"What do you mean, take you with me? Why would I do that?" Porisco stared at Ghislain in shock. Ghislain, as calm as ever, replied, "I’d like to meet His Majesty." "Then why don’t you ask Marquis Branford? Why come to me for this?" "He said it’s not possible right now." "No, absolutely not. If I take you, that’ll be the day His Majesty passes away." "..." "You’d undoubtedly rile him up so much that he’d die from sheer anger." "What kind of person do you think I am...?" "Exactly the kind of person I see before me!" The king’s frail health had made everyone around him extremely cautious. If someone like Ghislain were to provoke the king into a fatal outburst, Porisco—being the one who brought him—would also face ruin. Porisco, desperate, tried to reason with him. "Look, I hate to say it, but His Majesty is practically a corpse. He has no real power left. There’s no reason for you to meet him. Why are you even so insistent about this?" "I just have a few questions for him," Ghislain said casually. It was clear that the Ducal Faction’s obsession with the royal family wasn’t just about winning the war. Their true goal seemed to lie elsewhere. However, nobody knew why they’d started the conflict in the first place. Not even Marquis Branford had an answer. Everyone assumed they simply wanted to seize the kingdom, but Ghislain suspected there was a deeper reason. He wanted to find out if the king knew anything. And, while he was at it, he hoped to ask about the Shadow Knights. Porisco’s expression turned incredulous. "So... you just want to satisfy your curiosity? That’s it?" Ghislain nodded. Porisco’s voice wavered as he pleaded, "Do you think the king is your buddy? Someone you can visit whenever you feel like it, just because you’re curious? And we’re talking about someone who’s teetering on death’s door!" "..." "Can’t you stop tormenting me for once? I’ve done everything you’ve asked! Gave you Fiote, handed over holy relics, donated all my assets to you!" "..." "I even invested secretly in the cosmetics business! I’ve diverted all the church’s funds into it, and yet you keep putting me in these awkward positions!" "..." "And even if I took you with me, you still wouldn’t be able to meet the king." "Why not?" "Because Marquis Branford personally oversees everything, including vetting all the assistant priests. It’s pointless to ask me." "Hm..." Ghislain sighed. If Branford was handling security that thoroughly, it would be impossible to sneak in unnoticed. Given Branford’s commitment to protecting the royal family, it made sense. Porisco, after venting, glanced around nervously before leaning in to whisper, "Even if you did manage to meet him, the king wouldn’t like you." Ghislain frowned in disbelief. "How can he dislike me if we haven’t even met?" "Because Marquis Branford supports you. The king despises him." "Why is that?" Marquis Branford, despite holding all the power, was loyal to the royal family. If he had any ambition for the throne, he could have taken it long ago. The idea that the king disliked him was puzzling. Porisco gave Ghislain a look that said, How can you not know this? "Obviously, because Branford holds all the power." "But His Majesty isn’t in any condition to govern, is he?" "Still, that’s not how people feel. Everyone keeps quiet about it, but every time I see the king, he complains about Branford. Constantly." "What does he say?" "Stuff like, ‘He thinks he’s the real king,’ ‘He disrespects the royal family,’ ‘I’ve been a puppet my whole life,’ and, uh... something about being under constant surveillance. Anyway, the guy’s losing it. Probably senile." "Hm." "But what can anyone do? He can’t even stand on his own two feet. Without Branford, the kingdom would have collapsed into chaos. The nobles are all a mess, but Branford’s strength keeps things running." Porisco said this without the slightest awareness that he himself was part of the mess. Ghislain nodded thoughtfully. "I see." It seemed the king had led a tiring life. From what little he knew, the Shadow Knights had wielded immense power, which must have weighed heavily on the king. The extent of that power must have been greater than Ghislain had initially thought, for the king to harbor such bitterness. Even in his weakened state, he still resented Branford. To cling to power so desperately, even when one’s body was failing... Such was the insidious allure of authority. Ghislain nodded again, accepting what Porisco had said. "Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it for now. I’ll look for another opportunity to meet him later." He would have to figure out a safer way to approach the king. Porisco’s face lit up with relief as he nodded. "Good, good. You’ve made the right decision. You’re practically a national hero, so the chance will come. Just... don’t do anything rash." But then Porisco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You’re not planning to sneak in wearing a mask or something, are you?" "What kind of person do you think I am?" "I think you’re exactly that kind of person. Don’t even think about it. You’ll cause chaos! The king might die of a heart attack, and you’ll instantly be branded a traitor." "..." From everyone’s warnings, it seemed the king’s condition was indeed extremely fragile. "Relax, I won’t. I have enough on my plate as it is." Ghislain shook his head and stood up. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to push forward with his plans, but knowing how close the king was to death made him pause. Maybe I should find something to help improve his health. Since it wasn’t an urgent matter, he decided to give it more thought. Worst case, he could interrogate the Ducal Faction or the Salvation Order leaders for answers later. For now, it seemed wiser to wait for the right opportunity. "Alright, I’m off. Take care," Ghislain said. Porisco watched him leave with a worried expression, silently praying he wouldn’t cause any trouble. Ghislain, meanwhile, glanced toward Rosalyn. She was surrounded by noblewomen, enthusiastically showing off her bracelet. She looked happier than Ghislain had ever seen her. With a faint smile, he approached Mariel, handing her a bracelet as well. "Keep this a secret. Rosalyn thinks hers is one of a kind. Hide it well." Mariel laughed and carefully tucked the bracelet away. It seemed she’d be choosing wide-sleeved dresses for a while to keep it hidden. After all, she was one of Rosalyn’s biggest supporters. *** Raul sat with a somber expression after hearing the news from the Ducal Faction. All four legions had been annihilated. And it was practically the work of the