Maximus's voice thundered through the chamber.
"Is it true…? No , It can't be!, Noooo "
His fists trembled, veins bulging along his arms as fury consumed him.
Galvus remained unmoved.
"Well," he said calmly, almost indifferently, "reality can often be disappointing, Your Majesty." He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing, "The boy possesses only the Root Circle. All his other circles are completely sealed. In simple terms… he has no future in the path to spiritual accension ."
Silence fell—heavy, suffocating.
Maximus staggered a step back, his breath uneven.
"What am I supposed to do now?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "He is my only heir… How can he rule an empire if he cannot even manifest spiritual energy?"
Galvus let out a quiet scoff.
"You may try the Holy Church," he said. "Though I doubt they will agree to help, given… the current state of your dynasty's relations with them." His tone sharpened. "I warned you against marrying that woman. And now look at what she has brought upon you."
His voice grew colder and almost mocking with every word.
"She gave you a worthless child. Took your eyes. Ruined centuries-old ties with the Church… and fled the moment her duty was done."
"That disgusting wench."
"ENOUGH!"
The roar shook the chamber.
Maximus clutched his chest, his breathing turning erratic. Marcus rushed to his side, steadying him, and without another word, the two stormed out of the hall.
Everything had happened so fast that Maximillian stood frozen.
Dumbfounded.
"…What the f*ck?"
The curse echoed silently in his mind.
"Am I seriously getting that protagonist treatment?" he thought bitterly. "Hell nah , I did not sign up for this."
While his thoughts spiraled, Galvus's attention slowly shifted toward him.
The old man's gaze was sharp—piercing.
"If you have nothing to say, then you are free to leave , bOyy ."
The message was unmistakable.
Maximillian straightened slightly, forcing a respectful posture despite the storm inside him.
"Oh, Great Hero Galvus," he said, lowering his head just enough, "Protector and Archpreceptor of the Great Valkyros Empire… please, help this child in need by telling him a solution to his problems ."
Hope flickered in his eyes—carefully crafted.
Galvus looked at him for a long moment… then laughed softly.
"Do you truly believe I would help you?" he said. "I did not even aid your father—the Emperor himself. And you expect me to help you?"
His expression hardened.
"A prince who may never even ascend the throne?"
His voice dropped to a final, decisive command.
"Leave, brat."
Maximillian clenched his fists.
Without another word, he turned and walked out.
---
"Who the hell does that fossil think he is?"
The moment he stepped out of the chamber, his thoughts erupted.
"That walking bodyless corpse is already half in his grave, yet he still is here —ruining the lives of future generations…"
His eyes darkened.
"I swear… I'm going to play football with his head "
The thought burned within him as he strode down the corridor.
At the entrance stood Mary, still waiting anxiously.
The moment she saw him, she rushed forward.
"Your Highness! What happened? Why did His Imperial Majesty leave in such haste?"
"Enough," Maximillian cut her off, his voice cold. "I'm not in the mood for questions. Take me to my room."
Mary froze for a moment, then quietly nodded.
"Yes, Your Highness."
She led him through the silent halls. Neither spoke another word.
Once inside his chamber, Maximillian shut the door firmly and locked it.
Finally—
"Ugh… silence."
He let out a long breath, tension slowly leaving his body.
Then his thoughts returned.
"Now what…?"
He began pacing from one corner of the room to the other.
"Am I going to get some kind of golden finger like those protagonists?" he muttered to himself. "A system, a hidden power, a cheat ability… something?"
He stopped, staring at nothing.
"…Let's just hope it arrives soon. Preferably without some twisted condition attached."
He sighed.
"But until then… what am I supposed to do? Sit here? Rot away in loneliness?"
His eyes sharpened.
"No. That's not happening."
He resumed pacing, faster now.
"Galvus… Father called him a hero. But someone like him doesn't become that powerful without stepping on countless others."
His lips curled slightly.
"And judging by his attitude today… he's definitely done things worth hiding."
He stopped again.
"I need to find some dirt on him."
A brief pause.
"But someone like him… he has influence. Power. Enough to treat even the Emperor like a child."
Maximillian's gaze darkened further.
"If he's lived that long, then he must have enemies. People who hate him. People who want him gone."
A faint smile appeared.
"And those people… might be useful."
He crossed his arms, thinking deeply.
"I either find them… or create an opportunity."
Another pause.
"But first—I need information. Everything that's publicly known about him."
His eyes shifted toward the door.
"I have two maids. That's a start."
Then his expression hardened.
"But this has to be done carefully. If that old monster has spies—and I'd bet my life he does—then one wrong move…"
He exhaled slowly.
"…and I'm dead."
Then—
A cold, determined smile spread across his face.
"Just you wait, you fossil…"
"You kicked me out today."
His eyes gleamed with quiet fury.
"I'll make sure that one day… you give an answer to my problems—with that same mouth that kicked me out "
His voice echoed in his mind like a vow.
"Otherwise… I am not Maximillian von Lorrenz of the Great Valkyros Empire."
_________________________________________
Lorrenz, the child of quiet dawns and rising light, was nurtured beneath the grace of fate itself.
In the fertile lands of Mesel, where the winds carried songs of valor, his name began to take root—first as a whisper, then as a promise, and soon… as legend.
He rose not as a king, nor as a chosen one, but as a knight—unyielding and radiant—whose blade was sworn not to glory, but to the people who placed their faith in him.
And for a time, the world seemed gentler under his watch.
But destiny does not linger where hearts grow content.
From the distant hills of Warren came the tolling of fate.
King Warren—last of his line—had fallen to silence, leaving no heir, no blood to claim the ancient throne.
And so, as decreed by lineage and law alike, the burden of the crown fell upon Lorrenz. The only nephew of king warren .
In Mesel, sorrow spread like a fading twilight.
Tears were shed, and prayers whispered—for they knew the light that guarded them would soon depart.
Yet in the highlands of Warren Hills, joy awakened—for a ruler worthy of song was on his way.
Thus, with a heart divided between duty and longing, Lorrenz spoke his final farewells and began his journey toward the throne that awaited him.
And it was upon that path—where fate weaves its quietest threads—that he encountered a boy.
Galvus.
Frailty clung to the child's body, yet within his eyes burned a brilliance unshaken.
Where Lorrenz carried strength, Galvus bore wisdom.
Where one was the blade, the other became the guiding hand.
Together, they walked a road stained with chaos—hunting bandits, breaking tyrants, and restoring peace to lands long abandoned by hope.
Town by town, shadow by shadow, they carved order into a broken world.
Thus it came to be said—
That Lorrenz was the sword that struck,
And Galvus, the mind that saw beyond the strike.
And in their union, a fleeting age of peace was born along the road to Warren.
— from "The Tales of the Emperor Lorrenz"