Chapter 628: The Marshal’s Burden
But the Marshal, trained to have superior reflexes, couldn’t escape those hawk-like eyes that would follow him even into death.
Which was precisely what led to this disaster just waiting to happen.
__
"This should do it, right?" asked the woman with soft brown hair tucked neatly beneath a registration attendant’s cap.
She had on the same crisp uniform as the others—though on her, the bland fabric looked elegant, sharp, almost regal. Her posture was too straight, her hands too precise, and her eyes too shrewd for a mere clerk. Even in disguise, Empress Gisella radiated authority like perfume.
"Honey, it’s excellent. It seems you are great at this," replied the man beside her, his black hair styled plainly, his expression neutral.
Unlike his wife, he had lived far too many years in disguise. Emperor Xavian wore the uniform like he was born to it, moving with the ease of someone who had blended into crowds countless times before. Every gesture was measured, every glance ordinary. If one didn’t look too closely, he was just another tired clerk ready for another day of mindless paperwork.
"Ah, it’s been so long since I’ve had to do this," Xavian said, brushing his borrowed badge with a grin. "But I think I haven’t lost touch. What do you think, Julian?"
What did he think?
He thought the whole thing was insane. He thought this should never have happened. He thought, most of all, that if it did happen, he shouldn’t have been the poor soul caught in the middle of it.
Marshal Julian’s jaw clenched as he remembered the earlier ordeal.
It had already been difficult enough to stop Imperial Princess Nina from coming. She would have insisted with her whole being had Butler Henry not reassured her that there would be no children inside the registration center.
The princess had threatened to disguise herself as a blob, or worse, one of the pint-sized alien races, just so she could sneak in. The ruling couple had to demand who, then, would be left in charge of the Imperial Palace if they all left.
Her answer?
"Mr. Quackers and Snowy."
Julian had nearly fainted.
Thankfully, the monarchs managed to pacify her by acting pitiful, promising she could attend the auction and pick out whatever she wanted. That softened her, but only after tears spilled down her cheeks—tears born of remembering how the first auction invitation had never reached her mother’s hands.
So Nina had relented, finally staying behind.
But did that mean Julian’s nightmare ended there?
No. Of course not.
Because now, how was he supposed to deal with these two insane monarchs?!
How did it even come to this?
He remembered exactly. It all started when he’d been cornered to the inch of his life and forced to admit he had seen Xavier together with Luca Kyros.
Obviously, they grilled him until he nearly combusted. Why hadn’t he said anything sooner?
Julian, driven mad himself, shouted back, "Even you, who know about it now, aren’t sure what to really do! Then what about me, who is just his uncle?!"
"And what should I have said? Would anyone believe me if I claimed the Imperial Crown Prince was practically possessed?!"
Oh. Well. That was true.
Even Empress Gisella had to admit that without proof, it would have sounded impossible.
But then Julian thought, how could it be impossible when the man his sister married was basically the same? Wasn’t this hereditary?!
It clearly was.
But people always said love was blind. So apparently, were these two.
Could they, at the very least, not endanger his life like this?
If only.
If only that were his only issue.
Because of how frazzled they were, it was only now that the disgruntled Marshal finally got to explain the actual reason they were all here.
Enclosed within a spiritual barrier, he began gravely, "Your Majesties, just so you’re aware, we’re in a tight position because Duke Leander might blow his fuse at any time."
"Huh? Why? What happened?!" Normally, the Empress wouldn’t care much about one of the Duke’s tantrums. But this wasn’t just anyone—it was the chipmunk’s father. This meant they had to tread very carefully.
"It’s because of this." Marshal Julian pulled out a mecha space button. The Imperial couple stared at it, unblinking.
"A mecha?"
Julian nodded. Then he dropped the real bomb. "But not just any mecha. This is possibly an SS-grade mecha."
"!!!"
"What?!"
The Emperor and Empress finally recovered, but their expressions shifted into horror.
"Are you saying there’s actually a real probability that this is the first SS-grade mecha?!"
Marshal Julian grimaced. "Honestly, Your Majesty... in my opinion, this isn’t the first SS-grade mecha. It’s simply the first that has come to our attention."
"?"
He then laid it out—the tests, the scans, the abnormal readings. If not for the mounting pressure that piqued the curiosity of the staff, it would have been filed away as a normal S-grade.
"Then why do you think there are others?"
"Because, Your Majesty, this is the seventeenth mecha registered under the same ID this month alone."
"!!!"
"Come again?!" The Emperor’s voice cracked, and the Empress’s eyes went sharp as blades.
The next question was inevitable.
"The master mechanic?" the Emperor asked.
"Hidden profile. But not for long," Julian said grimly. "I tried to schedule a visit to the Imperial Archives, and guess what? They couldn’t even accommodate me within the month."
"Who else wanted to know?" The Empress’s eyes narrowed. She was supposed to be pretending to be an office attendant, but with that glare, she looked more like she was preparing an execution.
"As you can probably guess, practically the entire master mechanic coalition. They’re coming in full force. I even heard there were disputes about who gets appointments first. They’ve resorted to deciding based on who they think will kick the bucket first."
The Emperor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable."
Julian sighed. "But I don’t think they’re only going there to find out. Some of them might also be going to verify."
The Empress’s eyes narrowed further. "Brother, when you say verify, is that because you actually have an inkling about the identity of this mechanic?"
Julian nodded slowly. "It’s because of this." He pulled out another mecha space button and displayed the guarded data.
The Emperor and Empress both leaned forward as the charts lit up.
"These ratings..."
"So it’s another one?! Now, who owns this other one?"
"Not exactly, Your Majesty. This one is a bona fide S-grade mecha. But if you look at the hidden ratings we kept off the record, you’ll notice similarities."
He paused, his jaw tight.
"This mecha happens to be mine."
"WHAT?!" Both monarchs, dressed in uniforms they would never have been caught dead wearing otherwise, nearly fell out of their seats.
Just what kinds of things had they missed when they were out on that delegation!?
"Then clearly you know who the mechanic is."
Julian gave them a long look. "Well, that’s just it. Now it seems you two also know him."
"???"
Julian braced himself. "Well, you see, my new mecha was made by a young licensure examinee named Luca Soren Kyros."
"..."
"..."
"Oh. And he made it in a day."