“Ugh… my head…”

Inside a medical facility somewhere in Krata.

Ravi slowly pushed herself up from the bed.

“What… what happened…?”

She scanned her surroundings, her eyes eventually landing on the familiar decorations that told her exactly where she was.

‘I… survived?’

After the elves had attacked, she had been certain death was all that awaited her. It wouldn’t have been wrong to say survival was impossible. Yet here she was, opening her eyes. She could only call it luck.

“Tch…”

Trying to move further, Ravi winced. Only then did she glance down and see that most of her body was wrapped in bandages.

Even though she’d lived, the extent of her injuries was severe. It might have been wiser to stay put until someone came, but she couldn’t just lie there. She needed to know what had happened while she was unconscious.

She stepped out of the ward and into the corridor, but met no one. Wandering aimlessly, she spotted an open door—inside lay her weapons.

Ravi retrieved her twin swords and returned to the hallway. But as she stepped outside the building, an unexpected scene came into view.

“What the…”

Right in front of the facility, a man hung limply from a tall post like a scarecrow.

“That’s…”

A strip of cloth covered his eyes. His own weapon dangled from a cord looped around his neck.

Ravi staggered forward until she stood before him.

“Ca…dis.”

It was Cadis, the Second Seat of the Guardian Knights.

She had no idea what had happened, but one thing was clear—there wasn’t the faintest sign of life in him.

Caw! Caw!

Above his head, crows circled, ready to descend upon him, as if annoyed that Ravi was interfering.

She stepped closer to check.

‘Dead.’

It was absurdly anticlimactic—he was simply gone.

Cadis had dedicated his life to the Holy Alliance as the Guardian Knights’ Second Seat. They had clashed often, their personalities rarely in sync, but she knew his merits well enough.

Flap!

One bold crow swooped down, and Ravi drew a blade.

Slice!

Her sword cleaved the bird in two, the pieces hitting the ground. Only then did she notice the cuts marring Cadis’s body—blade wounds, deep and deliberate.

He hadn’t been hacked apart like the crow, but it was clear he’d been unable to fend off the assault. Every wound was viciously deep.

“….”

A sudden unease prickled at her, and she looked around again. The area around the facility was eerily silent, as if the place had been abandoned for years, even though the building itself was intact.

Yet she had been treated here. That meant there must have been healers not long ago.

Judging by Cadis’s condition, he hadn’t been dead for long. Ravi swallowed hard.

‘What happened here?’

She didn’t know the full story, but she did know this facility had been one of Cadis’s bases. Something had clearly gone very wrong. Cadis was not someone Krata would treat this way under normal circumstances.

‘Damn it…’

Then a thought struck her, and her body shivered.

For someone like Cadis—and everything tied to him—to be discarded, there was only one possible reason.

Clack.

A sound from somewhere made her turn her head. A squad of Kratan knights had just appeared.

“You’re awake, Lady Ravi,” said the knight captain at their head.

“Just now, we hung Cadis there and apprehended the healers who tried to flee in panic. You looked like you were on the verge of death, so we left you be. Didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.”

“What… are you doing?” Ravi demanded, gripping a sword in each hand.

“As you can see—we’ve executed a traitor.”

“A traitor?” Her eyes widened.

“Yes. Cadis raised his blade against His Majesty. That is why he ended up like this.”

“What…!”

“Oh, we didn’t do it. His Majesty dealt with him personally.”

Her gaze shifted back to Cadis’s body. Yes… those wounds were indeed the work of someone far beyond ordinary.

“I don’t know what happened,” she said coldly, “but don’t tell me you plan to treat me the same way.”

“Of course not.” The captain shrugged.

“You’ve only just woken up. How could you know anything? His Majesty simply gave me one order to pass along.”

“An order?”

“Yes.”

The captain delivered it without hesitation.

“Strike Clay immediately.”

It was a direct order to attack—no delay permitted.

“He said to carry it out the moment you heard it.”

Ravi stared blankly for a moment, then gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

“What the hell kind of order is that?”

“I only pass along what His Majesty says. Now it’s your choice,” the captain replied evenly.

“Will you obey… or not?”

It was a test—an outright demand for proof of loyalty.

“Hah…”

Ravi’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk.

“The Guardian Knights are an independent order created for the Holy Alliance. We cooperate with His Majesty—we’re not bound to obey his every whim.”

“Is that your answer?” the captain asked.

“Think carefully. His Majesty will hear of it.”

