Rustle—
In an old castle in northern Wales, Conwy.
An old man standing on the terrace turned his head.
"Lady Sophia?"
"We've just received word that she has arrived at Rose Station."
"Is she hurt? She's unharmed, right?"
"Yes. She's safe. There seems to have been a collision on the train, but Charles and Olivia handled it well."
"Good. Thank goodness."
The old man let out a sigh of relief and gripped the railing.
You should have at least given me a hint, Your Majesty.
Everything had happened without warning.
Elysia Jeri Windsor.
The current 42nd monarch of Britain had dropped a bombshell announcement without the slightest forewarning.
She declared that she would abolish the existing system of hereditary succession and personally designate the next monarch.
At first, people were shocked, but few grasped the gravity of it.
Then, from her lips came a name no one had ever anticipated, and the British royal family and political and financial circles were thrown into absolute chaos.
—I hereby declare that my granddaughter, Sophia Marcia Windsor, shall inherit the throne.
Until then, people had spoken with one voice.
No, they had been certain.
That the next monarch would be Widrick, who had lost his parents in an unexpected accident and become the first in line to the throne.
And so vast sums of money had flowed toward Widrick, all in an effort to curry favor with the future king.
For quite a long time, and in no small amount.
Naturally, the royal family and the political establishment rebelled.
They argued that changing the hereditary system so abruptly, or allowing someone whose very existence had been unknown to inherit the throne, was impossible.
But Elysia produced an ancient tome long preserved by the royal house and spoke.
If the first-in-line successor had a serious problem, the king—or queen—had the authority to change the order of succession at their discretion.
And if Widrick refused to accept her decision, she would reveal what that problem was.
From that moment on, a bloody storm swept through the royal family.
First, Queen Elysia collapsed and fell into a coma.
Next, the king's closest aides died one after another in sudden "accidents."
Then Sophia, on her way to London for the succession process, was caught in an unidentified terrorist attack.
Thanks to Charles's protection, she was not injured, but it was deemed far too dangerous to continue on to London.
That was why she had been summoned to the safety of Wales.
Crunch!
The hand gripping the railing tightened.
Widrick Palam Windsor.
He had always known the man was unsettling.
But he had never imagined it would be to this extent.
Elysia probably hadn't known either.
That her own grandson was a madman who would gladly burn all of Britain to the ground if it meant taking the throne.
"Any additional news?"
"As I reported earlier, Lady Sophia, Charles, and Olivia disembarked safely at Rose Station. By now, they should have joined up with the knight order. We'll be hearing from them soon."
The man delivering the report smiled.
"Sir Philip, there's no need to worry so much. The ones who went to meet her were the Golden Lion Knight Order, protectors of Wales. All of them have trained as knights since childhood, and after awakening, they climbed the Tower rapidly—every last one of them has passed the 60th floor. Sir Edward, who leads them, is a player in the 70th floors."
"Yes. That's right. I suppose I've been worrying too much."
Philip ran a hand through his hair.
He, too, had seen Edward many times.
The unshakable great oak of Wales.
If he had met Sophia, then there was nothing left to fear.
He lowered himself into a chair.
Looking out over the sprawling garden, he prayed earnestly.
That Sophia would arrive here safely.
And at that very moment, at Rose Station.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Beneath the platform, hidden from all eyes.
Thick streams of blood flowed downward.
Tracing the blood upward revealed more than a dozen corpses.
The bodies lay discarded haphazardly, each with a necklace around its neck.
A lion-shaped pendant that must once have gleamed gold, now dulled and obscured by blood.
"We've been expecting you, Princess Sophia."
A short-haired man offered a respectful bow.
"I'm truly relieved that you're unharmed. I am Edward of the Golden Lion Knight Order."
At his greeting, the roughly twenty people lined up behind him also bowed their heads.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Edward. I am Sophia Marcia Windsor. Thank you for coming all this way to meet us."
"Not at all. Protecting the royal family is the natural duty of the knight order. We will escort you safely to Conwy Castle, where Sir Philip awaits."
At Edward's nod, the waiting personnel closed in around Sophia.
"Sir Charles, Sir Olivia. You've both worked hard. Let's proceed to the parking area."
With Edward at the lead, the group began to move.
Leaving the bustling station behind, they walked for quite some time until they reached a deserted parking lot.
A shadowed place where not a single ray of sunlight reached.
"To be safe, we prepared the vehicles in a location that won't draw attention."
"I see."
Sophia replied lightly, glancing around.
Aside from those currently moving with her, there was no one else in sight.
"So, who exactly are you?"
Edward stopped and turned back toward her.
"Who…? I'm not sure what you mean, Your Highness."
Sophia smiled faintly, meaningfully.
"You're not Sir Edward."
The others froze mid-step.
A heavy silence settled over them.
The man who had introduced himself as Edward curled his lips upward.
"How did you know? I thought I copied him pretty well."
His face began to melt and run like paint.
A younger-looking man emerged and turned to his subordinate.
"Hey, you sure you used your awakening ability properly? We got found out."
"Yes. I perfectly reproduced his appearance."
"You said it was identical. So how did the princess know?"
"To begin with, Sir Edward and I are not strangers. He wouldn't have accepted my greeting as if it were our first meeting."
