There were four major noble families in the Kingdom of Prona.
The ducal Oler family of the South.
The comital Sentry family of the East.
The ducal Collins family of the North.
The comital Lopez family of the West.
They mandated a prominent, king-like authority in their respective domains. That’s why the legitimate heir of the Oler family, Calion Oler, felt like the ground had slipped from under his feet.
‘Why are the North and West kneeling?’
A great aristocrat is someone from whom even the king cannot carelessly command servitude.
It looked strange that such people would not only kneel, but also comply with the summons?
The more the capital’s authority decreases, the better it will be for them, so why were they trying to help the royalty?
‘Are they trying to elicit gratitude from the clumsy queen?’
While Calion formulated speculation of his own, Cloud reached out to the ruler of the northern and western regions of Prona.
“Thank you for answering the call even though it was close to an unilateral summon. You must have had a hard time amassing the army in such hurry.”
“No. I just did my duty as a vassal.”
“So did I.”
After speaking, Duke Collins took out a round metal plaque from his bosom and placed it on Cloud’s palm.
A dragon pattern embedded on the distinct metal plate.
The eyes of the aristocrats who recognized it trembled involuntarily.
“T, The emblem of the Perdiac family…?”
One of the Five Great Ducal families of the Empire and the only Imperial family that produced the Hero, Frillite.
A behemoth they didn’t even deserve to meet as mere nobles of a kingdom.
That was the Imperial ducal Perdiac family.
Why was Cloud holding the family emblem and not Frillite?
Cloud, noticing the suspicious eyes of the nobles, tucked the plaque into his bosom and clarified.
“It’s not a family emblem, it’s a VIP plaque. Of course, it’s a gift.”
Who gave him the VIP plaque as a gift?
It wasn’t too difficult to think.
There was only one person in the Perdiac family who could have contact with him.
‘Frillite de Perdiac…’
The faces of the aristocrats hardened as they recalled the reputation of the Crimson Phantom. The risk of her being included was not in the plan.
If they had known in advance that Cloud and Frillite were this close, they would have never stepped into this quagmire.
Frillite, she alone, heralded influence stronger than that of Lorian and his family.
That was to say, they had done themselves more harm than good in trying to please their royal prince.
The nobles chewed their lips as they calculated the damage their family would suffer from this incident.
Cloud asked the mustached man.
“Is there anything else you want to say?”
“…Hero, it’s a misunderst—”
“Doesn’t look like one.”
Cloud’s sword gleamed through the air. A solid red line formed around his neck as the mustachioed man blinking his eyes blearily. The red line became more and more apparent.
“Uh..?”
Those were the last words of his life.
When Cloud pushed, his head and body separated and rolled along the floor. Having lost the head, neck spewed blood, soaking the garbs of the nobles and knights around him.
Silence ensued.
No one in the inn was any longer screaming or making a fuss. The nobles were staring at the corpse or considering Cloud with blanched expressions.
Meanwhile, Calion cautiously opened his mouth.
“…Hero. Isn’t this too much? To fling off the necks of the nobles as if it were a commoner’s. Would you be able to handle the consequences?”
His words sounded like a warning at first glance.
However, digging into it, one could see that it was just a servile begging for life.
He begged for their lives, not to kill them because they were nobles.
Cloud replied, wiping the blood smear off his cheek.
“I don’t think my head will fly off if I kill one or two of these blasted guys. And it won’t be any different if it gets to three.”
“…”
Calion, not wanting to be the third, shut his mouth. So did the others. Cloud turned his attention away from the frayed nobles.
“Duke Collins, Earl Lopez. I’m sorry for asking you this right after you arrived, but please incarcerate them.”
He stalked out of the inn without saying anything further. As he prowled alone along the dark side of the avenue, he pulled out the VIP plaque of the Perdiac family from his bosom.
He thought distractedly, ‘I had no intention of using it for political purposes…’
Would Frillite be angry when she were to find out?
No, he would be glad if it just terminated with her being disgruntled.
What if they broke up?
Cloud looked at the VIP plaque with an appraising gaze, then crushed it with dull force.
* * *
Lorian opened his eyes at the strange sensation of something undulating about his body.
Purple full moon.
Beneath it was a vast plain, above which stretcthed withering and dying grass.
Looking at the mysterious and desolate landscape, Lorian blinked.
“What…”
He bowed his head. When he wondered what emanted the strange feeling, purple thorny vines writhed around his body.
His mind was a bleary mess, but this was familiar.
Witch of Constraints.
It was her thorny vine.
‘What? Why am I tied to this? I’m sure…’
He was startled.
Lorian shuddered as he roused up and recalled what had happened. Slowly, his face contorted viciously.
“Darned Witch of Constraints!”