As a rule, when young people accomplished something others could hardly imagine, they could not help wanting to show it off.
That was perfectly normal. Such was the nature of youth: they longed for recognition, for praise, and for a chance to prove their worth before everyone.
But if someone very young achieved something truly remarkable without boasting about it, that meant the feat others considered so impressive was hardly worth mentioning in that person's own eyes.
They must have an even greater goal, must be planning something even grander.
Only when a person's horizons had already extended beyond their present achievements could they remain so indifferent to the glory before them.
Just as someone who had already crossed a towering mountain would not take pride in climbing a small hill, their gaze was already fixed on peaks farther away.
And now, the emperor had met just such a young man.
His intuition, honed by years of judging people, left him certain that Greg was the person who had saved the entire Imperial Capital that night and called himself an emissary of the Goddess of Night.
So he's this young.
Knowing that his daughter Wendy was following a young man with such limitless prospects, rather than an old fellow his own age, put him considerably more at ease.
The emperor also suspected that Greg's continued concealment of his identity, despite achieving so much at such a young age, might have something to do with that Goddess of Night he had never heard of before.
That mysterious Church, that unprecedented power, and the composure he had seen in Greg, so at odds with his age-all of it pointed to one conclusion:
This young man may be carrying some important mission.
But regardless, since Greg had not volunteered the truth, the emperor