A few days after the disastrous banquet ended in utter chaos.
Carolus and his entourage, now in an awkward position, hurried to set out on their return journey.
It was inevitable—after all, an attempted assassin of the emperor had entered the empire as a member of the kingdom’s delegation.
Naturally, the glances from those around them were far from friendly.
Even though the situation had been handled as best as possible, the tension in the air made it clear they had overstayed their welcome.
Thus, they decided to leave on their own accord.
“Your Majesty, we will take our leave now. I hope you remain in good health.”
“I’ll see you again soon at the armistice negotiations. I’ve put the agreements in writing, so if you fail to honor them, prepare yourself.”
And with that…
Who will take care of the Demon King now?
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
The kingdom’s delegation departed.
To bid farewell to the departing guests who wisely chose an appropriate time to leave, the empire held a modest send-off ceremony.
There were no salutes or fireworks, but instead, the Emperor himself personally escorted them.
This was an act of consideration—not overly rude, but also avoiding any unnecessary provocations that could lead to further conflicts.
“If only I had a son-in-law like you,”
“If only I had a brilliant lord like Your Majesty, I would have no regrets. Alas, I was born in the kingdom instead…”
Carolus replied, mixing a complaint that was about 140% sincere under the guise of a mere pleasantry.
Then, he mounted his horse and set off toward the capital of his kingdom.
The emperor watched quietly as the delegation and their escorts grew smaller in the distance.
Standing beside him, one of his ministers finally broke the silence.
“They’re finally gone.”
“‘Already gone’ might be more accurate. Normally, they would have stayed at least another week.”
The one speaking was none other than Sebastian de Leclerc, the former commander-in-chief of the western front, now retired from active duty.
“I still cannot understand their foolish loyalty. Was it truly necessary to let them leave so peacefully? The attempted assassination alone would have been enough justification to execute them all without repercussions.”
The emperor shook his head in response, his expression resolute.
The incident was no trivial matter—it was an assassination attempt on the Emperor himself.
Not just any noble or a distant member of the royal family, but the ruler of the empire!
If he hadn’t discarded his drink at the last moment, they might already be holding his funeral.
The situation could have easily justified executing them all under the pretext of treason.
So why? Why did the Emperor so readily accept Carolus’s proposal? Why spare a major political figure from a hostile nation?
Sebastian, a long-time friend of the Emperor, voiced his confusion.
In response, the Emperor replied as if the answer were obvious.
“Because we couldn’t kill him.”
“…Excuse me?”
“We couldn’t kill him, that bastard Carolus. Even if we had tried with all our might, he’d have somehow survived and fled back to the kingdom.”
Recalling the events at the banquet, Emperor Louis XVI visibly shuddered.
The memory was still vivid—the assassins falling like autumn leaves as they were subdued.
“You wouldn’t know because you weren’t there. Carolus killed people barehanded. No weapons, nothing—just his fists and feet. He swung his arms and kicked, and grown men collapsed, lifeless.”
It had been a sudden attack.
Surely, Carolus wouldn’t have been armed for safety reasons.
Yet with only his hands and feet, he crushed bones and struck lethal points with brutal precision.
He displayed techniques that even elite assassins wouldn’t have been able to match, all with unnerving ease.
And it wasn’t one-on-one combat either. He was half-surrounded by five or six assassins.
Yet, without breaking a sweat, he massacred them as if it were a routine task—calm, unfazed, and efficient.
“That bastard Carolus isn’t just an officer. As a warrior, he’s reached a level of mastery.
Even if he were to face our imperial knights in a duel, I’m certain he’d easily emerge victorious.”
“…He’s that formidable?”
“If you’d seen it for yourself, you’d undoubtedly agree with me.”
And to make matters worse, this human weapon didn’t come to the empire alone.
He was accompanied by a full escort of hundreds of guards.
The veterans accompanying Carolus were handpicked from the North Army (referred to as the South Army in the Empire)—highly skilled individuals whose capabilities were beyond question.
Even in the direst of circumstances, while it might be impossible to ensure the escape of the entire group, they could certainly secure the safe return of Carolus alone to the kingdom.
It goes without saying that if he survived such an ordeal, his hatred for the Empire would grow exponentially.
That’s why it was better to let him leave peacefully.
No need to poke the hornet’s nest and invite disaster.
“Of course, that’s not the only reason,” the Emperor admitted.
“Part of it was also about earning his favor.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Do you think Carolus von Royten is someone who would be content with his current position? A man who wields such power at such a young age?”
Ah, and there was one more thing—to establish a connection with the future leader of the kingdom.
At present, Carolus von Royten was undeniably the central figure of the kingdom’s political sphere.
According to intelligence reports, he controlled a massive faction and effectively dictated the actions of the assembly.
