Caesar issued his command.
“Recruit useful talent from the Re-Estize Kingdom.”
The order was brief.
Yet within it lay the opening sentence for the destabilization of an entire nation.
Griel bowed his head.
“As you command.”
That night.
Sector 10 of the Thousand Kingdom.
Alexandria.
In the gargantuan library where endless records and information lay dormant, a list of the Re-Estize Kingdom’s nobility began to be compiled.
Bloodline.
Territory.
Wealth.
Title.
Political leanings.
Distance from the Royalist Faction.
Distance from the Noble Faction.
Susceptibility to corruption.
Ambition.
Inferiority complex.
Dissatisfaction.
Likelihood of cooperation.
Probability of betrayal.
Humans believe themselves to be free.
However, within the records of Alexandria, a human is first decomposed into data points.
Who desires what?
Who is ashamed of what?
Who hates whom?
Who is dissatisfied with their current station?
Power enters through those cracks.
Countless names flickered across Ea’s analytical screen before vanishing.
The high nobility were dangerous.
They already possessed too much.
The core figures of the Royalist Faction were dull.
Their loyalty and inertia outweighed their ambition.
The elderly bureaucrats were usable, but they were too slow to build a new order.
Then, a single name halted in the center of the screen.
Terriuss Assis.
Baronet of the Re-Estize Kingdom.
Strong dissatisfaction with his low rank.
High desire for social advancement.
Resentment toward the established order.
Access to political intelligence in the capital.
Antipathy toward the high nobility.
High probability of providing information.
High probability of betrayal.
High suitability for recruitment.
Griel stared at the name.
And he smiled.
A grand ideology is not always necessary to move a human.
Sometimes, an inferiority complex is stronger than conviction.
The desire for recognition is faster than justice.
And cheaper than loyalty is the rage of a man who believes his rightful place has been stolen from him.
“Excellent.”
Griel slowly pushed up his glasses.
“You were already standing before the door. You were simply waiting for someone to open it.”
A few days later.
A provincial manor in the Re-Estize Kingdom.
Terriuss Assis sat alone in his dark study.
His desk was cluttered with letters from kingdom nobles, tax ledgers, and reports on the political landscape of the capital.
The candle flame flickered low.
Outside the window, it was pitch black.
The study was thick with the scent of old wood and ink.
Terriuss was tapping his fingers on the desk.
Slowly.
Unpleasantly.
Anxiously.
Baronet.
That title was far too low for him.
Or so he believed.
Men more incompetent than him sat in higher positions.
Men more foolish than him debated the kingdom's politics.
Those with nothing but good bloodlines spoke in the council chambers.
Those who gained territories through nothing but an old family name looked down on him.
The Royalists were incompetent.
The Noble Faction was arrogant.
The kingdom was rotting.
But within that rotting kingdom, the share allotted to him was far too small.
Suddenly.
The candle flame wavered.
The door had not opened.
The window remained shut.
Yet, someone was in the room.
Dressed in black and blue scholarly robes.
Wearing glasses.
Holding a bizarre sword resembling a Chiljido.
A quiet smile.
Griel stood within Terriuss Assis’s study.
Terriuss bolted upright from his chair.
“Who are you?!”
Griel was unfazed.
He slowly scanned the bookshelves, the ledgers, and the family crests hanging on the wall.
Then, he pushed up his glasses.
“I have come to meet a man trapped in a position that does not suit him.”
The air in the study grew cold and heavy.
Terriuss’s eyes wavered.
That sentence was not a threat.
Yet it cut deeper than any threat could.
Standing in the center of the study, Griel spoke.
“Have you no desire to become the Chancellor of the Kingdom?”
A moment of silence followed.
Terriuss stared at Griel.
Then, he let out a hollow laugh.
“What nonsense is this?”
He bared his teeth in a grin.
“Chancellor of the Kingdom? Me? A mere Baronet?”
Griel did not answer.
There was no need for verbal persuasion.
People are not moved by logic alone.
A person moves fastest when the reality they wish to see manifests before their eyes.
At that moment.
The atmosphere in the study shifted.
Information began to flow into Terriuss Assis’s mind.
