Krang reflected on his mistake.
It had been a flawed plan from the start. So, the mistake wasn't what mattered.
What mattered was knowing what was needed right now and what had to be done.
And that's what he did.
What he needed was time, and he needed to find a way to buy it.
"Marcus Visar."
"Yes, sir."
"Can you get out and request help?"
"...It seems that's what I must do."
Krang was trapped in the reception room he had been assigned. A small private reception room, which was part of what the palace called the outer chambers.
It wasn't a place fortified for defense, it was just where guests stayed when they visited the palace.
Since he wasn't yet a Grand Duke or anything of the sort, a reception room connected to a bedroom was all the space Krang had.
And now, he was trapped here.
As soon as Krang finished speaking, Matthew, his whip-bearing guard, hurled a stool at the window.
The window shattered with a crash.
Matthew smashed the remaining glass shards with the handle of his whip and cleared them away.
The window was wide. Wide enough for a person to get through.
"My guards will be outside."
Marcus said as he approached the window. It was a three-story drop. Not low, but with the large garden tree in front, if he grabbed onto a branch and broke his fall, he wouldn't die.
Krang remained seated, arms crossed. His mind wasn't cluttered. In fact, things had become quite clear.
Viscount Mernes had started a rebellion.
A reckless, insane move.
'But it's a bold one.'
Krang acknowledged, realizing that the Viscount Mernes, whom he'd thought to be half an idiot, actually had a sharp mind and good instincts.
'Will he use every means at his disposal?'
It was a desperate move, like placing a sharpened dagger under someone's throat.
Everything Krang had done since arriving at the palace for the Grand Duke's inauguration had been for one simple purpose.
It was a straightforward and clear mission.
To gather and eliminate the trash.
It was also the solution to the problem the Queen had given him.
"Make all the ministers your allies."
Krang muttered, raising one knee and hugging it to his chest as he spoke. It was a quiet murmur, meant only for his own ears.
If you turned that command around, it meant getting rid of those who weren't his allies.
If convincing them one by one wasn't possible.
'Then it's just a matter of clearing them all out.'
When he did that, the factions united under Viscount Mernes attacked.
'I thought the factions would keep fighting each other and that they wouldn't have time to deal with me until later.'
But there was no point in pondering the reasons now.
It had been a fight that required a gamble from the beginning, and Krang had made his wager. Now, the results of that gamble were unfolding.
"I'm off."
Marcus said as he leaped out the window.
Krang sprang up and leaned out the window to watch Marcus.
He grabbed onto a branch, slowing his fall, and rolled upon landing.
His fall was perfectly controlled to spread the impact.
He was a trained and disciplined soldier. Upon landing, the guards stationed outside the outer chambers rushed toward him.
Clad in golden helmets with golden spears, they were the Royal Guard.
The very ones meant to protect the Queen were here.
"Kill him!"
"Treason!"
Who's the real traitor here?
Spears were thrust toward Marcus.
Marcus rolled again. Leaves and grass stuck to his face and back. He rolled to his feet and backed up against the tree. His shirt sleeve was torn, flapping loosely at his arm.
Catching his breath, Marcus scanned the area.
He couldn't see his own guards. They were likely in the lobby on the first floor of the chambers and would come soon.
As he thought this, Marcus drew a short dagger from his belt.
"Come on then, you bastards."
He said, darting his eyes left and right. He was ready to take out the first one to come at him. He showed his resolve.
"Surround him!"
The command came from the Royal Guard officer in the dark-gray helmet, who had appeared at some point.
No one rushed forward.
Instead, the golden spears formed a tight circle around him.
It was a perfect encirclement.
'Damn it.'
Marcus cursed inwardly.
In this situation, the simultaneous thrusting of spears was a Royal Guard specialty.
The synchronized, perfectly-timed strike of ten spears could only be defended against by at least a Knight.
Cold sweat trickled down Marcus' back.
"Is that the right path?"
Came a voice.
Krang, leaning out the window, spoke. Though he was isolated and cornered, his authority and dignity remained undiminished.
Krang's authority and dignity came from his character, his personality, and his actions.
He placed one foot on the windowsill and exposed himself. An arrow could fly and kill him in an instant, but hiding and merely raising his voice wouldn't help the situation.
One of the Royal Guards watching this raised his spear and shifted it into a throwing grip.
It was a distance where he could easily throw it and hit the target.
Seeing this, the gray-helmeted officer signaled with his hand.
It was a command to wait. The soldier frowned from inside his helmet.
"It's a signal."
"Shut up. Disobeying orders will get you executed on the spot."
The soldier's eyes glinted, but he eventually lowered his spear.
The officer in the gray helmet raised his head toward Krang.
"Then what is the right path?"
He asked.
He asked the question. As he stood with his spear in hand, his subordinates gathered around him. There were fewer than ten of them.
The palace interior had already descended into chaos, with screams and battles erupting in every corner.
"Right and wrong aren't defined by others."
