Year 3455 After Rostdor's foundation, fifth prince Imperial private chambers.
Caesar couldn't help but sigh, a weary old and tired sigh. Standing now at 10 years of age, all his dreams fell to the ground like a house of cards. His future seemed bleak. Very very bleak.
The Empire he was born to... Was dying. Well, it was more accurate to say that it died a couple decades ago, and now it's rotten corpse stood still, waiting for someone to just give it a small push before completely crumbling.
The empire stood alone as the only country in the one of five continents of the world: the continent being called Rostdoria, had a rough G shape and was considered the cradle of civilization: The Rostdorian Empire, born in this continent was the origin of most civilized cultures. They colonized every single other continent and brought their way of thinking, their laws, their culture and technology to all the other continents.
It was truly a world-spaning empire at some point. It never fully occupied the whole world, of course, but it was sure to say that one quarter of the world belonged to them a couple centuries ago. One in every three people belonged to the empire, they were glorious times.
But that was roughly 400 years ago. Nowadays only the central continent remained as the Rostdorian Empire, it's colonies had long become independent and the nation was weared down by innumerable wars. The most recent one being a civil war, 33 years ago, that killed off the previous "mad" emperor and put Caesar Aurelian Von Rostffen on the throne, his father.
Basically, it was an anachronistic nation. Every country in the world was advancing, republics and democracies were the norm and even the few remaining monarchies and theocracies were mostly parliamentary. This world's technology could be described as 1890s -ish. There were a few inconsistencies here and there but the norm was that. Trains, telegraphs and even some of the first cars were seeing the light of day.
That being the case, the political climate of Rostdor was a complete mess. There were currently three factions, all fighting for power within the senate that was composed of two consuls, 8 Tribunes, and 12 edils, aside of course from the 300 senators, each senator representing a province of the country.
The three factions were the main problem:
The patricians: wealthy and centennial old families that held the rights to land and it's usage just like feudal lords, they allegedly managed the territory and it's taxation in name of the emperor, but they were basically small fiefdoms with the typical Duke>Marquis>Count>Viscount>Baron landed titles, and the knights.
The bourgeoisie: the wealthiest merchants that controlled the flow of raw materials, it's production and price as well as it's transportation and exportation or importation.
The plebe: the common people of Rostdor, the average man that served as manpower for every single thing. Their faction had gained a lot of traction due to the invention of gunpowder based weapons recently.
Overall, the patricians wanted to retain the status quo and we're in charge of the Legions, after all they were the nominal generals and commanders of the army.
The bourgeoisie wanted to take the patricians out of the picture, getting rid this way of their province based taxes and making themselves the de facto new patricians, money moves the world and poor nobles can't threaten wealthy merchants enough.
And the plebe wanted to change, they wanted to go back to the root of Rostdor, to become a republican country once again, or even better: to become a commune. A workers commune without the pesky merchants and vile nobles.
All in all, these three were the most important factions of Rostdorian politics.
There was just a small problem: The emperor was nowhere to be seen. He had no say to the patricians nor to the merchants. The people respected him but as a spiritual leader. The emperor had the same value and importance as the national flag. He was there to meet and greet important people, give a couple speeches and that was it. People did not care for his opinions or commands.
Maybe... I could survive by becoming a cardinal of the Imperial cult? After all, it's the dominant religion of this world.
Even tho the colonies long abandoned the mainland, their respect for the teachings of the divine cult and the Emperor still went a long way. It wasn't to the extent of wanting to rejoin or anything, but they respected the spiritual leader.
The main problem was... Guns. This world, had mana. Magic and aura. Which, in itself, wasn't something entirely shocking, having transmigrated and such. But the main problem was their scope: mana could very well be used for casting a fireball, but the problem is that an artillery shell was cheaper, had a LOT more range and was more destructive than what mages were capable off. Sadly enough, mana in this world wasn't abundant enough for anyone to cast a mini-nuke or anything similar. Long gone were the days of wizards, sages and warlocks. Nowadays magic was a science: mana was turned into waves that the human mind could interact to form some sort of psychic power, one that was impressive but not omnipotent. The most efficient use of mages nowadays was to fit them up with sniper rifles, make them fly using equipment fit for amplifying magic, and enchant bullets with small runes. The mages on the army were mostly a newly formed air force. They could do recon, transmit messages telepathically and do mostly air support just fine. The problem is that the guns that were being produced were just... Better. There were no planes yet, but mages would he soon put out of a job in the army.
And knights with aura followed the same path. You could not grow indefinitely. You could train your mana and aura just like you could train your lungs and muscles, but there's a limit to everything. You could learn to hold your breath for 15 minutes, but you couldn't breathe underwater. Same for mana and aura. You could envelope your body with either, and you could easily withstand bullets. But how many? Maybe 20. 40 if you were to hone it to a tee. But what about an artillery shell? Machine gun fire? Even concentrated fire from a squad could kill most knights before they could even approach them.
Caesar himself had honed mana, easily as well thanks to his heritage, he was an olympic level athlete at 10 years old, he could run incredibly fast, but still wasn't fast enough to outrun bullets. He could maybe win against an isolated squad or a small position. But he couldn't evade bullets, and even if he protected himself the rate of fire was too much.
And think about snipers! You wouldn't be constantly covering yourself with mana or aura, that would be like being constantly using your full strength to just walk, making you incredibly tired after 10 minutes. On an unsuspecting situation, he could get shot before he could even protect himself with mana or aura...
Which made everything pointless. He kept training on them because being an olympic athlete when your life's in danger is better than being an average guy, but he was realistic: he could not singlehandedly win wars or quench rebellions.
Suddenly, a knock came on the door. He knew who it was before even hearing the high-pitched voice.
-Your radiance and warmth, this humble servant presents itself to your presence in relations to your daily duty of learning with Kophanacles, the Imperial tutor.
He sighed again. Everyone had this convoluted way of talking to him, with so many honorifics... Being a prince was more tedious than imagined.
-Fiora, I will attend sir Kophanacles class when it's due time, we still have half an hour before that.
Answering without even opening the door could be considered bad manners, but his nanny just replied:
-Your radiance and warmth, we need to select today's outfit so it is becoming of a royal prince! Half an hour is too little time.
Caesar sighed again and looked at his room full of books.
He was too old for this.