, Isaac Upperhills, step forward!"
Step, step.
The young man in a mage's robe, Isaac, walked toward His Majesty the Emperor. All eyes were fixed on him. Some nobles looked around in confusion.
Unlike the others, there were no attendants to be seen around Isaac carrying tribute goods. What on earth is he planning? Is he going to present it himself?
In the midst of the questioning gazes, Isaac knelt on one knee and spoke.
"I greet the sun of the Empire, His Majesty the Emperor."
Just as the herald was about to speak as per protocol, the Emperor quietly raised his hand. At that single, small gesture, the herald firmly closed his mouth and stepped back. Everyone in the audience chamber was surprised.
For His Majesty, who had remained silent throughout the ceremony, to personally step forward. The Emperor opened his mouth, his voice low.
"You have no attendants."
"It is because my tribute is something no mere attendant would dare to carry."
"... Speak further."
"Today, to Your Majesty, the master of all ages, I wish to present the one and only thing Your Majesty does not possess."
At those words, the Emperor's impassive expression broke.
"This entire continent is mine. What do you mean, something I do not possess? What are you talking about?"
"That would be..."
Isaac took out a blue floating stone and said.
"The sky, Your Majesty."
The Sun of the Empire. Master of Ten Thousand Generations. These were all titles for the Emperor of the Empire.
But to the current Emperor, 'Pertinax Arcanus', the meaning of those words did not resonate. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. The Emperor sat on his throne, staring blankly ahead.
"Next, Richard of Baron Fontaine!"
As the herald shouted, nobles came forward one by one, presenting their tributes and collecting their imperial grants. The Emperor did nothing during the process. Even if the Emperor did not move, everyone moved perfectly well on their own.
'I am the Emperor, so why do they move at the herald's words?' 'Why are they happy about an imperial grant that I, the Emperor, did not even decide upon?' Of course, it was the Emperor who had ordered the herald to conduct the ceremony.
It was because exchanging gifts with each and every one of those numerous nobles was incredibly bothersome. In other words, there was no special reason. He did it because it was a hassle.
But because of that hassle, his work disappeared, and so did his motivation. As a result of the lost motivation, what remained was, once again, the hassle. It was then that someone appeared before the Emperor.
"I greet the sun of the Empire, His Majesty the Emperor."
He was not accompanied by an attendant. Could it be that he had no tribute? The Emperor, for the first time in a very long time, adjusted his posture and raised his hand.
At this, the herald, the Emperor's proxy, fell silent, and the mouth of the true Emperor opened.
"You have no attendants."
"It is because my tribute is something no mere attendant would dare to carry."
"... Speak further."
"Today, to Your Majesty, the master of all ages, I wish to present the one and only thing Your Majesty does not possess."
For the Emperor to not possess something. Was he talking about the northern lands lost to the magical beasts? But according to Imperial law, all the ancient lands of the north belonged to the Emperor.
'Something that I do not possess...?' No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with an answer. Therefore, the Emperor asked the mage.
"This entire continent is mine. What do you mean, something I do not possess? What are you talking about?"
"That would be..."
The mage took out a blue floating stone and said.
"The sky, Your Majesty."
At this point, the Emperor was certain. 'This is my daughter's scheme.' A small laugh escaped him.
'I was wondering why I could hear everything so clearly...' The mage before him was reciting a script written by his daughter. The Emperor asked him again.
"You must be that Isaac."
"Yes, I am."
"I am the father of the Empire, so you are my grandson."
"So speak comfortably. How do you intend to bring me the sky with that blue-orb-like thing?"
At the Emperor's words, Isaac began his explanation. Though the Emperor had learned magic in his youth, the words coming from Isaac's mouth felt like a foreign language. The ones who reacted to his explanation were the surrounding court mages.
"Impossible... to control a floating stone?"
"The Principia...! He finally succeeded."
The Emperor synthesized the reactions of the court mages and questioned Isaac again.
"So, you're saying that by using that floating stone, one can fly freely through the sky?"
"That is correct."
"Then can you make me fly right now?"
"Yes."
"On your life?"
"Yes."
At Isaac's assertion, the bodies of the guards flinched. The guard captain opened his mouth, stammering.
"Your Majesty... using a magic that has not been verified by the Magic Tower is...!"
"I do not wish to hear it."
At the Emperor's words, the guard captain fell silent. It wasn't that the Emperor trusted Isaac more than the guard captain. 'This child is definitely... from the Magic Tower, wasn't he?'
He trusted his daughter, and his old mentor, the Dean. The Emperor rose from his throne and slowly approached Isaac.
"Alright. What specifically must I do?"
"If you come close to this floating stone, I will handle the magical composition. After that..."
"After that?"
Tap.
The Emperor placed his hand on the blue floating stone. At a horizontal distance where their eyes met, Isaac's mouth opened.
"You may enjoy the sky."
"Quite romantic."
"Are you ready?"
"Begin."
Flash.
The floating stone shone and rose toward the air. Following the stone, the bodies of the Emperor and Isaac also ascended.
Murmur, murmur. Your Majesty!
You must not! The surroundings grew noisy, and everyone in the audience chamber looked up at the two of them. The Emperor then spoke to Isaac.
"Go up until I can no longer hear those fools' voices."
"Understood."
Creak.
With a gesture from Isaac, the ceiling of the audience chamber opened, and their bodies floated out through the opening.
"Faster. Go up until we are higher than the clouds."
"Yes."
Following the Emperor's command, the two accelerated toward the sky. But the sensation the Emperor felt was closer to a fall. A curious thing.
To fall toward the sky.
Thump, thump.
The Emperor could hear the sound of his own heart. The last time his heart had pounded like this was when he stood on the battlefield as the Crown Prince. Isaac asked him.
"Are you feeling any discomfort?"
"None, so continue onward."
It was an experience he'd never had before, and his heart felt like it would burst, but he had not the slightest desire to stop.
"Understood."
At some point, the sounds from the ground could no longer be heard.
Whoooosh.
Only the sound of the wind brushed past his ears, and before his eyes were the clouds. What kind of sound would it make to pass through a cloud? The answer to a question a five-year-old child might wonder about, the Emperor was only now able to learn in his middle age.
Whoooosh.
There wasn't much difference between the clouds and the wind. But just by learning that, the Emperor felt joy. Having broken through the clouds, the two of them stood in the sky.
As the Emperor had said, they had ascended until they were higher than the clouds.
"Shall we go higher?"
"Your Majesty?"
"No... let us stop here for now."
The Emperor stood in the sky and blankly looked around. The surroundings were nothing but blue sky. Even the clouds were beneath his feet.
"Astonishing."
"What is, Your Majesty?"
"What do you mean... am I not in the sky?"
"Ah."
Was it because he was standing in a sky without a single shadow? His eyes were dazzled. The Emperor covered the sun with his fingers.
"A cloud the size of my palm came close enough to become as large as the audience chamber, yet the sun can still be covered by a single palm."
"Just how far away is it..."
And how immense it must actually be, he couldn't fathom. And yet, he was called the Sun of the Empire. What a joke.
Just then, Isaac's mouth opened.
"The distance to the sun is approximately 150 million kilometers."
The Emperor was at a loss for words. It was because he hadn't expected to actually receive an answer. Isaac tilted his head and asked again.
"Should I perhaps tell you in yards instead of meters?"
"... No. That will be all."
What a peculiar young man. Peculiar enough to fully understand why his daughter kept this person by her side.