Chapter 135

Winter (3)

Around the time Grylls’s activities became restricted by the untimely onset of winter, the world outside the Forest of Four Seasons was bustling for various reasons.

The Holy Kingdom and El Dorado were in an uproar over the investigation team and the Immortal King incident.

In Mephisto, the hooligans refused to accept the outcome of the match and were burning everything in sight.

Even the relatively peaceful nations remained active, each for its own reasons.

"Are you the one who presented Us with a fully matured mandrake?"

The man wore an expression that radiated weariness with everything in the world. Yet even that could not conceal his dignity.

His golden hair still shone without having lost its color, and his beard was immaculately groomed.

The very picture of a handsome middle-aged man spoke in an indifferent voice.

Though every conceivable trace of annoyance showed on his face, his solemn bearing was impossible to hide.

"Y-yes! That is correct, Your Majesty."

Count Gorgon, standing opposite him, bowed deeply as he answered.

A short distance away from Count Gorgon stood Arnold, a handsome young man with golden hair, watching the exchange.

"Raise your head. You are practically Our savior."

"I-I am deeply honored, Your Majesty."

"There is no need for that. So, what is it that you desire?"

The middle-aged man who discarded the preamble and went straight to the point was named Robert.

Robert Louis Messiah II, Emperor of the Messiah Empire.

Despite the curious reputation of being an "emperor suited only for domestic affairs," he wielded immense authority.

In truth, being suited for domestic affairs meant possessing outstanding administrative ability—something impossible without tremendous power.

It was precisely because he held such fearsome authority that he had been able to steadily strengthen the foundations of the Messiah Empire.

"Th-this humble servant desires nothing. I am satisfied simply knowing that Your Majesty has recovered your health."

"Is that so? Very well. We shall consider a reward appropriate for you. You may withdraw."

"May Your Majesty enjoy a long and healthy life."

Count Gorgon bowed deeply once more before departing.

His tactful wish for the emperor’s longevity was an added touch, rather than a conventional farewell.

Even at those considerate words, Robert maintained his impassive expression.

Soon, only Robert and Arnold remained in the emperor’s bedchamber.

Robert remained silent for some time, while Arnold stood still and waited for his father to speak.

"...My son."

"Yes, Father."

"You have truly done something unnecessary."

Robert finally spoke amid the heavy silence, his words tinged with reproach.

Arnold flinched and stole a glance at him.

Perhaps lost in thought, Robert merely stared up at the ceiling.

"Thanks to you, my plan has fallen apart."

"What plan... do you mean?"

"..."

Robert did not answer. His attitude made it clear that he did not want to explain.

He then looked at the bewildered Arnold and quietly spoke.

"You said this item came from the Gallery?"

"Yes. That is... correct."

"The Gallery truly has all manner of things. And to think this came from the Forest of Four Seasons..."

Robert stroked his beard as though pondering something deeply, then continued.

"What did you say his name was? Count Golla?"

"Count Gorgon."

"Right, of course. Leave this matter entirely to him. I have something else I must do."

"And what would that be...?"

"I must prepare your succession ceremony."

"..."

Arnold’s eyes widened.

Robert had spoken calmly, but the content of his words was anything but calm.

A succession ceremony meant that the throne would be passed down.

It meant Arnold would soon ascend as emperor.

Arnold was briefly exhilarated that the moment he had long desired was finally approaching, but he soon brought his excitement under control.

His experiences thus far had taught him that excitement could ruin everything.

"I shall have the succession ceremony prepared within a month. Things will become quite busy."

"Father, I am not yet—"

"Even after consuming the mature mandrake, my health is not what it once was. It is becoming difficult for me to endure."

Robert cut Arnold off before he could finish.

Arnold inwardly cheered, but patiently waited for Robert to continue.

"So you must prepare yourself thoroughly as well. Recent developments in the Holy Kingdom are concerning, and Alvenheim’s movements are equally suspicious."

"I will remain vigilant."

"If you overcome these difficulties, you may become an even greater emperor than I."

"That is not true. You have strengthened the very foundations of the empire, Father."

"That was all thanks to Ash."

"Pardon?"

Arnold’s eyes widened, wondering if he had misheard.

"Cough! Cough! Cough!"

Of course, when Robert broke into a violent coughing fit, Arnold’s doubts immediately turned to concern.

