The Augustus Empire was unlike any other human nation.
At first glance, there was nothing particularly frightening about it.
Stone streets stretched between rows of buildings.
Markets filled the mornings with shouting merchants.
Church bells rang from tall towers.
Schools opened their gates to children.
Military academies trained young warriors.
Farmers entered the capital carrying baskets of freshly harvested crops.
Knights patrolled the roads.
Carriages carrying nobles passed through the streets.
Children ran between the market stalls while their parents shouted after them.
It looked peaceful.
Almost ordinary.
But it wasn’t.
This was the Augustus Empire.
The empire of the Augusta family.
The Kingdom of Heroes.
And everyone who lived there knew one simple fact.
If war ever reached Augustus…
Someone would stop it.
THE KINGDOM OF HEROES
“Fresh fruit!
Fresh fruit!
Come and look!”
“Move, kid!”
“Watch your step!”
“Sorry!”
The capital was already alive before the sun had completely risen.
A merchant argued with a customer over the price of a sword.
A group of academy students hurried through the street.
“You’re going to be late!”
“I know!”
“Then stop talking!”
“I’m talking because you’re walking too slowly!”
A knight riding past them laughed.
The city was full of life.
Near the eastern market, adventurers unloaded monster materials from a wagon.
“Careful with that!”
“Is that a dragon scale?”
“Don’t touch it!”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you losing a finger.”
The surrounding merchants laughed.
Further down the street, church officials walked toward one of the great temples.
Above them, blue and silver banners bearing the crest of the Augusta family moved gently in the wind.
Nobody seemed afraid.
Nobody was running.
Nobody expected an attack.
And that was the strange thing about Augustus.
Beyond its borders, the world was anything but peaceful.
Demons attacked human settlements.
Dragons fought over territories.
Beasts defended ancient forests.
Human kingdoms fought one another.
Entire civilizations disappeared from maps.
Yet Augustus continued to live.
Children went to school.
Merchants opened their shops.
Families ate together.
Knights patrolled the streets.
The people trusted their walls.
They trusted their soldiers.
Most of all…
They trusted the royal family.
Because history had given them a reason.
An old saying had survived for generations.
If one Augustus warrior entered a battlefield, the fate of the battle could change.
It sounded like an exaggeration.
It wasn’t.
THE EMPIRE’S STRENGTH
“Father!”
A young soldier ran across the training field.
An older instructor turned around.
“What?”
“The western army returned.”
“And?”
“They won.”
The instructor smiled.
“Of course they did.”
“Apparently the enemy army was three times larger.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The young soldier blinked.
“Why?”
The instructor looked toward the enormous royal banner flying above the academy.
“Because they’re Augustus.”
The boy smiled.
He understood.
The empire’s military history was filled with victories that should have been impossible.
Armies many times larger than Augustus forces had been defeated.
Monsters that had destroyed entire settlements had been hunted down.
Enemy commanders had surrendered simply after learning that an Augustus warrior had arrived.
But the royal family itself rarely entered wars.
Not because they were weak.
Quite the opposite.
Their intervention could completely destroy political balances.
The Augusta family maintained relationships with powerful noble houses belonging to other races.
The demon House of Erebus.
The dragon House of Noctis.
And several other noble families.
The empire understood something that many warriors did not.
A sword could win a battle.
Politics could prevent ten battles from happening.
THE IMPERIAL PALACE
At the center of the capital stood the royal palace.
White towers rose high above the city.
Bridges connected the towers.
Gardens surrounded the palace walls.
Guards stood at every entrance.
Inside those walls lived the Augusta royal family.
And at the center of it all was the emperor.
Aurelius Augusta.
The ruler of the Augustus Empire.
To the outside world, Aurelius was a legendary monarch.
A warrior.
A strategist.
A politician.
A ruler who had survived countless conflicts.
But inside his palace…
he was simply a father.
“Again.”
A sword struck another sword.
CLANG!
The young prince stumbled backward.
His instructor immediately shouted.
“Your footing!”
The prince corrected his stance.
“Again?”
“Again.”
The prince attacked.
The instructor blocked.
“Too slow.”
Another strike.
“Again.”
The prince gritted his teeth.
“I’ll get it.”
“Then prove it.”
From a balcony above the training yard, Aurelius watched silently.
Beside him stood one of his daughters.
She leaned against the railing.
