Don't Be Kind Rashly (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 112

The social circles of the Perseita Empire never stopped or took a break.

During holidays, they gathered at resorts; during harvest season, each hosted events at their own estates—somehow, everyone always managed to meet. The most important weddings and funerals occurred several times a year, inviting people together, and every encounter sparked gossip and actions that led to yet more meetings.

Moreover, the weather was growing steadily warmer. The season had arrived when marriage proposals flew back and forth and weddings clustered together.

In the mansions of influential nobles, light balls, tea times, poetry recitals, concerts, and banquets were held nearly every day, while theaters continuously staged operas, ballets, and plays.

Gentlemen and ladies meeting at gatherings or outings would catch each other’s eyes, and rumors would spread about who showed interest in whom.

But things were no longer as they used to be.

“It’s not the Alsmone Alliance anymore.”

“Then should we call it the Alsne Alliance?”

Though one might not notice an occupied seat, an empty one was always obvious. The Alsmone Alliance could no longer be upheld by just four houses—House Moiquipel had vanished entirely.

History belongs to the victors, after all. The Emperor remained strong, while Moiquipel no longer existed. The Emperor declared he would swallow everything belonging to Moiquipel and even change the name of the land itself—a clear intention to leave no trace behind.

“Well, honestly, we should subtract one more from there. Didn’t the entire East suffer disgrace this time?”

430 years ago, when Carlos Arthur Ingram slaughtered the entire Perseita imperial family, the eastern nobles groveled flat on the ground to preserve their pitiful lives. They abandoned the empty imperial palace and settled in the East, beginning to pose as so-called noble houses.

It was only natural. Under the fragile peace barely secured by the Dragon Lord, the noble houses of the West and North perished while hunting monsters. The South disappeared, and the Center amounted to nothing. Thus, they survived as noble houses for 430 years.

But now the Emperor had returned, and the moment arrived when those so-called noble houses—who had never bowed their heads before—had to bend even at the waist. Naturally, those who had long resented their behavior began to speak up.

“A mere ‘Your Grace,’ not even worthy of ‘Your Highness’—what arrogance.”

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