Jobless Reincarnation: Live Seriously Even Without Transfer Events

In the same year, the Asura Empire fell.

Lecture 6: Lessons from History

(I) Power and public opinion

Looking back at the past 250 years, we have discovered a pattern: the nation's fortunes rise when a monarch wins the hearts of the people, and decline when a monarch loses the hearts of the people.

Ariel's introduction of the civil service examinations and the abolition of the prime minister won popular support, leading to a rise in the nation's fortunes. Auster's tyrannical rule and purges alienated the people, causing a decline in the nation's fortunes. Albrecht's repression and wasteful spending further alienated the people, leading to the nation's collapse.

What is public sentiment? It's not an abstract concept of "public opinion," but rather tangible things—food prices, tax burdens, employment, and fairness. When these things are good, public sentiment is stable; when these things are bad, public sentiment dissipates.

(II) Systems and Personnel

Some say, "History is created by people." Others say, "History is determined by systems." Asura's history tells us that both are true, but neither is entirely true.

Without a talent like Rudius, even the best system cannot be implemented; without the system designed by Ariel, even the most talented person has nowhere to display their abilities.

But more importantly: systems must be able to constrain talent, and talent must be able to improve systems. Why was Auster able to act with impunity in his later years? Because the system could not restrain him. Why was Albrecht able to ruin the country? Because he fundamentally disrespected the system.

(III) Final Reflections

Let's return to our initial question: What is power actually used for?

Gravel said: Power is meant to be crushed. He failed.

Auster said: Power is for pleasure. He failed too.

Albrecht said: Power is meant to be controlled. He still failed.

Ariel said: Power is for building. She succeeded, but did not have a good end.

Rudius said: Power is meant to be established. He succeeded, and the empire lasted for nearly two hundred years.

Therefore, my conclusion is:

Power itself has no meaning; it only has meaning when it is used to “create a better order.”

The Anemoi and Bereas dynasties provide us with a valuable point of reference. They tell us that systems can corrupt, people's hearts can change, and empires can fall. But some things are eternal: fairness, dignity, and hope.

No matter how times change, if rulers can do these three things, they will win the hearts of the people; if rulers cannot, even the most powerful empire will collapse.

---

[Conclusion]

History is a mirror, reflecting more than just the past.

The rise and fall of the Asura dynasty over 250 years, in essence, was the rise and fall of power. Gravel came to power through violence and lost to violence; Ariel came to power through popular support and also lost to the loss of popular support; Rudius came to power through ability and brought the empire to its peak, but his descendants used that ability to undermine the people's support.

After recounting this history, I often think of the day Colemanville abdicated. It is said that when he left the Silver Palace, a large crowd of people stood outside the palace gates, watching him. No one cheered, and no one threw stones. He simply walked through the crowd and headed into the countryside.

An emperor, stripped of his crown and returned to commoner's clothes.

At that moment, power returned to where it belonged.

"Lecture Room" - The Price of Power: The Mental History of the Two Asura Emperors

Speaker: Professor Meng Man

Institution: Department of History & Imperial Psychology Research, Imperial University of Arslan

Time: Spring of the 682nd year of the Kakuryong calendar

[Opening Remarks]

Hello everyone.

Today I'm going to tell a different story. Not about war, not about systems, not about reform. What I want to tell you is—what the person sitting in that chair is thinking.

When we read history, we always look at the big picture, the fate of nations, and the rise and fall of dynasties. But sometimes, we should stop and ask a simpler question: When you became emperor, were you happy?

Over 251 years of Asura's reign, there were 19 rulers (if you include Gravel and Rudius). I've done the math—less than half died peacefully. Less than a third died of natural causes. Perhaps only one person truly died a worthy death, without regret—Rudius.

What about the others? Some were imprisoned, some were poisoned, some fell from their horses on the battlefield, some were sidelined by powerful ministers while on their sickbeds, and some watched helplessly as the empire collapsed.

They gained power, but they also paid a price.

Lecture 1: The Lonely Regent – ​​Gravel's Nightmare

Throughout his life, Gravel believed in only one thing: power is everything.

His father, the late king, told him when he was very young: You are the eldest son, and you will inherit the throne. But Gravel soon discovered that inheriting the throne was not something that could be achieved simply by being the "eldest son."

He witnessed firsthand how his mother was suppressed by the Queen; he witnessed firsthand how his brother Halphas was favored by their father because of their mother; he witnessed firsthand how his sister Ariel, despite being a girl, was able to gain support from various factions.

Gravel came to the conclusion that there is no fairness in this world, only might makes right.

So he began his machinations. He won over the powerful minister Darius, and then eliminated him when Darius became too powerful to control; he suppressed Rob Nottos Grellat, using the city-destroying magic "Dragon's Breath" to flatten Grell; he installed his cronies, purged dissidents, and controlled the army. Every step he took was precise, every step was fraught with danger.

But he overlooked one thing: when you push away everyone who gets close to you, you're left with only yourself.

