Clang, clang, clang.
With the clanging of armor, Toleo entered, leading his knights.
"My lord, it seems the time has come to act."
Behind him came Baron Connolly, the commander of the Capital Guards.
"Lord Marquis, the Capital Guards are fully prepared."
All the troops in the capital were mobilizing. The Marquis' vassals, tasked with overseeing the entire capital, had quickly identified and corrected any anomalies.
Marquis Branford still remained silent. He seemed lost in deep thought.
Toleo, growing impatient, urged him again.
"My lord, the preparations to capture the superhuman are also complete. The commander of the Royal Knights... will be hindered because of His Majesty. We must act swiftly."
"Yes, I suppose we must," the Marquis finally responded as he rose from his seat.
Their first target was to subdue the Royal Knights and the palace guards. Without doing so, the nobles who supported him would all perish.
Even so, Marquis Branford hesitated to give the order.
— How are you any different from her?!
That accusation echoed endlessly in his mind.
He had spent his life working for the royal family and the kingdom. He had planned to retire after this war was over.
How did it come to this?
To think that he, who had always worked under the pretense of protecting the royal family, was now about to storm the royal palace.
With a heavy sigh, he finally spoke.
"... Begin."
At his command, all the forces in the capital began to move.
"Attack!"
The capital guards, poised and ready, launched a rapid assault on the palace guards who had been gathering.
The palace guards, preparing to attack Marquis Branford, were caught completely off guard. They had not anticipated being ambushed first.
"Defend!"
The palace guards struggled to fend off the advancing forces but were overwhelmed.
From the outset, the Capital Guards greatly outnumbered the palace guards. It was only a matter of time before they were subdued.
"Charge!"
The Capital Guards, shouting war cries, quickly seized the palace. Behind them entered the knights and soldiers of the Marquis' household.
They were not alone. Knights loyal to the nobles who supported Marquis Branford also began to pour in.
The Royal Knights and Flaccus, who had just finished assembling and were ready to act, were taken aback.
They immediately attempted to apprehend Marquis Branford. If they could take him hostage, the other nobles would be powerless.
But to think they would be caught off guard first. Despite all their careful preparations, they had been exposed.
The commander of the Royal Knights, Count Palantz, unsheathed his sword and shouted.
"What are you doing?! This is treason!"
Toleo, leading the knights, responded.
"Weren't you planning to strike us first?"
"You insolent... Have you forgotten who I am?!"
Snap!
Count Palantz, emanating a formidable energy, took a step forward.
He was a sword master, capable of single-handedly cutting down thousands of soldiers.
But Toleo merely smirked and replied.
"I am also a high-level knight. We also have far more knights on our side. We can hold you back. But... in the meantime, I do wonder about His Majesty's safety."
"You... scoundrel," Count Palantz growled, clenching his teeth.
He couldn't act rashly. If he fought here, the others would take the opportunity to capture the king. He was forced to defend this position.
Even the priest of the Salvation Church standing beside him, a superhuman in his own right, was severely weakened from healing the king. He could not take on the overwhelming forces present on his own.
All the elite knights in the capital had gathered here. If a fight broke out, both sides would suffer, and the king would perish.
While they were stuck in this deadlock, the king, Berhem, emerged from his chambers.
Shaking with rage and fear, he yelled.
"You vile scoundrels... How dare you attempt regicide?!"
His face was a mix of anger and terror.
Having only recently regained his health, he had just begun to feel like a true king with power and authority.
But to think the traitors would attack him first!
"Bring me Marquis Branford! Summon that traitor immediately!"
No one responded. Even they hesitated to lay hands on the king first.
The person who needed to give that order had not yet arrived.
As everyone silently watched the raging Berhem, Marquis Branford appeared.
"Your Majesty."
"You! How dare you attack me! What is the meaning of this?!"
Marquis Branford gazed at the king with a conflicted expression and asked in a subdued voice.
"Why did you do it?"
"Do you ask because you don't know?! You have defied my will at every turn! You acted as if you were the king!"
"It was for the sake of the kingdom and the royal family."
"Silence! I am the kingdom! I am the royal family! Do you think this kingdom can function properly without me?! Without me, there is no meaning!"
At these words, Marquis Branford closed his eyes.
He had known for a long time that the king had been warped beyond repair. It must have stemmed from the deprivation of the privileges he should have enjoyed as a king.
That deprivation had ultimately left him unfit to rule.
As Marquis Branford remained silent, Berhem pointed a trembling finger at him.
"You are a traitor! If this was your plan, why did you stop the Duke's forces?! You claim to protect the royal family, but how are you any different from the Duke's faction?!"
"..."
Marquis Branford could not respond.
