Lord: I can see loyalty.

The Kingdom of Rovia, the capital of the North.

In the inner city, the city gates had fallen, but the war had ended, and many civilians were peeking out of their houses, cautiously observing the situation.

They may not yet realize that King Albert and his Knights of the Swordtail have been defeated.

But all they knew was that the war had finally ended.

Beneath the inner city gates, the dust of war slowly settled.

Broken door panels lay askew on either side, the stone walls were riddled with cracks and arrow holes, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and burning.

Swordtail Flower Grand Knight Norman West knelt amidst the rubble, his silver plate armor covered in sword marks and bloodstains. The longsword engraved with the swordtail flower lay planted in the ground beside him, its patterns now faded and dull.

He had his head down, his hair falling across his forehead, making his expression unreadable.

"Great Knight of the Swordtail Flower, Norman West." A voice came from above.

Norman did not look up.

But he recognized the voice—the great mage who had joined the Griffin family, and also the former court mage of the royal capital, whose name was Leonard Crove.

Just a few months ago, he was one of King Albert's most trusted advisors, spending his days and nights studying ancient texts in the Emerald Palace and offering advice to the king.

Now, dressed in the robes of the Golden-Maned Griffin family, he stands in the rebel camp, the tip of his staff gleaming with a ghostly blue light.

"Leonard," Norman finally spoke, his voice hoarse, "you betrayed the kingdom."

Leonard smiled, a slight smile carrying a hint of mockery, smugness, and an indescribable sense of emotion.

"Betrayal? Norman, you're a knight. You believe in loyalty, honor, and oaths, but can those things put food on the table?"

Norman fell silent.

"Those powerful families in the capital, the Golden Saddle Horse, the Black Serpent... aren't they all using the banner of 'loyalty' while actually waiting to see who wins?" Leonard's voice grew colder and colder. "I was just a step ahead of them, standing on the side of victory. That's not betrayal, that's wisdom."

Norman looked up at that familiar face.

Just a few months ago, they brushed past each other in the corridors of the Emerald Palace, exchanging nods. Now, the two stand on completely opposite sides.

"Wise?" Norman's lips curled into a bitter smile. "You call this wise?"

"Then tell me, what do you call this?" Leonard crouched down to look him in the eye. "Look around. Your knights have been wiped out, your king is trapped in the Emerald Palace, unable to escape, while I stand here, full of life."

"Who do you think will remember your 'loyalty'?"

Norman did not answer. He simply lowered his head and remained silent once more.

Leonard stood up and waved to the griffin rider beside him: "Take him away, lock him up, but don't kill him. He's still useful."

Two griffin riders stepped forward, one on each side, and lifted Norman up, dragging him away from the city gate.

Norman did not resist or even struggle; he simply let them drag him along, their footsteps scraping harshly on the gravel.

Not far away, Edmund Red, another great mage of the kingdom, was also slumped on the ground, his staff resting on his knees, the magic crystal on the staff head already dull and lifeless.

His face was as pale as paper, and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat. The weakness after his magic was exhausted left him without the strength to even stand up. Two griffin knights stood behind him, their longswords drawn, glaring menacingly.

Leonard walked up to him and looked down at his former colleague.

"Edmund, it's been a long time."

Edmund looked up, his cloudy old eyes showing no fear, only weariness and anger. "Leonard, you'll regret this."

"Regret?" Leonard laughed. "I never regret anything."

"You think Cedric will keep his promise? You think he'll really give you what you want?" Edmund's voice was soft, but every word was like a knife. "He even killed his own father. You're nothing but a puppet. He'll just keep you hanging on..."

Leonard's expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "That's my business, none of your concern."

He turned around and said to the magician behind him, "Take him away and lock him up with Norman, both of them. Don't let them die."

"Yes," the young black-robed mage bowed and replied, waving his hand to signal the griffin knight to drag Edmund away.

Edmund was lifted up and dragged outside. He turned back, watching Leonard's retreating figure, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

"Leonard, you'll see. When you're no longer of any use, Cedric will throw you away like a rag."

Leonard didn't turn around; he just stood there, motionless.

…………

Inner city, central avenue.

Selin Villar rode his black warhorse along the main road toward the Emerald Palace.

Behind him, two hundred elite griffin riders followed in formation, their hooves clattering on the stone pavement.

