"F*ck."

There was nothing more the old woman could say. They could deal with Secret Service, media outlets, and even self-proclaimed justice warriors, but not rangers.

Rangers were different. They didn't give a damn about anyone's position or social standing. A bricklayer, a general, and a monarch were all the same in their eyes. If they thought a noble was in the wrong, they wouldn't hesitate to engage war against entire kingdoms for the sake of a single civilian. It was no wonder that even though the Rangers of the Confederation were recognized and respected by all twelve kingdoms, at least half of their numbers were wanted in one country or another.

Military in special had a love-and-hate relationship with rangers. They saved the army a lot of trouble by single-handedly taking out criminal groups that would, otherwise, demand a lot of effort to deal with. Not only that, but they also helped in a myriad of situations, from clearing out rampaging wild Iferes to mediating peace talks.

However, rangers had the uncanny trait of going absolutely ballistic from time to time, just like that scout did. Who in their right state of mind would charge into a general's command center, still covered in the blood of her soldiers - even though they deserved it - and beat up her subordinates? The answer was no one. No one but rangers.

That wasn't all, obviously. By default, military hated when outsiders interfered in their affairs. They were firm believers of cleaning dirty laundry at home. Unfortunately for them, rangers didn't care. They arrested and killed corrupt soldiers and officers left, right, and center, giving no face to the higher-ups of any kingdom's army.

Still, it wasn't like they hated all rangers. On their own, those fierce harbingers of justice were just like any other person. They loved and hated, and most were good drinking buddies. They all had their own personalities, after all, they were just human. Each of the people in the war room knew at least a couple rangers. Some were good friends, others mortal enemies.

The problem was when they were working - which was most of the time, really. The Mystic Iferes help who stood in their way, because the rangers would steamroll them without mercy. So, it was more accurate to say the military hated the ranger corporation, not it's members.

"What should we do?"

"What can we do? Ever seen one of those freaks back off once they found trouble to plunge in?"

"Heck no. They would rather die than take a step back. If the scout is already set on this path, there ain't sh*t we can do about it."

"It was to be expected, really. There was no way in hell Elder would not butt into the war."

"But not like that. This was a f*cking misunderstanding!"

"That's not all. This kid is new, isn't he? He could take Lapidum's side. If that happened things would get really dicey."

"Rangers don't take sides!"

"Keep telling yourself that. Remember the massacre of Red Flower Passage during the war between Virgo and Flare twelve years ago? The ones responsible were rangers."

"Is that accurate?"

"You bet, one of them told me herself. They discovered Flare troops brutalizing Virgo Kingdom civilians. Apparently warned them to stop and sh*t, but their general didn't listen. Rangers killed three thousand of Flare in the passage, and stopped the war themselves."

"Ahem!"

Sensing that the discussion was heading in another direction - mainly about ranger exploits and how hateful they were - Adviser Fuute cleared his throat, and caught the others' attention.

"There's one thing you are missing, everyone. The scout may be a quasi-ranger, but he isn't one just yet. So, the question is..."

He paused, and stared at each of his counterparts' eyes, one by one. A vicious glint flashed through his expression, and was mirrored by some of the older generals.

"... Do we kill him?"

-----------------------------------------

On the left wing of the palace, stood a large complex. Several dozen smaller buildings, connected to each other by passageways and bridges, and tied to the central part of the palace by a huge archway.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

In this huge group of buildings, which took up almost a third of the entire palace, there was only one thing: books. Thousands upon thousands of them, covering every wall and shelf. No matter where one looked, there didn't seem to be a single empty spot in the several dozen kilometers of corridors.

On the highest floor of the huge library an old man sat on a rocking chair, reading a book. The book had yellow pages, almost falling apart under the cautious tip of his wrinkled fingers. It was plain to see that the book was several decades old, and the man reading it was seemingly older. His black skin carried the marks of the passage of time, his short white beard the only remanents of hair on his head.

Sitting on his rocking chair, the old man read. Alone, in the huge library, as he had mostly been for the last twenty-odd years. In these close to three decades, the number of times Royal Archiver Lamberth left the left wing of the palace could be counted in one hand.

He had received his current position from the previous king. Before that, he had been the head of a small noble family. Truthfully, back then, the only difference between him and a commoner was his fancy title.

However, he had been graced with the old king's friendship and trust. As such, many, many years ago, when the former Royal Archiver passed away, he took her place. It was the best decision that had ever been enforced upon him. He could - and would - spend the rest of his days in the library and never feel bored or cooped.

"Master Lamberth! Where are you?!"

As the high-pitched voice destroyed the quiet and peace, the old man sighed. The job wasn't without it's hardships, one of the worst - and best - of them being his overly enthusiastic protegee.

