Meanwhile, at the rebel army's main camp.
There stood Rodele Aiwood, the Third Prince and figurehead of the rebel army, alongside Marquis Eiger, their de facto commander.
Inside the command tent, a final war council was being held before the clash.
"Now then… Your Highness Rodele. The time has finally come for you to become King!"
Marquis Eiger launched into an impassioned speech before Rodele, who sat in a chair inside the tent.
"The era of that foolish king who possesses not a shred of talent despite sharing the blood of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager, and of the false Crown Prince, ends here! Let us crush the enemy here and march straight on to the royal capital!"
"…Indeed."
Rodele answered Marquis Eiger — who spoke with a fervor bordering on madness — with dark, sunken eyes.
(If we win this battle, I will become Crown Prince. King of the Kingdom of Aiwood… just as Grandmother wished…)
His wish would come true.
His grand ambition was on the verge of being fulfilled.
And yet… for some reason, his spirits would not rise.
Ever since surviving that place… ever since escaping the Sabnock Plains, it had been like this.
(Goura… Tony…)
What floated through his mind were the faces of the two retainers who had been by his side since childhood.
Goura had been an upright man.
He was the honest type who couldn't tell a lie, useless with his head, and tried to solve everything with brute force.
Tony had been a small man.
Despite being timid, he only put on a brave front when Rodele and Goura were around, strutting about and throwing his weight around.
He was a smooth talker and skilled at flattery, a man who was strangely hard to hate.
After their deaths, Rodele felt as though a heavy stone had settled deep inside his stomach, weighing him down with a suffocating heaviness.
(Am I not the man who was chosen after all... The grandson of the great queen dowager, a genius who received an elite education from Her Majesty with the expectation that he would one day become king. The most powerful mage of all, destined to accomplish the feat of unifying not just the Kingdom of Aiwood, but the entire continent...)
Once upon a time, Rodele had been brimming with confidence in everything he did.
As though wings had sprouted from his back... he felt he could soar anywhere, without limit.
That sense of omnipotence had always filled Rodele's chest.
And yet... after losing the friends who had served as his closest retainers, he had lost all of his confidence.
Rodele had been able to remain an arrogant self-assured man precisely because he had never known failure.
Pampered and spoiled by the queen dowager, the most powerful figure in the kingdom.
Protected after her death by supporters led by Marquis Eiger.
Everyone around him was a yes-man, and no one dared to contradict Rodele.
The fact that he happened to possess magical talent had actually made things worse.
Since the king and the crown prince did not have particularly large reserves of mana, even when they tried to admonish him, Rodele dismissed it all as "the jealousy of the weak."
But... in the midst of all that, on the Sabnock Plains, he experienced a devastating defeat.
His reckless charge had cost him the trusted retainers he had relied upon.
With the loss of those two who had been his personal cheerleaders, Rodele regretted his actions for the first time, realizing he had been profoundly wrong.
(On the plains, many students lost their lives because the monsters swarmed in... because of me. Because I awakened Sabnock...!)
Until that point, Rodele had never been the kind of person who looked at those around him.
If he had been victorious against the magic beast Sabnock... or if, no matter how many people had died, he had been able to brush it off with a laugh, calling it "a necessary sacrifice."
But having been defeated, having produced no results while only piling up sacrifices... perhaps for the first time in his life, a seed of genuine guilt had taken root in his heart.
"…The enemy numbers a hundred thousand. That's more than we have. Can we really win?"
This kind of timid remark had escaped him because his confidence had been thoroughly shattered.
"Rest assured, Your Highness. It is true that we are outnumbered… but what matters in battle is the quality of soldiers. A rabble gathered in large numbers is still just a rabble."
"…I see."
"Furthermore… we have a most reassuring ally at our side!"
Marquis Eiger turned his gaze toward a figure seated in the corner of the encampment.
"…………"
The one who offered a silent bow to Rodele was a person shrouded deep within a black hood, their face completely hidden.
They sat cross-legged on a cloth spread across the ground, having made no move to join the war council, simply remaining silent all the while.
"That person has come as reinforcements from the Empire—the homeland of the secondary consort. Behind you stands not only the august authority of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager, Your Highness Rodele, but the Gaiselle Empire itself. There is no way we can lose!"
"…………"
Marquis Eiger declared this with an unsettling gleam in his eyes.
In the past, Rodele would have found those words reassuring. Now, strangely, they filled him with dread.
*This man's eyes aren't looking at me. Even though they're directed at me, the only person reflected in them is Grandmother…* He had realized that Marquis Eiger served not him, but the Queen Dowager and the Queen Dowager alone.
It wasn't just Marquis Eiger. Every person within this command tent—the nobles of the Queen Dowager's faction—they were all the same.
They were all utterly devoted to the Queen Dowager who was already dead, unable to see Rodele, unable to even see reality itself.
"Marquis, the soldiers are prepared."
"Very well, then… commence the charge!"
Without waiting for any instruction from Rodele, Marquis Eiger issued the order to send his soldiers rushing forward.
A horn blared high and clear. It was the signal announcing preparation for departure. When it sounded a second time, every soldier would charge toward the enemy.
"Come, let us march! All for Her Majesty the Queen Dowager! We shall carve a kingdom of peace and prosperity in this world — onward to the royal capital…"
Marquis Eiger had resumed his speech once more… but he cut himself off mid-sentence.
Without warning, the surroundings had gone dark.
The sun was blotted out, and a dim twilight descended, as if a total solar eclipse were taking place.
"…?"
"Hey, what's going on?!"
"I-I don't know… it suddenly got dark all around…"
Just as they were about to charge, it was like having a bucket of cold water dumped over them.
Inside and outside the command tent, cries of confusion filled the air — this was no time to be sending soldiers into a charge.
"This is bad…!"
Amid the turmoil, a figure in black robes suddenly rose to their feet.
Looking flustered, they threw back the tent flap and tried to step outside — and in the very next instant, a blinding light surged in from beyond.
"Ah…"
They didn't even have time to scream.
The magical light unleashed by the royal army swallowed Rodele and the others whole, along with the soldiers who had been standing before the command tent.