NOVPUB“One thing at a time. Let’s start with the martial arts tournament.”
Asella carefully scanned the report I’d brought.
“When did you even assemble this knight order...”
She seemed ready to question the contents—then stopped herself.
Camilla was still watching. She must’ve realized there was no benefit in showing our hand just yet.
Snap. Asella closed the report and leisurely sipped her tea.
“Well done, just as ordered. The 120 additional knights—we’ll use them in the tournament.”
“One hundred and twenty?! Where in the palace did you get that many troops?!”
Camilla practically shrieked in disbelief.
A hundred and twenty made up an entire company. Four companies formed a regiment, and each of the four regiments defended one side of the Imperial Palace—north, south, east, and west.
Of course, the personal knight orders of the Emperor and each palace were separate from that structure.
In the tournament, both faction-affiliated palace knight orders and some imperial knights participate.
Since the Emperor himself moves, large-scale deployment follows—but the palace itself can’t be left defenseless.
Even the most influential faction wouldn’t typically have more than 200 knights available for the tournament.
With the 20 knights already from Moonlight Palace, that brought our count to 140. Enough to stand toe-to-toe with the other successors.
“Mother.”
Asella turned to Camilla and declared,
“This time, I’ll show you that I can win the tournament without any support.”
“You...!”
Camilla bristled, unable to contain her anger.
Hearing “I don’t need you anymore” said aloud had to sting.
I’d been listening from just outside the door. It seemed she’d gone to great lengths to unsettle Asella—dangling Second Prince Georg’s support in front of her. All wasted effort.
“Hah! Let’s see how long you cling to that scoundrel! Gotberg or not, how could you get tangled up with such a fraud!”
Camilla grabbed the hem of her dress with both hands and stormed out of the room in a huff.
Only once she was gone did Asella exhale a small, quiet sigh, the tension visibly leaving her shoulders.
“You schemed all this without my permission.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“You think that was a compliment? Why did you expand the knight order without telling me?”
Asella shot me a sharp look.
Didn’t seem like she was particularly pleased about this one.
“I just thought it would be better if our faction were a bit stronger.”
“That’s my job. You’re the physician.”
“And also your fiancé.”
At that, her lips twitched ever so slightly at the word fiancé.
After a moment, she spoke again.
“These knights might be useful. They're bound by contract, so they won’t betray us for a single tournament. And these types are usually easy to handle.”
Then she looked up at me, narrowing her eyes.
“Gotberg, what do you want?”
“If it’s compensation... how about approving the contract behind that last report?”
“Hm.”
The mask patent.
I hadn’t filed a patent for generic mask production—just for the modernized design I’d created myself.
“It’s a licensing contract. I take 70 percent of the profits, the remaining 30 goes to Moonlight Palace’s budget. Fair?”
“The mask, huh.”
Asella didn’t look too thrilled. Something was off.
“I heard you made one for Lauga.”
Her eyes sharpened.
I hadn’t seen that threatening glare in a while.
I hadn’t even done anything annoying lately, so what was this about?
“You heard about that?”
“Keeping track of the other successors’ movements is basic strategy. But.”
Her tone dropped to a chilling register.
“It looked exactly like my mask.”
“The size was different.”
I mean... a mask’s a mask.
Mine just happened to be the original.
...Wait. What?
My status window started going haywire.
[No. 077: Avatar of Jealousy 14% → 62%]
What the hell? Is this a bug?
Why did it spike that fast?
My chest was already damp with cold sweat.
One glance at Asella and the air felt like another cold wave had hit, despite the warmer weather.
“Gotberg.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you made a mask for Lauga?”
I did... just now.
Okay, so maybe I should’ve told her earlier...
From her perspective, I guess it could look like I gave something valuable to another faction without consulting her.
Did she... take that as treason?
This woman. Her thought process is way too extreme sometimes.
I let my guard down because Lauga had said she’d “smooth things over.”
I figured, since the mask helped Moonlight Palace’s budget in the end, it wouldn’t be a problem.
“This is a misunderstanding, Your Highness.”
“What’s the misunderstanding? I don’t see one.”
No way I was talking her down from this.
Let’s see if this works.
I pulled something from my doctor’s bag and offered it to her.
“What’s this?”
“Your new mask, Your Highness.”
“You expect me to wear the same °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° thing as Lauga?”
“It’s different. If you look closely, you’ll see the Moonlight Palace emblem embroidered on the lower right corner.”
She flipped the mask over at the mention of embroidery and inspected it.
“Hmph.”
Snorting, she unfolded it and put it on.
Then she had her head maid fetch a mirror so she could admire the look. 𝑛𝘰𝑣𝑝𝑢𝑏.𝘤𝑜𝘮
“How many of these do you have?”
“I just made them today. I’ve prepared three for Your Highness’s personal use.”
“From now on, they’re exclusive to me.”
“Of course, as you command.”