A gargantuan fortress made of pure gold and jasper.
A celestial city floating above the clouds.
The Throne of Heaven.
The twelve sectors of the Thousand Kingdom.
An infinitely mass-produced army of automatons.
Angels.
Nephilim.
Golems.
Dimensional ships.
Sector Chiefs.
Alexandria.
The super-intelligent AI, Ea.
And.
The Celestial Emperor, Caesar.
The information was not merely seen.
It was not an illusion.
It was etched into Terriuss’s very perception.
He saw the Thousand Kingdom.
And he came to believe in the Thousand Kingdom.
His free will remained untouched.
His power of choice was preserved.
However, the premises of the reality he judged were adjusted.
The Thousand Kingdom is real.
Caesar is absolute.
The Re-Estize Kingdom is obsolete.
The existing noble order can be dismantled.
And an opportunity has come to him.
Griel did not forcibly break the human mind.
There was no need.
A person already has a door within them.
Griel simply showed him which way that door opened.
Terriuss’s hands began to tremble.
He could not bring himself to sit back down.
His lips were dry.
His gaze was unsteady.
But within that instability was more than just fear.
Greed.
Anticipation.
Ambition.
The sweet premonition that he might finally obtain his proper place.
Griel asked quietly.
“Will you cooperate?”
Terriuss swallowed hard.
Then, he asked in a low voice.
“……What must I do?”
The moment those words left his lips.
Ea’s records were updated.
Terriuss Assis.
Recruitment complete.
Cooperation level.
Rising.
Probability of betrayal.
Maintained.
Utility value.
High.
Internal destabilization of the Kingdom: Possible.
Operation Commencement.
Phase 1.
The Capital of the Re-Estize Kingdom.
As night descended.
A hidden summoning scroll was activated beneath a central plaza in the capital.
At first, no one noticed.
Street vendors were closing up shop.
Citizens were heading home.
The taverns were filled with late-night clamor.
The palace guard was patrolling as usual.
Then.
The stone floor in the center of the plaza cracked.
A black magic circle tore through the ground and surged upward.
As if the night buried beneath the earth had exploded all at once, black light engulfed the plaza.
From within, something manifested.
A Level 84 High Demon.
A being far beyond the Kingdom’s capacity to handle.
When the demon first roared, the entire capital shook.
Windows shattered.
Horses went wild with terror.
Children wept.
Buildings collapsed.
The private soldiers of the nearest noble houses were torn apart in an instant.
The citizens of the capital fled, screaming.
The palace guard was deployed.
However, their lines collapsed with a single gesture from the demon.
Shields shattered.
Spears snapped.
Human bodies were flung into the air.
The capital fell into chaos.
Fear spread rapidly.
Fear is faster than fire.
Fire burns the streets, but fear burns a person’s judgment.
Phase 2.
While the demon rampaged in the heart of the capital.
The Thousand Kingdom’s automaton doppelgangers moved.
They had already identified the primary strongholds of the Eight Fingers.
Ledger archives.
Executive meeting places.
Secret warehouses.
Slave markets.
Drug distribution routes.
Assassination brokerages.
Secret passages for noble patrons.
Back-alley gambling dens.
Money laundering hubs disguised as merchant guilds.
The darkness of the Kingdom had been rotting for a long time.
The Thousand Kingdom did not move to eliminate that darkness.
First, they dissected it.
They recorded it.
They categorized it.
And at the most opportune moment, they began to extract it.
The doppelgangers disguised themselves as Eight Fingers members and infiltrated the organization.
They mimicked speech patterns perfectly.
They mimicked habits.
They mimicked gaits.
They used secret codes.
Some eliminated executives.
Some extracted documents.
Some made members believe they had been betrayed by their own.
“That man sold the ledgers.”
“The list of noble patrons has been leaked.”
“One of the executives has sided with the palace.”
“No, it’s the Adventurer’s Guild.”
False information spread.
Suspicion spread.
Blades moved first.
Eight Fingers was not attacked from the outside.
They began to tear each other apart from within.
Drug networks.
Slave trade networks.
Assassination networks.
Illegal gambling networks.
The list of noble supporters.