"Heh."
The man let out a hollow laugh.
Not only bold, but sharp as well.
No wonder she carried royal blood.
"I underestimated you because you're young. My mistake. Normally I dig up all the prior info and personality details, but there was almost nothing on you."
Naturally so.
Sophia was a granddaughter Elysia had deliberately kept hidden.
"But aren't you an idiot? If you realized earlier, you should've run or screamed. What do you think you can do now? This is a deserted place no one ever comes to… huh."
Something seemed to dawn on him, and his expression shifted to one of surprise.
"Don't tell me you did this on purpose, so the people at the station wouldn't get dragged into it?"
"I figured you'd be the type to ignore public attention if it served your goal."
"Pfft… Puhahahaha!!"
The man burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.
After laughing for a while, he shook his head and spoke again.
"A princess who looks after her people even with her life on the line. Yeah, you're definitely king material. A lot more than that lunatic who killed the parents and siblings who gave birth to him just to raise his succession rank."
"…?!"
"Oh, you didn't know? We're the ones who made that 'first in line.' Of course, the reason I'm telling you this is… the dead tell no tales, right?"
Olivia, who had been listening, frowned deeply.
"You support Widrick even knowing he'd be the worst king in history? You're British too, aren't you?"
"Save that line for someone with their head screwed on straight."
The man tapped his own temple.
"For a lunatic like me, peace is poison. I'd go crazy from boredom or starve to death before long. Anyway, enough small talk."
He straightened and bowed once more.
"My name is Joypin Orga. A knight who loves chaos and madness."
A sharp épée appeared in Joypin's right hand.
"What I like most is piercing things. I poked plenty of holes in that golden-whatever guy you met earlier too."
As he finished speaking, he thrust the épée forward.
Straight toward Sophia's forehead.
Fsss—
Joypin's eyes widened as the figure dispersed into smoke.
In the next instant, Charles and Olivia also dissolved into smoke.
"They went the other way!"
Three figures came into view, running some distance away.
"Hah."
Joypin let out a dry laugh.
He had surrounded them completely, yet they slipped out of the encirclement without a trace.
"After awakening, things really do get interesting. Hey, move aside."
As his subordinates stepped back, Joypin assumed a stance.
The moment his épée aimed at the three—
Boom!
With an explosive sound, Joypin's body shot forward.
Kagagagak!!
"Oh?"
Joypin smiled as he closed the distance in an instant.
Blocking his épée was a massive silver shield.
"So you're Charles-something. The one who protected the princess during that explosion earlier."
Charles frowned.
That's no ordinary weapon.
That slender épée was colliding with his shield at this speed.
Normally, the blade should have shattered on impact—yet Joypin's weapon showed not even the slightest crack.
"This is a unique weapon from the 60th floors. Worth over a hundred billion. Hey! You guys go after the princess."
Joypin's subordinates slipped past Charles before he even realized it.
But Charles couldn't stop them.
Years of combat experience and instinct told him the truth.
The moment he took his eyes off this man, his body would be pierced—
Thud!
"!!!"
A sharp pain burrowed into a gap in his armor.
He swung his shield wide and leapt backward.
Charles's eyes widened.
Two of them…?
It was faint, but there was another image of Joypin.
The one that had stabbed his back was that second figure's épée.
"I told you. It's an expensive weapon. The longer the fight drags on, the tougher it gets. That Edward-or-whatever guy couldn't last past the tenth or so and died."
Joypin smiled leisurely and raised his stance again.
"Now then, let's see. How many rounds can you last?"
Gritting his teeth, Charles let out a low, steady breath.
Please, Olivia.
He prayed with all his heart.
That Sophia, the rightful heir, would survive—and that the sun would not set on Britain.
Whiiizz—!
Bullets tore through Sophia and Olivia.
Just like before, their figures dispersed into smoke.
The two reappeared from another direction and slipped into an abandoned building.
"Huff… huff."
"Olivia…"
Sophia swallowed the question she was about to ask.
One look was enough to tell—Olivia was already at her limit.
Each attack had been deflected using her awakening ability.
"I've got them, you rats."
An axe burst out from the wall, swinging down.
Once again, they turned to smoke and reappeared elsewhere.
Splatter!
Blood burst from Olivia's nose and mouth.
She could no longer use her ability.
"P-Princess… run… please. I'll…"
"You've done more than enough, Olivia."
Sophia stepped in front of her.
This was it.
There was nowhere left to run.
More than a dozen enemies slowly closed the distance.
"Please… run…"
Sophia wrapped her arms around Olivia's head.
"I'm sorry. This is because of me."
She had no power.
And yet, absurdly, she wanted Olivia and Charles to live.
She didn't want precious lives to be lost because of her.
I'm so powerless.
Regret came flooding in too late.
She should have done something.
Regardless of who forbade it, she should have climbed the Tower.
She had said she hated living like a marionette, but now she wondered if she had simply been complacent in that very life.
"Then, farewell."
An approaching enemy raised his axe.
Sophia didn't avert her eyes.
She stared straight at the descending blade.
And in that moment—
Clatter—!!
A strange sound of friction rang out.
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T/N:
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