The Kingdom Crumbles

The kingdom was crumbling. A 3rd Class knight named Jena had broken through to the 2nd Class and, alongside a 4th Class knight, felled a Mazok to rescue the princess from peril. Yet stories that belonged in fairy tales brought little comfort to those who faced the brutal reality.

"Aaaagh!!"

"Give me back my daughter…!!!"

"Our son!! Where is our son?! Why won't you even return his body?!"

"Damn that academy!! They said they were training them for the nobles' duty!!"

"I heard it before… Professor Bierson used students for experiments. Isn't this the same thing? They experimented on our children, failed, and now they're lying that a Mazok appeared?!"

"Is the royal family in on it too?! Did they sell the princess and kill our kids?!"

Seventy-seven students dead. Two more in critical condition with no hope of recovery. Most were not direct heirs, but they were still children of noble houses. A few were commoners whose families had scraped together every last coin to send them to the academy. Grief turned to rage. Rage became hatred. Hatred twisted into suspicion and conspiracy.

"What in the world are we supposed to do about this?"

"What can we do? The Mazok that killed the children is dead, and so are the Mains who attacked."

"Is that really the point right now?! Students have been injured or killed during field exercises before, but seventy-seven?! Nothing like this has ever happened in the academy's history!"

Blaming the dead would not erase the academy's responsibility. Still, the academy had its own grievances. How had the Mazok known the exact location of the first-year training grounds?

"For now… we should prepare compensation. And for the parents demanding their children's bodies, we need to help them prepare themselves and return the remains or personal effects according to procedure."

"Return the bodies? Do you really think anyone will believe you when you hand them a few scraps of flesh still clinging to bone and say, 'This is your son'?"

"Compensation? You're talking nonsense. Do you have any idea how much that would cost?"

"Is that really what we should be discussing?! The children are dead! We have to take responsibility—"

"The people who should be taking that responsibility are all dead!!"

The academy's meeting made no progress. Paying compensation would uproot the academy's foundations. Ignoring responsibility would destroy its honor and authority under legal, moral, and ethical scrutiny. While the academy remained deadlocked, the royal family made an announcement.

Even those who died fighting monsters at the front lines rarely received such treatment. Yet the royal family acknowledged the incident as their own failure and declared every victim a national hero. The academy's deliberations and choices became meaningless the moment the crown accepted blame and offered compensation. An academy under royal administration could not shift responsibility onto the very family that had claimed it.

"Uwaaaah!!"

"My son…!!"

"Hee, heehee… Our house is finished. Our only heir… like this…"

The situation was different from Walter's time. Even with a state funeral led by the king, a solemn mourning was impossible. Too many students had died at the tender age of twenty, and too many houses now teetered on the brink. The church and the royal family tried their best to calm the grieving, but effort did not always bring reward.

"…Therefore, let us remember those who died unjustly, and without forgetting their spirit, we shall face the threat of monsters and Mazok—"

"King, you son of a bitch!!! Give me back my daughter!!!"

"……"

A commoner man hurled stones and curses at the king during the funeral and was seized by the knights. He was likely the father of a student sent to the academy. The king glanced at his chancellor without drawing attention and shook his head. As a father who also had a daughter, he had no desire to lecture a grieving father on the law. Understanding the king's intent, the chancellor slipped away toward the knights dragging the man off. The king continued reciting the eulogy in a heavy voice.

The miserable, chaotic funeral was nearing its end when a voice rang out, amplified by magic.

"Instead of mourning with words alone, why not speak directly to the parties involved, Adrian?"

"!!"

Someone had used amplification magic to make their voice carry. Worse, they had addressed the king by name in front of a crowd. The emotion in that voice was not grief or anger, but mockery.

"Who is that?!"

"Protect His Majesty!"

"Where are the court mages?! Find the one using magic!!"

Security for the funeral had been extraordinarily tight because the king himself was leading it before an agitated populace. Yet the voice continued to echo as though the royal precautions were a joke.

"You should have protected the dead students the same way. You hide behind your knights the moment you sense danger, yet you send young people to their deaths under the banner of noble duty. Do you truly believe someone like that is fit to be king?"

"You bastard! Who are you?! Show yourself at once!!"

King Adrian drew his sword in fury, mana surging from his body. The title of the kingdom's strongest 2nd Class knight was no empty boast.

"Very well. Unlike a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coward like you, I have no reason to hide."

—Bang!

"!?"

A gunshot. A precise shot grazed past the king's head. Adrian did not miss the trajectory and locked eyes with a hooded, masked man standing on a nearby rooftop.

"Enemy!!"

"There he is!!!"

"Seize the traitor!!"

Soldiers rushed forward. Court mages and royal knights closed in to protect the king. Anyone witnessing the scene would have predicted the outcome: the assassination attempt had failed, the king was safe, and the traitor would soon be captured and executed.

