"Are you Prince Yuri Briol? A signature, please…"
"Your interview was truly impressive."
"Please look this way."
Yuri made his way through the crowd, greeting each citizen of the Imperial Capital as he passed.
Because of the article and interview in Imperial Monthly, his popularity was soaring sky-high.
Even Gott had suddenly become a celebrity, and despite being from a noble family, support and sponsorship poured in for him from all over the empire.
Yuri muttered to himself.
"But now's not the time to worry about such trivial matters."
He had come to the Empire to prevent a war. And now, the time to carry out his mission was truly approaching.
Yuri glanced at the letter in his hand.
It bore the imperial seal.
All the nations that had joined the Allied Army had arrived in the Imperial Capital, and the Emperor had officially declared that he would host a banquet at the Imperial Palace to honor their achievements.
For this, Yuri was leading the knights of Briol to a tailor.
He and Laurent had no issues, but the others were somewhat lacking when it came to these matters.
As Yuri opened the door and stepped inside, the tailor bowed deeply in greeting.
"Thank you for coming."
Inside the shop, all sorts of fabrics and patterns were on display.
Even at a glance, the materials were clearly high-end.
Simon and Guinness, both of noble birth in their own right, showed little reaction, but Jared stared wide-eyed at the price tags.
He trembled after seeing the price on a sample garment displayed on a mannequin.
"Don't worry. I'm paying."
"Your Highness, that could buy how many bowls of stew…"
"How many?"
"That is to say…"
Yuri ignored Jared and addressed the tailor.
"I'm planning to wear it at His Majesty's banquet. Can you handle everything accordingly?"
"Of course."
The tailor wore a monocle. He looked from Yuri to Laurent, then to Jared, and finally to the others one by one.
His pupils quivered.
In his mind, the patterns were already forming.
He was one of the top tailors in the Empire. So sought-after that ordinary people couldn't even dream of making a reservation, but thanks to Vlad from the temple, who had spoken on Yuri's behalf, he had agreed to accommodate him.
It was at moments like this that Yuri realized why everyone said connections were everything in the Empire.
"Average."
The tailor suddenly spoke.
He pointed to Simon, Guinness, and Jared. Then he turned his hand and spoke toward Ernando.
"Decent."
Ernando shrugged his shoulders.
Then the tailor's monocle turned toward Yuri and Laurent. The corners of his mouth curled upward.
"Masterpiece."
Yuri realized this man was no ordinary tailor.
He was an artist with a world of his own.
People like that usually acted in ways ordinary people couldn't understand.
"This is how it will turn out."
The tailor had already finished the designs in his head.
Yuri clapped his hands. He respected those who had mastered their craft in any field.
"Impressive. You've already finished the clothes in your head?"
"This is my profession, after all."
"Remarkable. When will they be ready?"
"Considering the time left until the banquet, it's quite tight, but…"
The tailor adjusted his tie and offered a formal bow to Yuri.
"For the Third Prince of Briol, I will make it happen."
"Thank you."
"This too must be a mission given to me by the gods."
He was a devout believer.
The temple often served as a place of socialization, and many prominent figures in the Empire strengthened their ties through it, not just the tailor.
Yuri was able to receive his clothing thanks to such a connection.
"Shall we take your measurements now?"
At the tailor's gesture, his assistants stepped forward and began taking measurements from everyone with measuring tapes. The tailor personally measured Yuri.
They carefully measured and recorded every part of the body.
A rough estimate had been made.
"I'll have them sent to the hotel once they're completed."
"Thanks."
Yuri shook the tailor's hand and left.
But his schedule wasn't over yet. This time, Yuri led the group toward a nearby barbershop.
A barber with a finely groomed mustache was already waiting for them.
"I've been expecting you. I'll serve you properly."
"Please do."
After getting their clothes tailored, it was time to fix their hair.
Yuri and his companions took seats one after another at the barbershop.
"It's an honor to be entrusted with His Highness's hair."
The barber, who was also the shop owner, smiled as he began working on Yuri's hair. He was already well-known for being entrusted with the hair of countless nobles.
"You have truly beautiful black hair. How would you like it?"
"My hair…"
Yuri smirked, then showed his princely taste.
"Just trim it."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, my mistake."
He had accidentally spoken in honorifics. Yuri cleared his throat.
"Well, you got it, right?"
"Of course."
The barber was confident. From the moment he started with bare hands to reaching his current status, he had heard that phrase from male clients countless times.
Just trim it, or just tidy it up.
There was hardly a more demanding request than that.
A typical barber might've smirked and welcomed a pushover, but he never did.
He was a true craftsman who poured his soul into each snip of the scissors.
So whenever he received such a request, he put in even more effort.
"I'll show you what it really means to trim."
Once the haircuts were complete, Yuri and his group stepped out of the barbershop with their hair gleaming.
Even though it was just a trim, the atmosphere around each of them had changed.
As a group of stylish men emerged, the eyes of passersby naturally followed.
"Your Highness. Is that the end?"
Simon asked. His voice held an undeniable yearning.
He wanted more.
He wanted to become even more dashing.
Such was the feeling.
Having improved his looks thanks to Yuri, Simon was now fully captivated by the power of styling and yearned to become even more handsome.
Of course, Yuri didn't disappoint his expectations.
"There's still one more."
"Ooh, and that is…?"
"Naturally, skincare."
"Eh…?"
Simon and the rest of the group swallowed hard.
They were clearly nervous.
These were men who had swung swords under the sun until their skin was worn and weathered. They likely thought this kind of treatment didn't suit knights.
But Yuri was not bound by such prejudice.
In his previous life, he had been dragged to every kind of skincare facility by Ekaterina, so he knew well the effectiveness of such treatments.
