Published: January 4, 2026
At the Former Prince Thirteen's Residence, now a detached palace, in the courtyard.
I was sparring with an old general alone (、、、).
Damian Noble.
A straightforward man who still reigns at the top of the field as the empire's strongest general.
I was sparring with Damian under the pretense of practice.
Each strike of Damian's sword was heavy.
It was a type of powerful swordsmanship, but not just that.
Just exchanging blows sent shockwaves deep into the bones and marrow.
There was no flamboyance—each cut was a deadly strike.
A practical sword forged on countless battlefields.
Understanding that, I matched him blow for blow, brought it to a clash of blades, then stopped and took a large step back.
We ended the sparring there, as if saying “enough for now.”
“As expected of the empire’s strongest general.”
“Your Majesty, the honor is mine.”
Damian lowered his sword and knelt on one knee.
“Your Majesty has only grown stronger. To have such sword talent reigning at the peak of our empire is nothing short of divine grace.”
“You’ve gotten good at flattery. Maybe even a battle-hardened old general softens with age.”
“My words are all sincere.”
“Hah, just joking. You were already quite old when we first met.”
I chuckled lightly to emphasize the joke.
Damian’s demeanor suits his title perfectly—strict, straightforward, and not one to joke around.
So it’s necessary to explicitly say when I’m joking.
I motioned to bring Damian over to the gazebo in the courtyard and ordered him to sit.
“I called you here today because of the Gyalwan suppression.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“To be blunt, I want Jessica to focus solely on defeating Gyalwan. For that, I want to ensure complete security: border lockdown, supply transport, vigilance against other forces. Of course, I will consult Henry, but I want your opinion as the field commander.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“That said, military matters are not my specialty. Interfering directly tends to repeat historical mistakes. I have given the general direction. Do we have the right tactics or personnel?”
“With all due respect—”
Damian began after that preface.
“First, the border lockdown.”
“Hmm.”
“My eldest son, Karl Noble, is suitable. Lockdowns require a certain inflexibility. If he follows only Your Majesty’s orders, with no exceptions allowed, he will fulfill his role perfectly.”
“I see.”
A strict seriousness, huh?
That may be questionable, but in some ways reassuring.
“Next, vigilance against other forces. I recommend my second son, Keel.”
“Why?”
“Keel has been good at enduring pain since childhood and is very patient. There’s almost no chance of sudden war, so he’s suitable for thorough deterrence.”
“I understand.”
“Finally, supply transport. I ask you entrust my fourth son, Earl.”
“Very well, I’ll entrust it to him. Tell Henry that I have approved it and consult him accordingly.”
“Much obliged.”
“I won’t get into details. I just want Jessica to focus on that one point, understood?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You may step back.”
“Excuse me.”
Damian knelt again, then stood and left.
After seeing him off, I called Don.
“You called, Your Majesty?”
“Do you know Damian’s third son?”
“Is it… Neil Noble, if I recall?”
“Investigate Neil.”
“Why?”
I told Don about Damian recommending his three sons.
“Those were eyes quite the opposite of Father’s.”
“Retired Emperor Your Majesty’s?”
“Yes. Eyes doting on children. He clings to his own privilege, trying to rescue his poorly performing children. His reasons are always contrived. For his fourth son’s supply duties, he begged with no real reason.”
“That Damian…”
Don looked incredulous.
Understandable—the empire’s strongest general is known for being strict and straightforward.
Such a side of him is quite surprising.
“Therefore, investigate the third son.”
“The one name left unmentioned.”
“Yes.”
I nodded deeply.
“If I’m right, the third son is considered ‘capable even without connections.’”