“He trains too much.”
Aurelius glanced at her.
“That’s what he wants.”
“He’ll exhaust himself.”
“He’ll learn his limits.”
She sighed.
“You always say that.”
Aurelius smiled faintly.
“Because it’s true.”
She looked back toward the training field.
Her brother continued training.
Sword.
Step.
Strike.
Again.
But after a few moments, her attention shifted.
Toward another part of the palace garden.
A small boy sat beneath a tree.
Nihil.
He wasn’t playing.
He wasn’t training.
He wasn’t talking.
He was simply watching a bird perched on a branch.
His sister stared at him.
“He still does that.”
Aurelius followed her gaze.
“Does what?”
“Nothing.”
She pointed toward Nihil.
“He just sits there.”
Aurelius watched his youngest son.
Nihil looked up at the bird.
The bird tilted its head.
Nihil tilted his head slightly in return.
His sister smiled.
“He’s strange.”
Aurelius said nothing.
After a moment, he replied:
“He’s three.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Aurelius looked at her.
She crossed her arms.
“Most children his age don’t stare at birds like they’re trying to understand them.”
Aurelius chuckled.
“Perhaps he is.”
She frowned.
“Understand what?”
Aurelius looked back toward the garden.
“I don’t know.”
Neither of them noticed that Nihil had stopped watching the bird.
He was now looking directly toward them.
For a moment, their eyes met.
One yellow.
One blue.
Then Nihil looked away.
His sister shivered slightly.
“…See?”
Aurelius smiled.
“He’s your brother.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
THE TWO QUEENS
Nihil’s birth had changed the atmosphere of the royal family.
His mother, Liliyana Augusta, was intensely protective of him.
She had nearly lost him before she had even been able to hold him.
She refused to let anyone treat him as abnormal.
To her…
he was simply her son.
“Nihil.”
The little boy looked up.
Liliyana smiled.
“Have you eaten?”
Nihil nodded.
“Good.”
She picked him up anyway.
Nihil stared at her.
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you carrying me?”
“Because I want to.”
Nihil remained silent.
Liliyana smiled.
“You don’t complain anymore.”
“I never complained.”
“Exactly.”
She kissed his forehead.
Nihil simply stared ahead.
From the doorway, Ilyra watched the scene.
She smiled.
“You’re spoiling him.”
Liliyana turned.
“I am not.”
“You carry him everywhere.”
“He’s my son.”
“He’s also my son.”
“No, he isn’t.”
Ilyra laughed.
“You said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again.”
Ilyra walked closer.
“Give him to me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what you’re going to do.”
Ilyra smiled innocently.
“I would never.”
Liliyana narrowed her eyes.
“You absolutely would.”
Ilyra reached for Nihil.
Liliyana pulled him away.
“Don’t you dare.”
Ilyra laughed.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re annoying.”
Nihil looked from one woman to the other.
“…”
Neither noticed his expression.
He simply waited for them to finish.
The royal family had slowly adapted to him.
To them, he was no longer the Dead Prince.
He was simply Nihil.
The youngest member of the family.
ELYANDRA
There was, however, one person who watched Nihil differently.
Elyandra Vaelith.
The high elf who had once served as an Archbishop of the Imperial Church.
She had abandoned that position after Nihil’s birth.
Not because she believed he was dangerous.
Because she believed he was important.
And now she was his tutor.
His caretaker.
His teacher.
“Nihil.”
The boy looked up from the book.
“Yes?”
“Read this.”
He looked at the page.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
He began reading.
Elyandra watched him carefully.
A few minutes passed.
Nihil closed the book.
“Finished.”
Elyandra blinked.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Nihil answered.
He explained the entire passage.
Perfectly.
Elyandra remained silent.
Then she opened another book.
“Again.”
Nihil looked at her.
“You want me to read another?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m your teacher.”
He stared at her.
Then picked up the book.
“Fine.”
Elyandra smiled.
Nihil learned quickly.
Far too quickly.
If she explained something once, he rarely needed to hear it again.
Sometimes she deliberately gave him difficult questions.
Nihil would stare at them.
Think.
Then answer.
But his answers weren’t what concerned her.
It was how calmly he gave them.
There was no pride.
No excitement.
No desire for praise.
Just understanding.
One afternoon, Elyandra placed a difficult problem in front of him.
Nihil solved it.
She stared at the answer.
