Late into the night, the lights in the royal capital remained ablaze.

Soldiers patrolled relentlessly, scouring every corner, and even the prestigious knight orders did not hesitate to aid in the search. It was an unusual sight but, in a way, entirely expected.

A monster attack on the Royal Academy.

The attack had occurred that very day, and nobles who had sent their children to the academy were outraged. It was also a matter of pride. How could anyone dare invade the academy, the very heart of the capital where the noble bloodlines gathered under the Pendragon banner?

Such an affront to the kingdom and an insult to Pendragon itself demanded a response. If word of this incident spread to neighboring countries, the kingdom's reputation would be tarnished. Thus, they had to catch the culprits at any cost.

"Search everywhere, leave no stone unturned!"

"Detain anyone suspicious! And watch the mages closely!"

"If they resist, shoot to kill without question!"

The orders were harsh, and the soldiers combed through suspicious locations with a frenzy, as if sweeping out lice.

Especially in the lawless underbelly of the capital.

Normally, this was a hive of criminals that authorities avoided for fear of retribution. But now, even this hornet’s nest wasn’t safe from the search.

"R-run away!"

"I-I’ve done nothing wrong! I swear!"

"Then clean up the body you’re hiding behind you before you lie, you scum worse than a gnoll!"

"Aaaagh!!"

A sudden crackdown on criminals erupted. Perhaps this was a positive side effect.

For the time being, the capital was likely to be lively, and criminals would have to keep their heads down.

–However, despite the sweeping searches and the mobilization of entire battalions…

"Sir, we’ve found them! The sacrifices used for the summoning ritual!"

"...Insane. Who are these lunatics?"

"The trail has gone cold, sir. It makes no sense…"

…unfortunately, [the perpetrators] remained elusive.

Instead, they found traces of the summoning magic.

The remnants.

Massive amounts of sacrifices used to summon the ancient monsters, including the gnoll horde.

But the perpetrators left no clues, not a trace of evidence. Why?

Simply because…

"...They killed them all."

All that remained in the building were thousands of skeletal remains, and there was no other evidence to be found. The only thing they could confirm was that these countless bones were the “living sacrifices” offered up by the terrorists.

And, as expected—

"This… this is madness. These remains—they were all alive just yesterday, weren't they?"

"What?"

"The summoning was performed using the pain, desires, rage, and life force of living people as its foundation. This place was likely a ‘human sacrifice factory,’ designed to generate countless grudges. To summon a monster like the Demon King, they must have cultivated this malice for at least three years… Whoever these people are, they’re truly horrific."

"……"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. If the consultant mage was correct, this was no ordinary crime.

They had crammed thousands of people into a building in the middle of the capital to gather energy for a summoning ritual. For three years.

"Some heads are going to roll for this…."

To sustain that many people for three years would have required a steady supply of food and an entire network of people working in secret.

And yet, they hadn't noticed?

This was a blatant mockery of the capital, a glaring display of its incompetence.

The soldiers who had patrolled this area would likely face more than just dismissal—they might end up in the torture chamber, heading straight to the executioner's block. Someone would have to take responsibility for this disaster.

The very thought sent a chill down their spines. But on the other hand, it was terrifying to consider the sheer madness required to carry out such a plan.

How deranged would one have to be to do something like this?

It wasn’t just a group of terrorists. It had to be a massive organization consumed by madness.

Gulp…

One knight couldn’t hide his fear as he thought about the bloodshed that might soon sweep over the capital.

 

"Fools, they still know nothing," a high-ranking priest observed disdainfully, watching the chaos unfold below.

How could they be so pitifully incompetent?

"We’ve taken on the sins of the world, yet they are too ignorant to understand. Such fools, utterly foolish."

"...Wouldn’t it be stranger if they did understand, commander?" another priest quipped, sounding almost amused.

"They’re just bones now. How could anyone know they were sinners deserving of death? I wish I had that kind of skill, haha."

"You impertinent fool! With true devotion, you’d be able to discern such things!"

"That sounds… impossible."

The two priests exchanged light-hearted banter as they watched from the rooftop. It was as though they had no fear of being discovered, even amidst such a massive military presence.

