"Screaaam!"
The maidservant shrieked.
She had opened the door to wake her master. A young boy lay sleeping on a snow-white bed. Except it was an eternal sleep. The eleven-year-old had been beheaded. Dark red blood was pressed into the bedsheets. A few lily petals had been scattered across the soiled bed, as though mocking something.
The last remaining imperial heir — assassinated.
The news reached certain Frankish nobles immediately. They were struck with shock.
"……Goddesses above. Why must you pile tragedy upon tragedy?"
"We went to such lengths to secure a manor beyond the watch of Bretagne."
They had been on the verge of the great deed. How many arguments and compromises had taken place beneath the surface so that the Royalists and Republicans could cooperate?
"He was born a commoner and raised a commoner. Without an informant, the Bretagnons would never have known……."
"Confine every servant who worked at that manor!"
Whether Royalist or Republican, each faction contained sub-factions within. Dozens of beliefs ran along parallel lines. Constitutional monarchy had been a compromise achieved through what was nearly a miracle. Now, with everything collapsing in an instant, the nobles were so hollowed out they could barely bring themselves to speak.
"What matters now is not who committed this atrocity. What we must discuss first is what to do from here on out."
"What do you mean, 'from here on out'? What is there left to do? Every imperial heir of the Franks is dead. The great empire is finished. It's all over……."
"Even so, the Franks must continue to exist. Even if there is no longer an emperor."
"I don't understand what you're saying. Are you suggesting we turn the empire into a republic?"
"If that is the only answer."
Arguments erupted among the nobles everywhere.
At first they had gathered only in the smallest of circles to exchange views, hoping to avoid drawing attention. But they soon realized that debating in such small groups would yield no conclusions. What stance should our faction take? How would the opposing faction respond…….
As the political situation descended into a tangle of uncertainty, the nobles cried out in frustration.
"Is the operation proceeding as promised, or has it been cancelled? At the very least, let's confirm that much!"
"The plan has gone awry, so our only option is to uphold His Majesty Henri……."
"You want us to serve that emperor again—the one who dragged the kingdom into this mess? Ha. And you think the common folk will support us if we do? I'd sooner start a revolution than do that. Absolutely out of the question."
An urgent countermeasure had to be devised as soon as possible.
The nobles agreed to hold a clandestine gathering. The venue was a remote estate on the outskirts of the imperial capital, Parisium. To prepare for any contingency, they assembled only after the Bretagne forces had sortied from the city and moved out.
Some nobles chose not to attend. They were cautious. Even if—or rather, precisely because—the political situation was uncertain, they argued, one had to prioritize safety above all else.
"We still haven't even determined why the imperial heir was assassinated. There may well be a traitor among us, and yet you'd have us recklessly gather in one place?"
"Do you honestly think Henrietta that harlot would let such an opportunity slip? Unbelievable. The lot of you have gone mad, itching to throw your lives away."
Should one cling to safety even when disaster was already knocking at the door?
"Are you suggesting we simply sit and wait for the war to end without lifting a finger? Is that what you call safety? That isn't safety—it's nothing but negligence toward the kingdom and its people, a dereliction of duty."
"Bretagne stands on the brink of collapse! When will we ever get another chance like this?"
Or should one take a step forward and meet the danger head-on?
The Franck nobles chose the latter course, for the most part. They had been silent for four long years. What had they endured and submitted for, if not for precisely this moment? Roughly two-thirds of the families that had pledged themselves to the Patriotic Front attended the secret assembly.
But that day, history proved that bold action was not always the right answer.
"Ambush!"
They had been locked in fierce debate deep into the night when the guards screamed the warning.
"……They've got us."
"Damn that whoring bitch."
Each noble drew the sword at his hip.
None shouted foolish questions about what was happening. Royalists or republicans, every one of them had survived thus far by evading Bretagne's surveillance. They could tell immediately what had transpired.
They had apparently forgotten all about spitting at each other over ideology just moments ago, forming a seamless defensive formation centered on the mansion's front gate. These were nobles who had undergone knightly training since childhood. Even if they couldn't emit Aura, they all knew how to fight.
The soldiers who had been patrolling near the mansion were dealt with in an instant. Before long, the knights of Bretagne slowly approached through the main gate. Clank, clank — their footsteps rang out with unusual weight.
"My, my. What brings all you noble personages together at this late hour?"
A female knight spoke in a mocking tone. She wore a silver breastplate and fluttered a dark green cloak. Seeing the female knight, the Frank nobles clicked their tongues.
"Tch. That's Millionne de Nazelle, isn't it..."
"What a lavish uninvited guest graces us with her presence."
The Green Rose Knights — passed down since the founding of Bretagne. They had once annihilated the Demon Lord's army with a single cavalry charge. Their vice-commander herself had come in person. Though the nobles had brought reliable guards, there was no way they could defeat the continent's strongest knight order.
The female knight smiled, baring her teeth.
"I'd expect nothing less from those of you who are always rumored to be such patriots. But to see even those known for betraying their homeland all gathered here in droves — well, well. It's quite beyond me to figure out what brought you all together. I'm sure the conversation must have been riveting."
"......"
