Emperor André III was not dead—this was the news coming out of the palace.
Aside from that, very little was known about the assassin. It was only said that they seemed to be from another race, with no further details.
As soon as Ron learned this from Sylvie, he immediately headed toward the Royal Capital.
But the moment he stepped out of Ron's Wonderful Flower Shop, two palace guards approached and saluted him.
"By order of His Majesty Emperor André, he requires rest during this period and will not meet anyone."
This forced Ron to stop in his tracks.
He tried to ask the guards for more information, but they clearly didn't know much either.
Everything seemed to have happened suddenly—and then just as suddenly returned to normal.
Aside from Emperor André III no longer attending court and instead recuperating in the main hall, nothing else had visibly changed.
But the atmosphere in the Royal Capital had clearly grown tense.
Especially among the diplomatic delegations from various races attending the summit, unease spread quickly.
Most people only knew that Emperor André had been assassinated but was now recovering and out of danger.
So, beyond expressing outrage at the assassin, there wasn't much else anyone could do.
However, many proposals at the inter-racial conference were quietly put on hold.
"Your Highness Ron, please allow me to stay by your side during this period," Sylvie said seriously.
If even Emperor André III could be attacked in the Royal Capital, then others were even more vulnerable.
Although Ron had many life-saving measures and Yuna—a top-tier assassin—protecting him at all times…
Having Sylvie, a sixth-tier mage, with him would only make things safer.
On this matter, Yuna surprisingly agreed with Sylvie.
Considering the danger of the situation, Ron no longer refused Sylvie's close protection.
Back when they first met, he hadn't been comfortable having someone constantly following him.
But now, their relationship had grown much closer. And since Yuna had always been around anyway, Sylvie's presence no longer bothered him.
"If there's any new information from the palace, let me know immediately," Ron said.
Then, after a moment's thought, he looked at Sylvie again.
"If you're going to stay with me all the time, it might be inconvenient to handle matters at the convent. I'll give you something later."
Yuna, hidden in the shadows, immediately understood what Ron meant.
She rose from the ground's shadow and reminded Sylvie, "Make sure to prepare a change of clothes."
Sylvie: "?"
Ron's face darkened. "Don't make it sound weird!"
Yuna pouted. "Hmph! Who knows if you're planning something shady again?"
Helpless, Ron waved them over, bringing Sylvie and Nora—who had been in the shop—up to the fourth floor and into his bedroom.
"Manager, what's going on?" Nora asked curiously.
"He's giving you something good," Yuna said, crossing her arms as she appeared from the ceiling. "You both know he has that substitute body, right? Now you'll have one too."
Nora looked shocked, while Sylvie frowned slightly.
"Your Highness Ron, didn't you say only a Chosen One could use that?"
Back when Ron traveled from the City of Chaos to the Royal Capital, he had used a puppet as a decoy while disguising himself as a guard.
Sylvie had known about his puppet from the beginning.
At the time, Ron had explained it as "a gift from the Goddess, usable only by the Chosen One."
"Ahem." Ron took out two life-sized puppet fruits from his inventory and placed them on the bed. "They've been improved since then. Anyone I acknowledge can now use them."
"What about the regular puppet fruits?" Nora asked eagerly.
Danger!
Sweat appeared on Ron's forehead as he awkwardly changed the subject.
"Just touch the fruits first. I'll step out—call me when you're done."
With that, he quickly left the room.
The full functionality of the standard puppets hadn't been revealed.
Everyone thought they could only transmit sound and speech.
But Ron knew the truth—they provided a full sensory experience.
If that got exposed, Nora and Mia would probably claw him to death.
After all, Mia had kept her puppet in her room since returning to the capital—changing clothes, sleeping, completely unguarded.
Sometimes she even placed it in her storage space…
As for Nora, she had hugged Ron's chibi puppet all day when he first left—and done all sorts of embarrassing things.
She had even kissed it on the lips at his request.
If she found out the truth, she'd probably faint on the spot.
Back in the room, Nora and Sylvie approached the bed and touched the puppet fruits.
The puppets began to transform, turning into two identical, unclothed versions of themselves.
Nora instantly flushed red, rushing to cover her puppet and carefully dress it.
Sylvie, however, showed little embarrassment. As a nun, she had little interest in such matters.
She examined the puppet closely, even poking and prodding it with curiosity, inwardly impressed.
"You can project your consciousness into them and control them directly," Yuna explained from above.
After trying it, the two puppets sat up and dressed themselves.
"So amazing…" Puppet Nora looked herself over and walked around excitedly like a child with a new toy.
Sylvie quickly adapted, then controlled her puppet to open the door and speak to Ron outside.
"Your Highness Ron, since I have this puppet, I'll send it to the convent to handle affairs."