Although the Duke's forces had aimed for the royal family, they had successfully governed the southern regions. Until the Salvation Church and the rifts appeared, the South had been the most prosperous and livable region.
In that case, there had been no need to stop the Duke's forces—unless he intended to become king himself.
But Branford had no desire to become king.
'No, I cannot.'
To attack the royal family would mean denying his lifelong beliefs. It would render all his actions, taken under the pretense of serving the royal family, utterly hypocritical.
Yet, the king had allied with the Salvation Church, who brought chaos to the continent and took countless lives.
Even if the kingdom didn't fall to the Duke's forces, Berhem on the throne would leave it vulnerable to attacks from other kingdoms and the Four Great Churches.
'This kingdom is doomed.'
Marquis Branford chuckled bitterly. He had tried desperately to prevent the royal family's downfall, but he had failed.
Ultimately, he blamed his own inadequacies.
He had come here for only one reason.
"Your Majesty."
"What? Are you preparing your final words? I will haunt you as a ghost! I will curse your family for eternity!"
Berhem, convinced he had won, spat venomous words.
But what Marquis Branford said next shocked everyone.
"I think it's time for me to step down."
"W-What?"
Everyone, including Berhem, was stunned. They had all assumed this conflict could only end with death.
With a serene smile, Marquis Branford continued.
"I have one request."
"W-What is it?"
"I came here for one reason: to ensure that today's events are forgiven and that all the nobles who followed me are pardoned. If Your Majesty makes this proclamation publicly here and now, I will immediately step down and leave."
Marquis Branford had exerted his strength against the king to achieve this goal.
If he were captured without resistance, the nobles who followed him would have no choice but to fight for their survival.
But this way, it could end peacefully. At least for now, no one needed to die.
Berhem's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Marquis Branford commanded far too many troops.
What if he changed his mind later? If that army turned its swords against him, there would be no stopping them.
"Where will you go?" Berhem asked cautiously.
The question reminded Marquis Branford of an old memory.
He, too, had once asked the same question, out of curiosity and fear. The answer then had been:
— Anywhere but the royal family.
Recalling this, Marquis Branford chuckled. Perhaps he had been walking the same path as her all along.
"Anywhere but the royal family."
Perhaps the Shadow Knight Commander had always harbored a desire to leave as well.
Only now did he begin to understand her heart.
After a moment's thought, Berhem, his face flushed, made his decision.
"Stay in the capital. I will place you under house arrest, and neither you nor the nobles who followed you will face further punishment."
Marquis Branford looked at Berhem again.
It was fear. The king was terrified of him slipping out of his sight.
Though his freedom was stripped away, it didn't matter. He already knew how this story would end.
So, he nodded.
"As you wish."
"Prime Minister, commander-in-chief Marquis Macquarie, Chief Justice Count Norton, and Count Ailesbur—"
Berhem rattled off the names of the powerful nobles who had followed Branford.
"They will also receive the same treatment. Understood?"
"So be it," Branford agreed.
"Good, good. In the end, you've shown loyalty," Berhem said with a cruel smile.
He had easily neutralized the high-ranking nobles. Never had he expected things to resolve so smoothly.
Only those loyal to him would remain. The true royalist faction.
Berhem spread his arms wide and declared.
"I proclaim it! Lay down your arms and return home! As promised, today's events will be forgiven!"
All the commanders who had followed Marquis Branford turned to him.
"My lord..."
"Do as he says. It is over now. I need rest."
Marquis Branford bowed slightly to Berhem and turned away, his heart heavy.
"This is truly the end."
The kingdom he had tried so desperately to protect had met its end. No, more precisely, the royal family had met its end.
It would not be the Duke's faction that destroyed the royal family.
Nor the Salvation Church, nor other kingdoms, nor the Four Great Churches.
'Indeed, there is no one more suited for that task.'
Ghislain Perdium.
The shackles that had bound him were now gone.
Thus, he would sever the lifeline of the royal family.
As Marquis Branford strode forward, knights and commanders turned and followed him.
Berhem ground his teeth as he watched them leave.
They all still followed Marquis Branford. The same would likely be true of other nobles.
But it didn't matter.
'Once I have complete power, I won't let them be.'
For now, he couldn't move against them. He had made the proclamation with his own mouth.
The time wasn't right yet. Once he replaced all the commanders and fully consolidated his power, he could act.
Until then, those scoundrels would keep their lives. When the time came, he could find an appropriate pretext to kill them.
"Phew…"
Taking a deep breath, Berhem turned to Flaccus with a self-satisfied expression.
"Well? Didn't I resolve everything?"
"You are truly magnificent, Your Majesty. Worthy of being the ruler of this kingdom."
"That scoundrel still had some sense, fortunately. So then, can you now turn me into a superhuman?"
