The Kingdom of Re-Estize
Royal Capital
Lower Fire Month (September 12th)
Nearly four months had passed since the end of the "Gozen Trial," yet the debate surrounding Gazef Stronoff had only grown more intense.
Traditionally, the champion of the trial would be swiftly granted the title of "Knight" by royal decree. But this time, not only had the ceremony been delayed, the title conferred was something altogether unprecedented—Warrior Captain.
It wasn't a title of nobility, nor an official rank. Merely a designation. One that carried no land, no privileges, and no real authority.
The people of the kingdom were outraged. Not only was the honor delayed, it was also diluted. Many felt that Gazef, a man who had proven his worth through sheer strength and will, had been humiliated by the nobility. Their indignation simmered, searching for an outlet.
Conveniently, they found one.
A woman said to be a viscount's daughter from the Baharuth Empire had arrived in the capital, publicly requesting a match with the tournament's champion. It was a perfect storm—foreign, noble-born, and seemingly disrespectful.
The people, powerless against their own corrupt aristocracy, poured all their resentment onto this outsider. With the border skirmishes still fresh in memory, their desire for Gazef to triumph over this imperial challenger was almost nationalistic.
But strangely enough, the nobles of the kingdom remained quiet.
Royal Capital – VIP Guesthouse
A luxurious, golden-trimmed carriage—embellished with the hues of the Baharuth Empire—pulled by two white horses, arrived before a five-story towered building. This was the Royal Guesthouse, reserved for visiting nobility from the provinces or foreign lands.
The coachman dismounted smoothly and placed a cherry-colored wooden stool at the door.
"Lady Leinas, we've arrived."
The door opened, and a graceful figure stepped out, heel tapping against the stool. Lady Leinas, clad in tailored white riding pants and a corset blouse, radiated the sharp composure of someone used to command. Her expression was indifferent, her posture flawless.
She nodded briefly at the driver before walking inside. The servants within the guesthouse, recognizing her status, bowed in passing.
To Leinas, this was nothing unusual.
She had been in the capital for several days now. Initially, she stayed in a private hotel, but soon moved into this official noble lodging upon invitation.
She had just returned from a noble gathering—tedious and hollow.
"A country decaying from the inside out," she thought coldly, sapphire eyes narrowing.
The situation was already becoming clear. A hero like Gazef, admired even in the Empire, was being stonewalled by his own peers. If this were the Baharuth Empire, Emperor Jircniv would've appointed him as a general or advisor. Civilian status meant nothing if strength and merit could be proven.
It all reminded her of the Empire's own broken past, before its reforms.
Arriving at her assigned floor, Leinas opened the door to her room—and froze. A strange presence. Her expression chilled.
"I said my room doesn't need cleaning," she snapped.
But the 'maid' inside paid her no heed, casually munching on a slice of cheese.
"This is Moon Leaf Ash cheese, right?"
"It's not bad. But overrated," the woman said in a deadpan tone, "Spicy for no reason. Total waste of hype."
The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
Lenas's composure cracked. She stepped fully inside, checked the hallway behind her, then closed the door swiftly.
"…What a rare guest. Imina."
Lenas folded her arms, one brow raised. "You've been in the capital all this time and this is your first time dropping by?"
"Oh, please." Imina rolled her eyes, the maid uniform clearly not made for her attitude. "You think I wanted to be the one to come? He's waiting for you."
Lenas's eyes brightened. "Where is the master?"
"Inside."
The guesthouse suites were massive. Each room had three parlors and its own private terrace. In the innermost hall, sunlight streamed in through the high windows.
Minori stood there, hands behind his back, gazing outside. When he turned, light caught the edges of his dark robe—one custom-crafted to accommodate his cursed aura and magical resistance.
"Long time no see, Leinas."
Hearing her true master's voice, Leinas stepped forward and offered a military-style salute, arm to shoulder.
"Sir."
Minori gave a faint smile. Since leaving the Empire, he had moved quickly. His visit to the capital wasn't a leisurely one—his objective was twofold: continue leveling, and test the political waters.
Before contacting either Leinas or Imina, he had made a small detour. The same pawnshop he'd visited shortly after arriving in this world. He'd hoped to recover the gold necklace he once sold for startup funds. The shopkeeper had long since sold it to a minor noble. Tracking the man down had taken time, and though the noble initially asked for 500 gold coins, a little pressure—and Minori's subtle use of fear magic—reduced the price to just one.
Still, he paid it. He wasn't a thief.
"Gazef has accepted the match," Leinas reported. "But I've noticed many of the kingdom's nobles are trying to suppress it."
Minori exhaled through his nose. "Of course. If I lose, the people blame the Empire. But if I win… they fear Gazef's fame will rise further."
"Cowards," Leinas muttered.
"Politics," Minori corrected calmly. "But I didn't come here just to play hero. Let's see how far this match can shake the Kingdom's rotting foundation."