If, upon his return, Carolus succeeded in punishing those responsible for the war, conducting purges, and launching sweeping political reforms, his power would soon be firmly cemented.
Not just as a politician, but at a level comparable to that of a sovereign.
It was entirely plausible that he could render King Carl VII a mere figurehead and rule the nation as he pleased.
Drafting any law he desired, enjoying unparalleled authority, and embodying the dignity of one above all others—such feats would be well within his grasp.
‘He seemed to have some measure of self-restraint… but the throne is one of those things that sometimes finds its way to you, even when you don’t want it,’ the Emperor mused.
While Carolus had publicly declared his intent to reform the system by reducing the Riodolph royal family to powerless figureheads… well, who could say if things would go according to his plan?
Not everyone around Carolus was likely to agree with his vision.
Surely, there were those who thought it better to establish a new, competent dynasty rather than preserve a puppet royal family.
As someone who had ruled as Emperor of the Empire for decades and mastered the art of power.
Louis XVI assessed that the probability of Carolus’s declaration failing was higher than its success.
“A little kindness and generosity can sometimes return as great rewards in the future,” he remarked.
He had resolved an issue that could have escalated into a significant diplomatic conflict at the cost of a single county.
On top of that, he even guaranteed their safe return.
It was an exceedingly magnanimous decision, to say the least.
With such an approach, there would likely be no problem in dealing with the new regime that would soon take power in the kingdom.
Meanwhile, in the capital city of the Ulranor Kingdom, Rahator:
“Ha, haha… To think it was actually true. His Excellency was right all along.”
“Those damned nobles… They’ve been hiding this truth from us all this time?”
Officers, who had finally uncovered the secret of a decade ago, spoke in unison, their voices filled with frustration and indignation.
Under the command of Colonel Kys from the Kingdom’s Intelligence Bureau, they had spent months combing through old records—meeting minutes, personal memoirs, financial ledgers, and more.
After a thorough investigation and compilation of all the data, they had finally unearthed the truth.
The truth of why this war had started, and who was responsible for it.
“In all my twenty-odd years in the military, never have I felt so ashamed of my homeland as I do today.”
The answer they had painstakingly uncovered over weeks of grueling work completely invalidated their sense of purpose and morality.
Despite their roles requiring exceptional loyalty and patriotism, and despite being rigorously trained in obedience and fidelity, even they couldn’t hide their despair in the face of the disgraceful reality of their nation.
Their disappointment and emptiness were palpable.
The disgrace of their homeland was too great for even their steadfast loyalty to withstand.
“Now I understand why the Empire has been so relentlessly attacking us. I would’ve done the same in their place,” one officer muttered bitterly.
“Our soldiers’ sacrifices and dedication… it was all for nothing. They died meaningless deaths, wasted on a war with no cause or justification.”
A spontaneous outpouring of complaints erupted, with everyone hurling curses and venting their frustration.
That is, until Colonel Kys voiced a sudden question.
“But how is this even possible?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“It was a war. No matter the reasons, it’s not something that could have been decided easily. So why is it that, no matter how many documents we sift through, there isn’t a single record of any opposition movement?”
“…What?”
Now that they thought about it, he was right.
Politics, by nature, often involves heated debates and clashes of opinion over even trivial matters, like redecorating the palace or renovating government buildings.
A matter as monumental as war should have prompted days or even weeks of arguments and fierce debates in royal council meetings.
In fact, it would have been stranger if it hadn’t.
And yet…
“Was there really such unanimous agreement? To recklessly throw the nation’s resources and manpower into an all-out war?”
“Maybe they were all brainwashed or something? That’s the only explanation that makes any sense.”
“I want to laugh and say there’s no such thing as mind-control magic… but honestly, that’s starting to sound like the most plausible theory.”
For some reason, there was no trace of any faction opposing the war.
Nobles who were typically divided into rival factions had suddenly united their voices in a call for decisive battle.
Anyone who showed even the slightest hesitation was met with harsh criticism as the push for military mobilization gained unstoppable momentum.
“This kingdom maintained friendly relations with the Empire for over a century. Surely a pro-Empire faction should have emerged at some point,” someone muttered.
Was it truly possible that not a single faction supported the longstanding ally of the kingdom?
Surely, in the past, there must have been festivals celebrating the friendship between the two nations.
It was undeniably strange.
Even if the royal family and the political majority had advocated for war, the consistency of their stance was unnaturally uniform.
Could it be that such factions had existed but their records had been erased?
As the doubts began to grow, a voice interrupted Kys’s thoughts.
“Colonel Kys, sir? You have a visitor.”
“I’m busy. Tell them to come back later.”
“Well… it’s the father of Lady Arschach. He says he has crucial information you must hear.”
“…Let him in.”
It seemed someone had arrived with the answers they sought.
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