"Th-that's a bit…"
"Skincare? That's…"
"I don't think so…"
"Fools."
Yuri strode forward without hesitation.
The skincare salon ahead had a cute pink sign hanging outside.
"You'll feel different after you try it."
Yuri opened the door.
As he already had a reservation, the staff bowed deeply as soon as he appeared.
They quickly scanned the skin condition of each member of the group following behind Yuri.
As the aestheticians cracked their knuckles, a series of popping sounds echoed through the salon.
"It won't be easy, but I trust you'll do your best."
"Yes, Prince. Don't worry."
The owner of the skincare shop was full of enthusiasm.
"The gentlemen of Briol who've come here today will be the stars of the banquet. I'll make sure of it."
***
The gates of the Imperial Palace, rarely opened, swung wide.
The largest and grandest building on the continent was, without question, the Imperial Palace, home of the Emperor.
The palace was as splendid and dynamic as the Empire's stature demanded.
Intricately carved sculptures that looked as if they might move at any moment adorned the walls, and every spot that used metal was lavishly gilded.
The red drapery reserved for the Emperor alone fluttered throughout the palace.
The first nation to appear was Liberda.
A guard at the entrance blew a horn, announcing their arrival.
"Hmm…"
Sven Gane, following his father Wolf Gane into the banquet hall, frowned the moment he passed through the entrance.
Everything glittered so much that his eyes needed time to adjust.
The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was especially overwhelming.
It was large enough to fill an entire room, and countless lights sparkled from it. The dazzling radiance bounced endlessly off the chandelier's surface.
"Ah…"
An endless banquet table stretched across the hall, with golden candelabras lit with flickering flames lined up along it.
Though not many people had entered yet, a band had already begun playing music in one corner of the hall.
Sven was momentarily speechless at the sight of such a luxurious banquet hall.
The Imperial Capital had been astonishing enough, but the inside of the Imperial Palace was even more opulent.
"This is the Empire…"
Sven murmured, and Wolf nodded.
"Yes. Can you feel the power of the Empire?"
"Yes."
"That's why you must always be careful."
The Liberda delegation led by Wolf took a position just off-center in the banquet hall.
Gradually, more guests began to arrive. Nobles of the Empire continued to enter.
Most of them were lords from regions Sven had never even heard of, yet all were dressed flamboyantly, as if flaunting their wealth.
In the Empire, even a mere regional lord seemed wealthier than most kings.
Sven felt a bit small, but seeing Wolf standing tall beside him, he straightened his posture and tensed his abdomen.
"They're from the Duchy of Klein."
As the origin of fragrant spices, a soft floral scent wafted in the moment they arrived.
Like Sven had moments ago, the delegation from the Duchy of Klein seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the scale of the hall. They hesitated before glancing around in search of a suitable place to sit.
During that time, servants brought out light appetizers.
Sven picked one up and popped it into his mouth, surprised by how delicious it was.
Wolf murmured,
"They use even the rarest spices without hesitation."
Sven looked toward the front of the banquet hall, where red curtains draped elegantly.
Beyond them, the Emperor's throne would be waiting.
He couldn't even imagine how extravagant it would be.
If a nation this powerful were to launch a full-scale war—just how long could the other countries withstand it?
The thought alone sent a chill down his spine.
Just then, the horn blew again.
Familiar faces began to appear. They were all people he had encountered at least once during the Allied Army campaign.
"The Holy Kingdom and Bursen have arrived."
Leading the Holy Kingdom's delegation was someone Sven had never seen before. As he tilted his head, Wolf explained.
"That's Larsson, the heir to the Holy Kingdom. Didn't show his face once during the Allied Army's campaign, yet here he is for something like this."
Next came Jose, still large and imposing.
He showed no sign of being intimidated by the scale of the banquet hall, casually strolling about and grabbing food. Sven admired his boldness.
"Whew…"
Sven glanced around.
At first, he had naively thought the Empire was simply hosting this banquet to celebrate the Allied Army's victory.
But now, another thought crept in.
Perhaps the real reason for this gathering was to showcase the gap between the Empire and the other nations.
The delegations from the Allied Army were all nobles from prestigious families in their own countries, yet compared to the Empire's aristocrats, they looked underwhelming.
They looked more like a ragtag group of rural barons.
Though he knew it was just inferiority speaking, Sven couldn't help but feel small.
Especially when a noble child walked by with a massive diamond hanging from their neck like it was nothing.
"When is that guy getting here…"
Maybe that was why, Sven found himself looking forward to the arrival of Briol's Third Prince.
Just then, the horn sounded again. Sven instinctively looked toward the entrance.
"Oh…"
As the banquet hall doors opened, black hair fluttered in the breeze.
Sven was taken aback.
So was everyone else in the banquet hall—speechless, even.
Sven let out a breathless laugh.
Yes, he thought that guy would be different.
He heard someone whisper the name,
"Yuri Briol…"
Yuri merely gave a sweeping glance around him, showing no reaction even to the dazzling banquet hall.
His expression was as if he were admiring graffiti on a wall.
Then, calmly, he began walking forward.
His robe rustled softly.
Those who used to wear nothing but armor were now dressed in elegant, refined garments of unknown origin. Their hairstyles were also impeccably groomed to match their appearance.
Not overly flamboyant, yet far from lacking or plain—everything was styled with impeccable taste.
There was no need to comment on the leading Third Prince or Laurent, both already known for their exceptional looks. The knights following them, with their strong physiques, looked like tailor-made models.
The Third Prince walked in proudly.
The entire banquet hall stirred.
At that noble stride, even the Empire's own nobles felt overshadowed.
[T/L: Read more chapters on Ko-fi page "RevengerScans" : https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]