Regressor of the Fallen Family

Step by step.

Walking down the corridor of the palace, lined with magnificent works of art, was a young man. He was a handsome young man, suited perfectly to the court attire decorated with golden dragons embroidered with shiny gold threads, but those who encountered him were horrified and hastily bowed their heads.

Black hair, black eyes, and yellow skin were the symbols of the imperial family’s direct lineage, and the golden dragon emblem was something only those belonging to the imperial family could use.

Therefore, it was only natural for people to bow their heads at a 90-degree angle whenever they crossed paths with the young man, even if they did not recognize his face.

“Ah! I beg your pardon.”

“Greetings to the esteemed one!”

“Oh, it’s alright. Go about your business.”

Despite the stiff reactions of the people, the young man accepted their greetings with a smile, and after he had left, the remaining servants and nobles nodded to each other in approval at his confident and relaxed departure.

“Is that the Second Prince?”

“He truly stands out.”

While to themselves it sounded like a whisper, the discreet magic constantly deployed by the Second Prince transmitted their words directly to him.

With a small smile.

A magic that had become a habit of seeking out targets for purges or rewards, today brought him a light-hearted smile.

However, both his self-assured face and his unhesitant stride began to change slightly as he reached a certain place.

A slightly tense face.

And more cautious steps.

The Second Prince, standing before the door marked with the golden dragon, nodded silently to the knight guarding it, and the knight announced his visit.

“His Highness Baros Van Ares requests an audience.”

– Let him in.

With that deep voice, the door opened, and Second Prince Baros Van Ares took a deep breath and cautiously stepped into the room.

And he laid eyes on someone.

The massive frame that filled the throne and the angular face with strangely shimmering black eyes.

The moment his eyes met the Emperor’s gaze, the Second Prince immediately prostrated himself.

“I am in the presence of His Imperial Majesty.”

“Raise your head, Baros.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Do you have something to say?”

“It’s about the eastern border nation that has changed its name from Grandia to the Kingdom of McLean.”

“Ah, the country of that boy Logan, is that it? The Kingdom of McLean?”

“They’ve had a change of dynasty due to Logan McLean’s coup.”

“Ha…”

A chuckle.

“Is that right. A king, eh? Recruiting him seems out of the question now.”

Was he lamenting this turn of events despite how it unfolded?

The Second Prince internally scoffed at the Emperor’s unending greed for talent.

Of course, outwardly he dared not express this, speaking calmly only of other facts he knew.

“As soon as he ascended to the throne, he significantly raised taxes and is using the money to build up a royal army.”

“Ho?”

“Considering his prompt actions, he appears to be an ambitious young king. If left to his own devices, he might become quite an obstacle in ‘that plan.’”

He deliberately left out the report that the harsh policies might lead to self-destruction.

Contingency plans should always anticipate the worst.

Now that it was clear this was not a talent the Emperor could harness, the latter’s concern was solely ‘that plan,’ possibly years in the future.

Fortunately, the moment he mentioned it, a glint of interest flashed in the lackadaisical eyes of the Emperor.

“Hmm. What about it?”

“I would like to initiate the plan I mentioned before. Please give your consent.”

Eyes alike in black met for a moment.

And then the Emperor nodded indifferently.

“Well, it might be worth a try.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Once again bowing deeply, the Second Prince left the Emperor’s office with a stride that seemed a little lighter than when he entered.

* * *

“Things have been quite ominous lately.”

“I hear the lowborn are cursing the king, saying it’s difficult to survive.”

“People are quick to anger these days, fights breaking out over trifles…”

The discussions continued, not a single word of them good.

Yet as they caught each other’s eyes, the speakers’ faces were brimming with smiles.

“Hahaha, indeed, those simple-minded below us are easier to handle. We collect the taxes, and the king suffers the blame.”

“As if only they would do such a thing. The king himself is no different. Tax increases, raising armies, major winter constructions. There is a limit to misgovernment.”

“Well, it works out in ‘our’ favor, does it not?”

“Indeed it does.”

The convivial voices filled the drawing room once more.

‘That’s right. It would benefit us most of all, especially me.’

Jacques Juan masked his true feelings and responded with a smooth smile to the two people grinning before him.

His conspiring comrade Ivan Claude and the contentious Mike Teroda.

Their attitudes were different, but Jacques, who was also an earl from a nearby estate, had chosen to join hands with them to rally more noble voices.

Of course, since he had led the whole affair, the other lower nobles regarded him as their chief—a status that the two men now laughing and thinking him their equal would also eventually acknowledge with their heads bowed.

“There is, however, something of slight concern.”

“Oh? Do share, Earl Mike.”

“That dam construction. I’ve heard they’ve benefited from it several times in the McLean region, but if it were to be successfully completed, it would surely increase the royal dominion’s revenue, would it not? Then that army might be able to be maintained, which concerns me.”

Ah, not a complete fool then?

Jacques Juan elegantly sipped his tea, hiding his derision, and then slowly began to speak.

“You make an astute point. Indeed ‘in the future,’ that might occur.”

Sensing the pointedness of his words.