He met her eyes without flinching. Ravi ground her teeth hard.

“Think carefully?”

The moment Ravi learned Cadis had been executed, any notion of caution vanished.

“After all this time following orders, they treat me like this? A traitor? Cadis? That Cadis?”

She could believe him taking a stand on principle—but the Cadis she knew would never raise his blade in outright defiance of Krata.

“You bastards…”

Mana surged into both her swords. The effort made her injuries scream in protest, but she gritted her teeth and bore it.

“If you’re asking whether I’ll follow like a dog—no. Not anymore.”

She’d nearly died doing just that. And now, instead of reward, they were shoving her into an even more dangerous slaughter.

“Where’s Valuel? I need to talk to him.”

If nothing else, she needed a clearer explanation of what was going on. The captain answered without hesitation.

“He’s dead.”

“…What?”

“Killed by the Demon King.”

The captain sighed.

“His Majesty ordered him to take down the Demon King, so he rushed straight in. Fought him head-on and died. For the First Seat of the Guardian Knights, he had far too little in the way of a plan.”

“You—!”

“If I may offer advice, Lady Ravi—at least devise a strategy that lets you fight on favorable terms.”

“You son of a—!”

Ravi’s boots struck the ground as she launched forward.

“You’re dead today! Orders from Lutan? Shove them up your ass!”

Her mind was a storm—something she rarely experienced. She liked things simple. That was why she’d followed Lutan’s orders: they were straightforward, destructive.

But the moment those orders turned their blades toward the Guardian Knights, even she was forced to think.

To realize something was wrong.

And that she was next to be discarded.

“So that’s your decision, then.”

The captain raised his sword.

“I see. Your loyalty ends here.”

At his signal, knights burst from every direction, charging at Ravi all at once.

♧

“I can’t make sense of this.”

Some time after Clay began the process of creating the Coexistent Form, Neville paced alone in his quarters, murmuring to himself.

“That Valuel would charge in so recklessly and die…”

With proper support, Valuel could have dealt heavy damage here—but he hadn’t.

It was as if he’d moved purely out of personal emotion.

‘Don’t tell me… His Majesty Lutan…’

It could easily have been the result of another one of Lutan’s unfathomable whims.

“Truly… the man is impossible to read.”

Father or not, Neville had never been able to understand him. Lutan seemed to care little for strengthening the nation or reinforcing the Holy Alliance.

Yet for someone so seemingly detached from governance, he placed great weight on loyalty. Perhaps it was that fixation that had driven this, pushing Valuel into such a doomed fight.

‘Loyalty…?’

Lutan’s test.

Neville tapped his chin—then froze, eyes widening.

‘Not loyalty…?’

Lutan always wanted to be seen as God’s herald. And indeed, he served that role—no one disputed it. Yet he always seemed like a man who felt incomplete.

Perhaps that gnawing void was what drove him.

‘If that’s the case…’

A chill ran through Neville.

‘It could be faith.’

If he equated loyalty to himself with faith in God’s herald, then casting aside key forces in the Holy Alliance made sense—it was like purging heretics.

‘Barbaric.’

It wasn’t rational. Neville’s fists clenched.

‘And foolish.’

Whether Lutan was truly dragging Krata toward ruin out of stupidity, Neville couldn’t say.

Understanding him was difficult—simplifying him, impossible.

Clunk.

A soldier entered Neville’s quarters.

“Lord Neville! Urgent news!”

“What is it?”

“The Demon King’s army has crossed the Yaphenon border and is headed this way!”

The Demon King’s army. Clay’s forces.

“It looks like they’re moving on Krata,” the soldier said, uneasy despite having changed his view of Clay after seeing him.

“Even if we open the way for them, are we sure it’ll cause no trouble…?”

“Don’t worry,” Neville replied calmly, “Inform the others, and make sure the people aren’t panicking. Tell them I ordered it, and they’ll listen.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Once the situation was in motion, Neville made for the room where Clay was working with Athanasia. Outside, standing guard before the door, were Omni and Syltanaro.

“So that’s the god they call Omni?”

He’d been briefed on the situation, but seeing what looked like nothing more than a crow perched on Syltanaro’s shoulder was still strange.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Syltanaro answered.

Neville hesitated for a moment, then spoke again.

“I have a message for Lord Clay.”

“What is it?” Syltanaro asked, straightening as if the message were for her as well.

Neville delivered it as if making a formal report.

“The Demon King’s army is here.”

(End of Chapter)

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