Startled, Arnold turned to summon the imperial physician.

Before he could, however, Robert raised a hand to stop him.

"Cough. It is nothing. A minor cough is unavoidable at my age."

"Father..."

"In any event, the empire has no shortage of talented people, so there is no need to worry about internal affairs. If necessary, you can write a letter to the former captain of the Imperial Guard."

There was only one person he could mean by the former captain of the Imperial Guard.

Ash Menethil, the strongest sword in the empire and a warrior who possessed Swordmaster as an official title.

Though he had currently entered a state of partial seclusion, he was someone who would gladly heed Robert’s request.

The emperor had been Ash’s patron and had supported him wholeheartedly, while Ash had repaid that kindness in full.

Someone had flooded the Gallery with invaluable tips, causing the continent’s average combat strength to rise, but that was no cause for concern.

Ash’s reputation alone ensured that no one would dare treat the empire lightly.

"So you need only focus on external affairs. The situation appears to be growing increasingly serious."

"Yes, I understand."

"Then withdraw. I wish to be alone."

"The imperial physician..."

"I shall summon him myself."

"Yes, Father."

Arnold bowed and left the bedchamber, leaving Robert alone.

Robert blinked in silence for a while before eventually releasing a sigh.

Then, with a wistful look unlike any he had shown before, he muttered softly,

"I didn’t want to work..."

It was the grumbling of an office worker exhausted by his job.

And that was not all.

"Why did something like a mature mandrake have to exist...? I was planning to enjoy a comfortable retirement..."

Robert muttered in a voice filled with irritation and weariness toward everything in the world.

Had his health truly deteriorated?

To some extent, yes.

But he was not bedridden to the point that he could barely attend to his duties.

It was closer to malingering—though his act did involve actual poison.

He had consumed a poison that caused symptoms resembling a cold but had no lasting effect on his health.

He had also informed the imperial physician beforehand, allowing them to make his condition appear far more serious than it truly was.

The reason he had gone to such lengths was simple.

He did not want to work.

The position of emperor—or king, for that matter—inevitably came with overwork.

Robert had been unable to escape it either, and in the end, he had resorted to this.

One might say he lacked a sense of responsibility as emperor, but it was not truly a problem.

He had already transferred the entirety of state affairs to his son, Arnold.

Only the succession ceremony remained, yet he had been unable to endure even that long and had taken to his bed.

I only hope El Dorado and Alvenheim don’t start any trouble during the next month.

With several troublesome factions already causing chaos, Robert wanted the succession ceremony completed as quickly as possible.

He would have to work again for that to happen. The mere thought was horrifying.

After briefly growing distressed over all the work awaiting him, Robert looked into the air.

As he did, a window floated into view.

It was the Gallery, which his son Arnold had also recently begun enjoying.

Those were good times.

What had Robert been doing while pretending to be ill—though technically not entirely pretending?

He had been amusing himself on the Gallery.

Even a dignified emperor could not resist a secret indulgence.

In fact, after working so diligently all those years, he had become absorbed in the Gallery as a way of rewarding himself.

I want to live like that too.

Why did he have to be the emperor?

He did not mind the nickname "emperor suited only for domestic affairs," but why did he have to be emperor in the first place?

Why had his father only sired one son?

All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind.

While browsing the Gallery, Robert found a post by someone who had recently gained considerable fame.

Title: The fast sloth is zoning out by the fire

Wild Grylls

(The fast sloth staring into the fire)

This little bastard was zoning out in front of the fire, so I tried to pull him away, but he wouldn’t budge.

Even when I forcibly dragged him away, he went straight back. Some of his fur has already been singed, but he’s still doing this. LOL

└ Heavenly Demon: Strangely adorable. It seems to understand how precious warmth is.

└ SwordMaster: The fast sloth has an unexpectedly cute side to it.

└ Starlight Princess: Is Wonmo there too? I want to see him.

└ Wild Grylls:(Wonmo sleeping curled into a ball) Here he is.

└ He’s seriously adorable every time I see him. LOL

└ Isn’t he waking up? Is he actually hibernating?

Wild Grylls was said to have fallen into the Forest of Four Seasons.

His daily records had recently become Robert’s favorite reading material.

Robert wanted nothing from Grylls. As emperor, he already possessed everything a man could have.

