Change (2)
While standing guard at the rehearsal ceremony, Grirwell von Raider, the captain of the Imperial Knights, was busy stealing glances at Duke Valentia whenever he could. He'd already awkwardly saluted twice after their eyes met by chance.
'Damn it.'
He knew he couldn't let it show, but he couldn't help himself.
'That man's the biggest variable in all this. Before he makes a move, we have to eliminate all the imperial family members except Tinel.'
Whenever unease crept in, he fiddled with the three orbs tucked in his bosom. They emitted no energy even to his senses. Astonishingly, they hadn't triggered the imperial barrier, which reacted to demon worshippers and dangerous artifacts. They looked utterly ordinary on the surface, but these were the core of the grand undertaking.
"Inject mana to awaken it, and a 6th-circle destroyer will be summoned. It's a special masterpiece that gentleman personally labored over."
"Once the barrier is altered to suppress the imperial family's mana instead of demonic energy as planned, we'll initiate the undertaking. At that moment, hurl the destroyer's orb at the Sword Emperor. With the barrier's interference gone, it'll hold off those superhumans for a while."
"Since it's just a rehearsal, it might be best to lure Duke Valentia away entirely and unleash them then. In the meantime, you just need to kill the surviving imperial family members alongside the ones we've planted."
"The signal for the undertaking? Heh, you'll know when the time comes."
What troubled him slightly was that he didn't know how the undertaking would begin or who these "planted ones" were...
'If no signal comes, I just won't move.'
The perfect opportunity would slip away, but he could live on as if nothing had happened.
'As long as they don't discover that Cartia tampered with the barrier.'
And if things proceeded as planned, their scheme would yield tremendous results.
He'd tested the power of the "destroyers" himself, so he was certain. If they didn't use them on Duke Valentia but released them in the middle of the grand hall instead...
'No matter what other tricks they've prepared, this alone would slaughter most of the imperial family in an instant.'
Not even the crown prince or direct imperial kin could stop a 6th-circle monster. And the Imperial Knights, who should stop it?
'Are under my control.'
The minor worry of not knowing who the organization had planted could be brushed aside.
'Just keep Duke Valentia in check.'
An aura user who could wield 70-80% of his power even within the intact imperial palace barrier. If they couldn't contain him...
'This plan might crumble to nothing.'
They claimed that even if he attacked the imperial family, the chaos would be so great no one would notice. But...
'I can't fully trust that. Eliminate the imperial family as quickly as possible and escape.'
And if he survived, with the emperor and all imperial family members except 5th Prince Tinel dead...
He'd return to the palace under the brilliant spotlight.
Because his "son" would become emperor.
'Cartia doesn't have much time left to adjust the barrier. Soon...'
Feeling his mouth go dry, he signaled his vice-captain. A sign to lure Duke Valentia outside briefly. For the main ceremony, he'd stay unless it was urgent, but for the rehearsal, mentioning security would make him move.
If he just stepped out of the venue as planned, the rest would be much easier.
'Please get the hell out, Your Excellency Sword Emperor.'
As Grirwell inwardly chanted this, alternating glances between the duke and the approaching vice-captain, his eyes suddenly caught sight of the Valentia twins.
'Huh?'
No matter that it was just a rehearsal, the gathered guests were of such high status that the imperial seats were laden with teas, snacks, and foods to ease the tedium.
And Ron, a servant who'd worked in the palace for about ten years, found himself personally preparing food—a task more suited to his distant juniors—for the first time in ages.
But he didn't complain at all.
'After today, a new world unfolds.'
It was his chance to rain down thunderbolts on the nobles who had beaten his family to death and tried to settle it with a few silver coins.
"Don't you feel wronged? We can help."
Ten years ago, the organization had given him a false fallen noble identity and placed him as a palace servant. Their grand undertaking happened today.
And it would begin with his own hands.
'This fucking class system...!'
The empire's imperial family at the pinnacle of this unjust society would meet a horrific end.
'Ten years of endurance ends today!'
That thought alone made grueling work invigorating; he even smiled.
Ron meticulously decorated the colorful "orbs" on each table to look as pretty as possible. The most vital tool for this great cause. Thunderbolts, powerful weapons specially crafted by the organization.
With seven per table disguised as ornaments, the imperial family inside would soon be annihilated.
As he smiled faintly...
"Hey, you. What's this?"
One imperial family member pointed at a prettily disguised thunderbolt and asked.
His heart seemed to drop, but Ron kept his composure and bowed.
"Ah, haha. It's the latest trend among nobles, called Glorious. As you see, the color shifts with the light's angle."
Of course, he omitted that they'd all soon glow the same red-hot.
"Oh, trendy, huh..."
Fortunately, the imperial merely eyed the thunderbolt with interest, not pressing further.
'Pathetic fools.'
That gaze, fixated only on fads, said everything about corrupt nobles. Idlers who squeezed the people's blood without working, living off the fat.
Those lazy pigs probably couldn't even imagine what was about to happen in Aslan's palace, boasting the continent's top security.
'Soon...'
Ron signaled the other two infiltrators with a glance. Among 100 servants, occupying just three spots showed the palace's strict vetting, but it didn't matter.
