Viscount Domont paced anxiously in his office, wrestling with a daunting task.
“Bring a priest of the Salvation Order…,” he murmured.
The king’s request was nothing short of impossible.
A priest of the Salvation Order would never offer healing without conditions, likely imposing severe restrictions or demanding an exorbitant price.
Moreover, the Salvation Order had already been declared a public enemy across the continent. If the king aligned himself with them, he too would beco a pariah.
If that were exposed, Marquis Branford and his allied nobles would never stand idly by.
But… if it succeeds…
The balance of power could shift dramatically.
Not all royalist factions were unified under the sa ideology. Marquis Branford held sway simply because he wielded the strongest influence.
If the king were to regain his health, nobles and lords oppressed by Branford’s dominance might rise. It could even lead to Branford’s ousting.
Many nobles are already dissatisfied with Branford’s support of Count Fenris, Domont reasoned.
Ghislain Fenris’s heavy-handed approach had forced many nobles into submission, breeding resentnt.
Especially those nobles who lost their dicinal supplies or territories to Alia and Fenris.
The nobles whose resources had been confiscated, as well as those who had lost their lands to Alia under Fenris’s command, harbored deep grudges.
If the king regained his strength, a fight for supremacy would have real potential.
Of course, the plan was fraught with peril. Failure would cost Domont his life and leave the king more isolated than ever.
Still… it must be done.
Domont wanted to fulfill the king’s desperate wish. Years of watching Berhem’s pitiful existence had stirred a deep sense of pity within him.
He also wished to see Berhem reclaim his dignity as a king, even if only once. This was Domont’s way of demonstrating loyalty.
I need a plan.
But finding a way to execute it was another matter entirely.
Marquis Branford’s network of spies and informants was spread throughout the capital. Any attempt to contact the Salvation Order would be noticed imdiately.
Moreover, most noble allies of the Ducal faction had either fled or been captured when the war began.
I can’t leave the palace myself. Branford would catch instantly.
After much deliberation, Domont summoned his second son, Kolhen.
“You called for , Father?”
Kolhen, by all accounts, was an active and adventurous man—a kinder way to describe soone who loved to indulge in leisure. He was also a promising knight with a bright future.
His penchant for traveling made him an ideal choice for carrying out such a risky mission in the current state of war.
Gripping his son’s hands tightly, Domont spoke with urgency.
“I have a request for you.”
“What is it?”
“It is a matter that may cost your life.”
Kolhen looked puzzled as Domont calmly explained the king’s desire.
Hearing the plan, Kolhen paled.
“W-what are you saying? If this is discovered, our family will be utterly destroyed!”
“I know. But I still wish to do this for His Majesty.”
“Even if I manage to convince a priest of the Salvation Order, getting them to the king is impossible. Branford’s eyes are everywhere.”
“I will handle that. Your task is only to bring the priest here. No one else can do this.”
“Father! You’re risking the entire family! Even if we succeed, Branford will not spare us. And how much longer can His Majesty even live?”
Domont firmly gripped Kolhen’s shoulders, his voice unwavering.
“This is for the royal family.”
“Father…”
“And if we succeed, our family might take Branford’s place.”
“...!!”
“Though we are a central noble family, we have nothing. We lack even a proper territory to call our own. My favor with the king is all we have.”
Domont’s eyes glead with an unyielding determination.
“The Southern Army has moved to the frontlines, leaving only the city’s defense forces behind. The generals’ families remain in the capital, and the Royal Knights are loyal to us. Do you understand what I an?”
Kolhen swallowed hard, nodding slowly. He understood his father’s implications.
If the king regained his strength, everything would tilt in their favor.
Kolhen cald himself, weighing the risks. It was a dangerous gambit, but one worth attempting for their family’s future.
For the first ti, Kolhen realized that his quiet and composed father harbored such bold ambition.
“Can the Salvation Order’s priest truly heal His Majesty?”
“It’s not exactly healing,” Domont admitted. “But based on what we know of their powers, they should be able to restore his vitality.”
