[The vile invaders of the Empire keep marching unabated toward our royal capital! The foolish traitors have betrayed their families, relatives, friends, and comrades, bowing before the enemy!]
[The enemy will slaughter your husbands and sons, and defile your wives and daughters! Without resistance, you’ll be plundered. Without a fight, you’ll lose everything!]
[The royal capital shall never fall! It shall not be handed over to the enemy! All who wish to join this great resistance, hesitate no longer—march to the capital now!]
Once again, Gruber’s voice, amplified by magic, booms across the Dedolant capital with ear-piercing authority.
The ones who howl “ueeerrr!” in response are Dedolant’s elite soldiers, and among them are the Imperial Guards of the late Cassius II.
“For the glory of the great Deo Ethnic Group! We shall fight until our dying breath!”
“Traitors are of no use to us! Neither are those who lack the will to fight! All such cowards, get out! And take everything but your lives with you when you leave!”
These men firmly believe that the Empire assassinated Cassius II. Whether true or not, the truth is they failed in their duty as guards to protect their charge. To avoid accountability, they now shout louder than ever, cursing the Empire with every breath as they proclaim their determination to fight until d*ath for victory.
With the Imperial Guards leading the charge, the rest of Dedolant’s army feels compelled to show their loyalty to their homeland. Who wants to be branded a traitor among such nationalistic cries, especially after years of fighting against the Empire? Surrender is simply unthinkable.
As the core military of Dedolant follows this path, the entire capital is swept up in the fevered atmosphere. The Empire continues its advance, and every town it touches is looted, burned, and left in ruin—violence and bloodshed painting stark patterns across the snowy landscape like fresh footprints.
Hearing such stories, the conscripts and other citizens of the kingdom don’t hide their rising hatred for the Empire.
“We won’t hand over the glory of the Deo people for a moment’s gain like traitors do!”
“Fight we shall, and fight again! In the end, they shall drown in their own bl**d! No rest until victory or d*ath!”
The brilliant Dedolant capital of old no longer exists. All that remains now is a chaotic maelstrom of madness and fury.
However, amidst this chaos, a small number of people still cling to their sanity—soldiers who’ve fought for years, young conscripts who were dragged into this mess, merchants unable to abandon the capital. Many more tremble as they sense the ominous tension sweeping through the city.
“Is this really the right thing to do? Every surrounding region has already fallen to the Empire. Defending this single place isn’t going to change anything, is it?”
“The Empire needs to conquer our royal palace to declare their so-called victory. If only we stop them there, it’s still a fight worth having.”
“What nonsense is that?! You seriously believe that plan’s going to work?”
Benito has already fallen, and Artria is gone from the map. If holding the capital alone were enough, why are we in such dire straits now? And we’ve had no crops this year—what little food we have left has been scavenged or stolen.
How did Dedolant come to this? Or perhaps, does Dedolant even still exist?
Is it just madness now, burning everything it touches?
[Ah… Ahhh…]
One day, forces that seemed to be the Empire’s vanguard arrived near the royal capital. Instead of initiating an attack or reconnaissance, they set up something that soon broadcast a voice.
[This is Kael Klauwitz, Chief of Staff of the Empire, humbly serving His Majesty, the great and legitimate ruler of these lands.]
Kael Klauwitz. First known as a prodigious strategist, he’s now reviled in Dedolant as the “Devil’s Puppeteer.” How much ruin and defeat has Dedolant suffered at his hands? When his voice rang out via magical amplification, cries of fury erupted from the city walls immediately.
“Yapping Empire dogs! Devil’s Puppeteer! Drop dead and rot in hell!”
“Magicians! Bring that b*stard down with a spell right now! Fire away!”
“Archers! Launch arrows at them! Turn them into pincushions!”
Though the voices of anger were loud, the enemies were too far away for arrows to reach them. Magic resources were nearly depleted, and even if they weren’t, defenses would surely stop any attack. As Dedolant’s command continued their useless ranting, Kael’s speech carried on.
[The Empire sought peace with Dedolant. But when you used surrounding nations to infringe on our rights, it was tantamount to a declaration of war. It is the war you started, and now it will consume all those who are guilty.]
[Your magnificent royal capital shall be the target of the Empire’s judgment.]