Krang said slowly and clearly.
For these Royal Guards, what did 'right' even mean?
It meant protecting the Royal Family. The man in the dark gray helmet was torn.
What is the right path?
In his sight was Krang, his hair blowing in the wind.
Even though death would mean the end of everything, he was risking his life to buy just a little time.
But for what?
To save Marcus Visar, the man Viscount Mernes had branded as a traitor.
Did that action hold any meaning?
Would buying a little time really change anything?
He didn't know. This wasn't a calculated decision.
It was simply because Krang believed it was the right thing to do.
At least, that's what it seemed like. That was all he could see.
He had met Krang, spoken with him. That, too, must have had an influence.
He hadn't expected to make this choice in this moment, but he chose his side.
"...Reverse formation. Turn your spears."
"Have you lost your mind?!"
The soldier who had reversed his spear shouted, but the man in the dark gray helmet remained silent.
He had chosen to stand here to protect the Queen. He had believed that this was a more honorable position than becoming a Knight.
But now, what had it come to?
A position where he had to protect the lives of a few insignificant nobles?
A place where he had to raise his spear for them?
He didn't want that.
Honestly, if he could, he'd tell them to piss off and punch them in the face.
Soon, the Royal Guards split into two factions.
They had been divided from the start. A spear flew toward the man in the dark gray helmet.
It was from the soldier who had been frowning earlier.
He turned his body, reducing the area the spear could target.
Dodging the thrust, he parried the spear with his own, then stepped forward with his left foot, bringing his spear down like a club.
Thwack! Crack!
"Agh!"
A scream rang out from the subordinate who raised his arm to block. His arm broke with a single blow, and as he staggered back, others filled his place.
"Have you gone mad?"
Another soldier asked.
"It seems so."
He answered indifferently, and his followers cleared a path for Marcus to escape.
"Thank you."
Marcus said as he slipped away. The man in the dark gray helmet didn't respond, but guarded his retreat.
Without looking back, Marcus made his way to his horse and galloped off. But the danger wasn't over yet.
He had to repeatedly shake off those pursuing him.
Two of his guards followed him, but one of them was killed, and the other stayed behind to buy more time.
At the very end, even a madman from the West had joined the chase. Of course, Marcus didn't have the time to find out who he was.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
The man called out.
Marcus had spurred his horse on quickly, but the pursuer didn't even need a horse—he was running after him, fast enough to almost catch up.
A spear thrown by the pursuer sank into the flesh of Marcus's forearm.
Without time to tend to the wound, Marcus pushed his horse forward. Blood splattered in the air, scattered by the speed of his escape.
"Run, you're the only thing keeping me alive."
Marcus whispered to the horse as he rode toward Andrew's estate. It was his last refuge.
Even his own family, House Visar, could no longer be considered his ally.
* * *
Krang, now left alone in the isolated room, shouted into the silence.
"Do you know who my friend is? None other than the shining star of the Border Guard, the enemy of Aspen, the madman armed with dark power—Encrid!"
No one answered. Matthew questioned him.
"...Do you think it will work?"
"Right? Not working yet, is it?"
Even though his calculation had failed, Krang smiled. He responded with a broad grin to Matthew's question.
"Open the passage."
At least they had secured a secret escape route. It was a sloping tunnel leading downward, a gesture of consideration from the Queen.
'Maybe I just need to hold out for half a day.'
If he could endure that long, he could clear out the gathered trash. The enemy had simply moved half a day earlier than he had expected.
'Starting this mess in broad daylight.'
Krang instinctively knew.
If he wanted to survive and succeed in this endeavor, he needed a wildcard.
The enemy had prepared for that possibility, but so had Krang.
Now, it was time to see it through to the end.
* * *
"Over there."
Rem reacted.
The severity of Marcus's injury, the appearance of the one chasing him.
As soon as Encrid saw it, his mouth opened.
"Take him down."
The pursuer was already someone Rem intended to kill. The one chasing Marcus was the Madman of Immortality.
The one who had escaped before had shown his face here.
Rem leaped off the wall.
Seeing this, Marcus's pursuer suddenly reversed course. With a quick push off the ground, he changed direction and started running back.
The spear that had been thrust into the air also turned around to follow him. It was a retreat without the slightest hesitation. Rem quickly chased after him.
The two moved across the stone pavement faster than a horse.
"Aaah!"
A woman standing absentmindedly by the roadside screamed.
Seeing this, a man—perhaps her lover or husband—pulled her into his arms and pressed them both against the wall of what appeared to be a shop.
In that brief moment, the two figures vanished.
Rem's figure disappeared between the buildings, making it impossible to follow with the eye.
Encrid turned his attention to Marcus, who had now reached him.
Marcus, still mounted, was bleeding profusely from one arm, breathing heavily, and wore a desperate expression he had never shown before.
"Help me."
Encrid decided it was time to move.
As he prepared to climb down from the wall, someone shouted from behind.
"If you flee now, the situation will only get worse!"
