The Western Empire

The Grepa Marquessate Estate.

Although they had not yet marched to the front lines, the knights, sharpened and ready at a moment’s notice, would heed the Emperor’s call to battle without hesitation. Through the tense ranks of these warriors, a visitor walked at an unhurried pace.

The Grepa estate was grander than the royal palace of many small kingdoms.

As the visitor moved through the knights lined in solemn formation, they approached Marquess Fried Grepa and greeted him.

“It has been a while, Marquess Grepa .”

“Indeed, it has.”

Fried Grepa received the greeting with outward composure, but beneath the surface, he struggled to mask his confusion.

Why is he here?

“Ah, my apologies. It seems I have been impolite.”

With those words, the visitor slowly removed the hooded robe concealing their face.

As the robe slipped away, their appearance was revealed.

Ears—more akin to those of a beast than a human—stood prominently atop their head.

“So then… as the chieftain of the beastfolk, I, Tiwan, greet Marquess Grepa. Is this the proper way to do it?”

The knights frowned as they watched Tiwan’s awkward attempt at Imperial etiquette.

It was not simply a matter of unfamiliarity. Anyone could tell that his exaggerated formality carried an unmistakable undertone of mockery.

Noticing the shift in the knights’ demeanor, Fried responded in kind, his voice laced with disdain.

“I do not expect proper etiquette from you. Speak as you wish.”

“Hah, is that so? Then I shall speak freely.”

Tiwan merely laughed off the insult before reaching into his garments and pulling out a sealed letter. Without hesitation, he flung it toward the marquess.

Though it was merely paper, the way it was thrown carried a lethal intent—sharper than any dagger.

Yet Fried caught it without so much as a blink. His knights, having expected nothing less, did not react in the slightest.

“This is our proposal. Read it.”

“Our?”

Did he mean the beastfolk? Or… something more?

Fried tore open the seal and began to read.

As his eyes moved down the page, his expression darkened, and his grip on the parchment tightened. The shift in his demeanor sent a ripple through the knights, their already sharpened presence growing even more dangerous.

“So… you expect me to betray His Majesty?”

“Who knows? I’m not privy to the letter’s details. It was written by one of our smarter folk and some guy named Roderon or whatever.”

The message was clear.

It spoke of assassinating the Emperor and the entire Imperial family, urging Fried to stand aside and wait—until the throne was his for the taking.

“Madmen.”

Did they truly believe that just because Lute and Giore had wavered, Grepa would as well?

“If you refuse,” Tiwan said with a grin, “I’ll have to kill you. So think carefully before you decide.”

A slow, predatory smile spread across the beastfolk leader’s face.

“…Hah.”

To utter such blasphemy in the very heart of Grepa’s domain—within the Marquess’s own estate, no less.

Since when had the Empire’s noble houses been reduced to objects of such blatant disrespect?

“How distasteful, watching a mere beast strut about on two legs and speak as though it were my equal. Kill him.”

At his command, the Grepa knights drew their swords in unison.

Tiwan, who had been waiting for this very moment, let out a hearty laugh and extended his claws.

Similar events were unfolding across the Empire.

The beastfolk had entered the war between Edelvine and the Empire.

————————————————————————-

“The Counts of Molf, Saradin, and Ktan have been completely wiped out. It is presumed that the houses of Jebon and Gordon have defected. The noble families below the rank of Count are also being targeted—none have defected, only been slaughtered. It appears that those below the rank of Count are not even being given the option to surrender.”

Ha.

They got us.

The Empire is far too vast for me and my direct subordinates to govern alone.

No matter how many eyes and ears we scatter throughout the land, it is impossible to track every individual’s movements, especially when they are not acting as a collective force.

That is precisely why we entrusted each region to its own lords—to rule and defend their territories.

“So, this was why they moved Lute and Giore.”

If enemies had dared infiltrate the Empire, it was the duty of the lords to rise and crush them.

But now, those very lords had turned traitor.

“What about the Giore bastards?”

“They have yet to make a move, but considering that Jebon and Gordon, noble houses of the East, have already defected…”

“Damn it.”

Sending small elite forces to sow chaos in enemy territory—

It sounds simple, but in reality, it is not an easily executed strategy.

After all, how many warriors are strong enough to single-handedly—or even in small numbers—pressure and annihilate noble houses?