He couldn’t be certain, but the Salvation Order’s use of life force to open rifts and create Holy Warriors suggested they could achieve it.
Kolhen sat in silence, contemplating. Domont waited patiently.
Finally, Kolhen nodded, his eyes resolute.
“I’ll do it. I will bring back a priest of the Salvation Order.”
“Thank you. If you succeed, our family will rise to greatness.”
From that day forward, Kolhen resud his usual routine of drinking and socializing. A known hedonist, no one found his behavior suspicious.
“This war is practically over, isn’t it? I’ve been cooped up in the capital for too long. I need to hunt or I’ll go mad,” he declared loudly to those around him.
A few days later, accompanied by a small retinue of three knights and two attendants, Kolhen left the capital.
No one stopped him, but Kolhen remained vigilant.
I need to lose them all.
Although the knights and attendants were loyal to the Domont family, Kolhen suspected Branford might have planted spies among them.
As he ventured south, Kolhen’s group was halted by one of the knights.
“My lord, we can’t go any further. This area is dangerous. If bandits appear, we won’t stand a chance.”
The knight’s concern was valid. With only three knights and two attendants, they were ill-equipped to fend off southern bandits.
“You’re right. We’ll turn back soon. Let’s camp here tonight. I’ll take the first watch.”
Exhausted from Kolhen’s constant wandering, the knights and attendants quickly fell asleep after dinner.
When the ti ca to change shifts, Kolhen confird that everyone was soundly asleep. Quietly, he drew his sword.
He had deliberately led them on an arduous journey to ensure they were too tired to react.
Shink!
“Gah!”
Kolhen’s blade pierced the throat of the first knight, silencing him. The noise roused the remaining two knights, but Kolhen struck swiftly.
Slash! Slash!
“W-why…?”
Caught completely off guard, the knights were powerless to resist.
The attendants, trembling in fear, watched as Kolhen turned to them with a grim expression.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know which of you might be Branford’s spies.”
Shink!
The attendants fell without resistance.
With his entire group eliminated, Kolhen donned a hooded cloak.
Now, the real journey began. He needed to navigate the lawless southern territories and reach his destination unscathed.
It wouldn’t be easy. Bandits road freely, and scouts patrolled the region.
But Kolhen was determined to succeed. He had morized a route that would allow him to move discreetly.
“Father, I will not fail.”
His target was Viscount Raul Josef, the mastermind behind the Ducal faction.
Kolhen spurred his horse forward, steeling himself for the dangerous path ahead.
***
"The Kingdom’s Army and Allied Forces Are Regrouping"
“They’ve stationed the Northern Army so distance away, waiting. It’s hard to predict their next move.”
“It seems they’ll surround us and exploit the weakest point in our defenses.”
Raul listened to his advisors’ reports, his lips twitching with frustration.
The tide of war had completely turned. The Northern Army’s success had emboldened the other forces, driving them southward with renewed vigor.
If things continued, the encirclent would soon be complete, leaving Raul and his forces trapped.
“The Northern Army is formidable. They’ve even added new transcendent warriors to their ranks…”
Raul couldn’t confirm how many superhumans the Northern Army had, but troubling rumors persisted.
One such rumor claid that “The Guardian of the World Tree” had joined their ranks. This information ca from a priest who fled from the defeated 2nd Corps, his arm severed.
“And there’s talk that the ‘Saintess of War’ has joined them as well…”
The ranks included Alfoy, a 7th-Circle mage, and there were whispers that Gillian had also reached transcendent status.
It was hard to believe, but past underestimations had cost Raul dearly. He had to assu the worst and prepare accordingly.
“Gatros, it seems you must join this battle,” Raul said, glancing at the imposing figure beside him.
Gatros nodded solemnly. “I will handle the Guardian of the World Tree.”
The Guardian had long been an enemy of the Salvation Order, and only soone of Gatros’ caliber could stand against such an opponent.
“Count Fenris will be taken on by Count Balzac, while Alfoy will face Sir Illois. For the rest, we must deploy as many high-ranking priests as possible.”
