Chapter 41：The Daily Life of an Emperor

Within the capital city of Drussia; Maximinus there stood Maximinus Palace, the main government building of Drussia and home to the emperor of the Imperium of Drussia; 'The great Maxwell Von Galnus Dunnwal.'

And what was this great emperor doing right now?

He was relaxing on his bed with his head resting against his comfortable pillow as he read a novel.

Although Maxwell was the emperor, most of his power within the Imperium was in fact symbolic.

Apart from the Drussian Military, most legislative and executive power within the Imperium belonged to the Prime Minister; Maxwell's oldest brother; Cromwell Gorro Dunnwal.

On the other hand, most of the Imperium's budget and finances were managed by the treasurer; Maxwell's second oldest brother Keizwell Garno Dunnwal.

Even the Drussian military was mostly governed and handled by his previous first lieutenant and now commander-in-chief; Erika Bismark Pollorov.

As for Maxwell, all that was required of him was to show up at formal meetings or ceremonies to uphold traditions and please the crowds.

Of course Maxwell was more than content to leave these matters in more capable hands. Even in his first life, he was never really fond of monotonous tasks and paperwork.

As of right now, the Imperium of Drussia was busying itself with a complete and total reformation of the nation.

Policies and laws were amended to suit the Dunwall's needs while the economy was being reorganised in preparation for the needs of 'total war.'

Assets that were owned by troublesome, rebellious or deceased noble families were 'repossessed' by the Imperium of Drussia before they were liquidated to fill the Imperium's treasury.

The Violet Army itself was being reformed to accommodate the needs of the entire Imperium of Drussia.

The army's ranks were supplemented from the whole of Drussia, not just from the provinces of the Dunnwal family. Former soldiers of other Drussian families were either conscripted into or discharged from the Army based on their ability to adapt to Maxwell's military doctrine.

With nationalism and recruitment rates at an all-time high, an economic powerhouse to ensure its sustainability and highly competent and cunning commanders, the Violet Army's successor, the Imperial Drussian Armed Forces or as it was more colloquially termed; the Imperial Army was truly a force to behold.

In truth, Maxwell could launch a full-scale invasion onto any bordering nation whenever he pleased.

However, he wasn't nearly as stupid enough to engage in a foreign invasion without ensuring that enough prerequisites were in place.

As such, all that Maxwell could do was busy himself with activities such as reading to pass the time.

If Maxwell were to make a comparison, he would compare it to when he spammed the 'end turn' button while he was building up his economy and army on those turn-based strategy games he used to play during his spare time within his first life.

Of course this was real life and not a game but Maxwell really couldn't deny the similarities, as vulgar as this comparison may sound.

Although just because he was content with simply idling by does not necessarily mean that he liked it.

However, Maxwall found solace in the fact that his dreams are coming into fruition, his dream of being immortalised into history due to his great achievements... that and-

"Your majesty, your meal is ready."

Good, wonderful food.

Due to being an emperor, Maxwell will never experience a shortage of good, gourmet food.

Although it could never really compare to the delicacies of fine dining from his first life, the dishes available for a monarch such as Maxwell was leagues ahead the microwaved meals that he usually had to stomach in his previous life.

Not to mention how long and extensive the list of meals available actually was.

With a smile on his face, Maxwell lifted his back off his bed as he made his way for the palace's dining hall.

Along the way, he was soon surrounded by maids, all of whom immediately went to work on his appearance.

Within a few moments, Maxwell was already wearing one of his numerous coats, a black overcoat which had white outlines but was coloured purple on the underside of the fabric.

One of the maids went to fix a jabot to his collar while others buttoned up his coat and straightened his cuffs and sleeves.

Some of them even bent down and attempted to shine his shoes while he was walking.

However, try as they may might, by the end of it, Maxwell was still sure that his appearance will still be at least somewhat sloppy.

Maxwell admitted that it would have been more effective if the maids fixed his appearance in the dressing room but he instead opted for this sort of 'mobile dressing room.'

Although it would seem that it was Maxwell who was the one to blame for this, in truth, he would have preferred to not get changed or fix his appearance in the first place, let alone having maids do it for him.

It was only because of his siblings that Maxwell had to go through this entire ordeal, all of whom expressed that his appearance must be 'distinguished and impeccable' whatever that was supposed to mean.

This was the sort of middle ground that they reached, if Maxwell didn't want to stop at the dressing room, then the maids would work on his appearance whenever possible.

