"He won't get far, just a few-year-old child. There's absolutely no hope of him escaping today."
"Once caught, we'll carve him open, just like his parents! Hang him on the mansion rooftop for public display!"
"Their family has royal blood. Wouldn't this be going too far?"
"We've co this far, and precisely for this reason, we must see it through to the end."
"Never let the Marquis' remaining scum escape!"
The sound of their searching footsteps drew near, forcing him to hold his breath once more.
"..."
His eyes stung, and at this mont, he thought perhaps giving up on running and ending his life right now might be the best option.
This way, there would be no fear, nor any pain.
The inexplicable flas, impossible to extinguish, stung his cheeks.
The rising tide surged as he listened to the echoes of calamity.
rely hearing this sound, he vividly envisioned his father being beheaded, his mother's clothes being torn apart, and the gut-wrenching cries of his sister fading away as she lay dying on the floor, losing her breath and her life.
He was only a nine-year-old boy, and his shoulders could no longer bear the weight.
To lose everything is to find ease.
It was supposed to be that way.
Just one wrong step, and he would tumble into mortal purgatory.
Why was he still struggling to survive?
The boy's eyes reflected the vast sea of flas as he observed the actions of these pillaging marauders.
His blood-streaked lips no longer stayed tight but instead revealed a liberated smile.
That sound, half wailing and half laughing, made him appear as if both crying and smiling.
...
Twenty years passed in the blink of an eye.
The first light of dawn broke as the streets of Bulida City stirred awake.
Golden rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, spilling onto the shimring surface of the Grande River.
The pulsating heart of this reborn empire, bustling with life and beauty, rivaled any city among the empire's coastal or mountainous regions.
Statues of heroes stood solemnly, awaiting the grand annual celebration.
Magnificent architecture and a rich artistic atmosphere adorned every corner of Bulida City.
At the center of the city, Cret morial Square was surrounded by white monunts and statues of the deep gray founding War Gods, each in a distinct style.
Every late November, a succession of festivals spirited Bulida City into lively splendor.
Wide streets shimred intermittently with morning light, carrying the faint scent of roses or gentle lodies played by street perforrs—chirping like birds sheltered in a warm greenhouse. Even at sunrise, the city resembled a realm of pure heaven.
The sun climbed higher and higher.
Until the ancient sundial within the Great Monastery at the city's southernmost end marked nine in the morning.
"What a beautiful day it is."
Many students of Saint Kray Temple hurriedly left the monastery grounds, heading together toward the Cret morial Square in the city center.
"I've been waiting an entire year for today. I'm going to celebrate to my heart's content."
"Absolutely."
Their companion agreed,
"The Emperor will personally review the cavalry today. It's been twenty years since that day of mourning; the scene will surely be majestic."
At Saint Kray Temple's bus station, a group of young students conversed excitedly.
"It's a pity Ursula and Elsa refused to co out today. They said watching Bulida Broadcasting Company's live coverage from the monastery was enough, but witnessing it firsthand would be so much better."
"Maybe it's because Ursula, as the eldest daughter of the Roland Marquis' family, still rembers her family experiencing the Blood Cleansing Day..."
"Let's talk about Professor Landry and the cat wife's new gossip instead!"
Aware they had wandered into sensitive territory, they coughed lightly to halt the discussion about their friend's family background and eagerly returned to lighter topics.
"What, there's a new version of the gossip already?"
Their chatter burst into laughter once more.
Their destination was the square in front of Saint Astore Palace, situated in Bulida City Center, six hundred ters north of Hallworth Cross Claw where the Empire's Special Operations Departnt was housed.
For this reason, the Empire's Special Operations Departnt had long been nicknad "Royal Doglegs Guard." Unlike the Imperial Guards tasked solely with protecting the palace interior, the Special Operations Departnt had a greater deterrent force, showing no rcy to anyone threatening the empire's safety.
The Royal Saint Astore Palace was originally commissioned by Cret Empire Monarch Hoffman I during the 15th century Solar Calendar era and completed during the 17th century.
Saint Astore Palace was constructed entirely of red brick, showcasing the typical architectural style of the Cyrus Dynasty period.
The palace consisted of four courtyards: the Envoy Courtyard, Divine Cultivation Courtyard, Color Courtyard, and Bright Courtyard. Its main hall housed the throne room for coronations and significant ceremonies.
The renowned annual Twelve War Gods' Blessing Ceremony, dedicated to the God of War and Sword, was held on the Cret morial Square in front of Saint Astore Palace.
Saint Astore Palace's most famous interior was the Royal Inner Courtyard, historically the site where the Cret Emperor t ministers and foreign envoys.
The inner courtyard featured luxurious tapestries and paintings from the Cyrus Dynasty era. Another notable room included the throne hall, designed by ancient imperial artist Plancs Jonville, with alcoves displaying busts of past Cret Empire monarchs. Corridors were lined with murals of towns from the Genesis Record's Divine Era, along with maidservant rest areas and an armory.
Many important events, from welcoming foreign dignitaries to royal weddings, were hosted here; the current Cret Empire King, Emperor Saint Baldo's coronation ceremony, was held right in this palace.
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