It's night already... how long has it been?
Two—no, three nights since Peter's death.
I still hear his sweet, tender voice... A kind-hearted man. And yet, because he bled not the same blood as I, he was killed. That was his only crime.
"Right this way," said one knight.
"Okay, okay, I see it," replied a girl, her hands and legs both chained.
"This will be your cell for tonight, until there's available room in the female prison," the knight added.
"Yh, whatever," the chained girl muttered, clearly unbothered.
We were both prisoners—chained, accused of crimes, and awaiting trial.
She glanced at me as she entered the prison, her eyes narrowing the moment she noticed I wasn't a commoner. My posture, my aura—it gave me away. A noble-born. A knight-to-be.
She looked ragged, her clothes torn, her skin covered in soot and dust.
"Mary. Mary Hennessy," she said flatly.
"That's my name. What's yours?"
She made the first move—initiated the conversation. So I followed.
"Johannes. Mage Knight student."
"Technician. That's my work," she said with emphasis.
A technician? She didn't look the part. And what kind of technician ends up in prison?
"This kingdom is corrupt," she spat.
"Rising taxes on the poor—for no apparent reason."
There's fire in her voice, I noted. Not hatred. But worry—for her people.
"Life's not the same for everyone. Even among godbloods, a divide still exists. Not as cruel as between us and the non-godbloods, but still—nobility vs commoners."
"I'm from the craftsman village, down east in the Megmura province. Known for mining in Virellium—because of the World Tree in our land."
"Our people craft manaments for the Mage Knights. Our work is revered across the realm. But ever since the king died, tax officers started charging us 15% more than the law demands. I despise royals and nobles, feeding off our sweat."
She doesn't even realize the envy in her eyes. A girl who worked for every crumb, while I've always been served on golden plates... Yet look at me now—eating from the ground like a commoner.
"What's your crime, exactly?" I asked.
"I beat up a tax officer," she said without shame.
"He charged my poor mom an extra 15%."
Bold.
"And you?" she asked.
"I'm here not for protecting my community—but for something worse. A crime worthy of capital punishment."
Her confident expression shifted. The words capital punishment unsettled her.
"If I may ask... what crime could a noble commit to warrant execution?"
"I fought—for a friend. No—a brother. We shared no blood, but we shared a heart. He was accused of being non-godblood. They sentenced him to death."
"I couldn't just watch. Mage Knights died in the struggle. Now here I am."
She's stunned. Confused. Her eyes flicker with doubt.
Should she even speak with me? A heretic in her eyes?
I didn't mean to—but I read her thoughts. I didn't activate the power; it triggered on its own, out of curiosity.
"I see you love your mother," I said.
"Yes, I do. Nothing comes close."
"If she were a non-godblood... would you still love her?" I asked.
"She's not. She's pure godblood, through and through. And even if she wasn't... I couldn't associate with a non-godblood. I can't go against the will of God—not even the Emperor of Tumedia would dare."
"Why lie to yourself?" I said.
"I feel it—the beat of your heart. You're scared. It's not the first time that question has crossed your mind."
The night passed.
The guards arrived early, ready to transfer Mary to a proper female cell. She bade me goodbye and prayed God would accept my soul after the execution.
I no longer feared death. The day was near.
Tomorrow, Peter, I'll join you. Let it be hell—I'll find you there.
---
Far from the prison, in the royal throne room—a place not made by men, but by God himself—the road to the throne shimmered like diamonds. The throne was pure gold.
Flanking the chamber were nine seats: four on the left, four on the right, and one in the center rear. These were the seats of the noble houses of Ostina:
- The Freiburg Family
- The Keller Family
- The Olberic Family
- The Nürnberg Family
- The Habsburg Family
- The Packson Family (banished for harboring a non-godblood—the head executed)
- The Azelhart Family
- The Eisenberg Family
And the center seat was for the Prime Minister, who presides over the council.
"There's no time to waste," said the head of the Albright Family.
"The king is dead. Weeks have passed. Other nations eye us like prey. We have a World Tree within our borders—do you understand what that means? We need a monarch."
"He's right," said Paul Keller.
"This kingdom is in disarray. Reports of non-godbloods crossing the wall are increasing. The Packson family is gone. Even Mathias hasn't shown up."
"Who's fit to rule?" asked the Eisenberg patriarch.
"I fear the Tumedia Empire may seize this moment. Their ruler—he alone could fight ten thousand men."
"I am fit to rule," said Troy Habsburg, the late king's younger brother.
"The king had only one child—a daughter, fourteen years old. The crown should remain with the Habsburgs."
"Order in the room," Prime Minister Drevail interjected.
"I propose strength. Let us imitate the Tumedia Empire. Purge all non-godbloods. Wage holy war. Cleanse the kingdom and punish the heretics who murdered our king!" shouted Osvald Albright.
"I agree," said the Keller patriarch.
"The Prime Minister should serve as interim monarch and issue the decree as divine law."
---
Later that day, within the hallowed Cathedral, the Prime Minister was crowned interim king by the High Priest himself.
His first act: declare 30-day high military readiness.
All knights were ordered to return to their stations.
An envoy was sent to the Tumedia Empire—to extend peace... or perhaps, to stall.
"So dreams do come true," said the Prime Minister.
"For I sit on this throne, speaking with authority."
"I worked hard for this day. Ever since I was elected Prime Minister, I have always longed to claim the throne. Every time I walked into this chamber to preside over the council, the throne called out to me. It whispered in silence, asking me to sit upon it, to dine with it... to pervert it."
His actions were nothing short of unholy—sin incarnate. For he defiled the sacred throne not just with his presence, but with his desires. The ornate holes crafted into its ancient design—symbols once believed to channel divine energy—he gave them a second, vile function. A madman, truly, beyond redemption.
Yet while madness took root in the heart of the palace, the kingdom's military remained steadfast and vigilant.
The military command was divided into five regional commands, each based on geography: Southern Command, Eastern, Central, Western, and Northern. Each was led by a noble, a war-hardened elite known as a Knight in Command. Beneath them were meticulously structured units made up of knights, mages, archers, men-at-arms, and more.
Though they had not been told what was coming, the commanders felt an unease.
Something dark brewed in the shadows of the realm.
And so, they prepared—for war, for treason, or perhaps for something worse.