The roots that sustained the Kingdom’s darkness were being pulled out one by one.
Phase 3.
The entire capital’s attention was fixed on the demon.
People saw the demon’s sky-rending roar.
They saw burning manors.
They saw fleeing nobles.
They saw collapsing soldiers.
They saw wailing citizens.
No one realized that the Eight Fingers’ organizational network was simultaneously collapsing in the capital’s underground and back alleys.
Executives of Eight Fingers vanished one by one.
Ledgers were seized.
Secret warehouses were sealed.
Vaults were opened.
Evidence was transferred to the Thousand Kingdom.
Communication lines were severed.
Subordinate organizations received conflicting orders.
The chaos in the capital completely masked the operation to dismantle Eight Fingers.
Fear was the curtain.
The demon was the stage.
And behind that stage, the Thousand Kingdom was taking possession of the Kingdom’s darkness.
Phase 4.
Just as the demon was about to advance toward the royal palace.
The sky split open.
A black rift opened in the air above the capital.
People stopped in their flight to look at the sky.
Nobles raised their heads from within their ruined manors.
The palace soldiers also halted their movements.
A being descended from within the black rift.
A black robe.
Crimson eyes.
In his hand, the dimensional sword Ashkal.
The Celestial Emperor, Caesar.
He descended upon the capital.
At that moment, the people did not know his name.
However, there are things that arrive before a name.
Majesty.
Dread.
Divinity.
An overwhelming power struck their hearts before human language could.
Caesar landed before the demon.
The Level 84 demon roared and charged.
It was a catastrophe that the Kingdom's soldiers could never hope to face.
But to Caesar, it was no catastrophe.
It was a performance.
Caesar swung Ashkal once.
The strike was silent.
But the result was anything but.
The magical barrier surrounding the demon’s body was shredded.
Space itself was severed.
A massive wound opened across the demon’s chest.
Black blood scattered into the air.
The demon shrieked and recoiled.
The entire capital fell into silence.
Caesar raised his sword once more.
The demon could fight no longer.
It fled.
It threw itself back into the black rift.
And then, it vanished.
A profound stillness settled over the capital.
The fires were not yet extinguished.
Dust rose from the collapsed buildings.
The groans of the injured could be heard.
But the people could not move.
Because Caesar stood there.
The being who had repelled the demon that was tearing the capital apart just moments ago with a single strike.
The mysterious transcendent.
The savior in black robes.
The capital bore witness to him.
And at that moment.
The Thousand Kingdom entered the memory of the capital.
Phase 5.
Immediately after the demon’s retreat.
A portion of the Thousand Kingdom’s military appeared on the outskirts of the capital.
They intentionally displayed only a fraction of their power.
Ten thousand automaton troops, all below Level 30.
Soldiers clad in silver armor lined up in unison.
It was a formation without a single flaw.
The sound of their boots was as one.
The angle of their spears was as one.
Even the fluttering of their banners seemed calculated.
The Kingdom’s soldiers gasped at the sight.
The nobles watched that number and order from atop the city walls.
Citizens witnessed the army as they passed through the charred streets.
The Thousand Kingdom had not yet revealed its true forces.
Not the dimensional ships.
Not the Nephilim.
Not the Azrael Angel Legions.
Not the high-level golems.
Not the monster divisions.
Not the Sector Chiefs.
They showed nothing of that.
They showed only a fragment.
Yet to the Kingdom, even that fragment was sufficiently overwhelming.
Rumors began to spread.
A mysterious god defeated the demon.
That god wore black robes.
That god possessed crimson eyes.
That god commanded an army.
That god’s army looked like men, but were not men.
The people of the capital did not know the truth.
But in the absence of truth, rumors claim the throne of reality for themselves.
And that was exactly what the Thousand Kingdom wanted.
The Royal Palace of the Re-Estize Kingdom.
The Grand Council Chamber.
Ramposa III, the high ministers of the Kingdom, and representatives of both the Noble and Royalist Factions gathered in one place.
Before them stood the Celestial Emperor, Caesar, draped in his black robes.
The air in the chamber was heavy.
The Level 84 demon that had appeared in the capital.