Northen Army alone. As he reviewed the reports detailing the battles, Raul's face showed signs of exhaustion and disbelief for the first time. "Count Fenris..." He was extraordinary. How could one individual manage to fight at such an overwhelming level? Raul had known Ghislain was skilled. He had accounted for that and even deployed transcendent-level individuals as bait. That had allowed him to push back the kingdom’s army. And even when he anticipated Ghislain’s return and the Second Legion's defeat, he split his forces to prevent the Northen Army from overwhelming them all at once. The strategy was designed for a quick capture of the capital and the king. The ultimate goal was worth sacrificing the rest of the legions. But for one Count Fenris to overturn everything? "I don’t understand... How can they exhibit such mobility?" Even after reading the reports, it was hard to believe. A more plausible explanation was that multiple armies disguised as Count Fenris' forces had appeared simultaneously across the battlefield. The advisors in the room were equally silent. None could grasp how it was possible. Raul's face tightened as he muttered, "I should have killed him back then." If only he had acted during that banquet long ago, no matter the cost. His critical mistake was thinking of him as merely a promising young noble. Instead, he had turned out to be an unfathomable monster. The heavy silence in the room was broken by Gatros. "Once, the Shadows stood in our way, and now it’s Count Fenris. The royal family’s lifeline seems unyieldingly persistent." Raul cast a sharp glance at Gatros. At the time of the Shadows, Raul had been too young to hold a commanding position in court and only had a vague understanding of the events. "Perhaps we were too cautious. Maybe we should’ve pressed forward more openly," he muttered. "No," Gatros replied, shaking his head. "The fear of the Shadow Knight Commander kept us in check. The damage we suffered was too great, and we had to rebuild our strength." The Salvation Order had been active in various parts of the continent for centuries. After years of silence, they had finally built up their power and made their first major move in the Kingdom of Ruthania. "And we tasted failure the moment we began." The Order had known about the Shadow Knights of Ruthania and prepared extensively to counter them, yet they still suffered defeat. The Shadow Knight Commander had left an indelible mark of fear on the Order, including Gatros and Melkir. Raul gritted his teeth as he recalled the rumors. How could one individual inspire such terror? Even though he was just one person, the Order had spent over a decade scouring for any trace of him. It was only after confirming his disappearance that they began planning to reclaim the kingdom. Raul knew the stories of high-ranking priests dying in droves during that time. He, too, had tread carefully, fearing a similar fate. But looking at the situation now, their caution had allowed the emergence of a new monster—Count Fenris. "Perhaps we were too conservative with our resources," Raul said, frustrated. "We should’ve started the war earlier, even if it meant taking risks." "No," Gatros countered firmly. "The Forest of Beasts was a dangerous place. If it truly was the sacred ground we seek, its guardians would have been protecting it. Preserving our forces was the right choice at the time." Gatros continued, nodding with conviction. "Additionally, we had to maintain secrecy. That’s why we couldn’t fully commit back then. The appearance of Count Fenris was an unforeseen factor—no one could have predicted it. We can’t know everything." The Salvation Order had opted for a careful, methodical approach after their initial failure. They were accustomed to waiting, and patience had always been their strength. Gatros spread his arms wide, a serene smile on his face. "Things are still better than they were. Can’t you feel it? The divine energy is rising in the world. In the end, we will be victorious." Raul said nothing. He couldn’t deny Gatros’ claim, but he personally felt nothing of the sort. However, he couldn’t entirely dismiss it either. The rate at which rifts were opening had indeed accelerated, and the number of high-ranking priests in the Order was steadily growing. Clearly, there was something he couldn’t perceive. Gatros’ eyes glimmered with fervor as he added, "We need to find the King soon. Once we locate him, our wish can be fulfilled much faster." Raul cautiously asked, "Wouldn’t it be better to focus all our resources on finding this King?" "That’s not possible," Gatros replied. "Even if we find the King, without the Relics, our wish cannot be realized. That’s why Ruthania’s royal family must fall first." Raul frowned slightly. He still didn’t fully understand what the Relics were or how they were to be used. But he chose to drop the matter, shaking his head in resignation. "Then I hope we find one elsewhere soon." As far as Raul knew, the Relics weren’t unique to Ruthania. Salvation priests were searching for them in other kingdoms as well. Finding just one would suffice to open the path to their sacred ground. However, since Ruthania was confirmed to have one such Relic, Gatros had chosen to focus his efforts here. Raul, on the other hand, simply wanted the Relic found to bring an end to this stifling situation. The sooner this madness ends, the better. The fixation on finding the Relic severely constrained their strategies. Even in this war, their objective wasn’t territorial expansion but the royal family itself. The Salvation Order’s peculiar priorities left Raul exasperated. He wanted the Relic discovered so they could move forward. Raul’s thoughts were interrupted when the door to the meeting room swung open. The sight of the man entering made Raul flinch. "Count Balzac." Standing there, exuding the presence of a lion and the strength of a steel tower, was the Kingdom’s greatest swordsman, Count Kaien Balzac. He fixed Raul with a steady gaze and said, "Viscount Josef, there’s no need to overthink. Abandon the idea of minimizing casualties." Raul’s eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" "Everything has gone awry because of Count Fenris. Send word to the vassals—summon all remaining troops. I will take command of the Southern Army. The orders from His Highness have already been issued." Raul’s expression stiffened. "You don’t mean..." "Yes," Balzac said, his tone resolute. "I will personally seize the capital. And..." His eyes gleamed with malice as a ferocious smile spread across his face. "I’ll wipe out the Northen Army while I’m at it."