Ron nodded, watching Puppet Sylvie head downstairs before entering the room.
He wrapped an arm around Nora's waist and said:
"For now, use the puppet for anything outside. Keep your real body here—we'll all stay together."
With the life-sized puppets distributed, no one needed to go out in person anymore.
Their real bodies could remain safely inside the shop, and if danger arose, they could escape instantly through the storage room's spatial transfer system.
Unless someone could seal all three flower shop locations at once, there was no way to trap Ron and his group.
Of course, this was just a precaution.
Although an assassin had targeted Emperor André III, no one knew their true objective—or whether Ron, as the Seventh Prince, might also be a target.
So it was better to be safe.
And so, in the following days, Ron and the others stayed inside the shop, letting their puppets handle everything outside.
They sat together playing War of the Gods, enjoyed resin spa treatments when tired, or entered the Phantom World for intense rounds of "Battle of the Royal City."
It was, in every sense, a carefree, "immortal-like" life.
…
On the outskirts of Tansen City, in the farmland—
Inside a small courtyard, Old Charles had just returned from the City of Chaos. He chatted with his eldest and second sons, even taking out the scale-like leaf from the Divine Tree to show off.
After asking about the state of the fields, he suddenly asked:
"Where's your third brother? Not back yet at this hour?"
"Since Tansen City came under His Highness Ron, there's been a lot happening. He's been staying in the city gathering information," the eldest replied.
Old Charles nodded. "When I came back, I saw several huge machines moving around the streets. If not for everyone else acting calm, I would've run away."
"Those are excavators and road rollers," the second son explained. "I don't fully understand either, but they're for construction—something His Highness Ron came up with."
"His Highness Ron is a Chosen One blessed by the Goddess. Becoming our lord can only be a good thing," Old Charles said confidently, clearly a devout believer.
At that moment, the third son ran into the courtyard, shouting:
"I've got good news!"
"Why are you shouting?" Old Charles tapped the wooden stool beside him. "Sit down and talk."
The third son sat down, brimming with excitement.
"His Highness Ron is recruiting private troops!"
"What does that have to do with us?" the eldest frowned. "We're not warriors."
"This time it's different!" the third son exclaimed. "They only require men between 16 and 45, healthy and strong—no need to be a warrior!"
"Really? Are you sure you didn't misread?" the second son asked skeptically.
"Of course not!" the third insisted. "They had someone explaining everything clearly—no requirement for Battle Aura at all!"
"That's impossible. How can nobles recruit soldiers without Battle Aura?" the eldest said, unconvinced.
"Let me finish!" the third snapped.
"The speaker had one of His Highness Ron's guards beside him, holding something called an Element Gun."
"It has a trigger—just press it lightly, and it releases magic, just like a mage's staff."
"The key point is—it doesn't require mana. Even ordinary people can use it."
"I got picked to try it! It's real!"
"I aimed at a training dummy, pulled the trigger, and a burst of fire shot out and blew it to pieces!"
"They said the private troops will train with these Element Guns—Battle Aura doesn't matter."
Old Charles listened carefully, then asked, concerned:
"Is it dangerous?"
"It's powerful, so yeah, it'd be dangerous if used on people," the third admitted. "But they said the training is to fight off beast tides."
"Our fields were damaged by beasts last year. If I join, I could help protect them!"
Old Charles and the eldest fell silent.
The second son, however, was intrigued.
"What do these guns look like? Can they really drive off beasts?"
Seeing his interest, the third eagerly leaned in to explain.
Finally, Old Charles tapped the stool again.
"What about the treatment? Are you planning to go?"
"They said there's a three-month trial period—5 silver coins per week. If you perform well, you'll be promoted to full status at 30 silver coins per week."
"They also provide food and lodging during training."
"And His Highness Ron will even provide Crimson-Gold Chrysanthemum for free—it helps increase the chance of forming a Battle Aura Vortex."
"I heard many people who couldn't become warriors succeeded with it!"
Hearing this, even Old Charles's breathing grew heavier.
Five silver coins per week during the trial alone was already a decent income—especially with food and lodging included.
And once promoted, 30 silver coins per week meant over one gold coin per month.
That was the income of a middle-class citizen in the Royal Capital.
If they performed well and rose to squad leader or higher, they could become upper-class commoners.
Compared to farming all year for a few gold coins—split among the whole family—this was far more attractive.
After hearing everything, Old Charles made a firm decision:
"Tomorrow, I'll take your second and third brothers into the city to confirm this."
"If it's true, they'll both apply."
"But the farmland stays. The eldest will manage it—it's our last safety net."
All three sons nodded in agreement.
Then Old Charles took out the Divine Tree's leaf and led them in a devout prayer in the courtyard.
Scenes like this were unfolding all across Tansen City.
The recruitment of private troops was progressing smoothly.