I took a quick glance at the status window.
[No. 077: Avatar of Jealousy 62% → 14%]
Phew. Crisis averted.
I’d actually been working on a variant with the palace’s insignia as a way to distinguish our members—since masks obscure faces. Glad it worked.
Cleared of treason, for now.
“Ah, Your Highness. The left strap is twisted.”
“Hmm? Oh, I’ll fix it myself.”
Asella shot out her palm toward me, clearly rejecting my help.
Then, after adjusting it herself, she suddenly snapped her head toward me again.
“Gotberg. Did you show Lauga how to wear the mask?”
Her golden mana flared behind her eyes like fire.
Didn’t know the details, but I instinctively knew I had to tread carefully.
“Not at all. She already seemed perfectly used to it.”
“If she hadn’t, would you have... helped her?”
“Do you truly think I would do such a thing for another princess?”
“...Fine.”
Finally, Asella seemed to relax, her suspicion fading.
She turned her focus back to the first report and began jotting down a few notes.
“I’ll overhaul our strategy for the tournament to account for the new numbers.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Gotberg, do you have any strategic suggestions?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Mm-hmm. I heard you handled the goblin shaman subjugation with ease. Not much experience commanding knights?”
Lucie, I’m guessing.
I hate having my workload increased.
“Of course, palace knights are on another level in terms of discipline, but I thought maybe an outsider’s perspective could help.”
“We’ve planned for Lauga’s faction to throw sand in Georg’s gears and go down with him in a mock skirmish.”
“...Explain that in detail.”
Asella smiled like a devil, resting her chin on the back of her hand.
***
“Next, Her Highness Princess Asella. Please prepare for transport.”
At the court mage’s cue, we stepped onto the teleportation gate.
Asella, two guards, Lucie, and myself. Five in total.
As the mages traced their spell formations, mana began to rise around us like vapor.
“Engaging the spell.”
The destination—the basin deep in the eastern mountain range—was two full days on horseback.
So most of the forces had already moved there in advance, while the royal core traveled via teleportation on the day of.
Considering the cost and difficulty of the spell, that made sense. The old Emperor probably couldn’t handle a long trip anyway.
Still... do we really need to go this far just for flower-viewing?
If I were an enemy nation planning to invade, I’d hit the palace right now.
“Urgh...”
The moment the spell ended, the nausea hit me like a wave.
“Doctor, shall I carry you?”
Tanya, waiting nearby, offered her arm.
She usually hid her expressions well, but I knew now.
She was having fun watching me suffer.
“I’m fine. I’m not about to get wrecked by another teleportation.”
“You really do look better. You must’ve been training hard.”
“Of course. Two hours of strength training every day.”
Lie.
In truth, I’d just made and taken anti-nausea medication beforehand.
Though I really had been building stamina. If my HP loss suddenly worsened, I could drop dead in a ditch, so I was trying to keep up with cardio as much as possible.
Trying being the operative word.
One day, while running the palace hills, I stumbled upon an herb nicknamed Madman’s Root.
Perfect for extracting scopolamine—key ingredient in nausea meds.
Thus, teleportation magic was no longer my mortal enemy.
“Welcome to the tournament grounds. I’ll escort you from here.”
“Good. Let’s see how well this circus is set up.”
Royal physicians are required to remain within 100 meters of the royal family member they’re assigned to while outdoors.
So I followed Asella around the tournament arena like a loyal puppy.
“They carved out half a mountain and built a colosseum.”
It wasn’t exactly remote, but still far from the capital.
To think this entire place existed just because the Emperor wanted to enjoy flower-viewing once a year... the construction, the logistics, the insane cost.
This was the scale of the Empire.
The most extravagant waste of money I’d ever seen with my own two eyes.
What even is the life of an emperor?
“The flowers are gorgeous, though.”
The whole mountain shimmered in pale blue.
I picked up a petal—it felt just like a cherry blossom, both in size and texture.
But it had a silvery dusting on a watery blue base, and sparkled like something out of a dream.
“They’re called Silver Azure Blossoms. They only bloom here, thanks to the unique climate and soil.”
So there were beautiful things in this world.
I’d never seen anything like this in my last life.
“Still, the real focus is the tournament.”
As expected, Asella didn’t spare the petals a second glance. She was already inside the colosseum, surveying the battlefield.
The tournament had a few formats, but it was mostly a competition between knight orders, not mages.
So there wasn’t much for me to do.
Cheer beside her, maybe?
Eight factions were competing.
Four belonged to succession contenders. Three came from the Emperor’s cousins and nephews.
And then us.
With that spread, even placing third overall would make a big impression.
Especially since Asella’s faction had never stood out before.
“Gotberg.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“I’m going to win the tournament.”
“Win? Well, of course, our knights will try, but even third place would be more than—”
[No. 012: Fall of the Empire 35% → 52%]
Correction.
The goal is victory.
