Chapter 17: The Walking God of Destruction
"Lord Emrik—" Empress Althaea's voice carried carefully measured concern. "Why did you choose only Thalira for this banquet?"
She stood before the Emperor's private study, trying to read his expression while maintaining the appearance of a worried mother rather than a woman fishing for information about plans she couldn't quite grasp.
"Ah." Emperor Emrik plucked another grape from the bowl beside him, chewing thoughtfully. "Thalira is an adult now. She needs to understand politics beyond her clumsy court behavior." His golden eyes fixed on Althaea with the weight of absolute authority. "As for her security—two Imperial Generals, a thousand Imperial Guards, and the entire Zyrick State military. More than sufficient. And don't think ill of Zyrick, my dear. It's as much an organ of Aurelith as your own heart is part of your body."
The dismissal was clear. Althaea bowed and retreated, her mind still circling the mystery of that burned note.
---
By midmorning, the imperial caravan had assembled at the palace gates.
Two elaborate carriages bore the imperial seal—the first for Princess Thalira, Senior Maid Zeta, and Minister Graham; the second for General Baschain and General Masoo. Behind them, a full military escort of mounted guards stretched in precise formation.
The route was carefully planned: Capital Siena to State Aitu, then State Ryounjiku, then finally State Zyrick. Fresh horses would be waiting at each state border, allowing them to travel at maximum speed. Half a day if conditions held. The banquet would commence the following morning.
Inside the lead carriage, Thalira watched the capital's grand architecture give way to open countryside. "I don't understand why Father wants me to perform these specific activities. Eating with rebels? It seems beneath a princess."
Minister Graham sat across from her, his expression carefully neutral. "It seems your father knows the exact nerves of this ongoing incident, Your Highness. Trust in his wisdom."
The answer was reassuring in tone but said absolutely nothing.
'It seems random to me,' Thalira thought, turning her attention to the window. The landscape was shifting—the river that marked the border between capital territory and State Aitu now visible, its waters catching afternoon light. Beyond lay Aitu's famous academy towers, where the Empire's finest minds were refined and shaped. Educational institutions that had produced three generations of brilliant strategists and administrators.
Thalira had never been interested in that kind of power. She preferred the direct approach.
The carriage rolled on toward whatever waited in Zyrick.
---
Three hundred miles away, in the grand hall of State Maru's ducal palace, a minister bowed low before Duke Theo Muskil.
"My lord, Mabel isn't here. We don't know where he went."
Duke Theo—twenty-seven years old, perpetually smiling, radiating the kind of goodwill that made people trust him instantly—simply laughed. "It seems he began his wandering early this year. He won't return until he's walked the length and breadth of Aurelith."
He stood and moved to the display case where Mabel's formal knight uniform hung like a museum piece—pristine, unused, a symbol of rank the man himself rarely bothered with. The Fantom Spear was notably absent. Only the Ring Blades remained, those brutal circular weapons that could sever limbs at twenty paces.
"A walking god of destruction," Theo murmured with genuine admiration. "Being an absolute angel to everyone he meets. Indeed, the beloved Mabel of Maru has grown far beyond what any of us expected."
Sworn brothers, though not by blood. Theo ruled Maru in name. Mabel ruled it in practice—protecting every village, every farm, every citizen within hundreds of miles. Not through authority, but through sheer presence.
When Mabel was home, Maru was untouchable.
When he wandered, people simply trusted he'd return when needed.
The minister cleared his throat. "Should we send word to recall him, my lord? With the Zyrick situation—"
"No." Theo's smile didn't waver. "If Mabel needs to be somewhere, he'll be there. That's simply how he is."
---
On a dusty road heading south toward State Zyrick, a merchant's carriage rattled along at modest speed. Inside, a man slept sprawled across the bench with the complete lack of self-consciousness that came from never having met a threat worth worrying about.
White cloak, hood pulled low. What was visible of his hair showed dark strands with occasional white streaks in a wild, untamed cut. A rosemary leaflet rested between his teeth, extending slightly past his lips even as he napped. Beside him, wrapped in white cloth and taking up most of the carriage space, lay something impossibly long and heavy.
An eight-year-old boy poked at the cloth-wrapped bundle, trying to lift one end. It didn't budge even slightly.
"This guy is so arrogant," the child complained to his father, who sat across managing the travel accounts. "He didn't even pay us to escort him to Zyrick!"
"Hush, boy." The merchant kept his voice low, not wanting to wake their passenger. "We earn enough from regular cargo. Whatever he's carrying is his business, and it doesn't cost us much to have another body in the carriage."
"But it's heavy! What if it's treasure? We should charge him more—"
"We should mind our business." The father leaned forward slightly. "And you should learn when to be grateful for what we have. Now be quiet before you wake him."
The boy sulked but obeyed, turning his attention to the window.
His father called up to the carriage handler: "Try to reach State Zyrick by nightfall if possible. I heard there's going to be a gathering of nobles tomorrow—more money for merchants like us."
The handler acknowledged and urged the horses to a slightly faster pace.
Inside the carriage, the sleeping man's lips curved slightly around the rosemary sprig. He wasn't truly asleep—hadn't been for the past hour—but these small conversations told him more about the world than official reports ever did.
Nobles gathering in Zyrick. A banquet, perhaps. Which meant politics. This kind of occasions always excites him — meeting new people and understanding about how beautiful this world it .
On another side Hunter Knight Urus was preparing to make Thalira feel the evilness of a Death Knight.