"Huh?"

But the hooded man laughed as though mocking their certainty. A massive crystal flew from his hand.

—━━━━!!!

"Kuaaaagh!!!"

"My ears!!"

"Help!!"

"It hurts! It hurts!! My ears!! My head…!!!"

An unbearable ultrasonic wave mixed with vibration erupted, freezing every citizen, noble, mage, and even the 2nd Class king in place. In that opening—

"Kuh… Urk!?"

"Don't you see?! Your kingdom has already begun to crumble! Even among the noble royal knights and the highborn aristocracy, we already exist!!"

The laughing man and the groaning king crossed paths. Betrayal came from the royal knights who had rushed to guard him. They stabbed the king in an instant and scattered at tremendous speed without a second glance. Even the kingdom's strongest 2nd Class knight was still human. When those he trusted drove blades into his back, he could not even resist before collapsing.

"Your Majesty!"

"The court mages!! No— healers!! Where is the archbishop?! Treat His Majesty at once!!!"

"Damn it!! This sound—!!"

The king bled and fell. The hooded man pointed and sneered at the sight before turning away. From the fleeing figure flowed an enormous amount of red-tinged mana—visible even to commoners with almost no mana of their own. The people of the Valcart Kingdom saw it with their own eyes and felt it in their bones.

"A Mazok… A Mazok has invaded the kingdom!!!"

The danger was not confined to the Monster Front. The Mazok's reach had already extended deep enough to touch the kingdom's highest authority. And that danger would not spare even those living in the capital. The number of citizens collapsed at the ruined funeral site easily exceeded a thousand.

******

Two days had passed since King Adrian fell to his enemies' blades. True to his reputation as a 2nd Class knight, he survived thanks to the archbishop's full-power healing. Yet the archbishop who treated him only shook his head, saying the king was barely clinging to life and that the crisis continued.

"Ah, Fa… ther…"

"Your Highness."

Since that day, Princess Lilith had refused all food and drink, standing guard only at the entrance to the king's chambers. She had attended the funeral with her father, but Jena, her bodyguard, had whisked her to safety the moment the hooded figure appeared. She had not witnessed her father being stabbed.

"Lord… Duke…"

"I heard you have been fasting. I brought some fruit that is easy to digest and will also replenish your fluids. Please eat at least one."

"Fa… ther… Lord Duke… Father…"

"Here. Open your mouth."

"Mmph…"

Carix pushed a piece of sliced fruit from the plate held by his attendant into the princess's mouth.

"If you do not chew, I will hold your jaw and move it for you."

"……"

The sound of chewing echoed weakly down the corridor. Jena looked at the princess with pity, but Carix merely gazed down at her with a calm expression.

"Here. One more."

"Lord Duke… Father…"

"I know. Now eat quickly."

"Fath—mmph!?"

Annoyed by the broken-record repetition of "Father," Carix forced another piece of fruit into her mouth and covered it. The princess felt genuine sorrow at his actions.

"I heard you cried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for two whole days."

"Hic…"

"That is why I brought fruit before you became dehydrated. And now that you have replenished some fluids, you are going to cry it all out again?"

Lilith shed sorrowful tears. Carix watched her in silence so complete it bordered on cold. Finally, Lilith slapped his hand away from her mouth and shouted.

"They said Father was stabbed! By a Mazok! By royal knights who betrayed us for the Mazok!!"

"I heard."

"Then why are you so calm?! He is not even your father!!"

"Correct."

"……"

Lilith's expression changed for the first time in two days as she watched Carix shrug as though it were someone else's problem. She was about to scream when Carix's voice cut her off.

"If my crying and wailing would make His Majesty healthy again and have him leap out of bed, then yes. I would cry. I would shout. If necessary, I would drink only water and pray for a week."

"That is not—!!!"

"So, Princess, by doing that, has His Majesty recovered?"

Carix's words were so coldly rational they sounded like a rebuke. But Lilith was also at a loss. What was she supposed to do? Traitors had appeared even among the royal knights. What could a mere princess who was not even the heir possibly accomplish?

"What do you want me to—!! What am I supposed to do!!!"

The princess finally broke down, sobbing like a child. Carix watched her in silence. When he simply let her cry, she grabbed his sleeve and pulled with enough force to tear it.

"H-Help me… Please help me. Please… Save my father… You can do anything… If it is you, you can do it…"

"I cannot perform healing."

"Then… then!! Those damned bastards… Kill them! I beg you… Avenge my father…!"

The sight of the princess clenching her teeth and pleading desperately satisfied Carix. He gently pressed his hand against the top of her head. Startled by the unexpected response, Lilith looked up at his face.

"Correct. Crying will not change anything."