“Are you suggesting there’s another course of action?”

Mike Teroda, with a now stern expression, scratched at his beak-like nose.

“The dam construction, which would turn the wasteland into arable land, looks impressive even to me. But so far, nowhere aside from the McLean area has shown any real results.”

“That ongoing construction in the McLean territory…”

“Have you heard about the wages they give to those workers?”

“What about it?”

“They say because it’s winter and hard work, they pay the laborers 30% more than the usual rough workers. They even provide them with food and accommodation while employing nearly 10,000 workers.”

“That’s absurd.”

A snicker.

“Yes. The king is doing such absurd things. If that’s the level of investment, even turning the wasteland into fields, it’s unlikely they will recover the construction costs with that year’s harvest. With the initial yield being small, it would certainly take several years unless some magic is involved.”

“Even so, wouldn’t the situation stabilize after a few years?”

“My plan is to demand the disbandment of that army based on the gathered power and public opinion of the nobility before that time comes. And the elite troops that the king has so diligently raised, ‘we can’ put to good use.”

“Ah…!”

As Mike Teroda genuinely admired the plan, Jacques Juan savored a slight sense of victory, raising his wine glass.

“The king’s self-destruction is ushering in a new era for us. All we have to do is follow that path, right?”

In response to his toast-like words, Ivan and Mike joined in with laughter.

‘A new era, my era is coming.’

Jacques Juan laughed heartily, feeling the desire that had been writhing in the depths of his heart for some time.

* * *

Before the new year began, the McLean Kingdom’s subjects endured some truly trying days.

The new king’s tax increases meant that the people, unable to fill their storehouses as in previous years, worried about surviving the winter months, let alone the upcoming farming season.

Yet amidst all this, one place actually buzzed with energy, in stark contrast to the unfavorable rumors spread around.

This lively spot was the dam construction site in the western wastelands, devised to create a water supply system.

“Dig deeper on that side!”

“Right! That’s enough! Just a bit more!”

“Leave the large stones to the magicians!”

The faces of nearly 10,000 workers digging channels, hauling rocks, and bustling at the foot of the mountain range were all alight with enthusiasm.

It was a scene of inexplicable vitality from afar.

The ground, frozen solid and even harder to dig than just a few months prior, and the bone-chilling weather that nipped at any idle flesh, would have deterred many.

But.

“I’ve sent plenty of food back home, so there’s no worries. My daughter even wrote me a letter saying they’re eating well!”

“Working hard here means my family can have a comfortable winter. This feels more restful than farming.”

“They say we’ll get a bonus if we finish early. Let’s wrap it up before next year’s farming season!”

“Right, let’s keep our spirits up!”

It was a sight where not overseers but the workers themselves encouraged one another.

Logan’s smile broadened as he approached the site, overhearing the voices from afar.

“The mage and the Hammer foreman are nowhere in sight. I shall send someone to greet them.”

“Don’t do that. It’s more important to complete the project sooner. I’ll go to them directly.”

“Understood.”

If there was one inconvenience since becoming king, it was that such trivial formalities ate away his time.

Although some ceremonious matters were unavoidably necessary, Logan had no desire to uphold such practices outside the palace walls.

“Avoid the workers as much as possible and take a less populated route.”

It’s unnecessary to go to such lengths.

Noticing the dissatisfaction on the faces of his accompanying knights, Logan still veered toward a less populated path, as speedier completion of the dam was of utmost importance.

Even as they took a roundabout path, it was impossible for the workers to miss the royal flag hoisted high.

However, since no one dared to approach the vicinity of that esteemed flag, the first to respond to Logan’s presence were the dwarves working on the dam gates and the wizards from the Golem Tower.

“Your, Your Majesty?!”

“Cease operations!”

“His Majesty has arrived!”

As the commotion grew, Logan, who was walking briskly, stopped in his tracks.

Then, a familiar-faced wizard rushed forward with a somewhat weary face.

“Your Majesty. Why have you come without notice?”

“There’s no need to stop working for me, Grik. Continue with your tasks. Where are Clayton and Hammer?”

“Inside the mountain range, conducting an internal assessment.”

“Alright. I’ll head that way.”

“I-I’ll guide you.”

“No need. Carry on with your work.”

Leaving the flustered Grik behind, Logan headed for the tunnel carved into the mountainside.

The setting, both strange and familiar, softened the stoic look on Logan’s face with a faint smile.

‘I remember being truly excited when I first made a dam in McLean.’

Hammer would have had a fit if he knew back then, but Logan genuinely felt that way.

The overwhelming sense of responsibility as the deadline approached, coupled with the still burdensome weight of the crown—it seemed his laughter had diminished.

– If you ascend to a higher position, I worry you might have an even harder time.

The words of his longtime servant resonated in his heart, but…

‘This is the path I’ve chosen. Only a few years are left until the final test. I must prevail, and then, I’ll laugh to my heart’s content.’

With renewed resolve, Logan soon noticed familiar faces appearing before him.

‘There’s still much to do beyond this.’

For the new king, there remained a backlog of tasks to complete through the winter.