The Sapphire Paladin’s heart raced in her chest. It was midnight, and she hadn’t been able to sleep for almost a full day—there was just too much going on, and even in the few hours she had to rest, sleep wasn’t coming. How could she? After all, August would arrive in the city by morning, and their defenses were not anywhere close to being finished. Cold dread had long settled into her stomach, for she knew that there was no way she was going to be able to hold the city for long.

Prince Octavius had holed up in his room, refusing to leave or to acknowledge the position he was in. He was still acting as if August were hundreds of miles away, as if Duke Duronius weren’t captured, as if Earthshaker hadn’t been defeated, as if their northern army were still intact.

At this point, it was Sapphire alone who was keeping Octavius’ cause alive, and given how many nobles and their retainers were fleeing the city as August’s fleets drew closer and closer, she wasn’t going to get any help. The Royal Palace was almost completely deserted, save for herself, Octavius, and a Legion. Nearly all of the bureaucrats had abandoned them, fleeing into the city to hide with their families or quitting the city entirely.

Even now, Sapphire wanted to leave. Being a noblewoman, she wasn’t too attached to the Bull Kingdom as a state, and she knew that as a seventh-tier mage, she could find employment no matter where she went. If she wasn’t going to become Queen, then leaving the Bull Kingdom would be the best option.

But if there was one thing she hated, it was quitting. All wasn’t lost here, there were still noble armies waiting to be called upon in the west, along with a few spare Legions. If she and Octavius left the capital, they could still salvage the mess that had been made of this whole endeavor.

Committing herself to this one last chance, Sapphire rose from her bed where she’d been trying to get just a little bit of sleep and quickly dressed. Before she could leave her room, however, a loud rapping came from her door.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, presuming it to be one of her assistants bringing her word about some other problem that everyone else was too braindead to solve without her. Again, someone knocked on her door, irritating her to no end—this was the middle of the night during the brief time she’d set aside for sleep, disturbing her might as well be a death sentence given the circumstances.

Straightening out her clothes, she walked over to the door as the rapping continued, angrily opening it and shouting, “WHAT?!”

Any further shouting died in her throat as she registered who was on the other side of the door. Two men stood before her; the first was thin, short, and possessed third-tier strength. He was one of her lower-ranked assistants, one of the few who was assigned to stay outside her chambers during the night shift.

The other man was far larger, extremely tall with broad shoulders, his powerful frame clad in bronze armor with gently glowing runes along the joints.

“Dame Sapphire…” the Bronze Paladin growled, clearly annoyed at her attitude. “Come with me.”

His tone brokered no argument. His aura pressed down upon her, showing full well that any resistance on her part was going to be futile. She’d never beat him in a straight fight, and as the senior Paladin, he technically outranked her.

She quietly followed him, quiet as a mouse and almost as meek. If the Bronze Paladin was here instead of guarding the King, it meant nothing good for her, she knew.

They didn’t go far; Bronze led her to Octavius’ conference room where numerous others were already waiting for them, consisting of the three Legates of the Legions stationed in the city, along with a dozen other administrative Legates and a few of the handful of bureaucrats still in the palace.

“Have a seat,” Bronze said as he sat down to the right of the head of the table. “We have a serious matter to discuss.”

Sapphire did as she was bid, not saying a word, and keeping her eyes on Bronze the whole time.

Bronze was silent for a long moment, just letting his aura completely overpower everyone else’s in the room, exerting his authority by his presence alone.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally said, “King Julius has woken up.”

---

“I apologize for the abruptness of all this,” Bronze said as Leon and Minerva stared at him in abject shock. “I had a message sent to Prince August, but it clearly didn’t arrive in time to stop the advance. I had the Legions defending the city pull back, though. They’re currently staying at the Legion Headquarters and here at the palace.”

Minerva and Leon continued to stare at him for a moment longer. Minerva was the first to find her words, and she loudly said, “Hold on, hold on, hold on!”

“Dame Minerva,” Bronze intoned, his deep voice and deeper aura settling into something that felt more like appeasement than threatening as it became clear that neither Minerva nor Leon were going to fight him, “time is of the essence, here. His Majesty only awoke for a short time, but it was long enough for me and Penitent to explain how badly things have gone over the past year. He gave only one order: for everyone to stand down. I hope you comply with that order, I’d hate to have to fight Sir Leon, here. Or should I say, ‘Thunder Knight’? Maybe ‘the White Griffin’?”

“Uh… neither of those, please,” Leon murmured as the reality of what was happening started to settle in his mind. He turned around and said to the equally baffled people following them, “Looks like there’s going to be no fighting today! Hands off weapons!”

