Captain Demenes sat alone in his dimly lit chamber within the imposing walls of Mundramon City, now under his control after the meticulously planned coup that had unfolded a month ago. The echoes of power and authority lingered in the air, yet a sense of foreboding crept through the silence.

It had been a month since their arrival, and they had somehow subdued the anarchy within the City’s walls. Still, Demenes knew better that the peace was temporary. The inevitable bankruptcy of the Royal Bank of Mundar would plunge their Kingdom into a state of imminent destruction.

A servant approached, bearing a sealed letter. The Captain's keen eyes recognized the emblem on the wax seal—it was from the Aristocrats, in other words, his superiors. With a stern expression, Demenes broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.

The letter berated him for his perceived incompetence, the failure to secure the Mundar Bloodline haunting each accusatory word. Demenes winced at the accusations; the power of the Mundar Royalty, the ability to turn items into gold, was now lost to them forever. The consequences of his actions or lack thereof were laid bare in the cold ink on the parchment.

As he read further, his brows furrowed. Multiple hidden letters had been slipped beneath the surface message. A complex web of intrigue unfurled before him, revealing the crumbling foundations of the Mundar Kingdom. The killing of the Mundar Bloodline had set off a chain reaction, and the once united aristocracy was now fracturing.

"The Mundar Kingdom is on the brink of dissolution," Demenes muttered to himself, a realization that carried the weight of impending chaos.

The aristocrats, once unified in their quest for power, were now turning against each other. The promise of unlimited wealth, now shattered, had sown seeds of distrust. True, the nobles wanted to get rid of the King of Mundar for his tyranny which was a just cause. But to actually lose the entire Mundar line was something else.

The hidden letters detailed plans for individual circles, each scheming to secure their own profits in the wake of the kingdom's demise. Independence was on the horizon, announced in hushed whispers and concealed meetings.

Demenes sighed, contemplating the magnitude of the situation. The very foundation he had helped establish was crumbling beneath him. The city he now ruled was becoming a battlefield for the greedy ambitions of those who once stood united.

"We thought we were liberating the city," he muttered, shaking his head at the unforeseen consequences.

Captain Demenes, burdened by the weight of the unraveling kingdom, rose from his seat in the dimly lit chamber and ventured into the opulent halls of the Golden Palace. The grandeur of the surroundings, once a testament to the glory of the Mundar Royalty, now seemed like a fading mirage.

As he walked through the lavish corridors, Demenes couldn't escape the whispers of his own footsteps, echoing the uncertainty that loomed over Mundramon City. The golden ornaments that adorned the walls seemed to mock the financial turmoil that gripped the kingdom.

His journey through the palace brought him unexpectedly to a chamber where Lanor, the aristocrat's chosen Champion, awaited. Lanor, a man of keening observation and monstrous talent ambition, looked up as Demenes entered.

"Captain Demenes," Lanor greeted with a sly smile, acknowledging the man who had promised him to help re-raising his House Haval from the ashes. But now, it seemed that Demenes had plans to make him King instead. "The Captain himself grace me with his presence. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Demenes, eyeing Lanor with suspicion, replied, "I could ask you the same. What scheming are you brewing in these halls? Or was there something you were not telling me? Since the mention of the Enderman from Izabella, you have not been acting the same."

Lanor chuckled, the sound resonating in the lonely chamber. "Scheming? No. Not telling, yes… I thought of myself as the Enderman, the petty man… but simply calling myself that doesn’t make me one. The Mundar Kingdom is teetering on the edge of oblivion, and we must adapt."

Demenes raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering. "Adapt? I don’t understand."

Lanor, leaning back in his ornate chair, maintained his sly smile. "Allow me to elucidate, Captain. Meet Gon." He gestured towards the door, revealing a burly bald man with a great axe strapped to his back.

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Gon, acknowledging the Captain with a nod, spoke with a deep, gravelly voice. "Boss, I came here to Mundramon because I heard the collapse. I just wanted to make sure if I could still withdraw the treasure I had deposited at the Royal Bank of Mundar."

Demenes, perplexed by the sudden introduction, raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

Lanor explained, "Captain Demenes, you know my history. This Gon here is one of my most trusted companions. He has survived the retreat in the Whispering Woods with me."

Demenes's suspicion deepened as he regarded the newcomer. "And what does Gon have to do with the situation at hand?"

Lanor, a glint of excitement in his eyes, leaned forward. "Gon is not just a survivor, Captain. He is a key to our adaptation. To be specific— mercenaries. The collapse of the Mundar Kingdom has left the Royal Bank in disarray, but you see, there is an opportunity for this."