The being who had repelled that demon with a single strike.
And the army of ten thousand automatons arrayed outside the capital.
All of it was like an invisible hand tightening around the throats of those in the room.
A treaty was unfurled.
Treaty for the Establishment of Diplomatic Relations between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Thousand Kingdom
1. The Re-Estize Kingdom officially recognizes the existence and sovereignty of the Thousand Kingdom.
2. The Thousand Kingdom shall provide military support to the Re-Estize Kingdom, provided the Re-Estize Kingdom does not violate the principles of good faith.
3. The Thousand Kingdom shall dispatch a Level 22 Automaton Commissioner to the Re-Estize Kingdom.
---
Ramposa III stared at the treaty.
A kingdom that appeared on no map.
A power that existed in no diplomatic record.
A gargantuan fortress and army that had suddenly descended from the heavens.
There was suspicion.
Of course there was.
But the capital had just suffered a demonic assault.
The Kingdom’s army had failed to respond effectively.
In the chaos, the nobles had prioritized their own manors and private soldiers.
The palace guard had collapsed.
The citizens had fled.
In contrast, the Thousand Kingdom had defeated the demon.
And they had shown their army.
A single thought took root in Ramposa III’s mind.
If I can use this army to control the Noble Faction...
It was a dangerous thought.
But kings often cling to dangerous thoughts as if they were salvation.
The royal authority was aged.
The Noble Faction was strong.
The Kingdom was rotting from within.
Ramposa III knew this.
And now, an external power stood before the palace.
Alien.
Dangerous.
And overwhelming.
Caesar spoke quietly.
“Your Majesty, Ramposa III.”
His voice was low.
Yet the entire chamber heard it clearly.
“Should diplomatic relations be established, I hope for the continued friendship between our two nations.”
The nobles in the chamber exchanged glances.
The Royalist ministers remained silent.
A few members of the Noble Faction could not hide their displeasure.
To them, this treaty was not salvation.
It was the intervention of an outside force.
However, no one dared to openly object.
Because the being who had just saved the capital stood right before them.
Ramposa III slowly picked up the quill.
His hand paused for a moment.
In that brief hesitation lay the Kingdom’s uncertainty.
But the hesitation did not last long.
The quill descended.
Ramposa III signed the treaty.
The Re-Estize Kingdom officially recognized the Thousand Kingdom.
At that moment.
The Thousand Kingdom transitioned from a power absent from the maps to a nation existing upon a treaty.
Power created fear.
Fear created a meeting.
The meeting created a signature.
The signature created existence.
Outside the palace.
Before the main gates, the Thousand Kingdom’s Level 22 Automaton Commissioners waited in orderly ranks.
Their armor was engraved with the crest of the Thousand Kingdom.
It was still a low-level force.
But as a symbol, it was more than enough.
What had entered the palace was not just an army.
It was the crest of the Thousand Kingdom.
And a crest sometimes lasts longer than an army.
Terriuss Assis, recommended by the Thousand Kingdom, became the Acting Commissioner for the Re-Estize Kingdom.
The title was not insignificant.
However, in the eyes of the Kingdom’s nobles, it was an ominous position.
A man who served as the bridge between the Thousand Kingdom’s Commissioner and the Kingdom’s government.
A man of the Kingdom, yet close to the Thousand Kingdom.
A man who was a mere Baronet but had suddenly entered the heart of the capital’s politics.
Terriuss was no longer the same man as before.
No.
He had always been this kind of man.
He simply now had a patron to facilitate his ambition.
He began to move immediately.
Those who did not fully belong to the Noble Faction.
Those who were not accepted by the Royalists.
Those with low titles but grand ambitions.
Those with talent but pushed aside due to bloodline.
Those with a family name but no power.
Those with money but lacking honor.
Those who hated both the incompetence of the Royalists and the arrogance of the Noble Faction.
Terriuss gathered them together.
They called themselves the Reformists.
They spoke of fixing the obsolete Kingdom.
They spoke of correcting the corrupt noble order.
They spoke of rebuilding royal authority and administration.
However, the people of the capital called them something else.
The Young Guard.
At first, the name was a light mockery.
Young nobles.
