Ducis once described what the royal castle’s courtyard looked like. He claimed that it was a “vast expanse of pristine white”.

Well… not anymore. A sea of dead bodies litters the bloodied ground. Each step I take must be taken with care to make sure that I don’t slip on the blood or bodies.

The stench of death overpowers my nose as I make my way through the courtyard. Most of my battered forces are moving around me, trying to search for any injured soldiers of ours who are still alive. However, some of my soldiers congregated in front of the castle’s ornate wood-plated gates. All of my soldiers’ faces show a variety of emotions; some look haunted, and some look jubilant, but exhaustion is clear to see in all of them.

The soldiers gathered in front of the castle’s gates are standing over a handful of kneeling soldiers garbed in bloodstained, royal red and gold armour. These are the last of the king’s forces—the only ones left alive due to their surrender. They managed to hold out for an entire hour, but as expected, our numbers proved too much for them.

However, I must admit, I had thought that the battle would be over around the thirty-minute mark. It seems, by underestimating the King’s forces’ individual combat strength, I have once again committed a miscalculation.

…Damn it.

My finger involuntarily twitches, but that is the only evidence I reveal of the blood-boiling anger that is blazing inside me. I double-check to make sure that my face is completely blank.

It doesn’t do to show anger after a resounding victory.

“So?” Luna’s voice suddenly rings in my head in response to my rage, “I mean, you’re still going to win in the end, aren’t you? Doesn’t that make you better?”

I blink.

Yes… I had forgotten. This is a victory. I have outwitted the top powers of an entire nation and successfully conducted a full-blown rebellion.

My anger cools slightly at that and a small smile flits across my face.

“Sir!” A bald and top-heavy soldier comes up to me, “According to our early estimates, we’ve lost around 35,000 people!”

35,000 to 30,000… I’d consider that a success. The king’s troops are far more skilled than us so I thought we’d lose at least 50,000 troops, but it seems our significantly higher morale made up for it.

I look around and find the two least battered units, “Soldier, tell commanders Vidi and Vici to take their units and capture any ministers and nobles they can find. They should be in the process of fleeing right now. Make sure to tell them that all nobles and ministers must be captured alive.”

“Yes sir!” The soldier gives me a salute and sets off to complete his new task.

I had held off from sending any units to capture the nobles and ministers before the battle due to the losses I had predicted I would take in this battle. I thought I would need every last unit I could get, but the results indicate otherwise.

My fists involuntarily clench and I feel the sudden urge to punch something. My miscalculation has allowed several important nobles and ministers to escape. Sure, the ministers and nobles left in the city don’t command any armies, but at the very least, they could have served as hostages for the truly important nobles who do.

No… now is not the time. The grand prize is right in front of me so I have to keep moving forward.

My anger melts away, leaving behind a single resolution.

I will not make the same mistake again.

Wilhelm walks into the courtyard with a handkerchief over his nose to block out the overbearing metallic scent of blood. Ducis is trailing behind him.

“My… it’s quite a sight, isn’t it, Ducis?” Wilhelm asks casually, as if he’s simply inquiring about the weather.

Ducis smiles subserviently and gives him a short bow, “Yes, my lord.”

They walk past me and the soldiers like we’re simply air, and head straight for the large, ornate, wood-plated doors of the Royal Castle.

“It seems your commander has succeeded,” I hear Wilhelm say as Ducis gracefully pulls open the doors for him, “But it doesn’t take a whole lot of strategy to defeat an enemy that you outnumber two to one.”

“Of course, my lord,” Ducis says. I’ve known him for a long time, so I notice the slight quiver in his voice indicating the fact that he’s holding back his laughter.

I feel a small twinge of indignation within me, but nothing more. Wilhelm is an ignorant fool and will soon be dead, and so there’s really no need to be provoked by his words.

Once I’m sure that a reasonable enough distance has been created between Wilhelm and me, I too enter the castle. I walk down the fine wood-plated, golden design-filled corridor and emerge into a massive chamber.

I see that Ducis and Wilhelm are both standing in the middle of the chamber, looking… confused? The bronze throne at the end of the chamber catches my eye, and confusion infects me too.

The throne is empty. There is no king sitting atop it.

“I know that there are no escape routes… where could he have gone?” Wilhelm audibly mutters to himself.

I walk up to Ducis and suggest, “Let’s scour the castle.”

Wilhelm’s head whips to me angrily, “Who allowed you to step foot in here, commander? Stay outside and keep watch over the prisoners!”

I share an annoyed look with Ducis, and we both nod at the same time.

