As the plane landed, Yang Hui stepped onto the soil of the Imperial Capital once again. Looking at the line of people waiting to receive him, the corners of his mouth quirked upward.
"The old man really thinks highly of me to send you to greet me, Bismarck."
Indeed, leading the reception party was the First Knight of the Knights of the Round Table, Bismarck Waldstein—the most loyal follower of Charles zi Britannia and the strongest warrior under his command.
Hearing Yang Hui's tone and the way he addressed the Emperor, Bismarck's face darkened. He scolded in a low voice, "Fourth Highness, you should maintain the proper etiquette and respect toward His Majesty."
In truth, he had long since grown accustomed to the attitude between Yang Hui and Charles zi Britannia. Even Charles zi Britannia didn't seem to care, so there was little Bismarck could do.
It was just that... they were in public now. As a prince, shouldn't he show some discretion?
"Fine, fine, I get it," Yang Hui waved his hand dismissively, making Bismarck's face darken even further.
However, he didn't press the matter. Instead, he quickly ushered Yang Hui into the car to avoid him losing face for the Imperial Family in front of the servants.
It was a stretched limousine. The only connection between the driver's seat and the rear compartment was a small window. After Bismarck boarded, he closed that window, its significance self-evident.
"What instructions does the old man have?" Yang Hui asked, cutting straight to the point.
"Sigh, Fourth Highness..." Yang Hui's attitude toward Charles zi Britannia truly exhausted Bismarck. As the Emperor's most loyal knight, he couldn't stand seeing anyone touch the Emperor's dignity. Yet, the person before him left him helpless, especially after his brilliant performance on the African battlefield.
"Don't always sweat the small stuff. Tell me, what do you have for me?"
"...Very well, Fourth Highness. Before you even returned to the country, many people already had their eyes on you. Please, you must maintain your vigilance."
"I wasn't asking what you wanted to say, but what he told you to tell me." Although Bismarck's concern was genuine in his own way, at its core, it was only because Yang Hui's excellence could bring benefits to the Empire. It wasn't a sincere concern for Yang Hui's safety, so Yang Hui felt nothing toward it.
"...His Majesty told me to tell you: well done."
"...I see."
Yang Hui's expression remained perfectly calm, which surprised Bismarck. Charles zi Britannia was the personification of sternness, the benchmark of the Empire, and the incarnation of majesty.
Even in private, Bismarck, who served at Charles zi Britannia's side, had never heard him praise anyone. Not even the designated Minister, Schneizel, who managed state affairs with impeccable order, nor Cornelia, who became the youngest female general in history and achieved legendary military feats.
Only Yang Hui had received this unique honor. Shouldn't he be extremely excited? Why was he so indifferent?
"Prince Yang Hui..."
"Anything else?" Yang Hui interrupted, pressing Bismarck. He didn't want to listen to some fanatic fanboying over his object of loyalty.
"...Sigh, only that one sentence."
"How much time do I have?"
"...Ten minutes."
"That's enough. Regene."
"It's already been arranged."
After that, the car remained silent until it entered the Imperial Palace. As he stepped out, Yang Hui said to Bismarck, "I'm going to go clean up."
"Yes, your Highness."
This was also something he had Regene Regetta prepare in advance. Although Yang Hui felt zero respect for Charles zi Britannia and didn't consider him the father of this life, it wasn't time to break away yet. The surface-level appearances still had to be maintained.
Ten minutes. A quick shower, a change into a clean formal suit, and Yang Hui followed Bismarck into the Great Hall of the palace.
It was incredibly magnificent, yet lacked sufficient lighting. Even in broad daylight, it felt dim and oppressive. Only the high-seated throne was bathed in focused light—the only thing on high, the only incarnation of light, the only guiding beacon.
"You have returned."
"Yes, Father."
"You did well."
"Thank you for the praise, Father."
"What reward do you desire?"
The dialogue was brief and concise. It didn't sound like a father welcoming a son back alive from a battlefield, nor did it sound like a son reuniting with his father after surviving a life-or-death ordeal. There was no familial affection at all; it was merely a superior bestowing a gift on a subordinate, or even a master program controlling a sub-program.
"Two people. Subordinates of Imperial Brother Schneizel."
"Names."
"Lloyd Asplund and Cecile Croomy."
"Anything else?"
"A privilege. To form my own special unit. A unit that belongs only to me."
"Presumptuous! Your Highness, how could you..."
As soon as the second request came out, Bismarck couldn't hold back. Everything in the Empire belonged to His Majesty. No matter how many nobles and politicians Schneizel secretly courted, no matter how high Cornelia's prestige was in the military, or how many lords and "local kings" there were overseas—as long as the Emperor wished, he could take it all back at any time. Because while these things were granted to them, they ultimately belonged to the Empire, to the Emperor.
