Before the throne room doors, when Riezel’s group of four arrived here, they immediately noticed something was different from usual—the number of guards stationed before the throne room had clearly increased.
Dozens of knights stood in two straight columns before the doors, as if awaiting some important figure’s arrival—each fully armed, equipped with magic weapons and magic armor, their faces tense and solemn.
"Sir Riezel Brynhart and Marquis Yuri Frenzel—here for an audience!"
Even before Riezel and Yuri had reached him, the civil official standing beside the throne room doors called out loudly, as if in a hurry to announce their arrival.
*CLANG!*
A thunderous sound followed as the knights in both lines stepped forward in perfect unison, striking their left chests with their right hands—the clang of gauntlets colliding with armor rang out together, a crisp metallic roar echoing through the hall.
It had to be said, the sight of these solemn, perfectly synchronized knights performing their welcoming salute was awe-inspiring and intimidating.
At this sight, Riezel and Euryale remained calm, while Yuri and Marilyn both stiffened slightly, their faces tightening with apprehension.
Clearly, the two women—both frequent visitors to the royal palace—had already realized this audience was not like the usual ones.
It was both a ceremony and intimidation, both a welcome and a warning.
Needless to say, the king beyond the doors was expressing his intent without words.
Realizing the gravity of this audience, Yuri and Marilyn exchanged a glance as the once-familiar doors of the throne room now seemed to transform into the gaping maw of a dark abyss beast, waiting for them to step inside.
If they dared to enter, what awaited might not be literal hell, but it would surely be a dark abyss swamp capable of melting flesh and devouring hearts.
"What exactly is His Majesty planning...?"
Yuri muttered quietly, sounding somewhat uneasy.
"..."
Marilyn said nothing, her eyes fixed on the throne room’s doors, her silence as heavy as death.
Only Riezel paused for the briefest moment when he saw the scene.
"Interesting..."
Uttering his usual catchphrase, Riezel stepped boldly into the knights’ ceremonial formation, striding forward toward the throne room as if walking willingly into a trap.
Such a calm expression and fearless posture quietly dispelled the faint fear that had just taken root in Yuri and Marilyn’s hearts—even the oppressive atmosphere built up by the knights seemed to waver, turning turbid, unsettled.
Several knights’ expressions subtly changed as they watched the young Sword Saint stride past them with unwavering calm, a hint of awe and admiration flickering in their eyes.
They knew well that the young man before them was one of the few standing at the pinnacle of all swordsmen. Young though he was, not even the combined presence of the entire knightly order could make him falter.
Realizing such a fact, the knights’ collective pressure faltered a second time, losing much of its intimidating weight.
In this heavy atmosphere, Riezel—pulling along Euryale, who had stopped rubbing her eyes and finally woken from her drowsiness—approached the great doors of the throne room.
As Riezel drew nearer, the two knights stationed by the doors immediately stepped forward and slowly pushed them open.
"Attendants are not permitted inside. Please wait here."
Just then, the civil official’s voice rang out, addressing Euryale and the approaching Marilyn, prompting Yuri to cast him a brief, sharp glance.
Indeed, attendants were forbidden to enter the throne room, just as swords had to be removed at the threshold.
In the past, whenever Yuri came here, Marilyn had always waited outside and was never once permitted entry, yet before, the civil official had never been so eager to remind them of this rule.
Now, he had spoken up even before the attendants could take a single step forward, as if he couldn’t wait to stop them.
Clearly, this was also a message.
"Erie."
Riezel’s expression didn’t change as he released Euryale’s hand and addressed the queen by a nickname.
"You’ll wait here."
Euryale lifted her beautiful, ruby-like eyes to look at Riezel, and after a brief glance, she obediently stepped aside, her graceful movement drawing a few astonished looks from nearby knights as she quietly stood by to await further orders.
"Marilyn."
Yuri spoke next, her voice calm but firm.
"Yes."
Marilyn bowed respectfully, then retreated to stand beside Euryale, entering standby as well.
"Please, the two of you may enter."
Seeing the two attendants stand aside, the civil official finally exhaled in relief and gestured politely toward the open doors.
Riezel and Yuri stepped forward together into the throne room.
Inside was much the same as before—a red carpet stretched across the floor, stone pillars lined the sides, and the vaulted ceiling loomed overhead.
Rows of knights and finely dressed officials stood on both sides, facing each other, extending from the entrance all the way to the throne at the far end of the hall.
Upon that throne sat Hendrick, crown upon his head, royal robes draped over his shoulders, and a splendid sword in his hand, held like a scepter. Just like during the last audience, he looked down from on high, surveying those below.
However, this time, something was clearly different.
Not only did the knights lined up on the left side exude an aura far stronger than before, but their equipment was also different—not standard-issue magic weapons or magic armor, but distinct, personalized gear.
And on their chests gleamed identical medals—the Sword Master Medal.
In other words, all these knights were Sword Masters.
At their head stood one man whose armor and sword were even finer than the rest—his expression calm and detached, his demeanor composed and cold.
However, the medal on his chest was different from the rest—it was the Sword Saint Medal.
As soon as Yuri saw him, her eyes widened slightly.
"Florent Borley..."
Yuri whispered the name under her breath, a bead of cold sweat forming.
Florent Borley—the current Sword Saint and head of the Borley family, captain-commander of the Royal Knightly Order.
He was recognized as one of the top two Sword Saints in the entire Jinas—a descendant of a lineage so powerful that he could even contend for first place.
Yuri’s gaze lingered the longest on Florent before sweeping across the gathered knights, each wearing a Sword Master Medal on their chests.
’Bartos Regent, Captain of the 2nd Knight Division...’
’Harry Dover, Captain of the 4th Knight Division...’
’Arita Louis, Captain of the 7th Knight Division...’