The "ornaments" could be handled by those two alone.
'No traitors among us.'
Besides them, the organization said others they'd planted would start things. Compartmentalized so only same-task partners knew each other. Foolish moves would draw friendly fire—and death.
'Vengeance is finally here.'
As Ron secretly smiled and clenched his fist again...
"Young masters Tren von Valentia and Glen von Valentia have entered the palace!"
Late arrivals meant setting another table right in the thick of it, with little time left.
Ron's smiling face gradually hardened, his fingertips beginning to tremble.
'Hm, Empress Cartia won't come, but...'
Crown Prince Bradley von Aslan scanned the venue and tilted his head.
The empress was set to attend the main ceremony with the emperor tomorrow, so her absence today made sense. But that didn't explain the situation.
'Rebellion with just Grirwell and the Imperial Knights?'
He knew demon worshippers backed them, but they couldn't enter the palace unless the barrier faltered.
The imperial magic circle filtered demon worshippers more reliably than relics.
Even if their scheme disrupted the barrier, with the Valentia knights here, outsiders couldn't breach.
'Did I call the Valentia knights unnecessarily? Should I have just secretly informed the duke?'
This might prevent them from acting. Pursuing safety could mean missing their tail.
'No, the best scenario is Father suffers alone, and nothing happens here.'
But demon worshippers might use this as a signal to attack the emperor. Maybe passing peacefully was better...
'Wishing for my father's death yet hoping no other mishaps? What a pathetic wretch I am.'
As his face soured unwittingly, a familiar voice reached him.
"Brother, what's wrong? Smile a bit. People are watching."
"Hm?"
Turning, he saw golden eyes like his own, filled with worry.
"Roth..."
"Why so many worries? The main ceremony for receiving the emperor's scepter is tomorrow. This is just rehearsal."
He forced a smile at his younger brother's words. The scepter's meaning was irrelevant now.
'Sorry, Roth...'
After quelling the rebellion, the purge would claim Empress Cartia—Roth's birth mother. This devoted boy might never show kindness again.
The thought brought a bitter smile, but another voice turned his head.
"Your mind seems elsewhere, not on the wedding. Say, on the throne?"
"Sister!!"
Roth scolded, but 1st Princess Juniper von Aslan replied calmly.
"What? Did I lie? Once you take the scepter, coronation's all that's left. I hope that day comes soon too."
Then a silvery voice chimed in.
"Oh? If Brother becomes emperor, Sister becomes the emperor's sister. That'll make marriage even harder, no?"
The speaker, 3rd Prince Jordan von Aslan—who furrowed 1st Princess's brow—grinned with his massive build and fierce features.
"Whether Father, wary of Brother, hands over the throne so easily remains to be seen."
His smirking gaze suggested he still harbored undue ambition.
Unlike Roth from the 2nd empress, Jordan shared the empress's blood like him, so perhaps he thought he'd be next if Bradley fell...
'Foolish brother, Father isn't wary because he hates me—he just can't let go of the throne.'
Overestimating himself and too greedy, this full brother was kept farther than half-brother Roth. Bradley scoffed without responding, but Sister interjected.
"Jordan, you idiot. Even Father can't defy imperial law. Nobles would revolt, and the imperial family couldn't endure. So I hope that day comes soon."
...Sister was always like this. Her thoughts were inscrutable. She always spoke of awaiting "that day," but it didn't seem to mean his ascension.
Curious, but she'd never answer if asked. He sighed softly, letting his siblings' words flow in one ear and out the other.
Then.
"Brother, do you hate getting married?"
His youngest, reaching his waist, suddenly asked while fiddling with a fist-sized orb on the table, avoiding eye contact.
He couldn't ignore it.
"Tinel..."
Tinel von Aslan. Rare among direct siblings without golden eyes, always timid.
At least this child was hard to coldly ignore.
"Of course not. I'm looking forward to it."
"But your face looks so bad..."
"Grown-ups have lots to think about."
"Hehe, I see. Anyway, congrats on the marriage, Brother. No chance for me to speak tomorrow..."
"Thanks, Tinel."
As their eyes met in greeting, the boy bashfully bowed his head.
'You'll resent me after today too.'
Bitter, but he wanted to show a smile till the end.
And then.
Ding!
With the clear bell toll, the archbishop drew eyes.
"Everyone, back to your seats. To avoid mistakes tomorrow."
...And to thwart today's disaster flawlessly.
'I trust you, Duke. No, Father-in-law.'
Bradley locked eyes briefly with the hardening-faced duke afar and nodded. The duke's further grimacing suggested no suspicious findings yet.
No signs of disturbance deep in the palace either, so Father seemed safe.
'Maybe this is for the best... Peacefully, naturally flowing without incident...'
As he felt ridiculous for wavering now.
"Wait a moment!"
"Young masters Tren von Valentia and Glen von Valentia have entered the palace!"
The interrupting voice halted proceedings, drawing gazes as a group rushed in.
And soon.
'That spirit?'
Seeing the tiny puppy on the Valentia twins' outstretched palm hardened his expression.
'Sir Tiny's already here?'
A strong premonition that peace wouldn't prevail.