Then at him.
“How did you know?”
Nihil looked confused.
“You taught me.”
“I taught you the method.”
“Yes.”
“And you understood it that quickly?”
He nodded.
Elyandra leaned back.
For the first time, she didn’t know what to say.
Nihil returned to his book.
Elyandra watched him.
What kind of person would emerge from such a child?
She didn’t know.
And that uncertainty stayed with her.
THE HEROES OF AUGUSTUS
The empire’s legendary reputation wasn’t built only upon its royal family.
It was also built upon its heroes.
Their names were spoken in military academies.
Their victories were recorded in history books.
Their weapons became symbols of the empire’s strength.
Whenever ordinary soldiers were insufficient, these warriors were sent.
They were living legends.
And even they understood something.
Augustus didn’t need to prove its strength every day.
Its reputation already did that.
THE BORDER
Far from the peaceful streets of the capital, however, another story was unfolding.
At the dragon border, a human army had encountered a dragon force.
Thousands of soldiers stood across the battlefield.
The air was heavy.
Dragon warriors gathered on one side.
Human soldiers gathered on the other.
Weapons were raised.
Orders were shouted.
A dragon commander stepped forward.
“You’re sending one man?”
The Augustus warrior said nothing.
He simply drew his weapon.
The dragon commander laughed.
“Then die.”
The dragons attacked.
The battlefield erupted.
Roars filled the sky.
Magic tore through the earth.
The human army began advancing.
Then the Augustus warrior moved.
One step.
One strike.
One overwhelming release of power.
BOOM.
The battlefield vanished beneath destruction.
Dust swallowed the sky.
The ground shattered.
The dragon forces were overwhelmed.
The human soldiers stopped moving.
Nobody spoke.
When the dust finally cleared…
the Augustus warrior stood alone.
He looked across the devastated land.
Then turned around.
He walked back toward the human forces.
One soldier stared at him.
“That’s it?”
The warrior continued walking.
The soldier swallowed.
“…That’s it.”
No celebration.
No speech.
No arrogance.
For him, it was simply another mission completed.
And that was the terrifying truth behind Augustus.
Its strongest warriors didn’t need to boast.
They simply won.
THE CALAMITY
That evening, the capital remained peaceful.
The markets began closing.
Families returned home.
Children played in the streets.
The church bells rang across the city.
The royal banners moved gently in the evening wind.
Nobody looking at the capital would have imagined that an entire battlefield had just been erased.
Inside the royal palace, three-year-old Nihil walked through a long marble corridor.
His footsteps echoed softly.
Elyandra was several steps behind him.
She was speaking with a palace servant when Nihil suddenly stopped.
Completely.
Elyandra noticed.
“Nihil?”
He didn’t answer.
The boy stared toward the end of the corridor.
There was nothing there.
Only an empty hallway.
Windows.
Curtains.
Golden evening light.
Yet Nihil remained still.
His mismatched eyes reflected the light.
One yellow.
One blue.
Then, quietly, he spoke.
“Uh…”
Elyandra stopped.
“What is it?”
Nihil continued staring.
“The calamity shall start soon.”
Elyandra’s expression changed.
“The calamity?”
Nihil finally turned toward her.
His expression was completely calm.
“Nothing.”
Then he continued walking.
Elyandra remained where she was for several seconds.
She watched him disappear around the corner.
Something about those words disturbed her.
Not because a three-year-old had spoken them.
But because of the way he had said them.
As though he wasn’t predicting something.
As though he already knew.
The pages of the history book stopped.
The curious student stared at the text.
His tired companion leaned forward.
“Wait.”
The curious student looked at him.
“What?”
“Did Nihil just say the calamity was coming?”
“Yes.”
“But what does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
The tired student frowned.
“He’s the prince of Augustus.”
The curious student nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Then…”
He looked back at the page.
“Is Nihil supposed to be a hero?”
The curious student remained silent.
“Or a villain?”
Neither student had an answer.
The curious student slowly turned the page.
A single sentence waited for them.
History would spend centuries arguing over what Nihil truly was.
The tired student sighed.
“Great.”
The curious student smiled.
“We’re only three chapters in.”
He turned the page.
And somewhere beyond the library…
somewhere beyond the peaceful capital…
something had already begun moving.
Neither student knew what it was.
Neither did the citizens of Augustus.
And Nihil…
simply kept walking.