"Well, soon enough, they’ll realize. When they notice the prisoners have gone missing en masse… If they can’t figure that out, maybe we’ve overestimated this kingdom."

"They’re not that incompetent. If they were, the kingdom would have fallen long ago."

"Hmm, you really think so?"

The subordinate priest didn’t seem entirely convinced, his expression filled with doubt. Normally, the high-ranking priest would have scolded him, but instead, he glanced at his subordinate’s face and remained silent.

After a brief pause, the subordinate spoke again.

"Commander, in the end, we failed today."

"Hmm."

"We’re bound to face severe reprimands."

"Indeed."

"But by moving forward, step by step, we’ll eventually reach ‘salvation,’ right?"

"Of course."

"Is that so? Then I’m content, hehe!"

The subordinate knew his commander was a man who never lied. Therefore, he trusted that his words would come true.

And so—

"Then that’s enough for me. I’ll place my faith in you, commander."

The priest smiled contentedly, conveying his faith, when suddenly—

Crack!

The space around them distorted.

The "mystic barrier" the subordinate priest had set up was shattered.

In an instant, intruders broke through the barrier and surrounded them.

Swish!

Dozens of shadows emerged with stealthy, fluid movements.

Fwoosh!

Their collective aura created a shimmering haze that solidified into iron bars.

Materialized aura.

Each of the fifty or so warriors was a champion of their domains, powerful enough to hold the rank of knight captain or vice-captain in any prominent noble’s retinue. Together, they were a force capable of annihilating even a marquisate within half a day.

Who in the kingdom could gather so many skilled warriors?

There were only two powers in the kingdom capable of such a feat.

And now, the leader of one of those powers had personally appeared.

 

"For nineteen years… I’ve searched for you."

The man who revealed himself was a handsome young man.

He looked young, but in reality, he was over sixty years old. He carried the noble blood of dragons, yet retained the vigor of youth. A swordsman who had never put down his blade in his sixty years of life.

He had inherited the blood of the dragon, but also that of the sacred lake's protector.

“Duke Blake.”

The high-ranking priest whispered his name.

Blake Vivian de Galahad.

The current head of the Galahad family and the most outstanding "chosen one" in the history of the Galahad dukes.

He was one of the pillars of the kingdom's power, a man so influential that he had come to deal with this matter personally.

"Didn’t show your face when your adopted daughter was in danger, yet here you are now."

"You truly are a failure. Then again, that must be why you failed to protect your woman."

Despite the Duke’s presence, the two priests sneered. No fear, no panic—only mockery. It was as though they were incapable of feeling fear in the face of death.

Woom!

The shadows’ auras grew sharper.

The priests’ remarks had insulted not only their master but also the memory of their late lady, provoking the loyal shadows’ wrath.

But the Duke, in contrast—

"Yes, I am a failure."

—showed no change in expression. Instead, he remained cold and detached.

"I failed to protect my woman, and I am the pitiful father who has no choice but to test and doubt his own daughter. I am a man consumed by vengeance, clinging only to revenge, but…!"

Crack!

…While his face remained calm, the aura he emitted was anything but.

It was a dreadful killing intent, burning everything around him, melting even the building.

"Even if it costs me everything, I will uncover the truth."

Crack, crack!

"……"

"…Ugh."

A moment ago, they had mocked him openly, but now they couldn’t say a word.

No, they couldn’t even try.

The Duke’s pressure, akin to a fiery demon’s, was crushing them, tearing flesh and breaking bones.

It was an intense display of force by aura alone, and only then did the two priests realize—

Their opponent was…

"…The greatest of all chosen wielders of the demon sword. It wasn’t just talk."

…the strongest Galahad in history.

Woom!

The aura around the Duke was more potent than that of the combined strength of the fifty warriors present, and it continued to surge. At some point, a sword had appeared in the Duke’s hand—a simple longsword, emitting a faint blue glow.

But this sword…

"I have many questions for you."

…was said to hold the power to destroy nations.

The Demon Sword Lancelot.

The demonic blade from the lake radiated a fearsome and ominous energy.