"Dammit... Why? Why did it have to end like this...!"
In a far-flung corner of the battlefield, a lone figure attempted to flee, dragging a mangled body through the dirt.
It was Marquis Eiger, the man who had once vied for the title of the Kingdom’s strongest mage and the mastermind behind the Queen Dowager Faction.
The fierce combat had left the Marquis with horrific wounds. He didn't have a shred of mana left to spare for healing magic. It was all he could do to staunch the bleeding and limp forward, one agonizing step at a time.
"I did everything Her Majesty the Queen Dowager commanded... So why? Why did it fail? Why am I the one being defeated...!"
The hypnosis placed upon him by the Imperial Mage had already worn off. With his mind finally clear, he was consumed by a single, overwhelming question.
Losing was supposed to be an impossibility.
Everything the Queen Dowager said was right. He had lived his entire life according to her "correct" words—so why was he failing? Why was he so miserable?
"Ugh...!"
Why was he falling? Why was he crawling through the mud like a beaten dog?
The ones meant to end up like this were the fools who dared to disobey the Queen Dowager’s instructions. It wasn't supposed to be him.
"Why... How..."
"How pathetic. It’s a bit late to be whining like that, don’t you think?"
Marquis Eiger’s shoulders buckled. He spun toward the voice, only to find a boy standing there—a boy who hadn't lived even half as many years as the Marquis.
"If you're looking for a 'why,' the answer is simple. We were stronger, and you were weaker. Since when is a battle decided by anything else?"
"You... you are..."
"Wilhelm Lyubase. I’m a Baron, for whatever that's worth."
A Baron. A mere lower noble. Eiger had never even heard the name Lyubase. The boy was likely from some insignificant countryside house.
"...Honestly, I’m a little annoyed by how this turned out," Wilhelm muttered to himself, looking down at the broken Marquis. "That guy gets to fight the commander-in-chief, Rodel, while my opponent is a half-dead old man. First the plains, now here... I’m stuck in second place again."
Wilhelm turned his gaze toward the horizon—toward the Kingdom Army's main camp. Suddenly, a thunderous roar of cheers erupted from that direction.
Someone of great renown must have been struck down.
"Figures... He went and won. It's so predictable it’s actually boring."
Wilhelm pouted in dissatisfaction. Even with the de facto leader of the rebel army right in front of him, his attitude was utterly dismissive. He looked at the Marquis as if he were a dying insect beneath his notice.
"You...!"
His blood began to boil. To be mocked, to be belittled... and by a mere child! He was a Marquis! He had been hand-picked by the Queen Dowager to serve as her confidant and lead her faction!
(You arrogant brat... Did you think I was truly finished?!)
It was true that Eiger was on the verge of death. However, if he diverted the mana he was using to keep himself from bleeding out, he could squeeze out one last spell.
(I won't escape this alive anyway... If I must go, I’ll take this brat with me! I'll snuff out this 'prodigy's' future right here!)
The thought of being looked down upon by a child who had never even met the glorious Queen Dowager was unbearable. Marquis Eiger scraped together every last drop of mana remaining in his soul to activate the final magic of his life.
"Wind—"
The word died in his throat. In the next instant, Marquis Eiger felt himself soaring through the air.
(Huh...?)
He was flying like a bird. He looked down at the earth, the battlefield, and the arrogant young boy. Then... he looked down at his own body.
(My head... is gone...?)
The body he looked down upon was headless. The boy, who should have been sliced to ribbons by his final spell, was instead finishing a casual sword stroke. Just a heartbeat ago, he hadn't even had his hand on his hilt.
"Oh, I forgot to mention," Wilhelm said, his tone utterly indifferent. "Thanks for being my merit. I'm not on that guy's level yet, so I'll settle for second place today."
Eiger didn't understand what he meant. As the question flickered in his mind, his head crashed into the dirt.
His vision was swallowed by an absolute, suffocating black. The consciousness of the crafty elder who had once threatened the very foundation of the Kingdom vanished into a darkness from which it would never return.