In a single swift move, we bury our blades into Wilhelm’s body. For a second, he simply stands there like a statue, pure incomprehension colouring his face. And then, he crumples to the ground and shrieks in pain. His entire body is quivering, and his hands are anxiously applying pressure to the punctured areas.

His betrayed, tearful eyes look up imploringly at Ducis,

“D-Ducis…? Why…?”

He sounds pathetic. Like a dog dying from an excruciatingly painful illness.

Ducis gives the dying noble an obviously false apologetic smile, “Sorry, Wilhelm. Your usefulness has come to an end.”

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Wilhelm howls and sobs loudly, his voice echoing in the large chamber. Slowly, his voice grows feebler and feebler, until his body finally slacks entirely; leaving behind an eerie silence.

I look over at Ducis and notice that he seems to have a pensive look on his face. He slowly kneels down and gently closes Wilhelm’s eyes.

“You died for a great cause, Lord Wilhelm. I will make sure that history remembers you for it.”

He gets up and gives me an easy-going smile, “Let’s go.”

… I’m not sure what to say, so…

“…Sure,” I simply agree.

Ducis looks around, “Where do you think we should check first?”

I shrug, “His bed chambers maybe?”

There are only four doors of various sizes in this chamber—including the one I just came from—so I pick a random door on the left wall that’s located near the throne. The door is completely gold-plated, and the image of a wreath is proudly adorned on it.

We pull it open, and find ourselves in front of a flight of gold-gilded steps (or at least I hope they’re gold gilded, I don’t know how pissed off I would be if the steps were made entirely of gold).

“Looks like we got the right place,” I say.

Ducis raises an eyebrow, “What makes you say that?”

“The steps are going up,” I explain, “And the king’s bedchambers are probably located on the very top floor; you know, to symbolize them being an existence closer to the Gods, or Heaven, or something.

Ducis shrugs, “Makes sense.”

We walk up a flight of stairs and come across another door on the second storey. This door is only plated with simple wood and is covered in a thick layer of dust, as if no one has used it for a long time.

I try to pull it open, but it’s locked. So Ducis and I break the door down with some help from our swords.

From what we can see from here, the insides are dark, dusty, and lack any sort of windows or lighting.

“It seems Wilhelm was wrong,” I say, “An escape route does exist.”

“It could be a warehouse,” Ducis suggests.

“I doubt it.”

We take a candlestick from the walls of the stairwell and enter. A few minutes of straight walking later, our piddling light source allows us to see that the walls are ripped of their aesthetic of fine wood and only practical stone remains. Another flight of stairs greets us and takes us down.

A final door remains, and with some more help from our blades, we break it down and emerge into the small, empty stretch of pavement which separates the royal castle and the Golden District surrounding it.

I shoot Ducis a smirk, “Told you.”

Ducis’ brow furrows worriedly, “Do you think he escaped?”

I shake my head, “No way, the door looked like it hadn’t been used in years. At the very least, I know that King Villibus didn’t leave from here.”

Ducis lets out a sigh of relief. Understandable, as King Villibus escaping means that we can’t take the Royal Seal. If that were to occur, we would have no chance of legitimizing our actions, and so every single noble would consider us terrorists.

All of the armies of Salvorum bearing down on us is not a sight I want to see.

We make our way back through the dark and dusty escape route, and return to the stairwell we came from. We put the candlestick back in its place and climb the final set of the gold-gilded stairs.

A meter or so away from the final step, an ostentatious golden door with numerous sparkling rubies and emeralds encrusted within, greets us.

“The king’s bedchambers?” Ducis asks with a sort of disbelieving smile.

I shoot him a sarcastic look, “No, it’s obviously the door to the barracks.”

Ducis chuckles.

I go to wrench open the door, but stop midway. King Villibus is a coward, and this door is heavily fortified, trying to force ourselves in will be far too troublesome and time-consuming.

“Your Majesty!” I call out after a few polite knocks, “The insurrectionists have been dealt with!”

“All of them?” King Villibus asks from within. There is a deep richness and magnificence to his voice—genes from the Calamity-King, no doubt. How disappointing it is that he squandered it.

“We have taken some as prisoners, Your Majesty,” I say with a lowered voice since I can tell that he’s moved closer to the door, “Lord Wilhelm is among those prisoners. He says that he wants to talk to you.”

“My spies had told me that Rutherford was the one leading the insurrectionists…” King Villibus audibly mutters. And then he sighs, “Just why would he do this? I would have shared all the power I had with him, had he only asked…”

“What shall we do, Your Majesty?” I ask.

