Dismantling the Demon King's Army (3)
A white blouse paired with a slightly short skirt. The sight felt out of place, but one thing was clear—they were young girls.
And yet, the results those girls brought were—devastating.
"We've taken care of everyone here, Lady Sisilia."
Lizbeth couldn't believe the reality unfolding before her.
'My brother wouldn't have let them half-ass this. ...These people are definitely knights.'
But those knights looked like children playing pretend.
It wasn't anything flashy. The girls' movements were simple.
The blonde one had at least knocked them down with some flair.
The silver-haired one, though? She never ran or made any big moves from start to finish.
She just strolled along leisurely, dodging swords when they came, then tapping back lightly.
Those light taps alone crumbled the enemies.
Twenty knights had been neutralized by nothing more than those simple actions.
"Im... impossible."
Yeah, it was impossible.
Was it even feasible to fight sword-wielding knights without jumping once? And those two were bare-handed. They hadn't even drawn the swords at their waists.
"Who... who the hell are you? What are you?!"
The man who seemed to be the leader shouted, tears welling in his eyes.
"This can't happen against twenty Experts! It shouldn't be possible!"
No mistake about it. Even an idiot could see the massive gap between those girls and themselves.
No matter how hard they swung, it felt like flailing in water.
It was a horrific experience. A lifetime of swordsmanship, their pride—shattered to pieces.
Beatrice approached Sisilia, glancing at him as she asked,
"Shall I kill them?"
"No."
Sisilia replied with a blank expression.
"Can't blame folks for doing what it takes to eat. Unless they're demons, anyway."
"Kill us."
The man gritted his teeth.
"We won't spill any info."
But his desperate words seemed to fall on deaf ears.
"Y'know, my swordmaster taught me something. Leaving loose ends is for fools."
"But Betty's a fool, so maybe it's fine?"
"...Lady Sisilia?"
Sisilia looked at Beatrice and curled her lips up.
"They're not demon-related, so no need to kill."
She clasped her hands behind her back and walked over to Lizbeth.
She extended a hand to the girl, slumped in defeat.
"You got lucky."
Lizbeth took Sisilia's hand and stood, still dazed.
Sisilia's plain tone made her seem like any ordinary girl. Hard to believe she'd just floored dozens of knights.
Sisilia held up a single finger.
"But a cute young lady wandering remote mountain paths like this? Dangerous. Be more careful next time."
Only then did Lizbeth snap out of it and bow her head.
"Th-thank you for saving me."
"No biggie."
Sisilia smiled kindly, then glanced back.
"Betty! Wrap 'em up and let's go!"
"It's restraining, not wrapping!"
As they turned to leave, Lizbeth hurriedly asked,
"I can't just let my lifesavers go like this. At least tell me your names."
Beatrice pondered a fake name, but Sisilia rendered it pointless.
"Vice-Captain of the 24th Windsor Knight Order of the Liannen Kingdom."
Sisilia boldly revealed her identity.
"Sisilia Windsor."
Beatrice's eyes widened at the declaration in what was practically enemy territory now.
Lizbeth's eyes widened for a different reason. She knew the name.
"-An unbelievably beautiful girl unbelievably beat up the Seventh Prince. If the god of violence exists—she'd be it."
One of Lizbeth's retainers had been in the Seventh Prince's delegation back then. Lizbeth had always been curious about the Liannen Kingdom.
And that story had stuck with her, leaving one name etched in her mind.
'...He's right. I'm lucky.'
The emperor had tested her fate.
He'd sent her on this impossible mission to sort out the hopeless succession.
With the crown prince's interference obvious, could Lizbeth alone navigate the peril and secure aid from Liannen?
Even though diplomats already in Liannen could have sent word via crystal orb, he'd tormented her by making her go personally.
To lead the empire, talent mattered, but so did being born lucky.
"Please."
But in Sisilia's eyes, it was a blunder.
Right now, the emperor had no time to test fates.
Staring at distant threats while tripping over obstacles right in front was more foolish than looking only ahead.
"Save our empire in crisis."
Lizbeth had proven her fate. Passed the emperor's test with flying colors.
But.
"Salvation comes at a steep price. Can the empire afford it?"
The empire had failed Professor Sisilia's group project.
"...We'll accept any price. The empire can't afford to be picky now."
Still, for the cute class rep's sake, no total zero. Just some grade deductions—fair and square, Professor Sisilia judged.