"Her Majesty the Queen has also taken great interest in tonight's little gathering. Why don't we continue this discussion before Her Majesty herself?"
They had been pretending to sortie — when in fact they had been waiting for us to gather.
The nobles laughed hollowly. Among them were those who had acted like traitors, currying favor with Queen Henrietta. They had swallowed their pride and come this far, only for everything to come to nothing.
—Shhhing.
The nobles pointed their swords forward. There was no point in making further excuses. Queen Henrietta would never spare them. After torture and humiliation, all that awaited them was a filthy death.
They steeled their resolve. They were worried about their families' safety, but they were the proud nobles of Frank, after all. They had long since prepared to face the end.
"......What if we refuse to be called before your queen?"
"There is one thing in this world that no human being can refuse."
The knights, too, drew their swords in unison.
"You shall all die here."
The battle had begun.
The nobles of Frank fought with courage. From the young girl who had just become head of her house, to the seventy-year-old elder who had lost every last heir, every one who still had the strength to grip a hilt threw themselves into the fray without reservation.
The single cry that tore from their throats was one.
"For Frank!"
Republicans threw themselves upon swords meant for royalists. Royalists leaped into danger to save the lives of republicans. Even those who had long been ideological enemies, who had treated each other as foes, became mere comrades in this final hour.
"Her Majesty the Queen!"
As if mocking their sacrifice, blades pierced noble chests. A spear drove into a belly, and a young nobleman's intestines spilled in a visceral rush onto the floor. The boy collapsed, frantically trying to scoop his own innards back in with both hands, but did not last long. Screams and moans twisted into a gruesome chorus, drenching the mansion in vivid red.
A middle-aged man hastily threw up both hands. He was the traitor who had reported this assembly to Bretagne.
"Wait! Sir de Nazaire! It's me! Don't kill me!"
The deputy commander approached him and laughed heartily.
"So you were here. Her Majesty the Queen will be most pleased with tonight's proceedings."
"Th-thank you. It is all thanks to Her Majesty's boundless grace."
The few remaining nobles and their guards, their faces streaked with blood, were incensed.
"Was it your spawn, Vépin?"
"May a curse cling to your filthy bloodline for eternity!"
Those who had once been comrades hurled their fury in the form of curses. The man flinched for a moment, but soon scowled in distaste.
"And what of you lot? How clean is your precious bloodline that you can sing of Frank every single day? What matters to the people is not nationality. It is of no consequence who the Emperor is. As long as the land is governed well, I care not if the Emperor is from Frank, from Bretagne, or even if he is a Demon Lord!"
"Shut your mouth, you worthless scum!"
A young female head of house screamed.
"It was not Bretagne that raised you, but Frank! The people of Frank paid you their taxes, the parents of Frank raised you, the mountains and rivers and trees and grass of Frank protected you! Where do you get off discussing the people, you pig who doesn't even recognize his own parents!"
"Not even worth discussing... History changes! And it changes for the people!"
That was when it happened.
The neck of the man whose veins stood out bulging split apart with a sickening crack. His eyes went wide as he crumpled to the floor. His severed head rolled to a stop right at the feet of the nobles.
"Wh—what...?"
"..."
The nobles, forgetting even their rage, were left speechless.
Standing before them, the female deputy commander was smiling. Her blade was drenched in blood. She had executed the man herself — a traitor to Frank and an ally of Bretagne.
"This is exactly why people like you Frank folk will never get anywhere. It doesn't matter how righteous your words are — they must be backed by force."
"...Why did you kill him? He was a traitor."
"I'm not sure I understand what you're asking."
The deputy commander raised her sword and settled into a high guard.
"I made myself perfectly clear. Every last one of you is going to die here."
"..."
"Let's see if you can still prattle on about your precious convictions once you're corpses."
Not a single survivor remained — every noble was killed.
The purge swept through their families as well. A portion of the Bretagne army that had departed the imperial capital returned and launched surprise raids on the noble houses. No one was spared — women, the elderly, and children alike were caught up in a wholesale cleansing.
— At present, several nobles are banding together to incite rebellion.
— By imperial decree, such unrest is to be suppressed with utmost urgency.
— The crime of siding with foreign enemies to destabilize the realm from within is deemed egregious; all involved are to be executed without exception.
And so, in the span of a mere two days, three hundred humans were put to death.
The Bretagne forces, satisfied that no aftermath would come of it, marched without delay. Tens of thousands of troops, Frank forces included, sortied to face the Demon Lord's army. Their movements were a textbook example of swift, decisive action.
"......"
The nobles who had survived by acting cautiously bit their lips. In every city square, the severed heads of their companions were impaled on pikes, left alone to be scoured by the wind. Among them lay a young girl-clan head, her eyes closed in death.
The nobles turned away from the squares. They returned to their estates and, in private chambers where no one could see, wept tears of blood.
"I will never forgive you, Bretagne!"
Baron Bersey—the man who insisted on styling himself a baronet—was among those who had survived. Blood trickled from his bitten lip as he screamed in anguish.
"Never! The day when blood dries on Bretagne's soil will never come! With my life, my blood, everything I have—I swear I will repay this grudge!"