At the very last second, Camilla snatched victory from the edge of death.
But none of it had been by chance.
It was the only path she could see in the midst of utter desperation.
She hadn't even known if her guardian beast would still activate after being forcibly taken. She couldn't be sure it would still protect her—or even retain its original instincts.
But she understood one thing: only by pushing herself to the absolute brink— only by cornering herself so thoroughly that she stood at the edge of collapse— could she awaken her guardian beast's final resolve.
And only when Benjamin was certain of his triumph—when his guard finally dropped—would her gamble have any chance of success.
That was Camilla's one and only opportunity.
And she took it.
Now, she stood alone as the last surviving royal heir.
Camilla had become the successor to the throne of the Kakin Empire.
It was a result no one had predicted.
But it had become reality.
Even so, the war for succession was not over.
With the heir decided, the true cleansing of Benjamin's loyalists...was only just beginning.
Those who had bet on both sides were spared.
Those who hadn't offended Camilla too deeply were also safe.
But for the loyalists of Benjamin—those who had dealt ruthless blows to Camilla's faction—there was no road left for them.
No mercy. No future.
Yet now, their lives were irrelevant.
At the royal banquet on the eve of King Nasubi's ship, the BW1, reaching the shore, Camilla was officially declared as his successor.
In that moment, she became the center of the entire BW1.
It was the moment of Camilla's greatest joy—her deepest satisfaction. She had finally claimed her position as the sole heir, eliminating every obstacle she deemed unworthy.
In her mind, the new era had already begun.
She saw herself as queen—ruling the old continent, conquering the new.
Camilla would have everything.
King Nasubi smiled silently, watching the moment unfold. He took another sip of wine—like he was drinking the blood of all who had perished over the past two months.
—
On the stone steps, Germain and his group were intercepted— Four Guardian Beasts, each strengthened and twisted by resentments and curses, stood in their path.
They positioned themselves at four corners, surrounding the team in a deadly square.
Chairman Netero stood tall and still, like a stone Buddha. His eyes were sharp. His voice was firm.
"Germain, come with me. We're going up. The rest of you—stay and handle them."
Ging, Bisky, Botobai, Kanzai, Mizaistom, and Ginta exchanged quick glances. As if they had expected this all along, they nodded without hesitation.
In a flash, the six of them launched themselves toward the four beasts— clearing a wide path on the stairway.
Germain and Netero met eyes. Then they raced upward—toward the final, most dangerous stretch.
Camilla, seated high upon her throne of thorns, was just ahead.
She didn't even lift her head.
Still, she held the Seed Urn of curses in her hands, as though unaware of their approach.
But the strange fairy-like girl beside her was watching with intense curiosity— As if eager to see how far they could go.
Suddenly, the dark clouds above the thorned throne split again.
A thick mass of black fog poured downward— even denser than before— and crashed violently onto the path ahead of Netero and Germain.
The stone steps cracked and crumbled.
Shards of rock exploded in all directions.
Out from the chaos, a beast emerged— One with nen so powerful, it could rival a champion.
It stood tall, proud, and unleashed a piercing shriek toward them.
"SKREEEEEE—!"
"Shriek—"
Germain and Netero both held their stances, unwavering in the face of the ear-piercing scream.
Before them stood a colossal champion-class monster, blocking their path with ten spider-like legs.
It bore twenty-four plump sacs, much like the guardian beast Camilla possessed.
Between these sacs, there was a head resembling a melon stem.
"This monster, which won alongside the previous king in the last succession battle, has now merged with him."
"Like the God king Kronos, it devoured most of its offspring, leaving only the next successor—but its intentions are clearly different…"
From the mouth that split downward beneath the small central head, a wet human head was expelled. It turned slowly, locking eyes directly with them.
Netero quickly recognized it.
"Nasubi…"
Nasubi—no longer fully human nor ghost—his slightly plump face squeezed into the monster's mouth, grinning slyly at Germain and Netero.
At that moment, the twenty-three full sacs burst simultaneously, spewing out a thick, foul-smelling liquid.
Twisted human faces appeared between the "petals," each contorted in excruciating pain.
Only one sac remained intact, from which a small trickle of juice oozed from its tip.
After winning the last succession battle, Nasubi's guardian beast had told him he was destined to have twenty-five biological children.
One would become his successor, while the other twenty-four would forever merge with him and his guardian beast.
But the truth was that Nasubi, to this day, had only twenty-four offspring—twelve princes and twelve bastards.
The third prince, Zhang Lei, was naturally not among them. He wasn't Nasubi's child but the offspring of "the adulterer" Onior.
This meant Nasubi should have had another child—most likely the one growing inside Queen Oito.
Unfortunately, time was tight. Queen Oito was not yet pregnant and could not bear Nasubi's fourteenth prince.
At this very moment, from the twenty-three mature seed pods burst twenty-three twisted, agonized faces full of pain and hatred.
Removing Camilla and Zhang Lei, the faces of the eleven princes remained, all accounted for—from the eldest, Prince Benjamin, down to the thirteenth prince, the "child" Marayam.
Among the illegitimate offspring were mostly unfamiliar faces. Only Morena, marked as "second line," was immediately recognized by Germain.
The twenty-three faces writhed, struggling to break free from Nasubi's spider-like body, but all efforts were in vain.
Then, one face suddenly flashed with murderous rage, roaring at Germain: "You! It's you! It's you!"
Germain turned to meet the familiar yet strange face of the fourth prince, Tserriednich.
He bellowed with anger, trying desperately to lunge at Germain, but no matter how much he pulled and struggled, he was trapped—reduced to killing Germain with his eyes alone.
*******
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