The Empror's Trap

The envoy wasted no time. After receiving Kenji's letter and confirming that both Camelot Emperor and Duke Anos shared the same stance, he hastily took his leave and departed from the Spring Peace Palace.

Kenji had no intention of hiding this from Pluvia. The movement of the Great Western Kingdom's envoys in the imperial court was no secret—the palace belonged to the Emperor, who monitored every entry and exit.

Yet the envoy's urgency made it clear: delay was unbearable. Each passing moment weighed on his mind like a torment. Kenji thus drafted the letter immediately and personally reported to Pluvia's study.

She understood his actions, given that he now oversaw all western border affairs.

"Oh, take this. Use it to command the Red Kite Army."

Pluvia said, retrieving a black token engraved with golden patterns from a drawer beneath her desk and handing it to him.

Kenji examined the token. Its jagged edges formed a complex mortise-and-tenon structure, nearly impossible to replicate. He noted artificial meridians etched into its surface—dormant now, but likely activated when paired with the matching half held by the Red Kite Army's general.

As one of Pluvia's elite forces, the Red Kite Army's command protocols were clearly kept under her iron grip.

"This campaign against Samanjiang, remember: our goal is to expel the Church's influence from neighboring states. Do not focus solely on seizing cities—eradicate their presence entirely."

"Understood, Your Majesty. I will not fail you."

"When do you depart?" she asked.

"The vanguard leaves today. The main force will follow in three days."

"Three days…" She paused, then added, "The west is dry and bitterly cold this season. Take care of yourself. If you fall ill, the front will collapse—and the repercussions at home will be worse."

"Thank you for your concern. I'll be cautious. Your Majesty, please remain vigilant as well. With me gone, certain factions may stir. Consult Chancellor Long for political matters. For military affairs, I've left several reliable officers in the City. If even General Balinos and Chancellor Long cannot resolve an issue, they will assist you."

To prevent another coup, Kenji had stationed trusted young officers in Luminara with several thousand troops under their command.

A veteran steward, ostensibly just a servant, had also been left behind. Once a retainer of the late Duke Anos, he could handle most crises at court.

General Balinos had been left behind as well. His presence ensured stability among the ministers, and Kenji wanted to give younger officers like Satellite a chance to prove themselves. Balinos' reputation was already formidable—too much more glory might overshadow Kenji himself.

"I hear you're bringing Lina and Siyue with you?" She leaned back lazily, stretching.

Kenji had anticipated the question. "Yes. I'll need a bodyguard, and Lina was upset last time I left her behind. This time, I must take her. Don't worry—Deputy Head of the Gray Scales Division will remain under your command."

"It's not Lina I'm concerned about. It's Siyue." Pluvia sighed. "She's never traveled far, and the front is dangerous."

"She insisted on coming. Her condition improves only when she's near me. Last time, our absence was brief, but this campaign will last months."

Kenji's explanation was diplomatic.

The truth? If left alone for months without Lina's support, Siyue's severe social anxiety might spiral into isolation.

Moreover, Kenji needed her strategic insights. In the chaos of war, her focus might even ease her fears. And as siblings, their debates—though heated—would resolve quickly, avoiding command conflicts.

"Very well. You two have always been close. She'll keep you company."

Pluvia straightened. "Your father won countless victories for the late Emperor. Though your achievements haven't yet matched his, I believe you'll surpass him. But remember—survive first. No heroics."

"I will not disappoint you."

Kenji wasn't sure if her words were sincere, but they were kind enough.

"After you return, we'll need to settle certain matters. Whatever your answer may be, I hope we can give each other clarity."

She meant the marriage, of course. Her tone was as detached as discussing state policy.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

What else could he say?

"I'll see you off with the court officials on the day of departure. Supplies are arranged—the autumn harvest's grain will be tallied soon. If you run short, send word. Don't worry about the rear."

"Also, about your proposal to educate the people—now that the harvest is done, I'll begin trials in Hexi County, starting with the disaster-stricken areas. What do you think?"

"They've just recovered from famine. They may lack the will for schooling…"

"I have my methods."

Pluvia winked—a rare, playful gesture.

The road west was unbearably monotonous.

This was literally true—physically monotonous. Though Kenji's ancestral home was also dry, it paled in comparison to the arid expanse of Camelot's western frontier.

"Young Master, I told you to drink more water," Lina chided, using a damp cloth to wipe blood from under his nose as the army set up camp for the night.

The air here was unimaginably dry. Kenji had been poring over maps in the carriage all day, neglecting to hydrate or moisturize his skin and nasal passages. The result? A sudden, heavy nosebleed.

Leaning against Lina, Kenji stared at the bloodstained towel in her hand and sighed. "If I'm not mistaken, Samanjiang's climate is about the same as this?"

"Samanjiang's a bit better. They have more rivers and a few lakes. It's not as harsh as this place," Siyue said, stepping out of the carriage to survey the bustling camp.

She'd been smarter about it—periodically soaking a towel to keep her face and nose moist.

The army's pace was brisk. Camelot had long maintained well-paved imperial roads, flat and wide, accelerating their march.

As Lina pressed the damp cloth to his face, Kenji stole a glance at his map.

"This campaign won't be easy. We might have to chew through a lot of tough resistance," he muttered, the towel muffling his voice. "The Holy Church will likely throw expendable forces at us. We can handle small fry, but it'll slow our advance."

Historically, Camelot's wars against neighboring states weren't evenly matched—they were one-sided. With its strict military system and vast war potential, Camelot could even fight two near-equal powers simultaneously when pushed to the brink.

But that required desperation. Even the late emperor's famed "campaigns in all directions" weren't Camelot's true limit.