After Gravel was imprisoned, historical records only state: "His fate is unknown." "Unknown" implies that no one cared whether he lived or died. A man who once commanded the world left behind not even a decent record.

When he was in power, he wielded immense power; when he fell from power, he was ignored. This is the power of solitude.

Lecture 2: The Queen's Weariness – Why Did Ariel Die Young?

Ariel reigned for ten years, but it felt like fifty.

I've read Ariel's daily records from her later years and noticed a detail: during the last two years of her reign, she almost never left the royal chambers. It wasn't that she didn't want to move; it was that she could no longer move. Her body was like a lamp rapidly burning out; though only thirty, she looked like a sixty-year-old.

Why is she so tired?

First, she rose to power over her brother's corpse. After Gravel was imprisoned, Ariel personally ordered the execution of his followers. Some say she was decisive, some say she was ruthless. But has anyone considered what it must have felt like for a young woman in her twenties to uproot her own brother's power?

Secondly, she was caught between Rudeus and Luke. One helped her seize power, the other accompanied her through her youth. She used Rudeus to counterbalance Luke, and Luke to counterbalance Rudeus. This balancing act seemed perfect on paper, but in reality? Every day she had to meet with two groups of people, listen to two sets of arguments, and review two kinds of memorials. She was like a tightrope walker, one wrong step and she would fall.

Third, she gave birth to a "good-for-nothing" son. Edward was only eight years old when he ascended the throne and knew nothing. Ariel's biggest worry before her death was him. Holding Luke's hand, she said, "Support Edward well, and make good use of Rudius." This translates to, "After I die, you two shouldn't fight."

She was asking for a favor.

A queen, on her deathbed, is not entrusting her kingdom to others, but pleading with two men not to fight—what do you think she must have felt?

Ariel spent ten years building the framework of an empire, but it cost her her entire life.

Lecture 3: The Sober Mind of the Commoner Chancellor—Why Didn't Rudyus...

Rudius was an anomaly. Of all the rulers, he was the only one who truly understood that "power is a tool."

Look at his life: born in the village of Bouyena, married into the Boreas family, served as Minister of the Censorate, rose to the position of Regent, and held power for forty years. He killed more people than all the emperors of the past combined—hence the nickname "The Emperor's Butcher's Knife." But he never took that step: usurping the throne.

why?

I read a sentence in his diary (a fragment), written in the year 471 of the Kata'en calendar: "Power is like a knife; if you hold it too tightly, you will cut yourself; if you hold it too loosely, you will lose control."

This sentence stayed with him throughout his life.

Rudius was too clear-headed. He knew that once he acted rashly, he would immediately face three problems:

First, there's the issue of legitimacy. He came from the village of Bouyena and rose to power through marriage. In the eyes of those generations of nobles, he was a "nouveau riche." If he were to commit adultery, the legitimacy of the Boreas family would be called into question.

Second, the right of succession. He has three wives and six children. Who should succeed him? According to the eldest son, it should be Ars, but will the other children accept it? If the eldest son is not chosen, the entire imperial succession system will collapse.

Third, the balance of power. His current power is that of "Guanbai"—second only to the emperor and above all other officials. This position allows him to act without the burden of "imperial power." Afterwards, all his actions will be magnified; if he does something right, it's expected; if he does something wrong, he'll be labeled a "tyrant."

So he chose the smartest way: he would not become emperor himself, but let his son be emperor.

In this way, he retained his reputation as a "loyal minister" while ensuring the continuation of the Boreas family. After his death, his son posthumously honored him as Emperor Taizu Wulie. He had both the title and the reality.

This is what makes Rudius superior to other rulers—he knows when to withdraw from power at its zenith.

Lecture 4: The Twisted Crown – Why Auster Went From Wise Ruler to Tyrant

Auster marked a turning point in the Bereas dynasty. He ruled for forty-nine years, the first twenty being a wise ruler, the last twenty-nine a tyrant. How could one person stray so far down the same path?

My research into his psychological changes revealed a key turning point: Sieghart died in 520 AD (the year of the Ankylosaurus calendar).

Who is Siegfried? He is Rudius's son, Ars's brother, and the commander of the northern expedition. He is a highly decorated and prestigious general. More importantly, he is Auster's uncle, and the person Auster fears most.

While Sieghart was alive, Auster could still maintain a semblance of respect. After all, he held military power, prestige, and seniority. But with Sieghart's death, the fear that Auster had suppressed for decades was suddenly unleashed—not that the fear disappeared, but that it transformed into anger.

He began to clean.

Sieghart's descendants, generals, and confidants were all executed. Sieghart's great-granddaughter, Fitz, was only fifteen years old when she was also hanged. Auster's reason was "collusion with the Holy Kingdom of Milis," but everyone could see that this was a purge, a revenge, and the culmination of years of pent-up resentment.

Why does he hate Sieghart so much?

