— — — — — —
The news that a Campione was coming to the Witenagemot hit like a thunderclap at midnight, scaring the higher-ups awake. A few of them even had to change their pants.
In no time, a flock of "gentlemen" abandoned their dignity and rushed straight to the Greenwich headquarters.
"Why in the world is this happening?" one councilman asked, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.
"It seems Princess Alice's clairvoyance drew his attention… and, well, that got him interested," another said uncertainly.
"My God! Why do things this terrifying always happen to us?" a lady wailed, pressing her cheeks.
"Do we know what kind of personality this King has?"
"No. Intelligence on him is sealed."
"Then contact the Copper-Black Cross and the Bronze-Black Cross. Are they trying to break the covenant?"
"To them, breaking the covenant probably feels easier than dying."
At that, a young councilor gave a dry laugh.
"Everyone's overreacting. We already survived the Black Prince, didn't we? This is just another king. Why panic?"
Every gaze in the room turned on him like he'd just announced he was made of cardboard.
"Wh-what? Did I say something wrong?" Sweat immediately broke out on his brow.
"In a sense, you're right… and also very wrong."
A calm, confident voice drifted from the chamber doors. All eyes turned to see a fair-skinned woman in a knit dress, a white coat draped over her shoulders, pants tucked into sleek black boots. She curtsied gracefully.
"Princess Alice!"
"Thank heavens you came yourself, Princess."
"The Sage Princess is here. We're safe now."
The older members let out relieved sighs.
Alice walked to the table, took her seat, and began smoothly:
"The Black Prince is a man who thrives on cunning. Brute force doesn't amuse him. Outsmarting his enemies—that's what he enjoys. That's why Paolo and I could hold him off together. It was a battle of wits more than strength."
The councilor's face drained of color. "But… if the Black Prince had used brute force?"
"Two minutes and thirty-two seconds."
Alice's voice was calm, almost casual.
"That's how long it took him to shatter the British Museum's wards—barriers laid over centuries—and loot it clean. Using that as a baseline, wiping out everyone here wouldn't take much longer."
The room sank into heavy silence.
If even a schemer like the Black Prince could do that, then whatever this new King was like… he wouldn't be any weaker.
As if that wasn't frightening enough, Alice added with deliberate nonchalance:
"By the way, the Copper-Black Cross just relayed a fresh report."
Every head swiveled toward her, eyes full of dread and curiosity.
"The new King, Ryo Yagami, fought and defeated both Verethragna—the Persian God of War—and Melqart, God King of the Mediterranean. The next day, he crossed swords with the King of Swords himself."
She paused here, her expression shifting subtly.
"The fight lasted less than three minutes. The King of Swords was left on death's door. That information comes from Sir Andrea, the King's closest aide, who secretly leaked it."
Faces turned pale.
Salvatore Doni—the King of Swords.
The first Campione of the new century, and the most belligerent. Within a single year he slew more than three rogue gods and crossed blades with all five of his peers, winning some, losing some.
Even Luo Hao, the most brutal Campione, and the ancient Marquis Voban, needed over an hour to bring him down.
Yet the new King nearly killed him in three minutes.
That kind of strength placed him above Luo Hao and Voban both.
The current Speaker, James Hack, surveyed the shaken Witenagemot and asked grimly: "So… does anyone have a plan?"
"..."
Silence was the only answer.
Hack gave Alice a pointed look. She caught it instantly, smiled lightly, and said:
"Come now, a Campione's arrival isn't necessarily bad. Maybe he just wants the intelligence we've gathered."
The councilors nearly choked. 'That's even worse!'
Their intelligence dossiers were full of things they'd rather no one ever saw, especially Campiones.
Codename assignments, analyses of personalities, even naming their Authorities. If those files leaked, the world's Campiones might just band together and run a dungeon raid on the Witenagemot—for fun.
Hack himself nearly blanched at Alice's remark, but kept a dignified front. His feet trembled under the table as he rumbled:
"Princess, the pressing matter is… who should greet this Ryo?"
"That's not hard, is it?" Alice answered with a playful smile.
"Both Copper and Bronze Black Cross already have their heiresses in his arms. All you need to do is offer him a lady knight of equal standing. Simple."
"Perhaps Miss Rowlin?"
"No, no, no! My poor child's face is covered in pox right now—what if it offended him?" the wrinkled Rowlin waved furiously.
"Mr. Karls, then?"
"You're quite right—my daughter's beauty could match a King's. Except she's six years old, Your Highness."
"…And your eldest daughter?"
"She's married."
"When did that happen?"
"Two nights ago. Some damned bartender near London Bridge."
"…."
Alice blinked, scanning the room. "Wait. All your daughters are married already?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Heads bobbed furiously. Then just as quickly: "No, no, no!"
Alice's smile froze, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Ladies, gentlemen… you actually think I'll buy that?"
Hack cleared his throat loudly.
"Princess, forgive us. But your station is far too exalted. If we sent our daughters, it might look like an insult. The only one whose rank is high enough…"
Alice's eyes widened as the realization sank in.
"…You mean me?"
"What a brilliant idea!" Hack suddenly declared with booming enthusiasm.
"To think Her Highness herself would have such noble resolve—it fills me with admiration!"
Another elder chimed in, fawning. "Your selflessness is a model for us all."
"Yes, Princess is at the perfect age—an ideal choice."
Smiling sweetly, Alice let her gaze linger on each councilor bold enough to open their mouth.
Her eyes clearly said: 'I'll remember every single one of you…'
At that exact moment, news arrived: Ryo had checked into the London Grand Hotel, adjusting to the time zone.
.
.
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