News of Sibylla’s death was announced several days later.
Because her recent actions had been so destructive, the powers within the Holy Kingdom secretly welcomed the outcome.
They hoped that a new king would restore the kingdom to its proper course.
But before that could happen, inevitable chaos had to unfold.
Who would become the new king?
Until now, the royal family members who had kept a low profile began to quietly raise their heads. Even the nobles who had protected them started to gauge the situation.
A fierce, shadowy battle for the throne was about to begin.
“Bring me someone decent.”
Yuri said as he sat at the garden’s tea table, basking in the sunlight.
He was currently staying at Francesco’s residence.
“Let’s just pick anyone who’s sensible and brave enough to fight the Empire. That’s all we need.”
Opposite Yuri sat Francesco, Fennec, and Umstein.
Francesco shrugged.
“Yuri, you know how rare sensible people are.”
“Well, there aren’t many here either.”
“And me?”
“Not many here either.”
“What about me…?”
“And I’m withdrawing from Alas.”
Yuri shrugged again. Francesco rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.
“Do you think Bursen would accept?”
“I’ll talk to him. If we promise not to touch Alas anymore, he might.”
“You’re close with Bursen?”
“He was a big deal in the Allied Forces.”
“Alas was originally Holy Kingdom territory…”
“Better to lose it than to lose everything to the Empire. You saw Sibylla. The Empire’s been doing outrageous things—scheming nonsense. This isn’t the time to fight over a place like Alas.”
“Hmm…”
Francesco cleared his throat. Having witnessed the true nature of black magic through Sibylla, he couldn’t deny Yuri’s words.
No one else but a king had been turned into a monster.
It was an event that could throw the entire continent into turmoil.
“But you can’t just pick a king whenever you want…”
“The Holy Knights’ support is what matters.”
Yuri looked Francesco straight in the eye.
“If you step up, you can put a new king on the throne. You’re a symbol of the Holy Kingdom.”
“I told you—I can’t fight like I used to.”
“That doesn’t matter. Your name alone carries weight. At least try.”
“I’m a has-been. Nobody acknowledges me anymore, and politics bore me.”
“Ha ha…”
Yuri gave a dry laugh. Then, shifting his gaze between Francesco and Fennec, his eyes sharpened.
An intimidating aura radiated from him.
“Francesco, Fennec.”
Yuri placed his fingertips on the table.
“When Sibylla was cornered, you just watched. When she couldn’t take it anymore and acted, you tried to kill her. And I was the one who ended it all. Now that she’s dead, you act like it’s none of your business? If some idiot becomes king, will you only then scramble to kill him?”
Francesco scratched his head, trying to explain.
“No, that’s regrettable. But none of us expected Sibylla to end up like that…”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know. You saw Larsson trying to sell her off to that dwarf. You hoped everything would smooth over if only Sibylla bore the burden alone. Honestly, you probably expected orichalcum to come to the Holy Kingdom in exchange for selling her out, didn’t you?”
“What are you saying? That’s not true. We would never…”
“Then step up now.”
Yuri’s gaze turned icy as he stared at Francesco.
“From my perspective, this secret society is a joke. When Sibylla needed help, you stood still. Now that the fire’s on my own feet, you’re ready to kill a girl. Blaming Sibylla is laughable. I’d do the same. I’d make a deal with the devil if it meant toppling you bastards.”
The room fell silent.
Behind Yuri, Jared, Simon, and Guiness stood quietly, their stern expressions lending weight to his words.
Umstein, who had been listening quietly, finally broke the silence.
“He’s right. Didn’t I say we shouldn’t leave Gultenstein alone? You ignored me then, but now you’re scrambling to clean up the mess. It’s ridiculous. If I had to be sold to some stranger, I’d rather hold the hand of a black magic grandpa.”
“Sigh…”
Francesco sighed and nodded.
“You’re right. We can’t say we’re blameless. I’m no different.”
“I’m not here to argue about blame. From now on, let’s do our best. Everyone has to.”
“Sigh, yeah. They’ll laugh at a has-been stepping up, but I guess I have to accept it.”
“If a little laughter solves the problem, then by all means, accept it. And…”
Yuri stood up.
“If you’re a has-been, then just come back to active duty.”
“What?”
“You said you can’t handle mana anymore.”
“Yeah, I…”
“I’ll help you handle it.”
“What?”
Yuri’s eyes darkened.
“I can see it.”
When Francesco said he could no longer use mana, Yuri had a strange premonition and examined his body through the realm of the soul.
A black energy was blocking his core.
“Black magic energy is sealing off your core, Francesco.”
“What are you talking about? I lost my mana a long time ago.”
“That means the black magic had already reached out in advance. It’s been preparing for a long time.”
Putting together all the information so far, Cedric had learned black magic through the demon grimoire hidden by Erich Briol.
No one knew exactly when it started, but Yuri wouldn’t be surprised if it had begun long ago.
Cedric had been sharp since childhood.
“Anyway, there’s a way. Not now, but I’ll help you.”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie?”
Yuri looked at Francesco.
“I said we have to do our best. Same goes for me. You regaining your strength makes my job easier. That just shows how bad the situation is.”
