Emile Borden was dead. Maxim stared blankly at Emile’s lifeless body, his words of farewell still echoing faintly in his ears. There was no need to close the man’s eyes—despite his severed limbs and spilled entrails, Emile’s partially destroyed face bore a strangely peaceful expression. Ironically, just like his daughter, his right side was completely obliterated.

“…Marion will always be happy.”

Even if Emile could no longer hear, Maxim murmured those words softly, then collapsed a pile of rubble to cover his fallen comrade. Though he couldn’t properly retrieve the body, Maxim hoped at least to prevent Leon Benning’s forces from further desecrating it. He sighed, trying to push down the bitter taste in his mouth, and resumed his search for traces of the First Prince.

“–Senior! Senior!”

Voices calling out to him broke through the stillness. Maxim turned in surprise and saw familiar figures running toward him—members of the First Guard.

“Christine? Senior Charlotte?”

Charlotte reached Maxim first, exhaling a deep breath of relief. Christine, with tears welling in her eyes, grabbed his lapel, clinging to him. Maxim ruffled her hair gently, a faint smile brightening his face.

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Senior!”
“And you too. What about the others?”

Charlotte stepped forward to answer.

“Everyone’s scattered. Some are searching for His Majesty, while others are leading troops to fight off the rebels.”

Charlotte hesitated, her expression betraying curiosity. Maxim quickly discerned what she wanted to ask and replied with a wry smile.

“Senior Denis is safe. He’s with the Fourth Guard, escorting the First Princess to the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Charlotte’s face reddened slightly as she replied in a brusque tone.

“Who said I was curious? …Well, thanks for telling me anyway.”

Her voice trailed off until it was barely audible. Christine, watching this exchange, allowed herself a small smile.

There was no time for further idle chatter. Maxim’s expression hardened as he turned to Christine.

“Christine, have you seen the First Prince or the Second Guard on your way here?”

Christine shook her head, her expression troubled.

“No, I haven’t. Wasn’t the First Princess and First Prince supposed to be together?”
“…No. According to the plan, the First Prince should have arrived at the Adventurer’s Guild first. But when I brought the First Princess there, no one was present.”

Hearing this, Charlotte clicked her tongue.

“So the First Prince has vanished.”
“We also need to confirm His Majesty’s safety. This isn’t the time to relax.”

The situation was grim. Most of the screams echoing around the palace were from royal soldiers, and the scattered corpses bore the uniforms of the Second and Fourth Guards. Charlotte scanned the bloody scene with a pained expression before giving orders.

“I’ll search for the First Prince with Christine. Maxim, you head directly to His Majesty. I trust he’s already been evacuated, but we can’t be sure.”
“Understood. Let’s agree to regroup with the First Princess at the Adventurer’s Guild before dawn in case we get separated.”

As Maxim prepared to leave, Christine grabbed his arm. Her desperate gaze met his.

“Don’t do anything reckless, Senior.”

There was no room for jokes. Maxim nodded firmly at Christine’s plea.

“See you at the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Christine nodded back and hurried off with Charlotte. Maxim watched them go, reassured by Christine’s abilities—if anything, she was Charlotte’s equal or even superior.

Maxim turned toward the heart of the palace, his steps quickening as he passed the bodies of innocents—attendants, maids, chefs, and gardeners. He grimaced, the bloody trail like a path leading him onward.

“–It’s Maxim Apart!”

The sharp cry alerted him to the presence of Leon Benning’s knights and soldiers, who immediately charged toward him. Maxim exhaled slowly, feeling the mana coursing through his veins. Time seemed to slow, his surroundings moving in sluggish detail as he advanced.

“Stop him! Don’t let him through!”

As they rushed to block his path, Maxim muttered under his breath.

“Move.”

His sword danced through the air, a graceful arc that left sprays of blood in its wake. Those who tried to bar his way fell before they could even graze him. His blade, now glistening with blood, cleaved through one opponent after another without pause. The flow of combat seemed unstoppable.

But just as he took another step forward, a loud clang echoed.

“That’s enough, Maxim Apart.”

The vibration through his sword told Maxim all he needed to know—this opponent was no ordinary fighter. A puppet of Leon Benning, no doubt. As always, facing these manipulated knights reminded him of Adeline, forcing thoughts of her suffering to the forefront of his mind.

But there was no time for such reflections. Maxim deflected the blade aimed at his neck and focused on the battle ahead.

“You shall not pass.”

Maxim said nothing, responding only with his sword. Sparks flew as their blades clashed, the force of the impacts keeping other soldiers at bay. To interfere would mean certain death, torn apart by the swirling aura emanating from the duel.

“Your sword… It’s strange.”

The puppet knight frowned, struggling to match Maxim’s relentless strikes despite their aura-clad weapon. Maxim pressed forward, forcing the opponent to retreat step by step.

Faster.

Wounds began to accumulate on the puppet’s body. Maxim’s strikes grew sharper, each blow crushing the knight’s defenses further. Then, almost simultaneously, a shout rang out from afar.

“King George Loire II is dead!!”

Maxim froze. His sword locked in mid-air as disbelief washed over him. Surely, he’d misheard. Why would such news break now? But another voice quickly confirmed it.

“The king is dead!!”
“The rightful ruler of this nation is now Second Prince Kyle Loire!!”

A resounding crash followed as Maxim was thrown back, his sword momentarily dulled. The puppet knight had seized the opportunity to unleash an aura blade, hurling him away. Maxim, stunned, looked past his opponent toward the king’s quarters, his mind clouded with shock and despair.

“It seems the Second Prince has finally succeeded,” the knight muttered.

Maxim barely registered the words. They floated in his mind like fragments: king, death, Second Prince.

The knight’s sharp voice broke through his daze.

“Where are you looking?”

Maxim raised his sword with a lackluster motion, deflecting another strike. The knight’s scowl deepened.

“To be distracted in the middle of combat—how dare you—!”

The knight channeled more mana into their blade, their aura flaring violently. As they lunged toward him, Maxim whispered softly.

“The north wind.”

A chilling gust swept down from the north, cutting through the battlefield like a knife. The knight hesitated, shivering despite themselves.

“You—!”

With a single, precise slash, Maxim’s blade severed the knight’s aura. Blood sprayed into the air, and the knight fell, enveloped by the biting wind.

Silence fell over the battlefield as the soldiers stared at the bloodied figure of Maxim Apart, his piercing gaze and resolute step forcing them to retreat.

“The royal family has already fallen,” came a cold voice.

Maxim’s attention turned to a line of soldiers parting to reveal their leader—Count Leon Benning. At his side stood the Second Prince, his gaze vacant, as if lost in thought.

“You’ve gone too far this time,” Maxim said bitterly.

Leon chuckled, shaking his head.

“Don’t diminish the resolve of the Second Prince. This is his rightful decision, his bold stand against a tyrant who has corrupted this nation.”

Leon gestured grandly, his words dripping with mockery.

“I am merely a servant of his will, aiding in the restoration of this kingdom’s honor.”

Maxim tightened his grip on his sword, his voice icy.

“If the ruler of this bloodstained palace is the one you serve, then I’ll gladly embrace the label of traitor.”

Leon’s eyes glinted with malice as he raised his hand, signaling his forces to surround Maxim.

“Very well. Let’s settle this.”

But just as the circle of blades closed in, a thunderous crash broke the tension.

Standing before Maxim was Hugo Bern, the Royal Guard Captain. His expression was set in stone, his fury barely restrained as he spoke.

“Maxim, leave the palace now. I’ll clear the path.”