In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

With the coronation concluded, a storm of war swept across the continent.

Tension filled the air, and each sovereign hastened home to prepare for battle. They returned flying their own banners, intent on personally leading their armies—not out of obligation, but to secure greater political and territorial gains from the conflict.

Emperor Oswald of the Pamir Empire also reluctantly departed the Xerx royal capital after pressure from his advisors became impossible to ignore.

But the decision for monarchs to march into battle wasn't taken lightly.

Setting foot upon the bloodstained soil of the battlefield meant far more than personal valor. A ruler's presence at the front lines could solidify loyalty and rally their troops in ways that mere orders from behind a desk never could.

This wasn't some border skirmish.

The war at hand threatened to topple the continental order that had endured for over a century. It signaled the collapse of a carefully maintained balance of power.

For these reasons, sovereigns were choosing to lead personally—not just for victory, but to strengthen their positions in post-war negotiations.

Because in this war, victory wasn't simply about numbers or tactics.

It was about how swiftly and deeply one could push into the Holy Nation's capital—and how much they could gain before the dust settled.

The air in Xerx Castle had grown crisp with the arrival of autumn.

The clatter of hooves and the clang of heavy armor echoed through the streets as kings and their entourages departed for their homelands, leaving the royal court quieter than it had been in weeks.

And yet, Emperor Sigmund of Celeste remained.

He showed no signs of preparing to leave.

Instead, his focus was entirely fixed on one woman: Elizabeth.

Now formally recognized as a princess of the Kingdom of Xerx, Elizabeth had become the object of the emperor's full attention—and no effort was spared in trying to win her favor.

Trailing behind Sigmund, his knight commander James could only sweat nervously.

James had already repeated the same thought dozens of times in his head: We should leave. The emperor needs to return and prepare for war.

But he still hadn't dared speak it aloud.

This wasn't like Sigmund at all. Normally, he would have been the first to ride back and whip his knights into order. Instead, here he was… lingering.

Eventually, James could hold back no longer.

He approached with a respectful bow and spoke cautiously, "Your Majesty… might it be time to return and prepare for the campaign?"

But Sigmund only offered a faint, enigmatic smile.

That terrified James more than outright fury.

What is he thinking? James thought, internally withering under pressure.

Then came a sudden question.

"James, tell me—what sort of men serve under my command?"

Caught off guard, James straightened up, his heart racing.

What is he planning now? Why the sudden question?

After a moment's hesitation, James gave what he believed to be the safest answer.

"The finest knights on the continent, Your Majesty. The strongest and most disciplined of warriors."

As expected, Sigmund's smile deepened. To most, it might have seemed dazzling.

To James, it looked like the grin of a devil.

"Exactly. So do you think such men would fail to make proper preparations just because I'm not standing over them?"

A cold shiver ran down James's spine.

One wrong word now, and he might never see his beloved wife and children again.

"N-no, of course not, Your Majesty. But the war with the Holy Nation… it is a serious matter, and I thought…"

Sigmund gave a soft, mocking laugh.

And this man leads my personal guard? How pitiful.

For a brief second, he considered executing James on the spot—but relented. The man's family had served loyally for generations, and James himself had earned his place through hardship.

Instead, Sigmund let out a sigh and shook his head, offering one final chance.

"If we defeat the Holy Nation," he asked, "what do you suppose we gain?"

James hesitated. What could Celeste gain from this war?

Territory? No. The Holy Nation was an isolated island kingdom—not easily colonized, despite its fertile land.

Wealth? Certainly, the Holy Nation had treasure, passed down through generations… but Celeste was already one of the richest empires on the continent.

Unlike the Pamir Empire, which wielded sheer size and manpower, Celeste's strength came from its unfathomable wealth.

And besides, this wasn't a solo venture. Any plunder would be shared among the allied nations.

So what was left?

After wringing his thoughts dry, James's eyes lit up.

Of course. Don't think about the spoils—think about why this war was started in the first place.

"…Legitimacy," he said finally. "A righteous cause."

Sigmund's smile returned.

Even a rock can roll downhill eventually.

"Yes. What we gain is justification. We bring down the Holy Nation in the name of peace, and in doing so, we solidify our role as guardians of the continent's balance. In that context—why should I risk my own neck, riding into war?"

James nodded slowly. The emperor's logic was starting to make sense.

But…

"But, Your Majesty… if that's the case, why are the other nations going to such lengths—dispatching knights and personally leading their troops?"

Sigmund's gaze drifted toward the distant sky. A sigh slipped from his lips.