"About that, Your Majesty, I will need many prisoners. Their life force will strengthen your body."
"Very well, very well. That is no issue. Begin tomorrow. If you need more, just say so. This entire kingdom belongs to me, after all."
"Understood, Your Majesty. And I ask that the promised negotiations proceed quickly. We need 'that' to ensure your body remains strong."
"Don't worry about that. I'll recall the troops and replace the commanders. After that, I'll hand over the royal treasure."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Flaccus said, bowing his head, a sly grin spreading across his face. Things were progressing even more smoothly than he had anticipated.
***
"Something's not right."
Ghislain tilted his head in confusion.
Even accounting for the time needed for reorganization, this was far too late. By now, the kingdom's army should have arrived, but there had been no word.
Parts of the allied forces had already reached their designated positions and were waiting for the operation to begin.
But with the kingdom's army failing to appear, the northern forces could do nothing but continue to wait.
"Something must have happened… Send a messenger to find out what's going on. Dark, you go with them and report back to me directly."
At Ghislain's command, the messengers departed. After waiting several days, an envoy from the royal family arrived.
The envoy delivered a shocking message.
"The commander of the northern army is to step down, by royal decree. The northern army is to be disbanded, and the troops are to return to their respective territories."
"...What?"
Ghislain tilted his head again, thinking he had misheard.
"Say that again. What did you just say?"
His words came out harsher than intended, as the absurdity of the statement set in. The envoy twitched his lips several times at the disrespect but repeated himself.
"The northern army is to be disbanded. Commander, you are to return to your territory."
Ghislain's expression darkened.
"Whose orders are these?"
"They come from Marquis Branford, with unanimous agreement from all the nobles."
"Why?"
"Because they are entering peace negotiations with the Duke's faction."
"Negotiations? Negotiations?"
"Yes. It's said to be a gesture to relieve the suffering of the kingdom's people and bring an end to the war…"
As the envoy droned on, Ghislain folded his arms.
Marquis Branford would never do such a thing. Even if the Marquis had proposed it, Maurice would never have agreed.
If they entered peace negotiations now, it was certain the other kingdoms and the Four Great Churches would target them. Why would they do something so foolish?
They knew Ghislain would never approve of such a plan.
"Tell me the truth. What happened in the capital?"
"W-What are you talking about?"
Ghislain rose from his seat. It seemed he would need to draw out some tears to get an honest answer.
Just then, Dark, who had accompanied the messengers, spoke to Ghislain in his thoughts.
— Master, the kingdom's army is retreating. A sudden order came from the capital.
Hearing this, Ghislain turned to the envoy.
The envoy stood stiffly, seemingly still unaware of the situation.
"I said, tell me the truth. I'm not a patient person."
"This document bears the royal seal! What more is there to say?!"
The envoy raised his voice. While Marquis Branford had signed off on it, royal orders ultimately came from the king.
The envoy couldn't understand why Ghislain was reacting this way.
He had heard Ghislain had a reputation for being reckless, but…
The envoy's mistake was underestimating just how reckless Ghislain could be.
"Something must have happened," Ghislain muttered to himself before pulling a hand axe from his belt.
Then, without warning, he struck the envoy's shoulder.
Crunch!
"Aaaargh!"
"Talk."
"A-Argh! What… is…!"
Crunch!
This time, Ghislain struck the other shoulder. The envoy, bleeding profusely, dropped to his knees.
"Please, spare me! Spare me!"
The envoy begged, tears and snot streaming down his face. He hadn't expected such sudden violence.
Crouching down, Ghislain looked the envoy in the eyes and asked.
"Tell me what happened. I told you, I'm not patient."
"T-That is…"
Crunch!
Once again, the axe buried itself into the wounded shoulder. The envoy screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Aaaargh! I'll talk! I'll talk! Marquis Branford has been ousted!"
"What?"
"T-The king has regained his health! And now the nobles…!"
The envoy confessed everything that had transpired. He told of how an unknown mage had healed the king, how the king had pushed for peace negotiations with the Duke's faction, and how Marquis Branford had opposed him.
Marquis Branford could have deposed the king but chose to step down instead. All the nobles who had supported him were now under house arrest.
In short, the capital was now controlled solely by the king and the nobles loyal to him.
They had recalled the kingdom's army and were in the process of replacing its commanders.
After hearing the full account, Ghislain chuckled to himself.
"So that's how it is."
"Yes, yes! So, Commander, please follow His Majesty's decree…"
Thud.
"Urk."
Ghislain grabbed the envoy by the neck. It seemed the king didn't know him very well.
Sending this as a royal decree was proof enough of that.
With a fierce grin, Ghislain muttered.
"It seems it's time for the king to die."
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]