Fennec brightened.
“If that’s true, it’ll be a huge help. If Francesco regains his power… Can it happen right away?”
“Not now. I know a wizard who’s currently researching black magic. Once he returns, it might be possible. We should meet soon.”
Yuri could destroy the black magic energy but couldn’t remove it from the human body.
However, Hernando, who had studied black magic and parchments extensively, could probably draw out the black energy from Francesco’s body temporarily. Unlike Sibylla, the black magic hadn’t fully fused with Francesco’s flesh, so it was feasible.
“Then, is there anyone suitable to crown king?”
“Hmm…”
Francesco and Fennec exchanged glances. Umstein subtly joined in.
Yuri tilted his head.
“Why the hesitation?”
“There is someone, but I’m not sure if he wants to do it. If it’s him, he’d do well.”
“Who?”
“Luther.”
Yuri didn’t know who that was and thought for a moment. Then his eyes widened.
“The youngest?”
The youngest of the three brothers who had caused trouble for Yuri at the tavern was named Luther.
Yuri recalled his carefree face, always saying he had no worries and lived without incident.
“He’s royal blood?”
“Yes, and also a candidate for the papacy.”
“Candidate for pope?”
Yuri’s surprise grew.
“Yeah, he joked at first that he was the pope…”
“Not the pope yet, but one of the saints considered as a candidate for the next pope.”
A saint was a papal candidate chosen by the temple—someone deeply faithful, upright in character, and gifted in sacred law.
“He’s devoted to the temple, but his bloodline isn’t bad.”
“His abilities are decent too.”
“But I worry if he’d even want to do it…”
Yuri said, “I’ll make him want to.”
“You will?”
“Yes. Where is Luther now?”
Yuri stood up.
“People’s hearts are simple. If you hold a knife to their throat and ask if they want to be king or die, who wouldn’t choose to be king?”
Umstein, listening nearby, burst out laughing.
“You sure know how to talk. Is that a Briol thing?”
“Be king or die.”
Contrary to Umstein’s thoughts, Yuri actually held a knife to Luther’s throat and threatened him.
“Uh, uh…”
Luther panicked, eyes darting.
“Your Highness?”
“I heard you’re of royal blood.”
“Y-yeah, that’s true…”
“Look me in the eye.”
Luther met Yuri’s gaze.
“Do you look sane to me?”
“No.”
Yuri pressed the knife closer.
“Ah! Why?”
“I don’t like your answer.”
“I was just answering your question…”
“Anyway, you’re going to be king.”
“I’m devoted to the temple. I’m a saint.”
“I’m holding a knife to your throat telling you to be king. You think I don’t know that?”
“N-no, of course not…”
Luther swallowed hard.
He had been quietly reading at home when a shadow flickered behind him, and in an instant, a sack was thrown over his head.
He lost consciousness, and when he came to, he found himself tied to a chair. Yuri Briol, the prince of Briol, was pressing a knife to his throat, threatening him to become king.
From what he could tell, Yuri Briol’s eyes were a little unhinged.
He’d never seemed quite right from the start.
“I’m not even sure the temple would accept it…”
“I’ll get their permission.”
“How…?”
“By holding a knife to the throats of anyone who says no. Threaten them.”
“Like this?”
“Exactly.”
Yuri said.
“I know it goes against all reason, but there’s no other way right now. Otherwise, we won’t be able to stop that empire and those damn black mages.”
He was definitely handling things roughly. But if he didn’t do it this way, nothing would move forward.
If he’d insisted on playing by the rules, they never would have stopped Sibylla, nor would they have been able to put forward a king to fight the empire on his terms.
Only an unpredictable force could overturn the Holy Kingdom and stand against Cedric.
Yuri had decided to become that unpredictable force himself.
“I don’t have time. If you don’t want this, I’ll find someone else. So let’s get this over with.”
“Huh?”
“Say you’ll be king. I’ll count to three. One. Two…”
He counted fast.
Luther realized that Yuri Briol was truly half out of his mind. He was relentless.
Before Yuri even reached three, the knife was already pressing harder.
Luther answered immediately.
“Fine! I’ll do it!”
“Good. That’s better.”
“You damn…”
“That’s how the world works.”
“You bastard…”
“Feel free to curse all you want.”
Yuri grinned and patted Luther on the shoulder.
“Hey, you—used to live a worry-free, uneventful life. From now on, you’re in for a world of headaches.”
“Well, that’s fine for me, but what about the temple?”
“There’s a way.”
The Holy Knights would step in, and Yuri planned to pressure the temple through Vlad and Fennec, who had ties to him.
“Besides, if you—someone close to the temple—become king, the temple will be more than happy about it.”
“It’s unprecedented for a saint to quit halfway and return to the secular world.”
“Really unprecedented?”
“Yes. Only if they commit some grave sin and are excommunicated…”
The moment he said that, Luther realized his mistake.
This man really was the type to hold a knife to someone’s throat. Tearing someone’s life apart didn’t faze him in the slightest.
“Violence, murder, arson, theft, blasphemy. Which one do you want?”
“You crazy bastard…”