The doors and windows of the houses on both sides of the street were tightly closed. Occasionally, a bold person would peek out through the gap in the curtains, but then quickly retreat back inside.

Sand Knight Christ rode beside him, his gray eyes scanning the buildings on either side, his face expressionless.

"Norman and Edmund are both under control," the adjutant reported in a low voice as he rode closer.

Serin nodded without saying anything.

"Furthermore," the adjutant continued, "most of the nobles in the city have already fled, and those who remain have closed their doors to show their loyalty."

"Loyalty?" Selin's voice was soft, tinged with disdain. "They are only loyal to the victors, not to our Griffin family."

The adjutant dared not respond.

Serin raised his hand, signaling the team to stop.

He gazed at the majestic palace ahead—the Emerald Palace, the center of power in the kingdom, which now appeared particularly solemn in the twilight.

The palace gates were tightly shut, and a few guards could still be seen on the battlements, but their flags had been lowered, and it was unclear whether they had surrendered or fled.

"Mr. Sand Knight." Selin turned his head.

Christ rode forward. "What?"

"You lead your men to flank from the side, and I'll advance from the front. Don't destroy the palace; it'll be mine from now on... Of course, you, as my brother-in-law, will also have a share."

Christ simply nodded and led his personal guards around to the left.

Selin took a deep breath and drew the griffin sword from his waist.

The dark red patterns on the sword shimmered with an eerie light in the twilight, as if blood were flowing within them.

"go ahead."

The warhorse strode forward, its hooves thundering.

The knights followed closely behind, like a black torrent surging towards the Emerald Palace.

Inside the council hall of the Emerald Palace.

The hall was now empty, with only King Albert remaining.

He sat on the throne, his back ramrod straight, his hands resting flat on the armrests, his gaze calmly fixed on the gate.

His face was as pale as paper, his eyes were sunken, and his cheekbones were prominent, but his eyes were still bright, without a trace of fear.

Footsteps came from the end of the corridor, getting closer and clearer.

The doors to the lobby were pushed open.

Selin Villar strode in, followed by Sand Knight Christ and several trusted men. His armor was stained with blood, but his steps remained steady, and his gaze was sharp as a knife.

Albert looked at him without saying a word.

Serin stopped in front of him, looked at the young king, and the two stared at each other in silence for a long time.

"Your Majesty Albert," Celine said calmly, "it seems you have lost."

Albert didn't answer, he just looked at him.

"The capital is now under our control, your knights have been wiped out, and your nobles have either fled or surrendered. You have no chance of turning the tide."

Serin's voice was neither smug nor sarcastic; it was simply stating a fact.

Albert nodded. "I know."

"Then you—"

"I will not surrender," Albert interrupted him, his voice still calm. "I am the king, the king of Rovia, and a king does not surrender to traitors."

Serin was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Then I'll have to offend you."

He waved his hand, and his confidants stepped forward and lifted Albert from the throne. Albert did not resist, but simply let them drag him toward the door.

As he reached the door, King Albert suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked at the empty throne.

"Selin".

"What's wrong?"

“Tell Cedric,” Albert said softly, “that the throne is not something that can be secured by force. There will always be someone stronger than him, and he will eventually grow old and lose his beauty.”

Serin didn't speak, he just looked at him.

Albert was taken away, and the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only Celine and Christ in the hall.

Serin walked to the throne, reached out and stroked the exquisite carvings on the armrest.

Those are the marks left by kings of past dynasties; time has etched countless fine lines on them, as if telling the story of the rise and fall of this kingdom.

"Finally, it's all done," he said in a low voice.

Christ stood behind him without saying a word.

Selin turned and walked towards the door. "Let's go, there's still a lot to do."

…………

The Jade City, the capital, is a dungeon.

In the dark and damp dungeon, only the wall lamps flickered, casting a dim, yellowish glow.

Albert was imprisoned in the deepest cell, where the iron bars were rusty, the floor was covered with moldy straw, and the air was filled with a putrid smell.

He has long lost his kingly demeanor.

He sat in the corner, leaning against the cold stone wall, with his eyes closed, as if resting, or perhaps reminiscing.

In the next cell were Norman West and Edmund Reid.

The walls were made of a special material, engraved with countless magical runes, designed to suppress the two powerful figures. Inside, the great mage's power was completely suppressed, and the great knight's aura was negligible.

