Published: January 4, 2026
The next day, I came alone to the Leararat government office.
The government office is the public administrative institution of the town, usually where the lord or magistrate governing the town resides.
Standing on the main street, I looked up at the office building.
It was at most a three-story building but was an unfamiliar style of architecture.
"...A palace, huh."
That thought surfaced in my mind.
Though it was a style I had never seen before, the decorations on the exterior, the design of the gate, and the positional relationship with the town's elevation—
Everything fulfilled the requirements of what one would call a palace.
"You seem to have enjoyed yourself quite a lot."
I chuckled softly.
It is not uncommon for magistrates or governors assigned to the frontier to wield king-like power over their lands.
Even if they hold the same official position, those stationed in the capital are mere mid-level bureaucrats, but out on the frontier, they become important figures sent from the capital.
So, I often hear stories of officials who prefer to remain low-ranking bureaucrats at the frontier rather than climb the ranks and become part of the empire's core.
Some even bribe inspectors who monitor political achievements to ensure they remain in office.
In that sense, Saralria, a barren and frontier land, would have been the kind of place where that system was easy to operate—I understood everything just by looking at the palace-like building before me.
Well, that doesn't matter now.
I started walking again and approached the gatekeepers standing guard at the main gate.
These kinds of gatekeepers usually work in pairs, stationed on either side of the double-leaf gate.
This place was no exception: two guards, one middle-aged man and a young youth, were on duty.
As I approached, the younger gatekeeper immediately leveled a spear at me, the tip pointed forward—a classic weapon choice.
"Stop! Who are you?"
"This is how it goes."
I didn't want to waste time arguing with the guards.
I unleashed the power of Leviathan and displayed my crest on my back.
A ship-inspired design—my personal crest.
It was a technique I devised back when I was Leviathan.
Along with the crest, I exerted the pressure of Leviathan, my most loyal mad dog, to intimidate them.
"Haha—"
Both gatekeepers simultaneously dropped their spears and knelt down.
Even some passersby nearby dropped to their knees.
This pressure asserted to them that I was the emperor.
"I’m entering. Who’s in charge here?"
"Y-Yes! The governor is here."
"Understood."
Nodding, I left the two gatekeepers behind and entered the government office.
Inside, I encountered various people, but with Leviathan’s intimidation still in effect, everyone I met immediately knelt before me.
I asked about the location of the governor’s office and made my way to the top floor where it was located.
Without knocking, I pushed the door open and entered.
Inside was a political office adorned with furnishings as lavish as my own imperial office.
A man sat with his feet on the desk, sipping from a cup.
“Who’s there? Could you at least knock?”
"Is this okay?"
I knocked on the wide-open door.
The man looked at me with a displeased face—then suddenly,
"Y-Your Majesty!?"
He was shocked, fell off his chair, and the cup shattered on the floor, amber liquid spilling over him.
He crawled forward to me, bowed repeatedly on all fours.
“I deeply apologize for my rudeness for not knowing Your Majesty would come—”
“It’s fine... You know my face, right?”
I said that as I withdrew Leviathan’s crest.
After revealing one’s identity with the crest, the reaction of someone who already knows me is slightly different.
The man before me, the governor of Saralria, had the reaction of someone familiar with my face.
“Yes! I once saw you at the prince’s mansion in the capital.”
“Oh? Your name?”
“I am Yellow Cake.”
“Cake? Related to Rice?”
“Yes, Rice is my foolish younger brother.”
“I see, so you serve Henry, the fourth prince?”
“No, I serve The Eighth Your Highness.”