Anyone who lacks overwhelming power would be swarmed and killed by the knights’ combined attacks. Only those on the level of a Master, or at least close to it, could possibly succeed.

And among humans, the only force with such an abundance of Master-level warriors was the Empire itself.

But the Empire preferred sheer overwhelming might over subtlety.

However, if we expand our scope beyond humanity—across the entire continent—

There are other factions with multiple Master-level warriors.

“…To think the Edelvine scum would bring the beastfolk into this war. What of the Western region?”

Having just received word that the East and South had been reduced to ruins, I turned my attention to the West.

It was my maternal family’s homeland, yet paradoxically, it was the region I was least concerned about.

Unlike other lords who had been forced to build their power in secret while avoiding the Imperial family’s watchful eyes, Grepa had merely maintained a surface-level pretense of compliance,

strengthening their forces openly under my direct support.

And Fried had received many personal gifts from me—he would not fall so easily.

Confirming my expectations, Dia reported,

“The Grepa household is currently engaged in battle with a beastfolk warrior who introduced himself as the chieftain of his tribe.”

“Have they requested reinforcements?”

“No. However, Marquess Grepa did relay a message—he believes that Princess Rael may be in danger.”

“There’s no need to worry about that.”

I glanced at the empty seat where Giel had been just moments ago.

From the moment I heard the first reports, I had already sent him.

Rael would be safe.

“…To throw away both Daman and Tamiel as bait.”

Of course. Roderon. That lunatic.

“Has Roderon’s location been identified yet?”

“No, my apologies.”

“Find him, no matter what it takes. Also, send word to Sien —tell him to return to the capital as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, understood.”

“Sir Feltz .”

“Yes.”

“You will remain here. Send Unit 1 to the East. Their targets are the defected noble houses, the beastfolk, and Giore. Can you handle it?”

“The beastfolk’s full strength has yet to be confirmed. Unit 1 alone may not be enough. Unit 2’s commander is lightly injured, so I will send him as well.”

“Do so.”

“Your Majesty, so far only the beastfolk’s elites have moved, but there is a chance their main forces may mobilize as well. How should we stop them…?”

“…There is no other choice. We must request aid from the Grand Duke .”

I wanted to handle this crisis using only the cards in my own hand.

But in a situation like this, there was no other way.

“…Has Duke Fael recovered?”

“Yes. After taking an elixir, all his injuries have fully healed. As per Your Majesty’s previous orders, he is currently resting, but…”

“I regret this, but I must rescind that order. Inform the Duke that he must return to the capital immediately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Haa…

A sigh escaped me.

This situation was growing increasingly exhausting.

“Additionally, Minister—send word to the kings of Jer, Anon, and Haeon. If they so much as consider interfering in this war, I will turn their lands into a wasteland where no living being can survive.”

“…Understood, Your Majesty.”

Even as the meeting continued, reports kept coming in—some noble house had been slaughtered in one region, while in another, a house had successfully repelled a beastfolk attack.

Even if we emerged victorious in this war, I had a grim premonition. The wounds we suffered would not easily heal.

The atmosphere in the chamber grew heavy with that realization.

Elsewhere, at the Same Time

While the Empire’s leaders gathered for an emergency meeting, Roderon and the leader of the beastfolk were also holding a discussion.

“So, Daman and Tamiel failed to accomplish anything. It seems your gambit was utterly useless.”

“What nonsense. Because of them, their attention was diverted, allowing your forces to move freely.”

Though Roderon had entered the beastfolk’s main encampment with only a handful of subordinates, he looked perfectly at ease, as if he were in his own home.

He idly tapped his mask with one hand and spoke.

“In any case, Chieftain, the Empire no longer has much of its army left. If your forces march now, the dragon will move. Can you buy us time?”

At Roderon’s question, the beastfolk’s chieftain let out a soft chuckle.

“Buy time? What a ridiculous notion.”

The undisputed leader of all beastfolk.

The peak of his race.

The chieftain of the Lion Tribe.

Leo, King of the Beastfolk, made his declaration.

“We will hunt the dragon.”

“So keep your promise, Roderon.”

At those bold, arrogant words, Roderon swallowed his laughter and responded smoothly.

“Of course. As you wish.”

Though the chieftain was from the Lion Tribe, his domain was adorned with nothing but symbols of wolves.

Observing this, Roderon spoke once more.

“In the name of Edelvine, I promise. Your guardian deity shall return.”