With Leon’s loud shout spurring her on, Minerva turned around to give even more specific orders, having all but a single battalion fall back to a few large squares around the far side of the bridge to wait.

“Thank you,” Bronze said as the Legions began to slowly shuffle back off the bridge, relaying what they had just heard as they went. He then turned his attention to the lake around them, where he could see Prince August’s ship making for the capitol island while the rest of the ships spread out on the lake. “Looks like Prince August received my message if he’s coming with only a single ship. How about we go and meet him, and we can talk for a while on the way?”

“That’s fine with me,” Minerva said, glancing at Leon who nodded in accordance.

“Very well!” Bronze said, his aura lightening considerably as his mood turned far more cheerful. He then started walking off toward the capitol’s docks where August would try to have his ship moored. Minerva, Leon, and their retainers closely followed.

“By the way, Sir Leon,” Bronze said as they walked, “congratulations. I sensed your power as soon as I saw you. Seventh-tier at your age? Truly, words can’t express how impressed I am at your achievement.”

“Thank you,” Leon replied.

“And who, may I ask, is that young woman riding your griffin?”

Leon smiled and said, “That’s Naiad, my lover.”

“I see…” Bronze murmured. “I suppose she’s not a threat, then? Her power does worry me a little bit.”

Leon glanced back to see Maia smirking at him as they discussed her.

“Oh, she’ll threaten you for sure if you do something to piss her off,” he said, winking at his lady as he spoke, “but she doesn’t pose much of a threat to anyone if you don’t attack her first.”

“Wasn’t going to do that,” Bronze said, chuckling. “I may be an old man, but I’m not so old that I’m ready to die!”

“Sir Bronze,” Minerva said, her tone deadly serious, “please tell us more about His Majesty. What happened with the King?”

“I can give you the broad strokes, but as I don’t want to tell this story a thousand times, I’ll not get too detailed until we meet up with Prince August,” Bronze replied. “That doctor that Prince August hired from down south, the one from the Sacred Golden Empire. Do you remember him?”

“I do.”

“He managed to get his pompous mitts on the last of the items he needed to brew a potion to assist the King with his recovery.”

“I knew he was injured and indisposed—I mean, who hasn’t at this point? —but why now?”

“Can’t speak to that,” Bronze replied in a mildly amused tone. “I can tell you, though, Penitent and I were more than a little surprised when he showed up with the potion in hand ready to heal His Majesty. Regardless of all that, it worked. The King woke from his slumber for a few minutes before returning to sleep. He should wake again soon as he begins to regain his strength, but for now, Penitent and I are doing what we can to ensure that no more citizens of the Kingdom die in this war.”

“About damned time,” Leon said, not bothering to lower his voice. “If all it took was the two of you making a move, you should’ve done so sooner.”

“I understand your anger, Sir Leon,” Bronze replied, not fazed at all by Leon’s accusatory tone. “However, legally speaking, we Paladins are not allowed to move without the King’s permission. His Majesty will be perfectly within his rights to have my colleagues who pledged themselves to the Princes sent to the headsman.”

“Hiding behind the law, huh?” Leon countered. “Prince Trajan was murdered by these people, and you could’ve stopped them.”

Bronze went quiet, but he directed a disapproving glance over his shoulder to Leon.

“I agree with Sir Leon,” Minerva quietly stated. “If His Majesty had to choose between the Kingdom as it is now after months of war or having to punish a few of his most loyal Paladins, I think I know which one he’d prefer.”

“You two don’t have to agree with my decision,” Bronze responded, his voice sounding like it was passing through clenched teeth, “but I hope you can understand why I chose to do what I did. I am a Paladin, and my first duty is to the King, not the Kingdom. I won’t raise my blade against my own countrymen unless I am fulfilling directs orders from my King.”

Everyone seemed to recognize that they were getting nowhere at this point, so they went quiet and proceeded to the dock in silence, but the heavy atmosphere of accusation remained.

For his part, Leon wasn’t too angry, but his opinion of the Bronze Paladin had diminished greatly since he had come to Trajan’s aid during the war with Talfar.

‘I guess he could choose the Kingdom over the King then, but not this time…’ he thought.

August’s ship couldn’t easily come in to the dock given its size, so rather than waiting for a solution, Leon watched as August, Roland, and a number of their subordinates climbed into rowboats and were lowered into the water. Leon could see even from hundreds of feet away the look of anxiety and desperation on the Prince’s face as he was ferried to the dock.

That look didn’t seem forced, for as soon as August climbed out of the boat and onto dry land, he almost ran to Bronze and demanded, “Where is my father?! Take me to him at once!”

“He remains in his villa, Your Highness,” Bronze said, his voice cheerful enough that it was impossible to guess the contention he’d just had with Leon and Minerva.