I’m strangely envious.

He was simply envious of the life Grylls was currently living.

It was not entirely raw survival, since he received bits of support here and there, but he was still living in the wilderness.

Robert wanted to live that way too.

He wanted to build an oven, hunt, and catch fish.

He finally understood why people wanted to take up farming as they grew older. After living such a busy life, they began to yearn for freedom.

Not absolute freedom, but freedom earned through one’s own efforts—a life where every action produced a direct result.

Now that Robert had entered middle age, reading Grylls’s posts only intensified that desire.

It would be nice if my safety could be guaranteed...

Of course, Grylls’s objective was survival and escape, not simply enjoying life in the wilderness.

Robert, on the other hand, wanted the wilderness lifestyle without any of the danger.

Whenever Grylls found himself in peril, Robert nearly had a heart attack.

I suppose I’ll have to settle for living vicariously through him.

For that to happen, Grylls could not die.

The Gallery was perfect for filling the loneliness of his life.

And so Robert made his decision.

In another month, he would be free from the burden of being emperor.

Until then, he would provide Grylls with whatever support he could.

First, I need to create a registered username...

A short while later, Robert came up with:

[AbsolutezZoneRobertIsAwesome]

"Heh-heh."

It was a username that perfectly demonstrated that the apple did not fall far from the tree.

His son already used the same name, which only made it better.

Chuckling to himself, Robert tried to register it.

[This username has already been registered.]

Robert was momentarily speechless.

Someone is actually using an idiotic fucking username like this?

His son was.

****

The fast sloth had caused me plenty of trouble by staring into the fire all day, but I had decided to let it go.

No matter how much I struggled with him, I was the only one who suffered.

It was better to leave him alone.

Surely the fast sloth would move away from the campfire eventually.

That was what I told myself.

Whoooooosh!!!

Regardless, the blizzard was still raging outside.

Part of me wanted to pull aside the flapping cloth and take a look, but I restrained myself.

If I did that and the cloth tore free from its fastenings, it would be a disaster.

In the end, I had no choice but to remain inside the cave all day.

Considering that it had rained yesterday, I had effectively spent nearly two days trapped inside.

What would I have done if I hadn’t smoked the meat?

I ate smoked meat for dinner, while the fast sloth ate one of the inner cores I had stored away.

Weather this goddamned awful might continue, so I would probably have to go hunting again soon.

If that proved impossible, I would have to rely on fish.

Whatever I caught, smoking it would be essential.

If the blizzard stops tomorrow, I’m going to have a rough time.

Just how much snow would accumulate?

I was a little worried.

To bring the day to a close, I added more firewood to the campfire.

Ordinarily, one person would have to remain awake to keep it burning, but that was difficult in my current situation.

All I could do was pile on as much firewood as possible.

Isn’t there some kind of device that can automatically feed firewood into a fire?

Something like that would be perfect.

I went to sleep and brought the day to an end.

And then the next morning arrived.

"...You still haven’t slept?"

The campfire was still blazing.

And, of course, the fast sloth was still sitting in front of it.

Had this little guy actually been adding firewood throughout the night?

I was dumbfounded.

Still, thanks to him, I stayed warm.

The cloth was no longer flapping, so it seemed the blizzard had stopped sometime during the night.

I pushed against the curtain to check the situation outside.

It stopped dead.

"Huh?"

Something was wrong.

Why would the curtain not move?

I had even removed the stones holding it in place, yet something was clearly amiss.

For a moment, I wondered if the curtain itself had frozen solid, but that was not it.

When I pulled it backward instead of pushing it out, it came away without resistance.

"...What the hell is this?"

Behind the curtain was a pure white wall.

At first, I had no idea what I was looking at, but it did not take long for me to realize the truth.

"Oh."

It was all snow.

Snow that had been compressed into a solid mass.

Just how much snow had fallen for it to block the entire cave entrance?

I was utterly bewildered.

But there was an even greater problem—one directly related to my survival.

How am I supposed to clear all of this?

As though having garbage fall from the sky were not bad enough—

Bam! Bang!

"Aaaaaaargh!!!"

—it also taught me just how precious time was.

I furiously "mined" through the snow with my pickaxe as I shouted,

"Someone’s in here!!!"

I was beginning to hate winter.

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