Sieghart's existence constantly reminded Auster of one thing: "You, as emperor, built your empire on the backs of your grandfather and uncle. And what about yourself? What have you accomplished?"

The greatest fear for an emperor is being told, "You are not qualified to sit on this throne." The more meritorious Sieghart was, the more Auster felt that he was "unworthy of the title." Therefore, the first thing Auster had to do after Sieghart's death was to prove that "I am the one who calls the shots in this country."

But the way he proved it was through murder, extortion, and wasteful exploitation of the people. The more he tried to prove it, the more he exposed his weakness.

Auster lived the latter half of his life in self-doubt, wondering if he was a good emperor. Every time he killed someone, he was trying to convince himself: I am the emperor, and I am in charge.

However, power is not proven by killing. Power is proven by governing. Auster never understood this.

Lecture 5: The Conscience of the Last Emperor – Corenville's Choice

Correnville was the last emperor of the Boreas dynasty. When he ascended the throne, the empire was already on the verge of collapse.

He did three things: abolished the detached palace, reduced expenditures, and issued an edict soliciting honest opinions. He was an emperor who knew where the problem lay and what to do—but what he didn't know was that once the people's hearts are lost, they can never be regained.

In the year 675 of the Ankylon calendar, the rebel army besieged the city. Coleman did not resist. He could have chosen to fight to the last breath and be remembered in history as a martyr; he could have chosen to flee and eke out a living in some remote place. But he chose a third path—

He abdicated and then went into seclusion in the countryside to become a farmer.

Historical records state that after his abdication, Colemanville lived a life of poverty. He was sometimes seen working in the fields, dressed in a worn-out linen garment, indistinguishable from the other farmers.

This reminds me of someone: Emperor Xian of Han in China. He was also the last emperor, also abdicated, and also remained a commoner for the rest of his life. But Emperor Xian was forced to abdicate, while Coleman—according to records—was willing.

Colombell's choice illustrates a principle: when power can no longer benefit people, letting go is also a form of wisdom.

He may not have been a good emperor, but he was at least a good man. Amidst the ruins of a collapsing empire, he preserved his conscience.

Lecture 6: The Mirror of History

Having discussed these people, I want to return to the initial question: When you became emperor, were you happy?

Gravel was unhappy. He exhausted all his emotions in the power struggle and died alone in prison.

Ariel was unhappy. She overworked herself and died at the age of thirty, pleading with others not to fight amongst themselves.

Rudius—he might have been a little happy. Because he was too clear-headed, clear-headed enough to know that power is merely a tool, and the pleasure of a tool lies in its use, not in its possession.

Auster was unhappy. He spent the rest of his life filling the void in his heart with killing, but the more he tried to fill it, the emptier he became.

Colombell—he may not have been happy either. But within his unhappiness lay a sense of relief. He had finally shed that heavy crown.

What is power?

It is a mirror. Power magnifies the kind of person you are. Gravel's ruthlessness, Ariel's weariness, Rudius's clarity, Auster's fear, Coleman's conscience—power did not change them, but merely exposed their truest selves without reservation.

Therefore, when evaluating a period of history, instead of asking "what did they do right" or "what did they do wrong," it's better to ask another question:

If I were sitting in that chair, what would I become?

There is no standard answer to this question. But asking this question is the beginning of our understanding of history and ourselves.

[Conclusion]

Two hundred and fifty-one years, nineteen rulers. Some were wise, some were foolish, some were benevolent, and some were tyrannical. But ultimately, they were all human beings—human beings who could get tired, fearful, lonely, and regretful.

The significance of history lies not in remembering what they did right, nor in criticizing what they did wrong. The significance of history lies in showing us that power can make or break a person; it can illuminate or devour them.

The Anemoi and Bereas dynasties are now history. But what they left behind were not ruins, but mirrors.

When we look in this mirror, we see not only them, but also ourselves.

Lecture Room: Empire in the Tides – Revelation of Social Changes in the Two Dynasties of Asura

Speaker: Professor Qian Wenzhong

Institution: Department of Social and Economic History, Imperial University of Arsène

Time: Summer of the 684th year of the Kakuryō calendar

[Opening Remarks]

Hello everyone.

I've studied history my whole life and come to this conclusion: the main characters of history have never been emperors and generals, but rather farmers on the land, artisans in the city, and street vendors.

In our previous two lectures, Professor Yan discussed systems and war, and Professor Meng Man talked about the mind of emperors. Today, I'll take a different perspective and tell the story of ordinary people. Because—the rise and fall of an empire, in the final analysis, is about whether tens of millions of people are living well.

So today I won't talk about how Gravel acted as regent, how Rudius governed, or how Auster was tyrannical. I'll talk about: How much wheat can the village of Bouyenne harvest in a year? How much does a bushel of rice cost in Roja? Is a worker's daily wage enough to buy five loaves of bread?

These seemingly trivial questions are the real answer to the rise and fall of Asura's two dynasties.