King Villibus remains silent for a while. Then he decides—

“I shall meet him myself. Let us go, I want to see what he has to say—”

He opens the door, and in a flash Ducis wrenches the door completely open while I calmly rest my blade on King Villibus’ throat.

“Sorry, Your Majesty,” I apologize with a smirk, “You’re not going anywhere.”

King Villibus’ eyes are wide and they flit around like mosquitoes, trying to comprehend the situation he’s currently in.

I push the blade on his throat a bit and force him into the room.

His room is a lavish display of disgusting comfort. The bed seems as though it can fit five grown adults and looks as though I will sink into it if I even try sitting on it, a golden chandelier filled with candles hangs above and illuminates the entire room and its golden walls, and there are shelves of amusing-looking toys that all seem like they haven’t been used even once.

“Wh-what’s going on? Why—”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask tauntingly, “We won.”

“Wh-where’s Rutherford? Why isn’t he—”

“Rutherford Wilhelm is dead,” I interrupt, “Oh, but don’t get the wrong idea. He really did conduct this rebellion against you. We just had our own goals which required him to take a permanent trip to the after-life.”

Snot and tears run down King Villibus’ face as he snivels pathetically, “Why are you here? Do you want money? If so, then I have plenty—”

“Do you really think we would have attacked the king of a sovereign nation if we wanted money? Of course not, you damn fool!”

Ducis smiles and shakes his head, “This is the progeny of the Calamity-King? I almost feel like crying.”

“Then why?” Villibus whimpers.

My smirk widens as a vile hatred creeps up my veins. I lean in close, “You see, we really like the lustre of that throne of yours. It really… makes us want to snatch it out of your hands.”

I make a nick on the side of his neck with my blade to accentuate my point.

Villibus grits his teeth and glares at me tearfully,

“Why do you taunt me so? Why do you show me such cruelty?”

The sight of King Villibus standing up for himself and pretending that he’s the victim in this makes my blood boil.

“I’M TAUNTING YOU BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO SUFFER!” I yell in his face, digging my blade deeper into his neck, “You spend all your days up here, enjoying the finest comforts in life while your own people suffer! You failed in your only duty as KING: to lead your people to happiness!”

King Villibus trembles, but still musters up the courage to yell back, “No! I am the king, so people should be bringing me happiness! That’s how kingship works! I—”

I push my blade even deeper into his neck, drawing blood. That shuts him up.

“Why… do you think that the people serve you?” I ask in a deathly whisper, “Is it because you hold the Royal Seal? Or is it because your father was the previous king?”

Villibus stammers, but no answer leaves his mouth.

“No… in the end, it’s all because of the Calamity-King,” I answer for him, “He gave the citizens of Salvorum a safer, brighter future, and a stronger and more united country… that’s what convinced people to serve him. Not his blood, not his parents, and not his status. You and your father, the descendants of the Calamity-King, only reign over Salvorum because of him."

I lean in close and whisper into his ear,

"Without the name of Regis, you both are nothing but trash.”

I expect him to lunge at me.

I expect him to spit insults at me.

I expect him to skewer himself on my blade, so as to no longer suffer through this indignity.

But I don’t expect him to just sit there, sniveling and wailing like a coward.

This only proves my point. This is no king. Any majesty or fire I felt from him was something merely born from my own hopes and imagination. My opponent is nothing, but a weakling born into a privileged life.

“At least tell me something before I kill you,” I say quietly, “Why didn’t you try to help all the suffering people in your kingdom?”

Villibus squeals like a tortured pig, “Ki-kill me? No, please--!”

“Answer the question!” I command clearly and authoritatively.

VIllibus flinches back and trembles harder than I have ever seen any person tremble before.

“I-I…”

I glare into his eyes, daring him to lie.

He looks away, “I didn’t care. Why… would I care if people I didn’t know were suffering?”

...Nothing but a weakling.

I close my eyes and sigh, “A normal person might have been able to use that excuse, but you’re no normal person. You… have failed as king.”

In a swift motion, I cut off his head; splattering blood everywhere. The death is quick, and swift. He receives no time to lament or suffer.

I can’t deal with this person anymore. Nor do I want to.

I stand there in the heavy silence as Ducis kneels to the ground plucks the Royal Seal off of Villibus’ index finger.

The ring is made up of simple iron, with a single copper carving on it of an eagle bearing its talons threateningly.

“The Royal Seal…” Ducis breathes in awe, “An accessory which allows one to command an entire nation…”

“The entire nation isn’t ours to command yet,” I remind Ducis, “We still have a long ways to go.”

Ducis pockets the ring into his loose robes and chuckles, “Yes, that we do."