Gideon nervously clenched and unclenched his fists before forcing out the words.

“Your Highness. Even a low-ranking knight’s marriage isn’t arranged so arbitrarily. This treatment is too insulting…”

The Emperor had suddenly ordered someone with a strange family background, appearance, and character to be paired with Dante. As a knight overflowing with loyalty, it was natural for him to feel his lord had been insulted.

“Gideon, I’m not a low-ranking knight.”

Dante rubbed his handsome eyebrow and smiled bitterly.

“My uncle hates me. He has no reason to insult an ordinary low-ranking knight, but he has countless reasons to want to insult me.”

“Your Highness…”

It was a comical situation where only the subordinate looked upset while the person directly involved remained calm.

Dante spoke calmly.

“This marriage is a method he devised after much deliberation to torment me. He believes I’ll treat my wife coldly. Be rude to her, become angry. He’s probably eagerly waiting for news that I’ve locked her away somewhere like in the Sodel viscounty.”

He slowly caressed the eyepatch covering his left eye.

“…Because he desperately wants me to abandon my humanity and tarnish my own reputation.”

Dante Leodinas’s great reputation was a thorn under the Emperor’s nail, a speck in his eye.

The problem was that to prevent Dante from building his reputation, the Emperor would need to stop sending him to hunt demonic beasts, which he simply couldn’t do.

Since awakening his divine sight, Dante had traveled throughout the empire slaughtering demonic beasts. The Emperor had deliberately sent the young Dante into dangerous situations, but somehow he always returned alive. As the saying goes, ‘Pain that doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger’—he grew increasingly powerful and experienced.

Time flowed like water, and fifteen years passed in the blink of an eye. Dante became a hero, and Ramsieda, who had shared life and death with him all those years, became a legendary sword.

The legendary sword Ramsieda had slain countless demonic beasts over that long period, becoming so saturated with their bl＊＊d that the blade turned pitch black. It absorbed all surrounding light in an instant, ultimately declaring death with its thorough darkness.

Lower-ranked demonic beasts would instinctively cower in fear just from facing Ramsieda.

‘Things won’t go as my uncle wishes.’

Dante steeled his resolve.

He had now become an irreplaceable resource. No one in the empire could hunt demonic beasts as effectively as him—Dante Leodinas.

Dante’s methods were effective and ruthless, and above all, they minimized casualties—whether property damage or human lives.

Because of this, whenever demonic beasts appeared in their territories, nobles would desperately call Dante’s name before anything else.

And the Emperor grew increasingly tormented. He couldn’t simply eliminate Dante because he needed to guarantee the interests of the nobles who supported him. He was forced to coexist with the thorn deeply embedded under his nail, suffering as the wound festered and rotted.

Thinking about this fact made Dante feel slightly better.

“If that’s what he wants, I’ll do the exact opposite. I’ll respect my wife, give her affection, and protect her. They say her personality is strange, but even a normal person would lose their mind if abandoned by their parents and locked away for over a decade. If she can come here, receive proper treatment, and live a stable life, it would be good for her too.”

The Emperor had very painfully accepted, over several years, that he couldn’t eliminate Dante and shouldn’t do so recklessly.

But accepting that fact didn’t mean he would leave him alone.

He simply changed his method of punishment.

Since he couldn’t physically harm his capable nephew, he chose to mentally torment him to death.

“If news reaches the palace that I’m getting along well with my wife, neither particularly unhappy nor showing the depths of my inhumanity, my uncle will probably be so angry he’ll fall over backward.”

The corners of Dante’s mouth curved deeply with a hint of a smile.

The Emperor was a man who went mad when things didn’t go according to his plan.

“No matter how much punishment he wants to give, if I don’t consider it punishment, then it isn’t punishment.”

“…!”

Gideon’s eyes widened to the size of saucers upon hearing Dante’s words. In an instant, the darkness before him brightened, and it seemed as if dawn was breaking in the distance.

Goodness gracious. Look at this composure, this strategy! Indeed, his lord was worthy of the heroic reputation he bore!

Dante drove home his final point.

