Chapter 99: The Emperor’s Medal (1)

“Are you Prince Yuri Briol? Please, could you sign here…?”

“The interview was truly moving.”

“Please look this way.”

Yuri advanced through the crowd, greeting the citizens of the imperial capital one by one.

Thanks to the article and interview in the Imperial Daily Magazine, his popularity skyrocketed like never before.

Even Got suddenly became a celebrity, and although he came from an old noble lineage, support began to pour in from all directions.

Yuri muttered,

“But this is no time to worry about trivial matters like these.”

He had come to the Empire to prevent war. And now, the moment to act seriously was approaching.

Yuri glanced at the letter he held in his hand. It bore the official seal of the emperor.

All the countries that had participated in the allied army had already arrived in the imperial capital, and the emperor had announced his intention to host an official banquet at the palace to honor their service.

That’s why Yuri, along with Briol’s knights, was now heading to the tailor’s shop. He and Laurent would have no problem, but the rest were clearly inexperienced in these matters.

When Yuri opened the door and entered, the tailor bowed.

“Thank you for visiting us.”

Inside the workshop, all kinds of fabrics and patterns hung from the walls. At a glance, everything was of the highest quality.

Simon and Guinness, also nobles, showed little reaction, but Jared wandered through the prices with his mouth agape. When he saw the tag on one of the garments displayed on a mannequin, his hand trembled.

“Don’t worry. I’ll buy it for you.”

“Your Highness… With that price we could buy a lot of stew dishes…”

“How many, exactly?”

“Well… um…”

Ignoring Jared, Yuri addressed the tailor.

“We’ll wear these to His Majesty’s banquet. Could you handle all the fitting?”

“Of course.”

The tailor wore a monocle. His gaze moved from Yuri to Laurent, then from Laurent to Jared, and so on, one by one. His pupils trembled.

He was already visualizing all the patterns in his mind.

He was one of the most renowned tailors in the Empire. His schedule was so packed that an ordinary person couldn’t even book him, but thanks to Vlad’s recommendation from the temple, he had agreed to see Yuri.

Yuri thought it was true what they said in the Empire—connections were everything.

“Decent product.”

The tailor suddenly spoke, pointing to Simon, Guinness, and Jared. Then he gestured toward Hernando.

“Refined product.”

Hernando shrugged.

Finally, the monocle turned to Yuri and Laurent. The corners of his lips curled upward.

“Masterpiece.”

Yuri realized then that this was no ordinary tailor. He was an artist with his own world.

That kind of person often did incomprehensible things to ordinary folks.

“I already have it in mind.”

The tailor had finished the designs in his head. Yuri applauded. He respected experts, whatever their field.

“Incredible. You already visualized it all?”

“This is my job, after all.”

“Amazing. When will they be ready?”

“Considering the time left before the banquet… we’re quite tight on schedule…”

The tailor adjusted his tie and bowed respectfully to Yuri.

“But if it’s for the third prince of Briol, I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you.”

“It must be a mission entrusted by God.”

He was a devoted believer.

The temple sometimes became a place for socializing. Not only tailors, but many influential figures in the Empire strengthened their connections there.

Yuri had been able to access this tailor thanks to that network.

“Alright, let’s take measurements.”

At a nod from his chin, the tailor’s staff stepped forward and began measuring each of them with tape. Yuri was measured personally by the tailor.

They took and recorded every part of the body meticulously. They already had a rough estimate.

“Once they’re ready, I’ll send them to the hotel.”

“Thank you.”

Yuri shook the tailor’s hand and left the shop.

But his schedule wasn’t over yet. Leading the group, he now headed to a nearby barbershop.

The barber, who sported an elegant mustache, was already waiting for them.

“We were expecting you. You’ll be treated as you deserve.”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

After ordering the suits, it was time for hair. One by one, the members of Yuri’s group sat in the chairs.

“It’s an honor to have His Highness in my chair.”

The barbershop owner smiled while trimming Yuri’s hair. He had such a reputation that he had already worked on the hair of many nobles.

“What beautiful black hair. How would you like it cut?”

“My hair…”

Yuri smiled mischievously and showed the typical whim of a prince.

“Just trim it a bit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, slip of the tongue…”

He had accidentally used a formal tone. Yuri coughed.

“Well, you know what I mean, right?”

“Of course.”

The barber seemed confident. He had heard that phrase from male clients countless times.

“Just a little trim” or “Just tidy it up.”

And there was no request more difficult than that.

If he had been any ordinary barber, he might’ve laughed and thought another naive customer had walked in.

But he never did that. He was a true craftsman who poured his soul even into a single snip of the scissors.

That’s why, every time he received such a request, he worked even harder.

“I’ll show you what ‘just a trim’ really means.”

Thus, the haircut was finished, and Yuri’s group left the barbershop with shiny, polished hair.

They had only tidied up their hair, and yet, the atmosphere around them had changed completely.

When a group of well-groomed men walked out together, the gazes of passersby turned toward them.

“Your Highness, is that all?”

Simon asked. His voice revealed a desire he couldn’t hide. He wanted more.

He wanted to look even better. That was the feeling that consumed him.

Having improved his appearance considerably thanks to Yuri, Simon now understood the power of style and was filled with a desire to become even more attractive.

And of course, Yuri did not disappoint his expectations.

“There’s still one more thing.”

“Oh! And what could that be…?”

“Of course, a facial treatment.”

“Eh…?”

Simon and the others swallowed hard. The tension was palpable.

They were men who had weathered their skin in the sun, wielding swords without end. They thought that sort of care wasn’t for knights.

