The day of execution arrives.
The morning fog has not yet fully lifted when the green field of Nimurelle is already filled with citizens. It is not crowded, for the land is too vast, yet there are enough of them to form a great circle surrounding the tall wooden stake at the center of the field.
At the top of that stake, Oliver is bound. His head is lowered. His hands are shackled. Two executioners stand behind him, their greatswords ready to descend the moment the signal is given.
Layered security is arranged neatly around the stake. The infantry forms the first line. Behind them, the cavalry waits with spears upright. Farther still, archers are prepared in elevated positions. If a riot breaks out and the citizens must be dispersed, a rain of arrows will fall without warning.
The only gap is the main entrance—and even that is guarded most heavily.
Zeco steps forward onto a small wooden platform that rises slightly above the ground. His voice echoes without the aid of magic.
"BEHOLD! THE DAY OF EXECUTION HAS ARRIVED!"
The citizens erupt in cheers.
"Ready!" "Execute him!" "Finish him!" "Scum of the world!"
On a grand chair placed upon higher ground, Johan sits at ease. His gaze sweeps across the field, calculating the position of every Vanguard.
Loki and Albert sit apart, as though they are mere spectators. Jiza stands alone at the side of the field, near the citizens yet sufficiently distant from the guards.
Johan smiles faintly.
"Let us see what you will do, puppets," he murmurs.
---
"Are you going to act?" Loki asks. Albert sits beside him, watching the execution unfold.
"I do not know. The man who calls himself Johan knows our weaknesses, even Jiza's," Albert replies.
Loki exhales. "It is burdensome to think about, is it not?"
Albert turns toward him. "He knows each of our weaknesses. I know mine, and you know yours. What if I grow curious about yours? I will answer with mine in return."
Loki lowers his gaze. "My weakness is the fear of losing my sister, Jiza. She means a great deal in my life. I would rather enter politics and remain in the same chamber as my own sister—though we are not close and seldom speak—than witness in a newspaper or with my own eyes that she is gone, and lose her from my life."
He inhales and exhales once more, lifting his eyes to the sky.
"I even petitioned and swore to the government that Jiza would be pardoned and made part of it, sacrificing myself to serve and swear loyalty. If I betray them, I will be declared a world fugitive and executed."
"And you?" Loki asks, turning to Albert.
Albert gazes upward. "My weakness is my father, who swore loyalty and devoted himself to the government—specifically to the sorcerer. He became part of it thereafter, a Vanguard of the previous generation."
He lowers his head slightly.
"Perhaps because the sorcerer demanded more of his oath, my father sacrificed the next seven generations. Should his children or grandchildren enter politics, the oath applies and descends upon me—and upon my future descendants. If I betray them, I will be declared a world fugitive and executed."
"I see," Loki replies, turning his attention back to the field.
"The answer is obvious, is it not? Betrayal is difficult when one must face such consequences. Rather than troubling ourselves with the chaos below, we may simply watch it unfold. Why not?"
---
Zeco raises his hand.
"To make this more thrilling, let us count down together!"
The cheers grow wilder.
"From ten!"
"TEN!"
"10!!!"
"NINE!"
"9!!!"
"EIGHT!"
"8!!!"
Amid the crowd, five cloaked figures move slowly. They do not remain close to one another. They are scattered, slipping through citizens too occupied with cheering to notice.
"SEVEN!"
"7!!!"
"SIX!"
"6!!!"
Olivia lowers her head, her face concealed beneath her cloak. Her hand reaches for a small object hidden within the folds of fabric.
"FIVE!"
"5!!!"
She casts a brief glance toward two separate points across the field.
"FOUR!"
"4!!!"
Santiago is already in position. Bartra regulates his breathing.
"THREE!"
"3!!!"
The cheers shake the air.
"TWO!"
"2!!!"
Johan leans slightly forward.
"Here it comes," he whispers.
"NOW!"
At that very second—
"Santiago. Bartra," Olivia murmurs.
Two projectiles are released simultaneously.
A solid object strikes the hilt of the first executioner's sword. A bullet pierces the shoulder of the second.
Both collapse before their blades can fall.
The crowd's roar swallows the small explosions.
"ONE!!!"
For the span of a single breath, no one realizes what has happened.
Then the swords slip from the hands of the fallen executioners.
And the field, once filled with cheers, begins to sink into an unnatural silence.
"What is that?!" "What happened?!" "Why has he not been beheaded?!"
The voices rise almost at once after the final count. The citizens, who had been shouting in fervor, now turn to one another in confusion. They do not see a blade descend. They do not see a severed head.
They see only two executioners lying upon the platform.
Silence blankets the vast field for a moment.
Then—
Five consecutive gunshots shatter the morning air.
Santiago stands among the crowd, his weapon still raised. Five soldiers who attempt to approach the execution stake fall nearly at once. The shots are no longer swallowed by cheers. This time, everyone hears them clearly.
Screams erupt.
"Attack!" "Run!" "Traitors!"
The infantry immediately moves into formation. The cavalry yanks harshly at their reins. The archers in elevated positions raise their bows, awaiting the command to rain arrows upon the field.
The citizens who had cheered moments before now shove one another, fleeing without direction. Some fall. Some stumble. The green field becomes a sea of panic.
Amid the chaos, Oliver remains bound atop the stake, his head now raised, his eyes searching for something within the scattering crowd.
On the elevated ground, Johan does not stand. He does not shout. He gives no command.
Instead, he laughs softly.
His smile widens, his eyes gleaming as he watches the lines begin to fracture and the citizens scatter.
"This is how it should be," he says calmly, almost with satisfaction. "It will be far more interesting to watch it unfold this way."
And the chaos truly begins.