Without waiting for another word, August took off down the streets of the palace complex toward the villa, moving as fast as he could while still maintaining his Royal dignity.

“Sir Leon, you and I should follow His Highness,” Bronze stated. “Dame Minerva, you should take charge here and prevent any violence from breaking out. With the King awake, this war is over.”

Minerva briefly glared at Bronze, but she made no arguments, instead silently walking down the docks toward the disembarking soldiers and cutting Roland off before he could follow the Prince. Leon and Bronze, meanwhile, turned to do just that, walking after August while Alix, Valeria, Maia, and Anzu waited by the docks.

Leon had some ideas about why Bronze wanted him to follow, but if what he was saying was true and that the war was over with the King awake, he didn’t think there was much harm in seeing what was needed of him.

They walked in silence for a long time, long enough to leave just about everyone else behind. With August and his small entourage hurrying ahead of them, they were practically alone.

“You know…” Bronze hesitantly said, “you’ll probably be offered a position as a Paladin once His Majesty fully recovers.”

“Good for me, I guess,” Leon replied. He then took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to resign after this war is officially concluded. I’m not cut out to be a Legion knight, and I have other things to do than stick around. If I’m offered a position as a Paladin, then I’m going to turn it down.”

Bronze’s response was merely a quiet, “I see…”

The two proceeded onward in silence from then on, passing the checkpoint to enter the private forest where the King’s villa lay, and finally laying eyes on the villa itself. Leon had never been to the place, so its relatively small size struck him as a bit odd, but the robust defensive enchantments dispelled any doubt as to where he was—no mundane place would be so heavily fortified, especially not one that lacked outer walls and towers.

Bronze wasted no time leading the two of them inside, through the courtyard where August’s small guard detail had been left, and to the back of the building where the King’s bedroom was.

Upon entering, Leon was momentarily shocked to see the King himself, the thin, weak, unhealthy looking man laying asleep in a large bed that made him look even smaller. His aura was as weak as his body appeared, but Leon could feel a hidden power there that defied his attempts to perceive it. If he had to guess, then he’d say the King was probably eighth-tier even though by all other accounts he looked weaker than a first-tier mage.

The man next to the King’s bed likewise drew Leon’s attention, for his aura indicated he was stronger than the seventh-tier, too. However, before Leon could make any more observations about the man, he noticed that the Sapphire Paladin, Prince Octavius, and the Penitent Paladin were all waiting in the corner of the room.

Octavius looked miserable, despite being dressed in clothes fine enough to sell for a mid-sized farm in the countryside. Sapphire was equally downtrodden, her lustrous golden hair now matted down and unwashed, her face lacking any makeup, her clothes simple and unbefitting of a woman of her status under normal conditions—she looked like she was getting ready for bed, not about to present herself to the Bull King.

Penitent, meanwhile, was dressed in shabby brown robes. His aura was potent, though, even more so than Bronze’s, leaving Leon to conclude that he was probably the most powerful of the two elder Paladins.

Someone Leon almost wasn’t expecting to see was on the other side of the room—Leon recognized the bookish and scholarly looks of Prince Antonius, the Third Prince. Both of them politely nodded to each other in recognition, but neither spoke a word.

Finally, Leon’s eyes landed upon August, who was kneeling next to the bed, the King’s hand in his.

The only people in the city who Leon figured would be considered missing from this meeting were Roland and Brimstone—both of whom were still coordinating August’s occupation of the capital with Minerva.

“How long will he be awake for?” August asked the disturbingly powerful man preparing something by the King’s bedside table.

“I can’t say, could be a few minutes, could be as long as an hour,” the man replied, his tone lacking any and all respect that would normally fill someone’s voice when speaking with Royalty, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Leon noticed that no one else seemed to care, either, for no one spoke up to chastise him for his casual demeanor.

“You can’t do better than that?” August asked, to the doctor’s—Leon could think of no one else this man could be—obvious displeasure. He set aside what he was doing to look the young Prince in the eye

“August, your father has been unconscious for years. That doesn’t mean he’ll be full of energy when he wakes up. It’s going to be a few days or even weeks for him to recover enough to get out of bed, I’d say, let alone stay awake for longer than a few hours. But worry not, he’ll make a full recovery in a matter of months, I can assure you of that now that he’s managed to wake up once.”

August audibly gulped and forced himself to remain calm. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m just doing what you hired me to do,” the doctor replied as he turned his attention back to what he was doing. Only a few seconds later, though, it seemed he finished his work, as he was left with a handful of some kind of rough white-ish powder wrapped in a handkerchief. He then held the handkerchief under the King’s nose for a moment, letting the King breathe in some of the powder.

And then the King opened his eyes.

—-

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