Rena was a cheerful young girl, having just turned fifteen. She had also seen her parents being killed and eaten right before her eyes. When Royal Archiver Lamberth found her hiding under rubble in the aftermath of a wild Ifere stampede, he had taken the then eight years old kid with him. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, until her next-of-kin were found, but... That never happened. They had disappeared, most likely having died in the stampede.

Now, Rena had grown to be his helper, secretary, and... Daughter? No, not quite. Well, it didn't matter. He loved her - even though she could be annoying sometimes - and he would flay alive anyone who touched her.

Frowning, Royal Archiver Lamberth stopped reading for a moment. Why had he gone down that murderous line of thought again?

"Master Lamberth? His Majesty is here to see you again!"

Ah, of course. King Ampharus was coming to talk to him, like he did every day since the war started. That's what was angering him. He didn't like King Ampharus. He looked too much like his deceased brother... But he wasn't him. Every time the old archiver looked at his ruler, it unearthed painful memories of his old friend.

Still, contrary to what most others thought, Royal Archiver Lamberth considered King Ampharus a good ruler. Sure, he was blunt, petty, and probably emotionally scarred, but he cared about his people every bit as much as his brother did. Unfortunately, he always lived in the shadows of said brother, and that caused him to develop his current mindset. His major flaw wasn't arrogance or drinking, but trying to live up to a person who wasn't himself.

Sighing, the old man went back to reading. Rena would find him. She always did.

"There you are! Humph! I was brought your tea, but it got cold already. It's your fault for not answering! Hum!"

Sure enough, not even five minutes later, he heard footsteps and Rena's voice jokingly scolding him. Closing his eyes, Royal Archiver Lamberth took a deep breath, and rested his book carefully on the table next to him.

There was a quiet clicking sound as Rena put down a teacup near the book. Finally, feeling her looming over him, the old archiver opened his eyes, and saw his protege and King Ampharus.

"Your Majesty."

"I hope Ingenum finds you well, Master Lamberth. I've come to ask for your advice once again."

The royal archiver said nothing. While waiting for his ruler to continue, he picked up the teacup and took a sip, frowning at it's temperature. However, when he was about to complain to Rena, he saw the young girl giving him a stern stare. Her meaning was clear: it was his fault for not answering her when she called.

Sighing, the old man put the cold tea aside, and got up to talk with King Ampharus. He didn't bother with kneeling, bowing, or any of the like. He was too old for that, and his knees hurt just by standing. Instead, he nodded to the ruler, who followed him through a maze of shelves.

"What can I help you with today, Your Majesty?"

"The people, Master Lamberth. They are scared. Even though we hold back the news, each refugee that arrives brings more stories of death and destruction."

"Humm..."

Royal Archiver Lamberth's steps stopped for a split-second before he resumed walking as if nothing was wrong. He never turned back to face King Ampharus.

"This is war, Your Majesty. They have every right to be scared."

King Ampharus stumbled, and coughed awkwardly. He wasn't expecting Royal Archiver Lamberth to lie just to comfort him - he had enough bootlickers already, that wasn't why he came here - but he also hadn't expected him to be so straightforward.

"Master Lamberth..."

"What do you want me to say, boy? Word gets around, no matter how much you try to hide it. The only way you can calm them down is by spreading news of our victories, if we have any."

Was it weird to call a sixty-something man a boy? And what if that man was a ruler? Then it wasn't just weird, but disrespectful. And yet, none of the three people in the conversation found it strange. Royal Archiver Lamberth had every right to call King Ampharus a boy.

"But..."

"For Ingenium's sake! You are a king, Ampharus! Get ahold of yourself! You have the Dreaded Angel of Menoraz on the frontlines! Put your grudges aside and let Lilac do her job!"

Though Royal Archiver Lamberth was berating King Ampharus, he never turned to look at him. Instead, he walked - painfully slowly - down the library corridors, looking at the bookshelves.

"Aha!"

Finally, after a long time, on which he never stopped muttering inaudible curses under his breath, the old man halted. Eyes suddenly focused, he gestured for Rena to fetch him a small step ladder. Climbing it, he pulled out a very old - but surprisingly well kept - tome.

"Here."

Huffing as he caught the heavy book, King Ampharus looked at it curiously. It had a dark grey cover, and... That was it. No indication whatsoever of what the book was about.

"This is?"

"Historical records of some few hundred years past. Read it. It might prove useful to Menoraz's current predicament."

Historical records? Why was Royal Archiver Lamberth giving this to him? And why now? Sure, they could be a useful source of information, but they weren't what he needed now.

Still, even as he frowned, something stood out to King Ampharus. Records of a few hundred years ago? It was a long period of time, but there was only one thing that happened during that timeframe that could possibly be linked to what Menoraz Kingdom was experiencing now.

"The bell..."

Seeing the sparks of hope and determination in King Ampharus' eyes, Royal Archiver Lamberth allowed himself a small smile. The ruler was stubborn and hot-tempered, but he wasn't stupid. Not at all.