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A white veil, thin as gauze yet ominous in its advance, had begun to consume the capital, Argentum.

According to Her Majesty, the white veil stretched 3,000 meters high. But for Imperial Princess Oliana, or anyone who had seen it up close, it felt less like a measurement and more like an endless, towering wall reaching into the heavens—oppressive and inescapable.

The «Void Mist»—was it the work of a world-ending atrocious demon, or was it an act of divine intervention? As far as she knew, this calamity had been wrought by a single individual—someone who proclaimed himself as ‘The God.’

However, Her Majesty had dismissed him as nothing more than a deranged fool—a mere human playing pretend as the «Azure God» revered in sacred teachings, treating the world as nothing more than his personal plaything.

Princess Oliana exhaled a slow, weary sigh.

To Oliana, the distinction hardly mattered. Whether a madman or a deity, the result remained unchanged. Her Majesty, standing at a similarly untouchable height, might not grasp this perspective. But for humans, the line between a ‘person’ and a ‘god’ was drawn not by ideology, but by power. The moment one transcended human comprehension, they ceased to be human at all. In the eyes of the powerless, such beings were nothing but monsters.

What could a mere human do against something beyond their power to punish? That was what made them monsters—creatures that answered only to their own will. And humans? The powerless could do nothing but pray. Pray that fate, or perhaps luck, would grant them mercy.

A tyrant who brought harm was a monster—a demon. Yet, the same being would be hailed as a ‘god’ should they become a benefactor instead. In the end, humans could do little but label these beings according to their whims, defining them only by how they affected their fragile existence.

Oliana cast another glance at the creeping «Void Mist», the corners of her lips curling into a wry smile. She recalled one of the so-called monsters—Hiyuki, a being that defied human categorization. Yet, despite her power, the last expression Oliana had seen on her face before their farewell had been utterly human.

“Goodness… I nearly wavered when I saw that abandoned puppy-like expression of hers.”

Oliana’s quiet murmur echoed through the now-empty corridors of the palace. Most of the staff had left during the evacuation, each citing their own reasons. Now, only those bound by duty—the nobles who had served the imperial family for generations, and a few courageous workers—remained.

She had noticed that her meals still carried the same rich flavors she was accustomed to. Perhaps even the palace chef had remained, choosing to fulfill his duty until the very end.

It wasn’t just the chef. Oliana’s gaze drifted toward the courtyard, where she spotted an old gardener perched atop a step-ladder, pruning the trees with the same diligence as always.

This courtyard had been her playground since childhood, and she knew the old gardener well. He had always loved his work, tending to the trees with the same quiet dedication every single day.

‘I never expected him to keep working, even knowing it would soon be meaningless…’ Oliana came to a slow halt, a faint sense of surprise flickering across her face.

Noticing her presence, the old gardener paused, carefully climbing down from his ladder. With a practiced motion, he removed his cap and gave her a respectful bow.

Unconsciously, the tension in her face eased, replaced by a soft, almost nostalgic smile. She hadn’t lived long, but in that moment, she felt a deep, sincere gratitude—not just toward him, but to everyone she had met and those who had supported her thus far.

With that quiet gratitude warming her heart, she turned away from the courtyard and made her way back to the imperial palace.

The Imperial Palace looked as if it had been cursed. Once a place of grandeur and constant activity, it now stood in eerie silence. Oliana’s steps carried her toward the imperial villa, where her father—the Emperor—resided.

“I would like to have a long discussion, just the two of us.”

She had received the summons and arrived at the appointed time. Yet, as she stepped inside the imperial villa, she noticed an unsettling emptiness—there wasn’t a soul in sight. Even the guards, who were supposed to stand watch over the highest authority in the empire, were conspicuously absent.

Though the eerie stillness unsettled her, Oliana maintained her composure, not letting it show on her face. Approaching the door—crafted from northern snow oak, a rare specialty—she knocked, her touch reserved yet firm.

“Your Majesty, this is Oliana. As per your summons, I have come.”
“—The door is open. Come in, Oliana.”

Hearing her father’s familiar, gentle voice, a few of Oliana’s concerns eased.

Ever since the empire’s fate had begun to crumble, the Emperor had not made a public appearance. This absence had fueled rumors, spreading like wildfire among the nobles, and inevitably, to the citizens. The whispers claimed that ‘The Emperor has long fled the empire—and the continent altogether. He is most likely begging for sanctuary in the Archipelago Union.’

Baseless rumors. That was how Oliana had dismissed them. And yet, deep in the recesses of her mind, a lingering doubt remained. ‘What if…?’ With how chaotic things had been, she hadn’t had the chance to confirm the truth for herself.

But as his daughter, she knew his voice beyond any doubt. That familiar presence finally allowed her to release the weight in her chest. “Excuse me,” she murmured before quietly pushing open the door.

“……?”

No sooner had she stepped inside and shut the door behind her than an unfamiliar scene greeted her, catching her off guard.

Contrary to what one might expect from the chambers of the empire’s supreme ruler, the room was startlingly simple. A plain chair. A modest desk. The only out-of-place object was a white canvas positioned in the center of the room. Beyond that, there were no extravagant decorations—no lavish ornaments.

She was no stranger to this room. Seated in the chair was a man she knew well—Valfang VII, the 44th Emperor of the Graviol Empire. A faint, knowing smile graced his lips as he regarded her.

What unsettled her, however, were the two unfamiliar figures seated by the window.

One was a strikingly handsome young man with blonde hair, clad in silver armor with a regal mantle draped over his shoulders. Beside him sat a girl with an air of a magician, dressed in a purple one-piece gown, a wand resting by her side.

Sensing her gaze, the two strangers politely inclined their heads in greeting. But Oliana barely acknowledged them, her focus snapping back to her father.

“You’ve arrived, my little lady. Don’t just stand there—come, have a seat.”

From his seat, Valfang VII gestured toward her, welcoming his daughter inside.

Valfang VII was a man of refined elegance, his lineage apparent in every feature. Much like Archduke Estrada, he exuded an air of sophistication. His chiseled features, narrow eyes, and translucent irises—reminiscent of finely crafted glass—made it clear where Oliana had inherited her beauty.

By Oliana’s estimate, he should have been in his mid-30s. Yet his appearance was closer to that of a man in his early 20s. Perhaps it was because he rarely ventured outside.

“—Hmm? Oh, them? They are acquaintances of mine. I made a rather pressing request of them regarding the current situation, so I allowed them to accompany me. Pay them no mind.”

Valfang VII offered the explanation casually, sensing his daughter’s hesitation. While his words hardly clarified anything, she knew better than to keep the Emperor waiting. Suppressing her doubts, she stepped forward to the center of the room.

“…Excuse me.”

As she moved, Oliana noticed something unusual—her father, typically so reserved, was watching her intently. His normally impassive eyes had softened into a faint smile, as though he were engraving the sight of his daughter into his memory.

“Um… is something the matter?”
“Oh, no, nothing at all. I was simply thinking… You’ve grown into a remarkable young woman. Your features weren’t as striking in childhood, but now that I look at you properly, you truly have the bearing of an empress.”
“Well, I’m not so sure about that. Many people have said I take after you instead.”

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