Meanwhile, at the rebel army’s main camp...
Inside the camp stood Prince Rodel Aiwood, the third prince and figurehead of the rebellion, alongside Marquis Eiger, the man who served as its actual commander.
Within the command tent, they were holding their final military council before the impending clash.
“Now then... Prince Rodel. At long last, the time for you to ascend as King has arrived!”
Marquis Eiger spoke with impassioned fervor before Rodel, who sat slumped in a chair.
“The era of that foolish King—who possesses not a shred of talent despite carrying the blood of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager—and the era of the False Crown Prince are finally at an end! We shall crush the enemy here and march straight to the Royal Capital!”
“...I suppose so,” Rodel replied, his gaze dark and hollow as he looked at the Marquis, whose intensity verged on madness.
(If we win this battle, I will become the Crown Prince. I will be the King of the Aiwood Kingdom... just as Grandmother wished...)
His desire was on the verge of being granted. His great ambition was finally coming to fruition.
And yet, his spirits remained strangely low. Ever since he had survived that place—the Subnock Plain—he had felt this way.
(Goura... Tony...)
The faces of his two childhood companions and aides flickered across his mind.
Goura had been an earnest, simple soul. Honest to a fault, he had loathed strategy and tried to solve every problem with raw strength.
Tony had been a bit of a small fry. Despite his cowardice, he only acted the part of the bully when Rodel and Goura were by his side. He was a glib sycophant, yet somehow impossible to truly hate.
Since they had died, Rodel felt as though a heavy stone had been lodged in the pit of his stomach.
(Was I not the chosen one? I am the grandson of the great Queen Dowager, a genius who received an elite education from her to become the next King. I was meant to be a mage stronger than any other, a man destined for greatness—someone who would unify the Aiwood Kingdom... no, the entire continent...)
Once, Rodel had been overflowing with confidence in every action. He had felt as if he had wings on his back, capable of flying anywhere. That sense of omnipotence had always filled his chest.
But now, having lost the friends who served as his closest aides, he had been stripped of that certainty.
Rodel had likely only been able to remain an arrogant egoist because he had never known failure. He had been adored and pampered by the powerful Queen Dowager, and after her death, he had been shielded by supporters like Marquis Eiger. Everyone around him was a yes-man; no one had ever dared to admonish him.
The fact that he possessed a decent amount of magical talent had only made things worse. Because the King and the Crown Prince did not have particularly large mana reserves, he had dismissed any rebukes from them as the "envy of the weak."
However, in the midst of all that, he had experienced a definitive defeat on the Subnock Plain. Because of his reckless charge, he had lost the aides he trusted.
Without the two sycophants who had affirmed his every move, Rodel found himself regretting his actions for the first time in his life.
(They say many students lost their lives on the plain to the swarming monsters... all because of me. Because I woke Subnock...!)
Until then, Rodel had never been the type to consider those around him. If he had emerged victorious over the magical beast Subnock, he might have been able to laugh off the casualties as "necessary sacrifices."
But he had been defeated. He had achieved nothing and produced only victims. For the first time, a sense of guilt had taken root in his soul.
“...The enemy has a hundred thousand. They outnumber us. Can we really win?”
That he could even utter such a timid remark was proof that his confidence had been shattered.
“Do not trouble yourself. It is true we are outnumbered, but the quality of the soldiers is what determines a war. No matter how many of the common rabble gather, they are of no account.”
“...I see.”
“Besides... we have a most reassuring ally!”
Marquis Eiger turned his gaze toward a figure standing in the corner of the camp.
“…………”
The individual, who gave Rodel a silent nod, was shrouded in a deep black hood that completely obscured their face. They sat cross-legged on a cloth spread over the ground, remaining silent and refusing to join the council.
“That gentleman has come as a reinforcement from the Empire, the home country of the Concubine, your mother. Behind Prince Rodel stands not only the glory of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager, but the Geisel Empire itself. There is no way we can lose!”
“…………”
Marquis Eiger declared this with an eerie glint in his eyes. Rodel, who would have once found those words encouraging, now found them strangely terrifying.
(This man isn’t looking at me. His eyes are directed my way, but they only see Grandmother...)
He finally realized that Marquis Eiger did not serve him; his loyalty was solely to the memory of the Queen Dowager.
And it wasn't just Marquis Eiger. Everyone inside this tent—every noble of the Queen Dowager Faction—was the same. They were intoxicated by a dead woman, looking at neither Rodel nor reality.
“Marquis, the soldiers are ready.”
“Excellent. Then... we charge at once!”
Without waiting for Rodel’s instructions, Marquis Eiger ordered the men to advance.
A trumpet blared, its sound echoing across the basin to announce the start of the deployment. When the signal sounded a second time, every soldier would charge toward the enemy.
“Now, let us go! Everything is for the sake of the great Queen Dowager. To build a Royal Paradise in this world, we shall march to the Royal Capital and—”
Marquis Eiger was in the middle of his speech when he suddenly trailed off.
Abruptly, the world went dark.
The sun was obscured as a dim twilight fell over them, looking for all the world like a total solar eclipse.
“…………?”
“Hey, what is this?”
“I-I don’t know... it’s suddenly turned pitch black...”
The momentum of the charge was met with a freezing check. Confusion spread through the ranks both inside and outside the tent, and the order to charge was momentarily forgotten.
“This is bad...!”
Amidst the chaos, the black-robed figure suddenly stood up.
He moved toward the tent flap with an air of desperation, but the moment he pulled it back to step outside, a blinding, incandescent light surged in from the horizon.
“Ah...”
There wasn't even time to scream.
The magical light unleashed by the Kingdom Army swallowed the soldiers standing before the main camp—and Prince Rodel along with them.