Kael’s voice resonated with unhidden, raw anger. The mad ones shouted back, wondering where he got his audacity, but the clearer-headed ones felt an indescribable sense of unease and dread.
[However, His Majesty the Emperor has decided to extend His final mercy.]
[To the people of Dedolant: If you wish to preserve your or your family’s lives, listen carefully.]
[Before the month ends, a great event will occur. The Empire’s judgment is blind—it may affect anyone. Flee the capital now. Or, if you cannot, escape to the outskirts.]
Flee the capital? Where to? The Empire has already taken over everything else.
[The enemy of the Empire is not you. It’s the insane leaders who dragged this land into endless war. We are here to liberate you from their tyranny.]
[This is your final warning. If you wish to survive, leave the capital.]
The next day, Dedolant’s commanders could barely contain their anger.
“They’re trying to spread their poison even to our capital!”
“They’re tempting us with betrayal. The moment the gates open, hidden enemy soldiers will ambush us!”
“All gates must be sealed immediately. We must root out and execute anyone showing signs of betrayal! Otherwise, we’ll face the same fate as those in the nearby fortresses!”
There was no room for moderation here anymore. All those who valued peace have either surrendered or succumbed to despair. No one cared about soothing the hearts of the people anymore.
“Find and eliminate all those who seem even remotely suspicious.”
Gruber gave the order, and the guards immediately began their purge. No great psychological warfare or prediction was involved—anyone who seemed “off” was arrested, anyone who questioned the “glory of the Deo people” was treated as a traitor.
“AAAHHH! Please spare us! Why are you doing this?”
“Let us leave the capital! Please! We have families to care for!”
“All traitors! Dispose of them! Clear them all out from this sacred place!”
Some were lucky enough to escape the capital. Others suffered a tragic fate. Others still pretended nothing was wrong and went about their normal lives. And then there were those who feared the Empire’s warning but couldn’t bring themselves to leave and so hid away somewhere.
As the chaos reached a fever pitch, the Dedolant command made their final decision.
“To show that the Devil’s Puppeteer’s words mean nothing!”
“Judgment by the Empire? HA! They’ll just smash and brawl like the barbarians they are! But Dedolant shall stand firm and protect this sacred land!”
“Don’t fear! We have countermeasures planned against siege weapons and magical attacks! With unyielding faith, our ultimate victory is assured!”
The commanders gathered in the royal palace, praying for triumph to the departed King Cassius II. They sought courage from the honorable Deo warriors who fell with glory defending this land.
But prayers weren’t limited to the royal palace…
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit… Pat—man.”
With the Chief of Staff’s peculiar words, the Empire’s wrath was fully prepared.
Today of all days, the weather was exceptionally clear. Not a single cloud in sight.
The Dedolant command hailed it as a sign of goodwill from the late king, a holy blessing from the souls of those who had passed gloriously.
The monstrosities that have brought down all of Dedolant’s defenses are coming again. This time, however, it won’t be easy. Battle will be brutal. Even victory will feel bittersweet. Defeat will be worse than d*ath.
“Magic detection! Magic detection!!”
Suddenly, Dedolant’s mages raised the alarm, ready for the Empire’s magical onslaught.
Perhaps the enemy would begin with magic instead of siege weapons?
The command immediately ordered the deployment of defensive spells, ready for the incoming attack—but the next cries shattered their assumptions.
“The enemy’s magic cannot be countered! We have no idea what kind of magic this is!”
“Quick, another probe… Ugh! Cough!”
“It’s a magical backdraft! Stop all magical scanning immediately!”
“It’s an entirely new form of magic! Be warned—it’s completely unlike anything we’ve seen before!”
The mages screamed in terror—a sight the Dedolant command had never seen before. Even Gruber, witnessing this, wondered uneasily what it all meant.
But before he could ask, a massive magical matrix appeared hovering above the Dedolant palace.
The golden lines materialized in mid-air, moving toward the center, unbothered by any attempts to sabotage or disrupt them. Slowly but surely, they converged into one singular point.
―PIING!
And the moment the lines converged into one, plunging towards the palace…
― …!!!
In the beginning, there was light. Its brilliance engulfed everything.
And Dedolant’s royal capital… disappeared in a flash.