**
A week since Lizbeth's dispatch.
The imperial palace was shrouded in heavy silence.
"Cr-Crembritt Territory has fallen."
"...The front lines can't hold. We must commit everything at Ruenhart..."
The demons' ravages grew fiercer by the day.
Each morning brought despairing news to the palace.
"Any word from L-Lizbeth?"
"Her Highness's status—"
"Your Majesty, Lizbeth is dead."
The crown prince said with a meaningful smile.
In that moment, every noble and the emperor realized: the crown prince had won the throne.
"It's such a dangerous place. Her survival odds are minuscule."
Factions dissolved in an instant. With Lizbeth dead, the crown prince was next emperor for sure.
The current emperor's health was frail too. He could pass any day.
"Scrap the Liannen aid request. Pull southern forces north immediately."
Most nobles flocked to the crown prince.
Once the war ended, he'd seize all power. No fools bet against the winner.
Thus, his "southern reinforcements" became consensus.
"...This must be fate."
The emperor accepted it.
Rebelling now would split the empire in two.
That much he could prevent. The empire endured.
Without internal strife, it could weather any external storm—even at great cost.
"B-but what of the Holy Nation? They won't miss this chance."
"Other kingdoms' independence movements are fierce. If southern deterrence weakens, they might form a coalition..."
A few realists objected, but the crown prince silenced them.
"Holy Nation, coalition—they won't move till we crush the demons!"
Utter nonsense, no logic or realism.
But he had momentum.
"Even if they come, we've got a month. Drive out demons first, then handle them one by one!"
No one could stop the crown prince, now swollen with support.
Southern reinforcements passed swiftly, orders issued.
It'd take about a month for them to arrive.
"Buy that time, and we win."
But a week later, not even a month—
"R-Ruenhart Fortress—"
People couldn't believe it.
"Is on the verge of falling."
Ruenhart Fortress.
Known as the natural stronghold, closest to the capital.
If it fell, few defensible forts remained.
And none matched Ruenhart's efficacy.
"N-no time left."
"How? Just 100,000 troops! How can 100,000 breach Ruenhart—in a week?!"
They'd banked on southern forces arriving to fix everything.
But if Ruenhart crumbled first? Pointless.
Utterly unacceptable despair.
"Cough—"
"!"
"Y-Your Majesty!"
Stress? Or his illness worsening?
As Ruenhart's fall loomed—the emperor collapsed.
The empire, with nearly a millennium of history, crumbled.
**
"Where... did it all go wrong?"
His illness deepened; the emperor lay abed, breaths ragged.
Time was short—he felt it instinctively.
"...My judgment was wrong."
'Too late.' The word lingered in his chest.
But he couldn't accept a millennium-old empire's fall, denying it desperately.
Couldn't bow a hegemon to a puny kingdom's vassalage.
"There must've been a chance."
When Gartan fell, he'd glimpsed the empire's grim future.
Unequal treaty beat extinction.
He'd chosen it.
But pride interfered.
Couldn't just beg Liannen.
So amid crisis, he'd tested succession with Lizbeth.
Instead of using every means himself to seal the treaty.
Last pride's consequence: empire's doom.
The current crown prince couldn't salvage this.
"Regretful."
Belated remorse arrived.
But with it—relief.
Not in his reign. After he passed, under the crown prince.
"My era ends here."
He rang the bedside bell.
For final words.
"Emperor of the Eldrashon Empire, Liyor V, decrees."
He intoned calmly.
With some regret, apology—and securing the throne for the crown prince.
"The next heir to the throne—"
"I've always thought it tragic."
He couldn't continue.
Daring to interrupt an emperor's deathbed words.
Furious, he turned.
And froze at the sight.
Not his guardian knight or maid.
A silver-haired girl he'd never seen.
"How so many rulers die without seeing the ends of their choices."
Sisilia placed a hand on his heart.
She smiled meaningfully.
"I'm merciful."
His lifeless pupils dilated.
Then filled with horror.
The crushing lethargy lifted, replaced by youthful vigor.
"I'll give you a chance."
Slowly, he turned to her.
Her silver eyes were unbelievably beautiful—and terrifying enough to make limbs tremble.
"Not long, but you can live another year."
Emperor Liyor V of Eldrashon thought:
This is a devil.
A devil in human skin.
"Watch it. The results of your choices."