Stubborn stone... always rolling in the wrong direction.

"Do you really think their scale compares to ours, James? They're all scrambling to snatch whatever scraps fall from the Holy Nation's collapse."

James's jaw dropped in realization.

Ah… so that's what this is about.

Still, something didn't quite add up.

"Then, Your Majesty… why are you still here? Your alliance with Prince Michael has already been solidified. Wouldn't it be time to return and begin your own preparations?"

Sigmund looked down at James's bowed head in disbelief.

How is someone this dense already married? he wondered.

"What do you think is the most important task for me right now?"

James sighed inwardly.

If you're going to tell me, just tell me. Why ask riddles? You know I'm not smart enough for this…

After a long moment of silence, James gave up trying to guess and defaulted to the safest option: flattery.

"Well… now that Your Majesty has achieved so much, perhaps securing the empire's internal stability is what matters most?"

By sheer luck, he had landed on the correct answer.

Sigmund gave a wry smirk.

"Exactly. And to stabilize the empire, what must I do first? I must take a proper empress—and secure an heir."

James's mouth fell open again.

A certain princess's face floated into his mind. He recalled her fiery spirit the first time she met the emperor by the lakeside.

So that was it. The shift in Sigmund's behavior these past few days suddenly made perfect sense.

Is that why he's been lingering around the palace, subtly clashing with Emperor Oswald?

Thinking of the arrogant ruler of the sprawling Pamir Empire, James nearly scoffed aloud.

If this was truly the reason, then it was welcome news indeed. The entire empire—every noble and commoner—would rejoice if Sigmund married her.

Without realizing it, James began nodding vigorously, a wide grin spreading across his face.

He thought back to the way Sigmund looked at Elizabeth—full of admiration and quiet longing. Even the smallest thing she said left a flicker of emotion across his face.

Then why hasn't he made a move yet?

As emperor, Sigmund had every right to send an official delegation and propose marriage formally. It was a political act as much as a personal one.

Now that Elizabeth was a recognized royal, their union would strengthen alliances and shift the balance of power across the continent.

Waiting any longer was risky.

What if Pamir beat them to the proposal?

James nervously licked his dry lips, his fidgeting hands betraying his growing urgency.

Finally, he couldn't hold back.

"Then, perhaps Your Majesty should entrust the matter to a trusted elder—someone who could respectfully begin marriage negotiations on your behalf?"

Sigmund slowly shook his head.

"In times of war, proposing marriage is ill-timed. It would be better to wait until victory is assured."

His voice turned quiet as he remembered Elizabeth's composed, distant expression.

He knew her well enough by now to be sure: she would never accept a proposal she didn't truly support. Without a clear cause, a shared future, she wouldn't say yes.

"I'm not worried," he added with a faint, almost bashful smile. "While the others march off to war… I'll win her heart."

James stared, dumbfounded.

Dear heavens, this madman is blushing again!

Elsewhere in the palace, Michael and Astrid sat by the window, discussing the growing tensions with the Holy Nation and the internal politics of Lania.

"The emperor seems… conflicted," Astrid noted gently.

"Fortunately, we didn't need to go through all that drama to get engaged," Michael replied with a warm smile.

Astrid's cheeks flushed.

"I only hope Princess Elizabeth truly wants this match. If she's pressured into it, it could lead to unhappiness."

At her concern, Michael chuckled softly.

"If my sister agrees to a marriage, it won't be because of pressure. She'll have already made up her mind—and once she does, she'll handle it better than anyone."

Astrid nodded, visibly reassured.

"You're right. In the end, it's up to her."

Then she quickly shifted gears. It was time to address a more pressing matter.

"What about the newly appointed nobles? Are we really not going to grant them fiefs?"

During the coronation, many retainers were honored with titles. Yet, not one of them had been awarded a proper landholding.

Astrid worried this might sow discontent among the nobility.

Michael, however, shook his head.

"That won't happen. They've all agreed to the terms. And truthfully, I hope Lania will adopt the same approach."

Her brows furrowed with concern.

They had discussed this in passing before, but now that their marriage—and the unification of their kingdoms—was on the horizon, a more serious conversation was necessary.

Michael set down his teacup and looked her in the eye.

He could see her unease.

Feudal lords had grown powerful by ruling over their own domains for generations. Asking them to accept a centralized system of governance now? It would not be easy.

Still, Michael's gaze did not waver.

His voice was firm.

"Feudalism is outdated. It's a system that can no longer sustain itself."