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The Four Dukes Who Rule the World Beyond the Hysirion Empire

The Duke of Whitewood in the East.

The Duke of Celestial Grace in the West.

The Duke of Gentle Calm in the South.

The Duke of Iron Wall in the North.

These four wield the greatest power in the empire, second only to the Emperor himself, and each guards one of the empire’s cardinal directions.

They only ever gather in one place when discussing matters of national importance.

People say that when the four dukes move, the world moves with them.

And today—

All four dukes have gathered in one place for the Emperor’s funeral.

A carriage bearing the crest of the Whitewood Duke halted in front of the imperial palace.

A retainer quickly stepped forward and respectfully opened the door.

Click—

A single woman stepped out of the carriage.

Her long legs were revealed beneath the hem of a black dress, pale against the dark fabric.

Though she wore a black veil in mourning, her white hair shone brilliantly.

Her face looked youthful, yet her eyes held a melancholy that made it impossible to guess her age.

The most famed hero in the entire world.

The Duke of Whitewood.

Raksid Anubecia.

She had appeared for the emperor’s funeral.

Correction—let me rephrase that.

The real Duke of Whitewood was currently heading to the Duke of Celestial Grace’s estate to investigate him.

The one present here is a fake.

And that fake… is me.

I let out a breath, keeping my expression steady.

Through the Veil Bandages, I had taken on the perfect form of the Duke of Whitewood.

* * *

For the Emperor’s funeral, where all four dukes would be present.

The Duke of Whitewood saw this as a golden opportunity and devised a plan—for which I now stood here, impersonating her.

“Straighten your posture. Her Grace the Duke of Whitewood holds herself with more pride than that.”

A sharp voice murmured beside me—the man wearing an eyepatch.

The one-eyed retainer with a piercing expression: Alpiren.

He was the Duke’s fiercely loyal attendant, and quite frankly, an over-the-top Whitewood fanatic.

He’s never approved of me, likely seeing me as a scoundrel who’s done nothing but inconvenience the Duke.

And truth be told, he probably knows more about the Duke than I do.

It would be wise to take his advice seriously.

Today, above all else—I must become the Duke of Whitewood.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

His eyebrows twitched once again.

Something about that still didn’t sit well with him.

“…Ugh. Her Grace using honorific speech… It doesn’t suit you at all—but it’s still glorious.”

He trembled with emotion, as if holding back tears at the sight of his idol in a new form.

Just how much does this guy adore the Duke?

This isn’t admiration—it’s borderline worship.

At this rate, he might actually bite his tongue and die from the excitement.

I didn’t linger any longer and started walking.

As I passed through the imperial corridors, the maids and servants bowed deeply.

I nodded slightly in return.

The Duke of Whitewood is, by nature, a kind soul.

Even a greeting from servants should be met with grace and gentleness.

Following Alpiren’s advice, I straightened my posture and walked with more confidence.

Seeing this, Alpiren looked a little more satisfied.

Though from his expression, I could tell I still had much to improve.

‘The others should have arrived at the Blue Tower by now…’

I thought of the group heading to the Mage Tower.

They were likely moving according to plan.

“Ahem.”

Alpiren cleared his throat.

At that sound, I stopped in my tracks.

Ahead of me stood a middle-aged man.

A round face and a protruding belly—an image of warmth and comfort.

But despite his name, this man was as precise as a human calculator—managing the empire’s finances with ruthless efficiency.

The Duke of Gentle Calm.

Silverach Belleggrand.

He appeared with a hearty laugh.

“Well, if it isn’t the Duke of Whitewood! What a pleasant surprise.”

“It’s been a while. Seems the dukes of this land are too elusive for their own good.”

My reply, delivered smoothly, seemed to meet Alpiren’s standards.

The Duke of Whitewood holds the most important position among the four.

So even the other dukes tend to speak cautiously in her presence.

And she, knowing this, often breaks the tension by treating them warmly.

This applies even to fellow dukes.

“Haha, well, no news is good news, isn’t it?”

The dukes only gather when there’s grave news.

This time, it was the Emperor’s death that brought them together.

“Agreed. So—how is the economic situation faring?”

“Oh, don’t even get me started. Ever since Panisys broke out in civil war, our trade exports have been blocked. The merchants are up in arms every day. I’ve been working myself to the bone trying to open new routes.”

“For someone working that hard, you don’t seem to be losing any weight.”

“Hahahah! This belly is my pride! My grandchild even said it looked like a mountain the other day.”

The Duke of Whitewood has known these other dukes since their childhood.

So even playful jabs were met with laughter by Gentle Calm.

And perhaps, this is what makes the Duke of Whitewood truly terrifying.

She is a living legend—an idol to all the empire’s nobles since their youth.

Even the now-deceased Emperor had known her since childhood.

She has been etched deeply into the empire’s foundations—she is the empire itself.

One word from her could stir the nation to action.

‘And—’

The only one who has built up enough power to rival the Duke of Whitewood is the Duke of Celestial Grace—a truly formidable figure.

If the Duke of Whitewood had held even a shred of ambition, things might have turned out very differently.

But sadly, she was a person far removed from worldly desires.

‘Leave the present to the youth.’

That was her life’s philosophy—so she only intervened in the gravest matters of the empire, usually remaining in the background.

This gave the Duke of Celestial Grace the perfect opening to rise.

Recently, with the Mystic Cult’s return to activity, she has resurfaced—but she still cannot move the machinery of power as thoroughly as the Duke of Celestial Grace.

‘Which is why she chose to move in person.’

