Perhaps because of the vast size of the imperial palace, the walk to the garden took longer than expected.

    It seemed several times larger than any palace I had visited before, including those in Helium, Alvenheim, and even the enemy kingdom of Teres.

    According to Mari, this was because the sheer expanse of the empire required an equally extensive administrative structure.

    Each territory had its own laws, and the lords governing them were granted significant authority to make management easier.

    Naturally, the reporting procedures for each region were complex, which inevitably led to a variety of departments.

    In fact, what I could see with my own eyes was only a fraction of the whole.

    ‘Even the White House or the Kremlin wouldn’t be this big.’

    Even the offices of the presidents of the United States and Russia—countries renowned for their vast territories—probably weren’t this large.

    In every sense, it was a scale befitting an “Emperor.”

    I wasn’t exaggerating when I thought the entire imperial palace could rival the size of my own territory.

    Granted, my land was underdeveloped and relatively small, but this palace was simply enormous.

    “When are we getting there?”

    “About ten more minutes. The garden is connected to the banquet hall.”

    As we passed through a corridor lined with numerous statues, I asked Mari, and she told me we still had about ten minutes left.

    I let out a small, incredulous sigh at the sheer vastness of the place and glanced around.

    The hallway was so spacious that our footsteps echoed throughout.

    Along the edges, statues stood in neat rows.

    I didn’t know who had designed this place, but I had to give them credit for their aesthetic sense.

    The Kingdom of Teres had a similar space, but it wasn’t as large, nor did it have statues—only paintings.

    Because of this, people from Teres accused the Minerva Empire of copying them, while the Minerva Empire retorted, “So, can you do this?”

    ‘This place would be perfect for hosting an exhibition.’

    Of course, that would be difficult.

    It would probably be faster to build a whole new structure.

    Recently, my father had mentioned that a similar project was already in the works.

    As I walked down the corridor, I took in each statue.

    They were so lifelike that they looked as if they might move at any moment.

    Some made me wonder how they had even been sculpted out of plaster—like a statue that depicted a fishing net in intricate detail.

    ‘...Isn’t this Jin and Lily?’

    There was even a statue depicting the deep love between Jin and Lily.

    I pointed at it, my voice filled with disbelief.

    At a glance, it was just a man and a woman holding hands and pressing their foreheads together.

    But the horns on the man’s head clearly indicated that he was a demon, and the woman’s attire was unmistakably that of a priestess.

    A demon man and a priestess woman.

    The likelihood of such a pairing existing before was close to zero. That meant this statue could only be of Jin and Lily.

    “It looks like them, doesn’t it? This statue wasn’t here before. It must have been placed recently.”

    “...What’s the selection criteria for statues here?”

    “Whatever His Majesty desires?”

    “...”

    Something about this felt seriously wrong.

    Could it be that the Emperor himself was a supporter of Jin and Lily?

    I stared at the statue, which exuded an undeniable sense of longing, then turned my gaze behind me.

    I wondered if there would be any statues related to Zenon’s story.

    Fortunately, there was one that vaguely resembled Zenon. But the problem was... Zenon wasn’t alone.

    It wasn’t with Mary, the heroine, either. Instead, he was with Kair.

    More specifically, it was a statue of Zenon being “trained”—or rather, beaten—by Kair under the guise of training.

    Why on earth was this included?

    “Uh... Does His Majesty have a unique taste in things?”

    “Right? I can’t even deny it.”

    Mari giggled, as if she couldn’t refute it either.

    Even Rina had once described him as an unpredictable person rather than someone who took the middle ground.

    Could these statues be connected to the Emperor’s personality?

    As we continued past the statues, we reached the end of the hallway.

    The banquet hall lay beyond, but it was currently closed. Instead, a path beside it led directly to the garden.

    “...Is that really okay?”

    “Of course. That’s the whole point of those spots. Want to see for yourself?”

    Mari smirked mischievously and traced her index finger slowly from my chest down to my navel.

    I couldn’t help but chuckle at the clear intent behind her actions.

    Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t in the mood.

    I caught her hand and gently moved it aside. She looked a little disappointed but not upset.

    “It’s a tempting offer, but think about the heat. Do you really want to walk back covered in sweat? I sure don’t.”

    “Oh... I hadn’t considered that. No wonder people only mention those spots at night.”

    Mari nodded, seeming to accept my reasoning.

    I found her sincerity amusing but decided to let it slide.

    The most important thing right now was that I was alone with Mari.

    Perhaps because it had been a while since our last date, she started bringing up various topics.

    “Your story is ending soon, right? Are you going to take a break before starting your next one?”

    “Not sure yet. I plan to release a few side stories first. Seeing Grandpa Clark gave me an idea.”

    “A side story... So that means someone’s going to die?”

    “...Huh? How did you know?”

    I was genuinely surprised. I hadn’t mentioned anything about the characters yet, not even a hint.

    Yet, Mari instantly predicted that the protagonist of the side story would die.

    Seeing my reaction, she smirked, answering as if it were obvious.

    “That’s just how your stories go. And this time, it’s a sure thing, right? Every character who gets a side story ends up dead. Just like Kair did.”

    “That’s a bit of a leap, don’t you think?”

    “Then tell me, does that character die or not?”

    “...Yeah, they die.”

    Since the story revolved around Zenon’s father, his death was inevitable.

    Besides, the concept was about “heroes who passed by,” so there was no avoiding it.

    At my response, Mari chuckled knowingly. Then, in a playful tone, she asked:

    “Can’t you keep at least one person alive? If all the characters die, what’s the fun in reading?”

    “But people still read them just fine.”

    “Sure, they do. But you should at least give people some hope. I don’t even support the Jin-Lily couple, but their story is just too tragic.”

    “......”

    If I ever wrote a novel about World War II, she’d probably pass out. I remained silent.

    Silence usually implies agreement, but in this case, it carried a different meaning—more like stubbornness.

    Mari seemed to realize this and shook her head, half in resignation.

    “Well, you’re the writer, so it’s not my place to interfere. But at least consider your readers’ feelings.

    Even your mother-in-law is rooting for Jin and Lily. Can you handle that?”

    “A man has to be firm in his decisions. But just in case, I’ll have a backup plan. If things get too bad, I’ll write a side story.”

    “Yeah, that’s—wait, a side story? Not the main story?”

    Mari widened her eyes, sensing something off. She had figured out that the side story wouldn’t be canon.

    Jin’s resurrection was something I could compromise on. But making it official canon? Never.

    That way, I could add better settings to the sequel of Zenon’s Chronicles.

    And no, I wasn’t talking about World War II—I meant a true sequel.

    “Yeah. Jin’s death will be canon, no matter what. The side story is just a ‘what if’ scenario.”

    “Wow... do you really have to do that? How are you going to handle the backlash?”

    Before I could answer Mari’s exasperated question—

    “So, how do I convince you to let him live?”

    “......?”

    A deep, gravelly voice suddenly came from behind us.

    Startled, I turned around.

    Standing there was a middle-aged man with golden hair and blue eyes.

    His thick sideburns merged with his beard, and his deeply set eyes made him look anything but ordinary.

    Despite wearing simple formalwear and standing with his hands behind his back, he exuded an overwhelming presence.

    “If I kneel, will that be enough?”

    ...Who are you?