But Yang Hui's request was an attempt to carve out power from Charles zi Britannia's hands. The privilege he sought was something even the Emperor could not interfere with—something that would belong entirely to Yang Hui.
"Silence, Bismarck."
"But Your Majesty..."
"It matters not." Charles zi Britannia waved his hand, signaling Bismarck to step back. He then looked down at Yang Hui, his gaze heavy and focused. Clearly, if Yang Hui didn't give him a satisfactory answer, he wouldn't let him leave easily. "Reason."
"The Empire needs the sharpest blade to slay all enemies who stand in its path."
"...I grant it."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Having obtained what he wanted, Yang Hui had no intention of continuing to kneel for others. He stood up and left the hall.
"Your Majesty, if you need a blade, the Knights of the Round Table are the blade in Your Majesty's hand. The Fourth Highness, he..." After Yang Hui left, Bismarck still tried to persuade Charles zi Britannia.
"It matters not." It was the same answer, but this time with a reason. "Let him make a scene. No matter how big a scene he makes, it doesn't matter."
Unparalleled confidence. This was the Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire, the sovereign sitting upon the throne.
"...Yes, Your Majesty."
"Go and notify Schneizel. The two people he wants, send them to him."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Bismarck bowed and left, loyally executing all of Charles zi Britannia's orders.
Leaving Charles zi Britannia alone in the dim, oppressive hall. Under the intense light, his majestic face remained expressionless.
"Make a scene. Make as much of a scene as you want. In the end, everything is but a bubble, everything is false... right? Marianne..."
...
Regene Regetta had been waiting at the entrance of the hall. Once Yang Hui came out, he said nothing and simply followed behind him. They didn't return to his living quarters but headed to a manor outside the palace.
"Are they all there?"
"All of them. However, Mr. Yang Hui, most of them are still just children. I don't believe they can become our strength right now." Regene Regetta was actually quite puzzled. Most of the people Yang Hui had found were eight or nine years old—too young. Even if their future achievements would be great, that was years away. Right now... it made no sense.
"It's precisely because they are young that it's a good opportunity to take control, isn't it?"
"...I see. I've learned something, Mr. Yang Hui."
"Remember, Regene. What we are looking for are not chess pieces, not collaborators, and not subordinates. We are looking for companions—companions who can walk side-by-side with us."
"Yes, Mr. Yang Hui."
Yang Hui's manor outside the palace wasn't far; they arrived in a few minutes. The people who had been "invited" in advance and had learned that Yang Hui returned from the African battlefield were gathered in the drawing room.
"Yo, you're back, little~ Prince Highness."
Just as he entered, he heard a charming and seductive voice. The blonde, tan-skinned Rachelia sat elegantly on the sofa wearing an open lab coat, swirling a smoking pipe in her hand.
"Rachelia? Whether I'm 'little' or not, do you want to try for yourself?" Yang Hui shot back playfully.
"Oh?" Rachelia raised an eyebrow, her tone provocative. "Is that so? It seems the Fourth Highness is quite the man."
Yang Hui walked slowly up to Rachelia, leaned down until they were face-to-face, gently blew hot air into her ear, and said, "I said, do you want to try?"
"You..."
"Hahaha..."
Yang Hui stood up and laughed heartily at the flustered and lost Rachelia. Having several wives already, Yang Hui could tell at a glance that Rachelia was still just a girl who liked to talk big. When it came to actual action, she would probably run as far as she could.
"As expected of Prince Yang Hui, to be able to handle Doctor Rachelia," Gino said as he stood up and bowed to Yang Hui. "It has been a long time, Prince Yang Hui."
"Mhm. Long time no see, Gino. It looks like you've been doing well these past few days."
"Thanks to Your Highness, I have."
"Fourth Prince Highness." The others also stood up one after another to salute Yang Hui. Earlier, Rachelia had taken the initiative to confront Yang Hui, making them lose their chance. Now that the confrontation had ended in Rachelia's total defeat, they naturally didn't forget their manners.
"Don't be so stiff, everyone. You are all guests I invited. However, I'm sure you're very curious as to why I've gathered you all here, right?"
The people present looked at each other and nodded. This was the answer they most urgently wanted. There were children, students from the military academy, active-duty Knights, and a doctor from the Academy of Sciences. With such a group gathered together, what exactly did Yang Hui intend to do?
"I'm sure everyone has heard that I earned a bit of merit on the African battlefield..."
Hearing this, the corners of the mouths of Rachelia, Jeremiah, Villetta, and Joan Roe twitched. The children didn't know the full significance of the merit Yang Hui had achieved in Africa, but they knew very well.
"...So, this return was mainly to receive my reward. I just came back from the palace, and the reward I received... is the privilege to form my own personal special unit."
"What!?"
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