And why she couldn’t strike recklessly.

Even she must tread carefully.

The Duke Robliage had penetrated too deeply into the Empire.

To uproot him would be to rip out the roots of the Empire itself, possibly shortening its lifespan.

It must have been an endlessly frustrating situation for the Duke of Whitewood as well.

‘And.’

The Duke Robliage, too, found the Duke of Whitewood a thorn in his side.

This funeral would also serve as the final showdown between the Duke Robliage and the Duke of Whitewood.

Would Iris, led by the Duke Robliage, become Emperor?

Or would the truth about the Duke Robliage’s connection to the evil remnants be revealed, pulling him down?

And in the midst of all this, I quietly stepped in as the possessed one.

“Let us go. His Majesty the Emperor would be disappointed if we’re late.”

“Of course.”

Even at the Emperor's death, the Duke Belleggrand did not appear particularly grieved.

Instead, his eyes were deeply calculating the economic situation that would follow the Emperor’s death.

The death of a nation's leader changes many things.

A new imperial family takes the throne, people change, laws change, and the Empire itself changes.

This made the role of the Duke Belleggrand—who managed finance and the economy—all the more important.

He would no doubt want to wrap up the funeral quickly and move on to preparing for the next regime.

It was precisely because of this nature that he refrained from involving himself deeply in politics.

With the power that came from holding the title of Duke, managing the economy was more than sufficient.

‘That’s why—’

He had aligned himself with the Duke Robliage.

The Duke Robliage was the man who had supported numerous economic policies.

And the Duke Belleggrand knew well that he would continue to do so.

The Duke Belleggrand was undeniably on the side of the Third Princess.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

But I quickly turned my gaze away.

He too was unaware of the true intentions of the Duke Robliage.

The enemy was the Duke Robliage, not the Duke Belleggrand.

“Oh, just in time! He’s arrived too!”

At that moment, at the sound of the Duke Belleggrand’s voice, another man came into view.

A man entirely different in physique—muscular and tall.

A deep scar etched next to his eye made his already intimidating face even more fearsome.

The Duke of Ironwall.

Gerhardt Stormfell.

He had once protected the harsh northern frontiers and served as the Empire’s former Captain of the Knights.

“Duke of Whitewood, Duke Belleggrand. Long time no see.”

The Duke of Ironwall spoke bluntly with his usual stony expression.

“That stiff face of yours hasn’t changed.”

I made a joke, and instead of a reply, he simply lifted the corner of his mouth ever so slightly.

The fact that this stone-faced man smiled even that much showed just how powerful the Duke of Whitewood had become.

“I heard rumors you gave a sound beating to those who were once around the First Prince.”

“They seemed poorly trained, so I simply matched their level.”

If the Duke Belleggrand was aligned with the Third Princess, the Duke of Ironwall was on the side of the First Prince.

He preferred the First Prince’s bold and assertive policies over those of the Duke Robliage.

That’s why he had willingly joined the First Prince’s camp.

‘Had he only seen Iris and not the Duke Robliage—’

He might have sided with the Third Princess instead.

Because he respected those with superior martial prowess.

But since the power was centered around the Duke Robliage rather than Iris, he chose the First Prince.

What he wanted was an Emperor who could act, not a puppet monarch.

As I moved forward, the two dukes followed behind me.

To think the day would come when two dukes followed in my steps—it was almost laughable.

“Duke of Ironwall, about today’s matter—”

“Duke Belleggrand, I merely follow my will.”

As we walked, a short exchange passed between the two dukes.

I glanced their way, but they didn’t seem inclined to talk further.

Had they already spoken of something?

It left an uneasy feeling, but the Duke of Whitewood was not one to nitpick over such things.

More importantly, one last man appeared before my eyes.

A man with jet-black hair, like Iris.

And while the others might not have noticed, I could unmistakably feel the thick malice emanating from him.

The hidden great evil of this world.

The Duke Robliage.

Gerdio Robliage.

He stood there.

As soon as he saw us, the Duke Robliage put on a kindly smile.

I knew better than anyone how false that smile was, but I smiled back at him anyway.

“Duke Robliage, you’re looking well.”

“His Majesty passed away recently. I haven’t had much rest.”

I tried to provoke him subtly, but it had no effect.

“I hear you’ve been busy lately, Your Grace.”

Busy indeed.

I nearly died thanks to the Celestial Echo Unit you nurtured.

“What else can I do? When it comes to matters of the mystical, I must act.”

“Truly like the Duke of Whitewood.”

The Duke Robliage smiled, and I smiled too.

We both hid the hostility behind our cursed smiles.

Judging by his reaction, he still hadn’t caught on to my secret.

“Let’s go.”

As I took another step forward, the Duke Robliage walked beside me.

Unlike the other dukes, he matched my stride exactly.

That meant a lot, but I didn’t bother digging into it.

Before I knew it, the garden came into view, and from the dark sky, rain began to pour.

And in the distance, a familiar figure appeared.

Iris Hysirion.

Seeing her now, far more worn and hollow than before, brought many thoughts rushing through my mind.

And standing behind her—I also saw Hania.

I hadn’t told Hania exactly how I would appear today.

I had only sent a single letter saying I would come.

Taking in their forms, I quickly averted my gaze.

Staring too long might cause the Duke Robliage or Iris to sense something.

I came here today to save her.

My fist quietly clenched in secret.

From this point on, the fate of the Empire—and the world—was on the line.

So the task before me was clear.

Until the Duke of Whitewood could bring forth evidence and justification—

I would shake this world to its core.