Morning light, warm and gentle, filtered through crystal-clear glass, spilling across the gilded chamber steeped in regal grandeur.
The vast room held countless opulent royal furnishings. Every piece bore intricate carvings—majestic totems and delicate micro-sculptures alike. These lifelike patterns were the work of Brinkley, the Great Empire’s master craftsman. The stubborn old artisan rarely accepted commissions; his wooden masterpieces were near-impossible to obtain.
Yet their owner seemed utterly unimpressed.
The room’s master lay sprawled lazily atop a plush cotton bed, mouth agape as drool pooled on his pillow. One detail stood out: his favorite weapon, a slightly rusted Curved Saber, rested within easy reach beside him.
"Young Master Baiyi, please rise."
A girl in black-and-white maid attire rapped lightly on the door, calling to the boy still luxuriating in sleep.
Baiyi. The name belonged to the Great Empire’s youngest general—and Queen Ellyria’s most cherished adopted son. At just sixteen, he’d conquered territories equal to a third of the current empire during its expansion era. A true Grand General.
No one could reconcile that legendary warrior with the snot-nosed brat drooling on his sheets.
"Ugh… too loud!"
Irritated by the maid’s voice, he rolled over, jamming a pillow over his head. His muffled shout turned sharp: "Shut up already!"
"Young Master Baiyi! Young Master Baiyi!"
*Thud-thud-thud!*
Her calls and the pounding door grated on his nerves.
"Silence! I said *silence*!"
His patience snapped. Even a blameless maid couldn’t steal his precious five extra minutes of sleep. Rage simmered in his voice.
"Oh no…"
Outside, the trembling maid bit her lip, helpless.
"What’s happening here?"
A commanding voice cut through her panic. She whirled around.
"Y-Your Majesty!"
Behind her stood the nation’s supreme ruler: Queen Ellyria.
At thirty, she wielded both breathtaking beauty and ruthless brilliance. During the Old Empire’s decay, she’d rallied a hundred thousand troops, shattering the rotting regime with ease. Her reign brought explosive territorial growth, sweeping reforms, and soaring happiness for her people. Without her, that crumbling empire—military strength notwithstanding—would have been devoured by rivals.
Now, seeing the distraught maid before her son’s door, the Queen’s brow furrowed slightly. Had they clashed?
"Why are you here? What business do you have with my son?"
Her voice carried frost. Merely standing before Ellyria felt like being pinned by a predator’s gaze. The maid shuddered uncontrollably.
"N-no, Your Majesty! I only came to wake Young Master Baiyi!"
Terrified, the maid stammered her explanation.
"I see."
The Queen’s icy glare softened. The suffocating pressure lifted—but none dared meet her eyes. She remained terrifying.
"Leave. I’ll rouse him."
Ellyria dismissed her armored attendants. They bowed sharply, ushering the trembling maid away.
Once alone, the Queen tapped gently on Baiyi’s door. Her voice, once glacial, now flowed like honey:
"Little Yi? Are you awake, sweetie? Mama’s here."
"Mom?!"
*CRASH!*
Inside, Baiyi scrambled off the bed, fumbling for clothes—and knocked over his bedside magic lamp. Glass shards scattered across the floor.
"Ugh! Stupid thing!"
He crouched, wincing. *Mom’s gift… carved by some legendary artisan… I broke it.* His stomach dropped. *Will she be angry?*
"What was that?"
The door flew open. Queen Ellyria rushed in, face tight with worry.
"Mom! Don’t come in—"
Too late.
She found him half-dressed, pajama pants tangled around his ankles, sweeping glass fragments aside.
"Little Yi…"
Relief washed over her. A tender smile bloomed as she lifted him into her arms, cradling him against her chest.
"M-mom…"
Baiyi froze mid-crouch. Though she was his mother—a woman who’d raised and adored him for over a decade—he stopped struggling. He let himself be held.