It was a Squire. Encrid turned and replied.
"I'm heading to the palace."
The Squire knew whose hands the palace was currently in.
Going there now meant he was willing to risk his life.
For what?
The Squire furrowed his brow. His forehead wrinkled. His nose crinkled.
Suddenly, he began to question why he was there, what he was there for, whose orders had brought him there, and whether he had any will of his own in the matter.
He recalled the words of the Junior Knight who had trained him.
"It's not about right or wrong. It's about where your will lies."
He had become a Squire due to his recognized talent in swordsmanship, but he had always been criticized for his character.
"So what do you think?"
Even when choosing something as simple as a lunch menu, he would always defer to his companions' wishes.
His nature was to be led here and there by others.
That's part of what had brought him to this place.
Not his own will, but the will of others had led him here. He could comfort himself by saying he acted according to orders.
'But is that enough? Is that satisfying?'
'I don't know.'
'Why am I here?'
At Encrid's sudden words, the Squire, who had originally come to capture him, found his resolve.
A strange and peculiar feeling moved his lips.
"The army organized by Viscount Mernes will soon advance."
Raising his voice without meaning to, Encrid blinked as he glanced back.
The look on his face asked, 'Why are you telling me this?'
"The one leading the united factions is no less skilled than a Junior Knight of the order."
"What are you talking about?"
Said the head of security urgently, grabbing the Squire's arm.
The Squire calmly shook off the hand and continued.
"Please help us."
Encrid scratched his head.
Asking him for help? Not exactly something you'd expect from someone who came to arrest him.
But it was hard to ignore the earnestness in his words.
The Squire bowed his head.
Beside him, the Captain of the South Gate guard, wearing a feathered hat, also stepped forward.
"If we do nothing, even the citizens of the Capital will suffer greatly."
Would an army that had marched into the Capital simply sit quietly?
Especially when it was a group cobbled together from various factions?
Among them, there would undoubtedly be mercenaries who sold their swords for gold, and many would be bloodthirsty killers. With nobles unable to be picky in these desperate times, even infamous criminals were likely among them.
For the safety of the citizens.
To protect the Capital.
Both of them stepped forward and bowed their heads.
"Ragna, you can stop them, right?"
Ragna didn't ask, "Do I have to?" He simply stared into Encrid's eyes.
"Go stop them. Dunbachel, go with him."
With Ragna and Dunbachel together, they would be able to stop the elite troops pushing from the front.
"What's your name?"
Encrid asked the Squire.
"Lawford, sir."
"Gather the remaining forces and block the incoming enemy. Hold the gate and my unit will handle any challengers who request duels."
If they saved Krang but ended up surrounded by the incoming enemy, it would be over anyway.
Encrid understood this situation both instinctively and logically.
His sense, developed during those countless days trapped among enemies, repeating the same day over and over, was now lighting the way.
He knew what had to be done.
Hold off the external forces and clean up the internal situation.
Unless Krang was completely clueless, what he needed now was time.
Encrid realized where he needed to be at this moment.
"Let's go."
Ragna spoke after hearing Encrid's order.
It wasn't a request, it was a command. Without a word, Ragna and Dunbachel turned and moved.
Off to the side, Marcus was panting heavily, his skin pale.
Jaxon stepped up beside Encrid.
As they crossed over the wall, the remaining forces stood idly by, turning their heads left and right.
Should they follow the man named Ragna?
Or should they chase after the departing Encrid?
In their view, they saw the fallen officer and the head of security, drenched in sweat beside him.
"Didn't we take up spears to defend the Capital? At least that's why I did. Those who want to stay can stay."
Squire Lawford said.
Every person has moments of growth and realization.
This was such a moment for Lawford.
The catalyst had been Encrid's single statement about going to the palace.
"Let's go."
He followed Ragna, and the Captain of the South Gate guard followed him. The soldiers who had already resolved themselves joined in, while the remaining head of security muttered curses under his breath before saying:
"Let's go, time to fulfill our duty."
At least his words sounded noble.
Of course, Andrew also stepped forward.
He knew that going to the palace alone now would achieve nothing, so he decided to stay and defend the wall. He told five trainees to stay behind.
"We've trained hard, risking life and limb."
Said a freckled female trainee.
The five trainees followed behind Andrew, and Mac attempted to join, but Andrew shook his head.
"You're a butler now. Stay and guard."
With that, he joined the group of six as they followed those who had already left.
Ragna, at the front, walked unsteadily, and Dunbachel followed closely beside him.
"This seemed more interesting, right?"
Ragna said casually, nodding his head.
Squire Lawford, walking alongside them, shook his head inwardly.
Interesting? This was no time to be concerned with such things. After walking a little further, he spoke up. They were headed in the wrong direction.
"We need to go to the west gate."
Lawford said.
"Hmm, this way, right?"
"No, that's north."
Lawford spoke to the swordsman leading the group and took the lead himself.
It seemed their sense of direction wasn't particularly sharp.