“From this moment on, I’ve decided to see only the positive aspects of this marriage. Gideon, I hope you’ll do the same.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Gideon’s voice was exceptionally resonant, thanks to the military discipline that had suddenly filled his lungs. It was a disciplined shout like that of a newly transferred recruit.

⁕⁕⁕

The Sodel viscounty submitted a petition to the Emperor’s edict.

The messenger presented a letter on a shining silver tray before the Emperor. His expression remained as impassive as ever, but inwardly he was trembling.

The reason being that Jacone Sodel had requested this letter be delivered with a deathly expression, and when asked why, he had said, ‘I will politely ask His Majesty to postpone this marriage.’

Even now, recalling that moment left him dumbfounded. He had wanted to grab Jacone by the shoulders and shake him vigorously.

‘When gold falls from the sky, just pick it up!’

Those crazy fools… The messenger inwardly screamed.

He didn’t care if the Emperor’s wrath fell upon the Sodel viscounty for failing to understand their place. The problem was that he himself was in danger of being caught in the crossfire because of these lunatics who couldn’t recognize a good thing when they saw it.

‘Me, who’s done nothing wrong! Me, who’s faithfully performed his duties!’

Why such misfortune!

Aaagh. At this point, it wasn’t just a spark but an enormous flaming meteor.

Emperor Gheorghe was already thoroughly irritated. He made no attempt to hide his blazing displeasure, like a powder keg ready to explode at the slightest touch. He frowned as he broke the seal and began reading Jacone’s letter.

The messenger’s back gradually became damp with sweat.

In truth, he had wanted to open and check the letter first.

He wanted to see if it contained expressions that might extremely provoke the already sensitive Emperor, and what reason they could possibly have for kicking away the good fortune that had walked right into their home. And if this was some new method of s＊icide, he could understand, but couldn’t they consider the position of an innocent messenger caught up in it all?

But the letter was so securely sealed with wax bearing an imprint that he couldn’t possibly tamper with it. If he had, the fragile paper would certainly have torn in half.

After a moment that felt like a year, the Emperor finally put down the letter.

“Whew…”

The messenger envisioned himself retiring.

His youngest was only in the first year of the academy—how would he pay the tuition fees now?

He also thought of his wife, who had started making lace as a side job because she wanted to add fur lining to make some warm winter clothes for their daughter who was soon to be married.

Oh, please. No.

“Hahaha! Kahahah!”

The Emperor burst into hearty laughter as if his earlier frown had been a complete act. His laughter was so loud that even the messenger, who should never raise his head, was startled into looking up before quickly lowering it again.

Gheorghe laughed to his heart’s content. Absolutely to his heart’s content.

“The Sodel viscounty is truly entertaining!”

When the Emperor said “entertaining,” it meant “exactly to my liking.” By now, the messenger was genuinely curious about the letter’s contents.

Gaining someone’s favor by obeying their orders is one thing, but gaining favor while disobeying is doubly difficult. Yet somehow, the Sodel viscounty people, whom he had considered a gathering of born fools, had managed it.

The messenger continued bowing his head, hiding his confused thoughts.

Fine. Let’s not be curious. Regardless of the reason, what matters is that he wasn’t fired.

Meanwhile, Gheorghe was savoring the satisfaction welling up inside him.

‘This is clearly a country bumpkin. Even more so than I’d heard.’

He could vividly imagine Jacone Sodel trembling like a goat caught in a cold wind as he wrote the letter.

It’s often said that a person’s handwriting reveals their character. Jacone’s handwriting exuded worthless servility and a timid nature.

Seeing him prostrate himself so readily was simply amusing. Even his dissatisfaction at the audacity to refuse melted away like snow.

To think that Dante’s in-laws would be so servile and vulgar!

‘Hahaha, that fellow always acted as if his eyes were stuck to the top of his head…’

The only flaw was not being able to see Dante’s expression firsthand when he received the humiliating marriage order.

The Emperor grinned as he spread out the letter.

Jacone was pleading to the “Great Emperor” in his uneven handwriting, doing his best.