Hasty men.
Those who did not know their place.
Those with low ranks dreaming high dreams.
But as time passed, the name became one of anxiety.
The Young Guard frequently contacted the Thousand Kingdom’s Commissioner.
Manors near the palace.
Merchant guild halls.
Diplomatic reception rooms.
Hunting grounds of noble houses.
Night salons.
Unofficial meetings continued.
Voices were low.
Wine glasses clinked quietly.
Documents were exchanged secretly.
And simultaneously, arms dealers began to move.
Swords.
Spears.
Crossbows.
Armor.
Provisions.
Horses.
Shields.
Medical supplies.
Retired adventurers were also hired.
Some mercenaries were incorporated into the private guards of the Young Guard nobles.
The surface justification was the strengthening of public security.
After the demon incident in the capital, it was not unusual for nobles to increase their forces to protect their territories and manors.
No one could call it strange.
Fear justifies armament.
Crisis justifies private soldiers.
Chaos becomes the best excuse for those who desire a new order.
But in reality, the Young Guard was undergoing its own independent militarization.
Princess Lana also made quiet contact.
On the surface, she remained the princess worried about the Kingdom’s stability.
A fragile smile.
Gentle speech.
A face concerned for the people.
The princess who worried for the Kingdom’s future.
However, after a secret conversation with Terriuss Assis, certain palace intelligence began to flow toward the Young Guard.
Who said what in which meeting.
Which noble viewed the Thousand Kingdom with displeasure.
Which minister was trying to persuade Ramposa III.
Which private army could enter the capital.
Palace information flowed like water.
And information does not always flow to the lowest point.
It flows to where it is needed.
The Noble Faction felt the crisis.
To them, this was the collapse of the traditional order.
Young nobles of low rank, backed by the halo of the Thousand Kingdom, were threatening the established high nobility.
The Royalists also felt the crisis.
To them, this was not the restoration of royal authority.
It was the external subordination of the Kingdom’s prestige.
Terriuss Assis, connected to the Thousand Kingdom’s Commissioner, was entering the heart of the Kingdom’s administration.
The King sought to suppress the Noble Faction with an external power.
The Noble Faction saw that external power as a betrayal by the crown.
The Young Guard saw the rift as an opportunity.
Capital politics split into three directions.
Royalists.
Noble Faction.
Young Guard.
And above them all.
The Commissioner of the Thousand Kingdom.
Now, the politics of the Re-Estize Kingdom were no longer an internal matter.
The palace council chambers.
The reception rooms of noble manors.
The back rooms of merchant guilds.
The armories of the barracks.
The rumors in the taverns.
In all those places, the shadow of the Thousand Kingdom began to descend.
The people did not yet know.
They thought the demon’s attack had ended.
They thought the capital had been saved.
They thought that since Eight Fingers had collapsed, the Kingdom’s darkness had cleared somewhat.
But the real events were only just beginning.
The Thousand Kingdom had not simply defeated a demon.
They had used the demon as a crest.
They had not simply dismantled Eight Fingers.
They had collected the Kingdom’s darkness as evidence.
They had not simply established diplomatic relations.
They had legally entered the internal politics of the Kingdom.
Griel smiled as he looked at the reports in Alexandria.
The Kingdom still believed it had made its own choices.
Ramposa III believed he had signed the treaty.
Terriuss believed he had seized an opportunity.
The Young Guard believed they were the agents of reform.
Lana believed she was reading the board.
The Noble Faction believed they could still counterattack.
But Griel knew.
The choices had already been arranged.
A person loves the path they chose for themselves most of all.
Therefore, the most perfect dominion is not a command.
It is making the opponent believe they chose it themselves.
A new sentence appeared on Ea’s screen.
Internal division of the Re-Estize Kingdom intensifying.
Structure of conflict established: Royalists, Noble Faction, Young Guard.
Influence of the Thousand Kingdom’s Commissioner expanding.
Terriuss Assis utilization phase entered.
Preparation for next operation: Possible.
Griel pushed up his glasses.
A blue light flickered across the lenses.
“Good,” he murmured softly.
“The Kingdom has now begun its own preparation to collapse.”
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