’Even the Captains of the 8th Knight Division, the 9th, the 12th, the 15th, the 18th, the 19th, and the 22nd... they all showed up?’
Yuri’s expression grew increasingly grave.
Jinas’s Royal Knightly Order was divided into twenty-two divisions, each consisting of over a thousand knights and led by a captain responsible for overall command and coordination. All these captains were highly respected senior swordsmen—each a long-established Sword Master.
In other words, they were expert Sword Masters, far stronger than ordinary ones.
They were equipped with top-grade magic weapons, clad in the finest enchanted armor, and some even wielded powerful mystical artifacts or magic items. Whether in strength, equipment, or heritage, they stood far above the average expert Sword Master.
Albert Borley, once praised as the best swordsman just below a Sword Saint, served as the Captain of the 1st Division—his strength alone spoke volumes, leaving no need for further elaboration.
As for the other twenty-one captains, even if they were slightly inferior to Albert, the difference was minimal.
Of course, their status within the kingdom was likewise prestigious—to rise to the position of captain, one generally needed to hold a noble title, be it baron, viscount, or even count or marquis.
And within the Royal Knightly Order, the only ranks higher than theirs were those of the captain-commander and the vice-captain-commander.
At present, however, the vice-captain-commander’s position was vacant.
Having lost to Albert in a formal duel last year, the previous vice-captain-commander had since announced his retirement, so in the current Royal Knightly Order, aside from the captain-commander, the highest-ranking, most powerful, most authoritative, and most influential individuals were these captains.
And now, out of the twenty-two total captains, ten had shown up in person.
Each had also brought along their vice-captain, and every one of those vice-captains was a Sword Master as well.
In other words, the lineup standing on the left side consisted of one Sword Saint, ten expert Sword Masters, and ten regular Sword Masters—a total of twenty-one people.
On the right, facing them, stood another group that was no longer composed of nobles and high officials as before, but of magicians wearing luxurious robes—twenty-one magicians in total.
Yuri knew every one of these magicians well—they were the elites among the court magicians who formed the royal magic corps, standing parallel to the Royal Knightly Order.
However, unlike the knights, their ranks weren’t as clearly defined, and they answered not to Yuri—the chief court magician—but directly to the king himself.
In short, they were a magic corps serving solely under the king’s command.
Each was either a Tactical-Class Magician personally recruited by the kingdom—every one of whom held a noble title, at least a viscount, with some being major nobles such as counts and marquises—or a highly accomplished magician recognized throughout the world of magic for exceptional achievements in specialized fields.
Among the twenty-one magicians present, ten were Tactical-Class Magicians, while the remaining eleven were renowned magicians in their respective disciplines.
Yuri’s eyes widened slightly when she spotted one particularly terrifying figure among them.
"Ferras Lacremis..."
An unconscious whisper slipped from her lips.
Ferras Lacremis was an old man, over seventy, his face deeply lined, his hair gray and sparse, his expression kind and serene, like that of a scholar who had long since seen through worldly desires and was ready to live out his days in quiet seclusion.
He seemed to notice Yuri’s gaze as he turned toward her, smiling warmly, and gave a gentle nod.
Yuri instinctively nodded in return, and for good reason, her expression showed unmistakable respect.
Ferras was a highly revered figure among the court magicians—both admired and respected.
He was not only a Tactical-Class Magician but also a professor in the world of magic, currently serving as the director of Spriller Academy—the mentor and guide of countless magicians.
He had also mastered numerous Tactical-Class Magic, and his research in Combat-Class Magic had reached near perfection.
Many considered him the greatest magician, second only to Nibald Garland, as even when facing a Sword Saint, he could fight evenly and remain undefeated for a time.
In fact, his contributions to the world of magic were immeasurable, surpassing even those of the two Strategic-Class Magicians of Jinas and Grandmaster Nibald, whose power rivaled that of a Sword Saint.
He had developed hundreds of magic spells.
He had unraveled countless mysteries of ancient magical civilizations.
He was a scholar versed in ancient magology, ancient linguistics, ancient civilizations, ancient history, modern magical theory, alchemy, herbology, and magical material science—each of which contributed directly or indirectly to the advancement of magic.
Even though his raw power might not equal Nibald’s, even Nibald himself would respectfully call him ’Grandmaster.’
It was said that, should Ferras raise his voice, half the kingdom would march into fire at his command, and were he not so absorbed in numerous disciplines, he could have refined his Combat-Class Magic to a level surpassing even Nibald, becoming the strongest magician in all of Jinas.
And some even claimed that if Ferras were ever to fall, it would be a loss not only for Jinas but for modern magic civilization itself.
Countless Tactical-Class Magicians had studied under him, and countless respected magicians followed his teachings.
In truth, his prestige within Jinas arguably surpassed even that of Sword Saint Florent Borley—even the king himself held deep respect for Ferras’s counsel and advice.
He was also one of the kingdom’s marquises—a venerable scholar whom even the crown prince addressed as his mentor.
Yuri herself had studied at Spriller Academy and, strictly speaking, was once his student as well, having been personally instructed by him for a time, which was why she held him in the highest regard.
In fact, she respected him even more than the king seated upon the throne—she revered him from the bottom of her heart, for his influence exceeded even that of Sword Saint Florent Borley.
With a single word, he could command the obedience of nearly every magician in the kingdom, especially those who had once studied at Spriller Academy.
’Even he came?’
For the first time, Yuri felt a chill of dread well up inside her.
What on earth was happening?
Why were so many of the kingdom’s most powerful figures gathered here?
Her heart sank to the very bottom as she slowly turned her head toward Riezel, her gaze now filled with growing concern.
Now, she realized that this matter would not be resolved easily.
===
[A bonus Chapter for every 500 Power Stones.]
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