While the maids continued to work on Maxwell's appearance, the juicy aroma of finely cooked pork finally reached his nose as he entered into the dining room.

Soon after the maids who were tending to him stoped just short of entering the dining room before returning to their other duties.

It was only Maxwell who entered the silence of the dining room.

As he moved closer to the dining table, he was surprised to find Erika at the dining table, enjoying her own meal as well.

"Your majesty, Maxwell."

Erika immediately stopped eating, stood up from her seat and bowed to Maxwell the moment she noticed his presence. With a shrug, Maxwell casually responded to the commander-in-chief.

"There is no need to be so formal. After all, we are not in public are we?"

As Maxwell expected, Erika responded in her respectful tone.

"Your majesty, forgive my rudeness but I believe that it is imperative that I always remain formal, lest I make a mistake in the future."

For some reason, Maxwell felt the sudden impulse to tease Erika. Perhaps it was because of his boredom but he really can't resist now that the opportunity revealed itself to him.

"So you're saying that you're not even competent enough to know when to be formal or informal?"

"Well that's... It's... I..."

His question completely stumped Erika. Although she is usually able to keep her composure, Maxwell discovered that she was prone to losing her composure whenever he was involved.

Soon Maxwell interrupted Erika as she scrambled to make a response.

"It's fine. I don't really mind such trivial and inconsequential details."

As Maxwell spoke, he took his seat at the head of the dining table.

"What I care about are the truly important subjects, the bigger picture so to speak. As long as your service continues to contribute to the prosperity and growth of Drussia, I will tolerate your attitude."

"I... I see."

When Erika made her short response, Maxwell has already turned all of his attention away from her and instead focused on the meal in front of him.

It was a relatively moderately sized dish.

Maxwell never choses what meals he wants be served, instead he prefers to let his chefs decide what meal would be best to serve to Maxwell. The only condition was that Maxwell cannot be served the exact same dish twice.

This ensured that Maxwell's tastebuds will always be subject to a new luscious meal every day.

Today, it would seem that Maxwell was served with some variant of pork cutlets.

From what Maxwell saw, there was multiple green herbs and spices which were spread evenly over the pork cutlets.

If Maxwell had to guess, then most of these herbs and spices were in fact exotic goods that were imported into Drussia, although he never really busied himself with the exact details. As with most things, he left matters such as these to his siblings.

Nevertheless, this didn't stop Maxwell from collecting his fork and knife as he proceeded to cut one of the cutlets into a smaller piece.

After cutting a small square piece out, Maxwell gently placed it into his mouth with his fork before he proceeded to slowly but surely cut it with the incisors of his mouth.

Instantly in that moment, the sweet juices of the pork flooded Maxwell's mouth as he sent the piece to his molars, grinding the piece of pork down with each successive bite.

All the while, Maxwell's senses were subjected to the savoury tastes of the pork.

And all of that was just one bite.

[Now this... this is what makes it all worth it.] Other than his innate desire to leave behind a long-lasting legacy, it was good food such as this that was one of Maxwell's motivators, as silly as it may sound.

"Delicious... Absolutely delicious..."

Just before Maxwell was able to take another bite, he heard a faint almost indiscernible sound of wood being scraped against the floor for a split second.

When he took a glance at Erika, he found that she was still sitting at her seat, enjoying her own dish of pork cutlets but he also felt that something was off.

It was almost as if she was slightly closer.

[What the?.. Did she just come closer?] It didn't take long for Maxwell to decipher what was going on. [Damn... it's one of those days isn't it?]

As Maxwell contemplated how to deal with this certain situation, he was instead saved by a third party.

"Your majesty, a parchment from the south has arrived. It seems to be an urgent message from Sicilia."

"Oh I see..."

Within his heart, Maxwell secretly thanked Sicilia for giving him what is essentially a 'get out of jail free card,' as he took the parchment from the servant.

"Bernard, can you ensure that the rest of my meal remains heated as it is sent to my private chambers? It seems that I will require some private time to analyse Sicilia's message."

"As you wish your majesty."

Maxwell didn't even glance at Erika to check what expression she had on her face as he moved to return to his room. Instead he turned his attention to the letter that was supposedly sent by Sicilia.

Since she was currently 'on a business trip' away from Drussia, her original message was probably sent by carrier pigeon before it was rewritten on parchment and sent to Maxwell.

As such, her message was quick and concise due to the constraints of her smaller writing space.

Her message read.

"Package secured.

Unexpected use found with package.

Package recommended for the Wraith Initiative."