"Your Majesty!" "Father!"
Seeing the king booted off the throne, Marquis Raeven and the second prince cried out together—yet no one dared step forward. Not just them; the ministers were scared out of their wits, bowing their heads, not daring to look.
Albedo didn't spare the king she'd kicked a single glance. She turned with elegant poise toward Rei Ao, dropped to one knee, right hand to her breast, and said with utmost devotion and respect:
"Rei Ao-sama, though this mundane throne is crude, it barely befits your station. I beg you to condescend to sit."
Rei Ao's expression hadn't shifted in the slightest from start to finish. It was as if everything before him—the guards' deaths, the king being kicked down, Albedo's actions—were lines in a script long since set. Not even his gaze wavered.
Under the slight bows of Albedo and Shalltear, and the terrified stares of the entire court, Rei Ao mounted the dais with unhurried steps, as if walking his own domain. He turned and, as naturally as breathing, sat upon the throne that symbolized the Re-Estize Kingdom's highest power.
The instant he sat, a heavier, suffocating pressure rolled outward from him like a tide. Even the air in the throne room seemed to congeal. Beneath Rei Ao, the seat that had belonged to Ramposa III seemed to have finally found its rightful master, radiating a cold authority none dared meet head-on.
Gazef dropped to his knees before he knew it, bowing his head low, a chill spreading through his chest. He knew that from this moment, the Re-Estize Kingdom might as well have changed hands. At least within this hall, the true sovereign had arrived.
Albedo stood at one side of the throne like the most loyal of guardians. Shalltear stood at the other, studying the trembling ants below with idle interest.
Rei Ao's calm gaze passed over the king sprawled on the floor, then over the frightened prince and ministers. "Now, we can talk." His voice was as flat as ever, yet it rolled through the silent hall like final judgment.
He sat straight-backed yet at ease, as if the symbol of another nation's sovereignty were only a somewhat comfortable chair. His fingers tapped the gilded armrest—tick, tick—a steady, soft rhythm that echoed through the dead-quiet hall like knocks on each person's heart, filling them with an indescribable pressure.
His eyes drifted over the scene below: King Ramposa III, face twisted by pain and humiliation as he struggled to rise; Prince Barbro, slumped in his seat, trousers wet, shaking like a leaf; and Marquis Raeven, white as a sheet yet forcing himself to stand, knuckles blanching on his sword hilt.
Without preface, Rei Ao spoke. "From this moment, the Re-Estize Kingdom will belong to me." His tone was level, emotionless—yet the words detonated like thunder in the ears of those whose spirits were already frayed.
"W-what?!" Ramposa III jerked his head up, forgetting his pain for a heartbeat, his face burning with incredulous rage and humiliation. "Impossible! I am the sovereign of a nation—how could I… how could I hand over my forebears' legacy to… to…" He couldn't bring himself to say "an unknown interloper," but his vehement refusal was plain.
"Presumptuous!" Despite his fear, the pride of the realm and loyalty to the crown drove Marquis Raeven to bark, "The Kingdom's sovereignty is not yours to covet! However great your power, it's delusion to think we will bow!"
Even the nearly pants-wetting second prince, Barbro, shrieked like a cat with its tail stepped on: "Y-yes! Yes! The Kingdom is ours! You… you bandit! Demon!"
Their reaction was fierce, but unsurprising. Centuries of royal legacy, the dignity of the bloodline, a king's pride—how could such things be yielded at a word? Even before incomprehensible power, the instinct to resist, engraved in bone, drove them on—however pale and laughable it looked against absolute might.
Rei Ao didn't so much as lift an eyelid at the outcries. To him, their roars were only mosquitoes buzzing at his ear. His gaze passed over the agitated, fearful faces and settled again on Gazef, still kneeling in silence.
"Warrior Captain, Gazef Stronoff," Rei Ao said, his tone unreadable. "What do you think?"
In an instant, every gaze converged on Gazef—the king's, heavy with anxious hope; Raeven's, taut and measuring; Barbro's, a muddle of fear and a strange flicker of expectation. He was the Kingdom's strongest warrior, the king's most trusted vassal; in this moment, his stance seemed to carry decisive weight.
Gazef's body jolted with a hard tremor. He raised his head slowly, his face riven with struggle and pain. Better than anyone present, he knew what sat upon the throne and what stood at its sides—a power beyond mortal imagining, a calamity that could erase the Kingdom with ease. Reason screamed that resistance meant only death—not just for him, but for the realm.
…But—
He saw the last, fragile spark of hope in his king's eyes; saw Raeven holding himself straight despite his fear. He remembered the oaths he'd sworn, climbing from common birth to Warrior Captain; his loyalty to the king, his duty to the realm. A grave, tragic resolve welled up in him. He knew this choice might bring ruin. But he could not betray his beliefs, nor abandon his liege before the enemy.
Drawing a deep breath, Gazef surged to his feet. He snatched up Razor Edge from where it was planted in the floor.
Boom— The heavy national-treasure blade thrummed in his hands. He stepped forward, putting his broad back in front of King Ramposa, who was still struggling to rise. Both hands locked on the hilt, the point angled toward the floor—every line of him the resolve of a guardian.
He lifted his head and met Rei Ao's eyes. His voice came out ragged and weighty with resolve. "Rei Ao-sama… your power is godlike. I feel profound awe—and fear."
He acknowledged the truth first, then turned, stubborn and loyal as any warrior. "But I, Gazef Stronoff, am the Warrior Captain of the Re-Estize Kingdom! My sword is drawn only to protect His Majesty and this land. Forgive me… but I cannot obey your will."