With these asures, they might stand a chance against the Northern Army. The greater challenge lay with the Kingdom and Allied Forces.
“We’ll need to hold them off with as few troops as possible. Once the Northern Army is defeated, the rest will crumble like the disorganized rabble they are.”
“A tough fight lies ahead.”
“There’s no alternative. The Northern Army has grown too strong.”
“What if they attack us all at once?”
“That would actually make things easier. We could consolidate our forces to counter them. Unlike Fenris, we lack their mobility.”
Indeed, the mobility of Fenris’ troops had been unmatched in every engagent so far.
Facing a unified attack might actually simplify things for Raul’s forces.
“Fenris’ innovations are remarkable.”
The Fenris troops were equipped with advanced gear made from unknown materials. They even carried new types of combat rations, though the specifics of these innovations remained a mystery.
These supplies and equipnt were produced exclusively within Fenris territory, their details shrouded in secrecy.
Relying on past encounters, Raul had no choice but to estimate the enemy’s capabilities.
“For now, it’s best to strike preemptively, even if we’re not fully prepared,” Raul declared.
Delaying would only allow the Kingdom and Allied Forces to consolidate further, making the situation even more dire.
Just as Raul and his advisors were finalizing their strategy, the room grew noisy as knights entered in haste.
Raul frowned. “What’s the matter?”
“A man insists on seeing you, my lord.”
“Who is he?”
“He claims to be the son of the royal chamberlain.”
“Hmm?”
Raul tilted his head, intrigued. War raged between the royalists and the ducal faction, making such a visit highly unusual.
Why would soone from the royal family co, especially not as an official envoy but as the chamberlain’s son?
How had he even managed to reach this far?
Curiosity piqued, Raul gestured for the man to be brought in.
The knights escorted Kolhen into the room. He was in a pitiful state, his body covered in wounds and his clothes in tatters.
As soon as he entered, Kolhen collapsed to the floor and exclaid,
“My lord! I am Kolhen, second son of the royal chamberlain! We t briefly at a banquet long ago!”
“Raise your head.”
Raul scrutinized Kolhen’s face. Despite the dirt and disheveled appearance, the man’s features matched his mory.
“Indeed, I rember you. What brings you here during a ti of war? Are you unaware of the conflict between our factions?”
Kolhen’s appearance suggested he had endured great hardship to reach this place. Clearly, he had evaded many dangers along the way.
Raul’s curiosity deepened as he awaited an answer. What Kolhen said next was even more surprising than expected.
“I co at the behest of His Majesty!”
“What?”
“I have traveled here in secret, evading Marquis Branford’s watchful eyes, to seek the aid of the Salvation Order! His Majesty requires a priest to heal him!”
Raul exchanged a glance with Gatros, who slowly nodded.
Feigning a smile, Raul asked,
“Is that so? His Majesty wishes to be healed? Tell everything.”
Kolhen relayed his father’s words, explaining that the king desired the Salvation Order’s power, intending to oust Marquis Branford in the process.
With a solemn expression, Kolhen revealed the proposed terms.
“In exchange, His Majesty is prepared to offer the ‘Royal Family’s Treasure’ and grant any request from the ducal faction.”
“Oh…”
Raul’s cold laugh filled the room. This was no bluff. The king’s poor health was well known, and it was unlikely such an elaborate sche would be devised simply to capture a few priests.
“So, the ‘Royal Family’s Treasure,’ you say? And anything we desire?”
“Yes. But only if His Majesty regains his strength. That must co first. Can you make this possible?”
Raul smirked, turning to Gatros. The latter stood and approached Kolhen.
“It is more than possible. If His Majesty desires it, I can even make him a transcendent,” Gatros declared, his voice laced with eerie excitent.
Kolhen looked up at Gatros, trembling as a dark aura radiated from him.
“W-who are you?” Kolhen stamred.
“You don’t need to know. Simply think of as the one who will grant your wish,” Gatros replied, leaning closer with a sinister grin.
His expression resembled that of a devil reveling in its sches.
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