"……"

"The moment the assassination attempt on His Majesty occurred, the capital was sealed. It seems no one, including the nobles, has left yet."

"Unfortunately, Leng is bedridden. All my available personnel are at the ducal estate outside the capital, so I lack the manpower to gather information."

Carix naturally picked up another piece of fruit with his other hand and brought it to the princess's mouth. This time he did not force it; she accepted it herself.

"If I tell you what must be done, will you do it?"

"……Yes."

Unlike moments ago, the princess now chewed the fruit with vicious hatred as her driving force.

"I will do anything. Tell me."

It could not be called a good direction, but Carix smiled in satisfaction at the golden eyes of the princess, whose gaze had finally returned.

*****

When people suffer an unforeseen disaster that does not directly harm them, they generally react in three ways.

"Hah. The kingdom is finished."

"Damn it, how long are they going to keep the seal? I want to leave Valcart, but that cursed gate shows no sign of opening."

"I need to defect. There are no more 2nd Class knights in Valcart, are there? Even if I lose my title, it would be better to live as a rich man in the Empire."

One reaction was avoidance—or surrender. These people concluded the kingdom's lifespan had ended and acted only to distance themselves from the problem, fleeing without considering the consequences that would spread later.

"Find them immediately!"

"Where the hell are those bastards hiding?"

"Should we not search the noble estates as well?"

"So many royal knights vanished as if they sank into the ground. It is reasonable to assume someone is helping hide them…"

Another reaction was resolution—or restoration. The king had not died instantly. Therefore, if they found and killed every Mazok and spy hiding among humans and the king recovered, everything would return to normal. So they refused to give up and acted, though whether their actions would truly bear fruit remained unknown.

"W-We are screwed."

"This cannot be happening… The king was assassinated…"

"No way. The information I sold… could not possibly have gone to the Mazok… That does not make sense…"

The third type: those who had unknowingly brought about the disaster. They denied it at first. They insisted it was not their doing, that they had only done the job because they were paid. But as the excitement faded and they had time to think calmly, realization dawned.

"…Somehow, we have to stay quiet and get through this."

"We absolutely cannot be discovered."

Whether they had known or not did not matter. The problem was the possibility that they were involved. Those gripped by fear hid deeper and curled tighter as time passed. Finding them would become an extremely arduous task.

Yet there were also those who belonged to none of these three categories.

"It seems the Mazok proceeded without consulting us."

"Since we heard a Mazok died during the academy attack, they must have suspected their information leaked through us."

"Damn it! Even so, my eardrums were torn because of that sonic attack that day!"

Even after over a thousand citizens were terrorized and the king was attacked through the betrayal of royal knights, they dismissed the incident as trivial and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moved with the conviction that their actions served a greater cause—traitors who conspired with humanity's public enemy, the Mazok, to secure their own future. Only they analyzed the current situation with cold clarity and acted.

"But this is also an opportunity."

"…What do you mean by opportunity?"

"Since the Mazok moved without consulting us, we simply need to prepare our own actions."

""!!""

Rumors that the king remained in critical condition had spread widely since that day. Every report from the spies planted in the royal household said the same thing: the king was dying. If so, the Valcart Kingdom no longer had a 2nd Class knight.

"Walter is dead, and the king is in that state. Now that we move, who can stop us?"

"But there was also intelligence that the princess's bodyguard, Jena Prix, broke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through to the 2nd Class while fighting the Mazok."

"Even if that is true, she only just reached the 2nd Class. Magang is not something one can draw out the moment they ascend."

"Indeed… With the forces we currently possess, eliminating that woman and killing the princess to overthrow the royal family would not be difficult…"

Yet something felt off. Everything was unfolding far too conveniently for them. They had been in contact with the Mazok, but they had never received any report that the Mazok planned such an action. Suddenly both of the kingdom's strongest 2nd Class knights were dead or dying, and the capital was completely sealed so that no one could stop them even if they raised an army. It almost seemed as though someone had laid out the kingdom as bait and was wagging their tail.

"Let us move with a little more caution. First, we should identify which Mazok caused this incident. Contacting the Mazok in the black market to confirm would not be too late."

"But we cannot afford to be too late either. The Empire views the Mazok as a significant threat, which is why they never touched Valcart even during the invasion war. If they sense instability from the king's absence, they might dispatch a 2nd Class knight—or in the worst case, a 1st Class knight."

"Then how about we prepare to raise troops in secret while using our spies to feed poison to the fallen king?"

""That is it!!""

They believed that putting their heads together would yield a good plan. Even as they considered the possibility of a trap, they intended to eliminate the king—who might still recover—before making their move. Yet the news they desired arrived even sooner.

"His Majesty the King has passed away."

The auspicious report they had been waiting for continued to unfold.