With this, the prologue of [The Fallen Prince] had come to an end.
Sitting atop the highest tower of the Britannia Imperial Palace, Ivan surveyed the devastation he and his army had unleashed upon the once-beautiful capital city of Camelot.
Night had fallen, and the city was eerily silent—no more screams, no clashing of swords, nor the crackling of fire consuming homes. The horrors of the morning had subsided, leaving only the remnants of destruction in their wake.
His forces now patrolled the streets, ensuring the survivors were kept under control. It would be troubling if anyone would try something dangerous to get revenge.
"It's really calm," Ivan mumbled appreciating the silence.
Each time he carried out his Father's orders to raze villages, towns, and countries in the name of converting them to Seraphiel's Faith, a dark thrill coursed through him. It was like a drug, an intoxicating pull he could never resist.
And when he succeeded in converting people to their Faith, he felt closer to Seraphiel, as if her divine grace was washing over him.
What began as a duty had gradually become a twisted mix of desire and obligation.
But above all, he did it to protect 'them.'
In this world, people like them, heretics were hunted down and burned at the stake. The only way to survive was to reshape the world in Seraphiel's image, even if it meant tearing it apart to rebuild it anew.
"May Chaos bring forth Order huh?" He whispered, clutching the black cross around his neck.
To others, these words might sound like the ravings of a madman, but they were his lifeline.
When all of this is over, I will bring peace and order to the world.
Everything he had lost, his mother, his people had to have a meaning.
But until that day comes, there will be no mercy, no tolerance.
"Ivan."
Ludmila's voice echoed softly from behind as she approached, her steps light atop the tower's roof. She settled beside Ivan, leaning her head on his shoulder as she often did.
Ivan glanced at her briefly. Her flawless, pale face, usually an unreadable mask, held a faint smile as she seemed content with her current situation.
Seeing her like that, Ivan couldn't help but feel his own expression soften though his face remained emotionless. He turned back to the sight of Britannia spread out below them.
"Wow! What great work we've done. Look at that, Dimitri!" Mikhail chuckled, a satisfied grin on his face as he joined them.
"I don't find it particularly pleasing to the eye. Better start the repairs soon…" Dimitri muttered, trailing behind with a sleepy gaze, nearly stumbling as he walked.
"Huh?" A startled sound escaped him as he almost toppled off the edge, hundreds of meters above the ground. But a pale hand swiftly caught the scruff of his neck.
"Watch your step, brother," Kamila sighed.
Even though Dimitri wouldn't have been hurt, let alone killed, from such a fall, Kamila couldn't bear to see him plummet so pathetically. Despite wearing heels, she maintained perfect balance, her pale blonde hair floating around her as she approached.
Her dark gaze lingered on Ivan and Ludmila, and she found herself smiling fondly. Taking a seat on Ivan's other side, she joined the group.
"I'm quite jealous, Ivan—or should I say Emperor Ivan? All of this belongs to you now, huh?" Mikhail said with a grin. Despite the words, there was a note of pride in his voice.
"Sounds like a real headache to manage," Dimitri mumbled.
"What isn't a headache for you?" Mikhail grimaced.
"You're even more tiresome, picking fights everywhere," Dimitri replied.
"W–What? I'm just looking for a worthy opponent, y'know?" Mikhail retorted defensively.
"You won't find anyone like that except in the Cathedral, Mikhail," Kamila chimed in with a smile.
"Screw that. That place is even more boring. At least here, there's a bit of excitement," Mikhail grumbled.
"You must be a sadist, then…" Dimitri gave him a judgmental look.
"Look who's talking," Kamila laughed softly.
While the three bickered Ludmila smiled. With them around, be it her or Ivan, they felt at peace that they had never known before.
It was Ivan's only remaining family in this world.
The only reason he found worth living for and the driving force behind everything he did.
But each one of them was destined to be a Major Antagonist in this cursed novel, with their own tragic arcs leading to their deaths at the hands of the protagonist and his women.
The mere thought of it filled Ivan enough anger to wipe out the entire country where they were and everyone who would play a part in their death already.
But he had to be rational.
Careful.
First, he needed to stabilize Britannia, to ensure no one would even think about taking weapons against them. He wasn't going to repeat the mistakes he was supposed to make in the novel, which would only create enemies from within.
And the first step toward that goal started with Siver's solution.
"I will be taking Gwenyra Pendragon as wife."
The air froze as the words left his mouth. The others fell silent, their reactions immediate.
Ludmila's head, resting on his shoulder, trembled slightly before she lifted it, her black eyes growing darker as they met his. "Ivan?"
Kamila's gaze darkened as well, her demeanor shifting beside him.
"Britannia's population will be more willing to accept our changes and conversions to our Faith if the new Empress is a former princess they adored," Ivan explained calmly.
"Who cares about them?" Mikhail frowned.
"We just have to kill those who refuse to convert," Kamila said coldly.
"Killing the dissenters is one thing," Ivan replied, "but Britannia wouldn't be an empire without its people. They are our workforce, our future armies. Many are probably already plotting to take back Camelot. We need to use both fear and hope to force them to adapt to the new Britannia."
"Hope?" Dimitri asked, his sleepy gaze waking slightly.
Ivan nodded curtly. "The princess will be their hope for a better and fairer future. They will think twice before attacking."
"You want to use her to manipulate her people for our cause?" Ludmila asked, voicing what was likely on all his mind. As expected, she was right.
"Sounds good," Mikhail said, stroking his chin. "But if she refuses and starts plotting a secret insurgence—"
"She won't." Ivan interrupted. "The only reason I am keeping her and her family alive is only for that. Each one of them might prove useful while they still draw breath."
A heavy silence settled among us, and Ivan could tell that, despite their initial reactions, Mikhail and Dimitri eventually agreed with him. But Ludmila and Kamila remained quiet, their expressions unreadable.
"I understand it's for the greater good, but I don't like that you have to marry her," Kamila finally said, a hint of disgust in her voice.
Ludmila gave a similar look but after a moment, she nodded. "I… understand."
"Ludmila?" Kamila sounded surprised. She had expected Ludmila to be the first to oppose the idea.
Ludmila turned to Ivan, cupping his cheeks between her hands, her dark eyes locking onto his.
"She'll be just a woman, a mere decoration beside a God. No one will ever compare to us," she said softly, searching for reassurance in Ivan's eyes.
Ivan didn't need to respond—the answer was obvious to both of them. No one could ever take their place in his heart.
"Also. I will be joining the Exorcist Academy of Ocryphia."