Norman leaned against the wall, his wounds had been simply bandaged, but bloodstains still seeped through the bandages.

Edmund slumped onto the straw, his face pale. His staff had been taken away, and he looked as if his soul had been ripped out.

The three were not far apart, but neither of them spoke; the dungeon was deathly silent. Only the flickering light of the wall lamp cast their long, long shadows on the wall.

…………

The Kingdom of Rovia, Southern Border, Earl's Castle of Portol.

Dusk pressed heavily on the horizon, turning the city, which had only emerged a year ago, into a dark red.

The castle's spires cast long, narrow shadows in the setting sun, like fingers pointing north.

Vio stood by the window of the study, gazing at the gradually darkening horizon in the distance, the letter in his hand already crumpled in his hand.

Daphne Villar has arrived in the Southern Territory. The young lady of the Golden Griffin family, with her unassuming but loyal group of people, has quietly crossed the Blackwood and settled in the city of Portor.

Her arrival caused no ripples, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, the waves disappearing before they even formed. But Vio knew that this pebble would eventually stir up a monstrous wave.

"Her people are all in place." Alec stood behind him, his voice as calm as ever.

Vio nodded without saying anything.

Daphne's arrival signifies a lack of unity within the Golden Griffin family, and she chooses to side with the Southern Reach.

The door was pushed open, and Cohen strode in.

His gentleman's coat was covered in the dust of his journey, his bow tie was crooked, and he looked tired, but his eyes were still sharp. Vance followed behind him, carrying a thick stack of parchment that almost covered half of his face.

"Your Excellency," Cohen bowed slightly, his voice hoarse, "the news from the North has all been brought back."

Vio turned around and sat down at the long table.

Cohen and Vance spread out the parchments, with a detailed map of the North on top, densely marked with the territories and troop deployments of the various families.

"The Golden Saddle Horse family has publicly pledged allegiance to Cedric." Cohen's finger moved across the map. "And the Black Serpent family, as well as the Grey Wolf family, the Silver Fox family, the Iron Hammer family... all the prominent families in the North have sided with the Golden Griffin."

Vio's brow furrowed slightly. "All of them?"

“All of them.” Cohen raised his head, his gaze grave. “Not a single family sent troops to defend the king, not a single family openly opposed him, not even a feigned condemnation. Cedric murdered his father and seized power, and they pretended not to see it. The king was trapped in the capital, and they pretended not to know.”

Vance handed over a list containing the names of more than a dozen families, each marked with the word "Allegiance".

Vio glanced at the list and put it down.

"They're not loyal to Cedric." His voice was calm, but tinged with coldness. "They're loyal to the victors; whoever wins, they're on their side."

“Exactly.” Cohen nodded. “Cedric has won, the outcome is decided. To stand up against him now is tantamount to suicide. These families have been waiting for this moment for so long.”

Vio remained silent for a moment.

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the city shrouded in twilight.

The streets of Portol gradually came on with lights, vendors were still busy, and children were playing at the alley entrances. Everything looked so peaceful, as if the war had never happened.

"They didn't just side with Cedric now," he said softly. "They've been waiting from the beginning. If they really opposed the Golden Mane Griffin's actions, they would have sent troops long ago. Silence is the greatest form of leniency."

"So what do we do now?" Jimmy stood in the doorway, his face full of seriousness.

Vio turned around and his gaze swept over everyone in the room: Cohen, Vance, Jimmy, Gina. Their faces showed fatigue and worry, but no fear. He suddenly smiled.

"What should we do?" He walked back to the table, pointing towards the north. "They think that taking the capital is the end of it, but for us, the real battle has just begun."

His gaze fell on the window, as if it had passed over the lights of Portol, over the waves of the Sea of ​​Ga, over the mountains of the North, and landed on the capital city occupied by the rebels.

"The great families of the North have all sided with Cedric, and next, his blade will definitely be pointed at the South and the West."

"But we have the Southern and Western borders, the Azure Peak Knights, the Giant Whale Knights, four great knights, and the most elite warriors in this land." His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. "If he wants to come, let him come, provided he has a reason to attack us."

He paused, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"But in any case, this battle is unavoidable."

Outside the window, the last rays of the setting sun sank into the sea, night fell, and the stars began to appear.

The flames of war have been lit in the North, and the banners of the South flutter in the night wind.

A storm is coming, but the South is never afraid of storms.