Inside Stanki City.
Duke Willis trembled uncontrollably in his locked chamber.
The room oozed opulence.
Furniture carved from rare timber gleamed under gold-leaf filigree.
Most striking was the four-poster bed—its curtains woven from Bas silk, meters of finest satin cascading like liquid moonlight.
A plush wool rug lay perfectly smooth across the floor.
Priceless oil paintings crowded the walls.
Antique treasures, collected over decades, filled every corner.
The air hung thick with expensive incense.
Yet none of it calmed Willis.
He huddled against the bed, clutching the rug’s edge with white-knuckled fists.
The cloying fragrance now sharpened his dread instead of soothing it.
Warmth filled the room, but a bone-deep chill gripped his bloated frame.
He’d heard the soldiers storming the castle.
Their chaotic footsteps whispered like demons in his ears.
*Don’t want to die! Don’t want to die! Damn Herates! Damn Karl Sven! Worthless fools!*
He cursed the two men who’d bled for Stanki.
In his mind, without them, he’d still be sleeping soundly in the arms of beautiful women.
*Creak…*
The door swung open.
“Aaaah! Don’t kill me! Take anything! Aaaah!”
Willis shrieked like a slaughtered pig before I could utter a word.
Staring at this quivering fat man, I couldn’t reconcile him with the wise ruler from my memories.
*Should I spare him…?*
I hesitated. Truthfully, I hadn’t planned to kill him—he’d harmed no one, betrayed no nation.
“Ah! You must be Strategist of Baha Balm! Lord Sath!”
He scrambled on his knees to my feet, face oozing false deference.
*My title’s reached this far already?*
“I surrender everything! Stanki is yours! Keep my money, my lands—just spare me!”
I stared at him, bewildered. I hadn’t spoken a single word… nor intended murder.
“…Arrest him.”
“I refuse to touch him.”
Mentu, my guard, stated flatly.
“…Then you do it.” I pointed at a nearby soldier. If Mentu wouldn’t, let the grunt handle this flabby non-threat.
“Hah!”
My soldier yanked Willis away from my boots and pinned him.
“Noooooo! Don’t kill me!”
*Ugh. So annoying.*
“We’re not killing you. Be quiet.”
“NO! DON’T KILL MEEEE!”
*I just said that…*
I scanned the gilded room. Hard to believe an “enlightened ruler” lived like this—pure decadent nobility.
Rubbing my temples, I felt a headache bloom from his wails. *Doesn’t he get tired?*
Snot and tears smeared across his distorted, terrified face.
*I can’t believe he governed Stanki well…*
Impossible.
“Halt! Who goes there?!”
A guard’s shout cut through the noise.
Someone approached.
“Your master will want to see me.”
A calm voice reached my ears.
“Let him pass.”
I studied the newcomer.
Simple cloth robes cinched by a leather belt.
Unkempt stubble shadowed his jaw—days, maybe weeks unwashed.
Exhaustion dimmed his eyes.
Yet none of it masked his aura.
The quiet gravity of a true strategist.
“Sass Vies… sir.”
“No formalities, Mr. Sass. You’ve won.”
“My respect is genuine.”
“…Karl Sven. Civil advisor to Duke Willis.”
I already knew: Stanki’s prosperity came not from the sobbing fat man behind me, but from this unassuming figure.
“Will you kill Willis?”
“No such plan.”
Willis instantly perked up. “Untie me! I’m the Duke! Karl, save me, you fool!”
*He still doesn’t grasp his position…*
“Silence.”
Mentu’s dead-eyed glare shriveled Willis instantly.
“If possible… spare him. For my sake.”
“But Mr. Karl—freeing him brings no benefit. Only risk.”
“…”
“Even if I release him? He won’t feel gratitude. Only hatred.”
“…True.”
Karl understood. He knew better than to leave a live bomb ticking in the shadows.
Willis’s fate would be imprisonment.
Sometimes worse than death.
“I’ll trade my life for his freedom.”
“?!”
“My life… should hold value. I believe.”
To me, this man’s worth dwarfed Willis’s like a mountain over a pebble.
*He’s not worth it. That fat fool isn’t worth it.*
“Join Baha Balm. I’ll free Willis on the spot.”
Karl shook his head.
He’d expected the offer.
But he wouldn’t accept.
His gaze drifted to the broken man behind him—a storm of emotions in his weary eyes.