Gon nodded in confirmation, his expression resolute. "Boss has a plan, Captain. A plan to salvage what we can and ensure our prosperity in the new order that awaits. I will be honest, I only came here because I wanted to withdraw all of my treasures and continue my retirement, but Lanor here was very convincing…"

Demenes, torn between distrust and the need for allies, scrutinized the duo before him. "What is this plan of yours, Lanor? And why the secrecy?"

Lanor's sly smile returned, "Ah, Captain, let’s create a Kingdom on the ashes of this one— help me create a nation!" He closed his fist with strength, dangerous ambition glinted in his eyes, more volatile than his dark impulses. “Help me create a Kingdom for mercenaries! You helped me train my Perfect Physique! I wield both martial strength and magic without penalty, and you know that I am the perfect vessel to be King. Mundar Kingdom is done without its bloodline. This is no longer a coup, but a chance for greatness!”

Lanor's words hung in the air like a poisonous fog, infecting the very atmosphere of the opulent chamber within the Golden Palace. Demenes, torn between the ideals he once held and the harsh reality unfolding before him, felt the weight of Lanor's dangerous ambition settling on his shoulders.

The past month had been a turbulent journey for Mundramon City. The anarchy that had initially gripped the streets was subdued with great difficulty. Demenes and his cohorts had faced the challenge of establishing a semblance of order within the city's walls. Yet, beneath the veneer of stability, the underlying currents of chaos persisted, threatening to surge forth and engulf not only Mundramon City but the entire region.

The Mundar Bloodline, a once-great economic powerhouse with supernatural abilities to turn items into gold, had been eradicated. The Royal Bank of Mundar, a symbol of financial strength and trust, now lay in disarray. The collapse of the Mundar Kingdom left a void, a vacuum of power and influence that threatened to pull the entire region into upheaval.

The ripple effect of the Mundar Kingdom's downfall was beginning to extend beyond the city's borders. The neighboring cities, once allied with Mundramon, now stood on shaky ground. The Mundar Bloodline had woven a complex web of economic alliances, and with their demise, the threads were unraveling.

Demenes, caught in the crossfire of shifting allegiances and conflicting ambitions, understood the magnitude of the situation. The supernatural abilities of the Mundar Royalty had not only fueled the kingdom's prosperity but had also established a strong level of trust with its partners. Now, with the Mundar Bloodline lost, that trust was shattered.

Lanor's proposal to create a kingdom for mercenaries, a new order rising from the ashes of the old, resonated with the chaotic currents swirling around them. The dangerous ambition in Lanor's eyes was infectious, appealing to the part of Demenes that hungered for power and influence.

Demenes knew that if they did not act wisely, the chaos within Mundramon City would spread like wildfire, consuming not only the city but the neighboring regions and kingdoms.

Or maybe, it already had… and they just didn’t know it yet.

“So, what is it? Baron Demenes?” Lanor addressed Demenes with his noble title.

Lanor's words lingered in the air, an insidious presence that wrapped itself around the opulent chamber within the Golden Palace. Demenes, torn between the noble ideals he once upheld and the harsh reality unfolding before him, felt the weight of Lanor's dangerous ambition settling on his shoulders.

Demenes, his gaze reflective of the turmoil within, spoke with a heavy sigh, "Lanor, your proposal is audacious, but I see the logic in it. The Mundar Kingdom is in ruins, and chaos threatens to consume us all. Maybe, just maybe, your vision for a kingdom of mercenaries is what we need to rise from the ashes."

Lanor's sly smile widened, recognizing the subtle shift in Demenes' perspective. "Captain Demenes, you have always been a pragmatist. With your military prowess and my strategic mind, we could reshape the destiny of this region. The chaos within Mundramon City is but a microcosm of the upheaval that awaits. Together, we can be architects of a new order."

Demenes, feeling the allure of newfound possibilities, nodded in agreement. "Perhaps you're right, Lanor. Mundramon City has already been consumed by chaos, and if we do not act decisively, the contagion will spread further. I've been a mere baron in the past but with this... I could be something more."

Lanor's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Exactly, Captain. Together, we can seize the opportunity that chaos presents. Let us forge a kingdom that rises from the ruins, where strength and cunning prevail. You and I, we shall be at the helm, steering this new realm into a future where power is not a birthright but a conquest."

As they continued their conversation, the chamber seemed to absorb their whispered ambitions, becoming a crucible for the forging of alliances that would either save or doom the remnants of the Mundar Kingdom.