The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

"...Let me be honest. Even after learning about your 'brilliance'—"

The Emperor’s gaze briefly flickered toward Damien. It seemed he hadn’t revealed my abilities to others. If he had, there’d be no need for such indirect language.

"—I spent a long time preparing for war. At times, I even considered deceiving your keen eyes or hoping you’d come to understand my ambitions. But no matter how much time passed, I realized a global war wasn’t to your liking."

The Emperor smiled as he spoke. It wasn’t a bitter smile—far from it.

"So, I began seriously contemplating why you are so opposed to war. Was it because you lacked patriotism for the Empire? Were you worried things would grow too complicated if you succeeded me as Emperor? Or perhaps you feared your beloved sisters might get caught up in the chaos?"

The Emperor shook his head.

"No, it wasn’t a lack of patriotism. I’ve seen how deeply you care for the Empire’s future. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have offered me advice whenever I asked about the Empire’s prospects or shown such anger at the corruption of the nobility."

Ah...

No, he had it wrong. I cooperated because staying silent would have seemed even more suspicious. And I was angry at the corrupt nobles not out of any grand ideals but because their actions were utterly insane. If they’d been quietly indulging in bribes and self-serving deals, I wouldn’t have cared much.

"And you never showed any desire to become Emperor. Instead, you seemed more interested in seeing your sisters ascend to the throne. To my eyes, it wasn’t simply a matter of playing kingmaker. It felt like you genuinely wanted them to become Emperor. Whether that stemmed from trust in their abilities or a desire not to take anything away from them, the outcome was the same."

Alice’s gaze shifted toward me again.

But this time, her expression wasn’t one of irritation or anger. It was far more complex.

And that made it even harder to meet her eyes.

Instead, I forced myself to look directly at the Emperor.

"You have no hesitation when it comes to pulling the trigger—provided your target deserves it. That’s why you recoil at the thought of dragging ordinary Imperial citizens into a war. Outwardly, you project the image of a cold, unfeeling war machine, but to me, you’re deeply human. And yet, your foresight is unmatched."

The Emperor smiled again.

It was a peculiar smile, one that didn’t seem fitting for someone like him.

Not because it was dangerous—no, it was the kind of smile I wouldn’t have expected him to wear.

It was the smile of a father proud of his child.

"And so, over the years, I began envisioning the Empire you wanted. In a way, it became a challenge to myself. To build the greatest empire in the world, one so unassailable that even you couldn’t deny its merits. That’s been my goal for the past several years."

...

The fact that I didn’t immediately blurt out "What the hell?" was a testament to how much my patience had grown.

Well done, me. Such remarkable self-restraint.

...No, wait. This wasn’t growth at all!

I’d been so focused on the original story that I’d completely misjudged everything!

I’d always assumed the Emperor was preparing for war, that the Empire was destined to become a villainous superpower. I thought several of the heroines would inevitably face mortal danger—or even die—and that my mission was to prevent it.

But what if that premise was entirely wrong?

What if the Empire wasn’t becoming a force of evil? What if the Emperor had turned into an oddly righteous figure? What if a world war never broke out at all?

At its core, this should have been a good thing. The protagonist’s party would achieve their goals without anyone getting hurt.

The problem was that it meant the future had been derailed completely—far more severely than I’d anticipated.

And not just recently—this derailment had started much earlier than I’d realized.

"Did you... find an answer?" I asked cautiously.

"Almost," the Emperor replied, still smiling.

"It’s not perfect. Compared to my original plans for world domination, it’s far less flawless. But in terms of risk, this approach is much safer. It’s almost impossible to reach an ideal conclusion, but even in failure, this path guarantees a positive outcome. And that’s all thanks to you. For that, I’m grateful."

"..."

I stayed silent for a moment before asking, "Can you share this answer with me?"

"Of course."

The Emperor nodded, his smile unwavering, and began explaining his plan.

"First, the colonies will gradually gain independence. Borders will be restored to what they were before Imperial conquest. The modern infrastructure we’ve built on their land will remain theirs."

"...The Empire will lose all the benefits it’s gained from them," I pointed out.

"Do you think they’ll ever catch up to the Empire, even after independence?"

No, they wouldn’t—just as South Korea would never catch up to the United States.

"Exploitation has its limits. It’s better to foster their growth and establish fair trade relationships. In the long run, this approach is more profitable. They’ll gain independence, but they’ll remain part of our union. Over the coming centuries, we’ll help them solve their problems, fostering a dependency that ensures an unbreakable alliance."

The Emperor’s smile grew as he spoke.

"And if others wish to join our union, we’ll welcome them. Our currency will unify under the Imperial standard, and our weaponry will become the global standard. While their lands won’t belong to us, they’ll be unable to survive without the Empire."

"...But for that to work, Your Majesty would need to live for several centuries."

"Then we’ll ensure it can be done."

"Are you saying you’ll create successors who share your vision?"

"Precisely."

I glanced at Alice.

"Oh, Alice will be one of those successors. And so will you."

"You’re proposing a dual Emperor system?"

"There will only be one person on the throne, as you wish. That person will be Alice."

Seeing my startled expression, the Emperor grinned like a child who had landed a perfect punch in a boxing match.

"My absolute authority will be divided and entrusted to those who will never betray it—those who despise the nobility yet remain essential for keeping them in check."

Ah.

I was starting to understand.

"Who exactly will...?" Alice asked, her voice trailing off.

The Emperor smirked.

"The people, my dear daughter."

He spoke playfully.

"I will entrust my absolute power to the people before I die."

Strengthening parliamentary powers. Universal suffrage.

If the nobility held even slightly more power than the Emperor, they might have resisted fiercely. But in the Empire, no one could oppose the Emperor’s will.

No one could kill all the people.

At first glance, transferring the Emperor’s power to the populace might seem like weakening it. But in reality, it was the opposite.

Until the entire population was eradicated, that immense power would remain intact.

Even if 10% of the population were massacred, the remaining 90% would still hold that power.

"The institutions are already in place," the Emperor continued. "All I need to do is instill my vision in the people. I won’t live forever, but I have enough time. Thirty years is enough to educate a generation."

"..."

"What do you think, my daughter?"

The Emperor leaned toward me, his eyes gleaming.

"This is the answer I’ve come up with. A way to make the Empire the center of the world, one you cannot reject. What do you think?"

I had no response.

It wasn’t a perfect plan. There’s no such thing as a perfect plan, system, or politics.

I wasn’t an expert on these matters either.

But...

But I was someone who had grown up consuming media where empires were almost always the villains.

I had been raised in a republic, educated to believe in equality and universal rights.

In that sense, the Emperor had read me perfectly.

His words sounded utterly righteous to me.

So much so that I couldn’t find a single point to refute.