But Yuri wasn’t trapped by those kinds of prejudices. In his past life, he had accompanied Yekaterina to all sorts of facial care centers, so he knew perfectly well the benefits of such treatments.

“T-that’s a bit…”

“Facial treatment…? That’s…”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate…”

“Fools.”

Yuri kept walking with firm steps. Before him stood a facial care center with an adorable pink sign.

“Once you try it, you’ll change your mind.”

Yuri opened the door.

Since they already had a reservation, as soon as he entered, all the estheticians bowed respectfully.

The specialists quickly inspected the skin condition of the group following Yuri. There were loud crackles as they stretched their hands and prepared.

“It won’t be easy, but I leave them to you.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Don’t worry.”

The center’s owner was brimming with enthusiasm.

“These knights of Briol will be the stars of the banquet. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

The gates of the imperial palace, which rarely opened, were finally opened. The largest and most majestic building on the continent was, without a doubt, the palace where the emperor resided.

The imperial palace was so splendid and dynamic that it seemed to embody the grandeur of the Empire itself.

Sculptures so detailed they almost looked alive adorned every wall, and in every corner with metallic details, there were gold leaf sheets carefully applied.

The red curtains, which only the emperor was allowed to use, fluttered everywhere.

The first country to appear was Liberta. The guard at the entrance blew a horn to announce their arrival.

“Hm…”

Sven Gain, entering the banquet hall following his father, Wolf Gain, frowned the moment he crossed the threshold.

Everything was so bright that his eyes needed time to adjust.

The hanging chandelier on the ceiling was the most impressive. It was so massive it could fill an entire room, and its many lights shone intensely.

The glow reflected again and again across its surface.

“Ah…”

An endlessly long table occupied the center of the hall, with golden candelabras aligned along it. Though not many people had arrived yet, an orchestra was already playing in one corner of the hall.

Faced with the spectacle of such a luxurious banquet hall, Sven was speechless for a moment.

The imperial city had already impressed him, but the interior of the palace was even more dazzling.

“This is the Empire…”

Sven murmured, and Wolf nodded.

“Yes. Can you feel the Empire’s power?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you must always be cautious.”

Liberta’s delegation, led by Wolf, took their seats in a spot slightly away from the center of the hall.

Little by little, the other guests began arriving. The nobles of the Empire also entered one after another.

To Sven, most were lords of regions he had never even heard of, but all were dressed with such extravagance it seemed they were competing to show off their wealth.

In the Empire, even a simple feudal lord seemed richer than any king.

Sven felt a bit self-conscious, but seeing his father’s firm posture beside him, he tried to sit up straighter.

“Ah, they’re here from the Principality of Klein.”

As the land of origin of many perfumes, a floral fragrance filled the air the moment they appeared.

Just like what had happened with Sven, at first they stopped in awe of the hall’s scale, then began looking for a seat while glancing around.

Meanwhile, the servants brought light appetizers. Sven picked one at random and was surprised by its flavor when he tried it.

“They use rare spices like it’s nothing…”

Wolf murmured.

Sven looked toward the front of the hall, where red curtains hung. Behind them was surely the throne where the emperor would sit.

He couldn’t imagine how grand it must be. He thought—if an Empire with such vast power truly started a war, how long could the other countries hold out?

Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. Then, the horn sounded again.

Familiar faces began to appear. They were all people Sven had seen at least once during the alliance campaign.

“The Holy Kingdom and Brusen have arrived.”

Leading the Holy Kingdom’s delegation was someone Sven had never seen before.

When he tilted his head, Wolf explained.

“That’s Larsson, heir to the Holy Kingdom. He didn’t show up even once during the war, but of course he comes to events like this.”

Then Jose appeared, as imposing as ever. He wasn’t fazed at all by the scale of the hall and began eating calmly.

Sven felt respect for his composure.

“Phew…”

Sven looked around. At first, he thought this banquet was genuinely to commemorate the alliance’s victory.

But now he was starting to think differently.

Perhaps the real purpose of gathering everyone here was to highlight the vast difference between the Empire and the other countries.

Even if the alliance envoys were from noble families in their own nations, compared to the imperial nobles, they seemed inferior.

The envoys looked like a bunch of provincial barons. He knew it was an inferiority complex, but he couldn’t help feeling small.

Right then, a young noble child trotted by, a huge diamond hanging from his neck like it was nothing. How could he not feel that way?

“When is that guy going to arrive…?”

Maybe that’s why Sven eagerly awaited the arrival of the third prince of Briol. Suddenly, the horn sounded again, and Sven instinctively looked toward the entrance.

“Ah…”

The doors of the hall opened, and someone’s black hair fluttered in the wind.

Sven was stunned. And not just him—everyone present in the hall was momentarily speechless.

Sven let out a hollow laugh.

Yes, if it was him, of course it would be different.

Someone whispered his name.

“Yuri Briol…”

He only glanced around serenely. He didn’t even blink at the banquet hall’s luxury.

He wore the expression of someone looking at a mere doodle on a wall. Then, he began walking forward calmly.

His clothing rustled as he moved. These men, who were always in armor, now wore elegant, beautiful suits of unknown origin.

Moreover, their hair had been styled to highlight their features. Neither excessive nor lacking—everything was prepared with impeccable elegance.

The third prince, and Laurent following him, were known for their good looks.

And the knights behind them, with their imposing builds, looked like fashion house models.

The third prince walked with a firm step into the hall.

The entire place stirred.

The nobles of the Empire, seeing his aristocratic bearing, even felt intimidated.