Rolls finally received permission to enter the Hall of Nurturing, where he met King Hermann III, who was often bedridden and recuperating.
A little over a month ago, he had come here once before regarding the formation of the Hero Squad.
At that time, King Hermann III’s spirits were somewhat better than now.
This time, he did not manage to gain the King’s support.
“Rolls, I truly envy you extraordinary warriors. Even after so many years, your bodies remain robust. I am much younger than you, yet already decrepit.”
The fifty-something King Hermann III spoke slowly.
Normally, Rolls would have made a lighthearted joke to his old friend, saying the reason for his good health was that he only had one wife.
But now, he was in no mood for such things.
“Do you know, lately I keep wondering, what sort of record I’ll leave in the annals of history.”
Hermann III looked up at the ceiling.
“My father led the kingdom through the post-alliance era. The chronicles praise him for defeating the betrayers and leading the humans to independence once again, but no one cares about the ruthless methods used in the process. As for the lingering problems caused by those ruthless methods, naturally, they were left for me.”
“My whole life has been spent dealing with them—no glory, no great achievements, not even a sliver of sunlight. There won’t be any record in the annals, as if my life as King was spent just indulging in pleasure and muddling through.”
At this point, Hermann III couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“The only accomplishment I might have to my name is the long struggle with a powerful foe—Demon King Aio—and ultimately achieving victory. Thanks to your Hero Squad, I must thank you.”
Rolls’ gaze flickered.
“If that’s the case, why not give them another chance?”
“You say they are chosen by fate. If that’s truly so, why did they fall so quickly in less than two months?” The old King’s expression was calm. “If they truly have destiny on their side, let them prove it here.”
“That’s different!”
Rolls grew anxious.
“They’re still too young, and each of them has a righteous heart. In this matter, that only puts them at a disadvantage!”
His voice grew louder, and a guard outside stepped in, glancing over inquiringly.
Hermann III waved his hand, signaling that all was well and telling them to leave.
“Maiken is a man who puts the kingdom’s interests first. He will make his own judgment.”
With these words, the old King closed his eyes and said no more.
***
Next to the Royal Garden, in the Royal Gardener’s Lodge, Ella’s beautiful fingers tapped the table rhythmically, producing a steady tap-tap-tap sound.
Wesley had been scared witless by Necromancy, and confessed everything like spilling beans from a bamboo tube.
“The Silent Sanctuary needs talented children. Whether they’re orphans doesn’t matter, as long as they’re orphans when delivered. These matters were handed down from above, and those below didn’t want to dirty their own hands, so it was left to local thugs and ruffians. In the end, we unintentionally created something else—something that allowed those at the top to directly reach into the towns and villages.”
Ella clicked her tongue. “You make a bunch of kidnappers sound so nice.”
“Not just… No, you’re right.” Wesley hung his head, dejected. “Later, the Silent Sanctuary was forcibly disbanded. The assassins were either quietly dealt with or retired under house arrest, and the leaders faced trial. I handed the list over to Taidin in exchange for his political protection. That’s how I survived the trial.”
Now he had truly confessed everything.
Ella blinked. “What list?”
“The kidnappers you mentioned. Taidin wanted to use them to control the local areas, force the local lords to side with him, and strengthen his political power.”
You could hear that Wesley still felt a bit proud of what he had created, exaggerating its impact.
“So, did he succeed?”
“Uh, hard to say. The Gregory Trial Case was only two months ago, so…”
Maybe it had just begun, and Taidin was dreaming of greater power, never expecting to have his throat slit in his own home.
Such is the unpredictability of life.
Ella sighed softly, then asked the final question: “Who else knows about the list?”
“A few of the higher-ups involved in the trial know, but I only gave it to Taidin. The others think I still have a backup, so they’ve kept me locked up here—but I really don’t have it anymore.”
Wesley finished in one breath, all his secrets spilled, feeling a strange sense of relief throughout his body.
Then he heard the girl give a soft laugh:
“No, you do.”
Ella searched around his room for a while, finally finding several sheets of old-fashioned lambskin paper.
She rolled them together, and an aged Lambskin Scroll appeared.
Wesley stared blankly.
“Aren’t those…”
“Yes, but,” Ella smiled faintly, “before you brought the children to the Silent Sanctuary, who could say whether they were truly orphans?”
The same logic…
Wesley’s eyes went wide, his whole body trembling.
“No, no, please, I can cooperate, I’ll tell them I gave the list to… ah!!!”
The Undead swarmed upon him, tearing at his soul.
In just a few seconds, only a gray, empty shell remained sitting in the chair.
Ella walked out of the Royal Gardener’s Lodge, passed by the Royal Garden once more, one hand gripping the lambskin paper, the other brushing aside her cherry-pink hair.
“La~ la la~”
What are you good at? She remembered someone asking her that not long ago.
Let’s put it this way: meticulous schemes, always ongoing in the background. Fierce combat skills, already used when heads needed to roll. Bone-chilling dark magic—Mr. Wesley had just enjoyed a taste of that.
Now, all that was left was a stirring speech to incite the crowd.
***
At the campfire encampment, the scent of war grew ever thicker.
Things weren’t going well for the Kingdom’s army.
Though their overall strength and numbers were overwhelming, standing directly ahead was a Sword Saint, and among the crowd was a Saintess—neither could be dealt with lightly.
Just as they were about to take action, a wild wind swept through, opening a gap in the encirclement.
A little witch wearing a pointed wizard’s hat drifted in.
The Prince had summoned several experts from the Magic Court, and together they suppressed the raging wind element. When they looked closely, they were dumbfounded:
“Vina, what are you doing here? Don’t make trouble!”
“How could I not come?”
The little witch giggled.
“If you think about it, the idea to kill Taidin was mine. I’m actually the mastermind.”
Several old mages nearly blacked out.
“Don’t talk nonsense!”
“Prince, you’ve heard of this child—she never says a word of truth. Don’t believe her.”
“Come here! There’s still time!”
Vina ignored them, glanced around, and exclaimed in delight, “Wow, everyone’s here~”
She whistled at Celes standing by the main gate, gave a thumbs up to Leah surrounded in the crowd, and finally winked toward the shadows beneath the wall.