Chapter 69: The Lionheart Guard
The Imperial Capital, Strategic Council Chamber of the Lionheart Guard.
Altlais stood at the center of the room. Before him lay a massive sand table illustrating the entire topography of the Kingdom. The region representing the Eastern Border was marked with a blood-red wooden block.
Six individuals stood in the room with him. They were the Lionheart Guard—the Emperor's sharpest and most trusted blades.
Altlais's voice resonated in the cold, cavernous space. "Report the intelligence again."
A woman named Lina stepped forward, her finger tapping the sand table. "Based on the survivors' testimony, it is confirmed that the enemy possesses high intelligence and is capable of advanced tactical coordination."
Altlais pressed further. "The critical data."
"The enemy generals. Currently, seven have been identified. Each one is assessed at Tier 5 or higher. The Hero, Leon, is confirmed killed in action. The Holy Sword has been recovered and returned to the Capital by a survivor."
Grey, a burly man with arms crossed over his chest, stared at the sand table. "Seven Tier 5s... It truly is a Calamity in every sense of the word."
Another member, Marcus, added grimly, "Seven is only the number that revealed themselves. There is no guarantee there aren't more lurking in the shadows."
Silas, who had remained silent until now, asked, "And His Majesty's orders?"
Altlais picked up the red block representing Iron Fortress. "First: Observation. Verify the accuracy of the intelligence. Assess the enemy's peak combat potential, the scale of their legion, and their ultimate objective."
Altlais looked at his team with a severe gaze. "Until we have absolute certainty, offensive maneuvers are strictly prohibited. The life of every person in this room is worth more than the ruins of Iron Fortress."
"Second: Negotiation."
As Altlais uttered that word, the air in the room seemed to stagnate. Finn, the youngest member, couldn't suppress his confusion. "Negotiation? With the undead?"
Altlais placed the red block back on the table. "It is the Emperor's will. If the enemy's strength exceeds our capacity to handle, we are authorized to open a dialogue. The Empire is prepared to temporarily concede the Eastern Border in exchange for peace... and the time needed to seek allies."
"That's practically—" Finn started to protest, but Marcus silenced him with a sharp look.
"His Majesty requires time," Altlais said, his voice brooking no argument. "Therefore, we shall provide it. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Commander!" the six replied in unison.
"Prepare for departure."
Just then, the heavy stone doors of the council chamber swung open. Princess Alice strode into the room. She wasn't wearing a royal gown, but her training gear, her golden hair tied high. Sweat still glistened on her forehead; she had clearly come straight from the training grounds.
"Master," Alice said. Her gaze swept over the members of the Lionheart Guard before settling on Altlais.
Altlais didn't turn around. "Your Highness, this is a military zone."
"I've heard the rumors. You're going to the Eastern Border. To Iron Fortress." Alice walked to the edge of the sand table, staring at the red marker. "Take me with you."
Altlais turned, his expression stern as he looked down at her. "No."
"Why?" Alice stepped forward to meet his gaze. "I am no longer the girl who needs to hide behind your capes. I am a Tier 3 Great Knight. I am more than capable of defending myself."
"It isn't enough."
"Leon was Tier 5 and he is dead," Altlais stated coldly. "With your current strength, taking you to that battlefield would be a meaningless gesture."
"Then I'll get stronger on the battlefield!" Alice's voice cracked with frustration. "Father didn't let me learn the sword so I could perform in the garden! He let me learn so I could protect this country! Now, when the nation is in peril, you expect me to stay locked in the palace?"
"There are many ways to protect a nation," Altlais said, his voice remaining a calm flatline. "Your way is to grow into a qualified heir. Not to become a liability in a battle we aren't even sure we can win."
"A liability?" The word stung Alice like a physical blow.
"Yes. A liability." Altlais did not look away. "On that field, I would not only have to face the enemy, I would have to divide my focus to ensure your safety. That distraction would kill us all. Including you."
Alice's lips trembled, but she found no words to refute him. She knew he was right.
The atmosphere in the room turned brittle. The members of the Lionheart Guard remained silent; this was a matter between the Commander and his pupil.
After a long silence, Altlais spoke again. "Until my return, your training regimen is doubled. If you cannot even complete that, you have no business stepping onto a true field of slaughter."
Altlais ignored Alice, turning back to his unit. "All units, gear up. Assemble at the North Gate in fifteen minutes."
"Understood!"
The Guard moved instantly toward their respective armor racks. The room filled with the sharp, rhythmic clatter of adjusting plate and mail. Alice stood motionless, watching them.
Altlais walked past her, pausing for a single heartbeat. "Your Highness. True strength needs no proof to anyone but yourself."
With that, Altlais strode away to don the armor that symbolized the Empire's strongest knight. Alice remained alone before the massive sand table, as still as a statue.
Fifteen minutes later.
The North Gate of the Royal City.
Seven Imperial Griffins—creatures possessing the blood of ancient mabeasts—stood ready. Altlais and the six members of the Lionheart Guard were fully clad in their enchanted plate armor, each piece shimmering with Mana, the Golden Lion crest gleaming on their chests.
Alice stood beneath the gatehouse, watching them. "Master."
Altlais reined in his mount, looking down at her from atop the massive creature.
"I'll be waiting for your return," she said.
Altlais said nothing, offering only a sharp, single nod.
"Move out!"
The griffins unfurled their massive wings, kicking up a gale of wind. They sprinted a few paces before taking to the sky, banking toward the east. Alice watched them until the seven black specks vanished into the horizon.
Then, she turned and walked back toward her training grounds. Her footsteps did not falter for a single second.
The Slums of the Imperial Capital, a filthy corner.
A figure wrapped tightly in tattered rags slowly lifted its head. Gazing in the direction where Altlais and the Lionheart Guard had disappeared, a low, guttural, and unsettling cackle escaped its throat.
A drunkard urinating against a nearby wall jumped at the sound. He squinted at the empty sky and spat. "Nothing there, you damn lunatic. What are you laughing at?"
Suddenly, a hand reached out from beneath the rags and patted the drunkard on the shoulder.
The drunkard's body stiffened. His movements froze, and his eyes went hollow.
The hooded figure turned and vanished into a side alley. The drunkard's paralysis broke; he shook his head and continued to stagger away. He didn't notice that something that didn't belong to him had taken root in his soul.
A whisper lingered in the shadows.
"Go, little lions of the Empire. Go chase the wildfires in the East."
"Leave the house... to me."
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