Gramps’ End
Defeat. The old man, known only as "Gramps," thought.
He was Gilbert’s butler. From the moment he was born, he had been by Gilbert’s side.
In the era of the previous king, he had been appointed commander of the Royal Knights, a hero who had defended Arland from the Empire even as rot spread within the kingdom.
“I simply wanted to protect the royal family.”
That was the only thought Gramps had.
His first battle had been the final battlefield of Cynthiana. All he did was swing his spear on the front lines. His spear-handling skills, praised as genius since childhood, were meaningless in that hellish battlefield.
Even when the front collapsed due to betrayal by nobles, he remained at the front lines.
Then came the decapitation mission led by Cynthiana and her death squad. A charge that pierced through the Imperial army, which was crashing in like an avalanche, and took the Emperor’s head. Gramps was part of that operation.
Officially, there were no survivors. But even among the death squad, some had lived. When Cynthiana sliced off the Emperor’s head with a hand blade, chaos erupted in the Imperial forces, and they immediately began to retreat. The young men at the time, including Gramps, were knocked unconscious by their seniors on the battlefield.
“Dying is our job. You protect the kingdom from here on.”
That was what the unit captain Gramps respected most had said before punching him and rendering him unconscious. Amid the chaos, no one had time to finish off fallen Arland soldiers. All the more so in defeat.
As a result, Gramps survived.
Afterward, he continued to distinguish himself in the Royal Army, eventually becoming commander of the Knights. But he had no talent for politics. Furthermore, the previous king was weak in body, and border skirmishes with the Empire continued. Gramps had to fight fiercely on the frontiers to show that Arland had no openings.
Thanks to his efforts and the Empire’s fear of Cynthiana, a full-scale invasion never came.
When the previous king died in a duel with Draconia, Gramps retired from the military.
He only wanted to protect the royal family. That was his sole thought. With the strongest, Draconia, now present, he deemed himself no longer necessary.
After that, Gramps fell into ruin. He drowned in alcohol, living a life dreaming of past glories. But that changed with the news of Gilbert’s birth.
Gramps had no intention of swearing loyalty to Draconia. Draconia had been the one to decisively cause the previous king’s death. No matter how much others called the previous king incompetent, Gramps had cherished him—as the child of Cynthiana.
However, Gilbert carried the blood of the beloved Cynthiana. Then he, too, could serve the royal family once more.
He had been a hero. But he cast away his name and became “Gramps”, Gilbert’s butler. As a knight, he couldn’t protect him up close.
And so, Gramps gave Gilbert a gifted education. He was a little hurt that Gilbert had more talent with the sword than the spear, but since Gramps could use a sword too, it wasn’t a problem.
Indeed, Gilbert was a genius—but not one who could reach the pinnacle of heroism. Gramps didn’t lament that. Instead, Gilbert became a politician the likes of which the royal family had never seen before. A politician born from Arland’s most muscle-brained bloodline. It had simply surprised him.
Gilbert was someone he could swear loyalty to. Gramps was content.
When Alicetia was born, Gramps saw the image of Cynthiana in her. But Alicetia didn’t choose him, and Gramps, who had already sworn his loyalty, saw her only as a royal he ought to protect. His loyalty belonged to Gilbert. Of course, if Alicetia faced danger before his eyes, he would gladly risk his life to protect her.
And Alicetia, too, came to be recognized by the kingdom’s nobles for her talents. She had no political aptitude at all, but her intellect was extraordinary.
“How did a brainiac like her even come from the royal bloodline?”
That was basically how he evaluated her. It was cruel, but the Arland royal family had always valued strength over noble blood.
Even so, Gramps didn’t mind. The Arland royal family was unlike any other. They didn’t need a king who merely reigned. They had to walk with the people, risk their lives for the people. But the price of that was the present situation.
One after another, those of royal blood fell on the battlefield. Now, including one yet to be born, only three royal heirs remained. Just three. The ducal lines had long died out. Even noble houses bearing royal blood no longer remained. All had perished with pride in their duty.
That’s why the knights’ loyalty was so intense. They didn’t want the royal family to shed any more blood. They fought with that in their hearts—and still lost.
Draconia fell. Even Gilbert, whom he was meant to protect, fell. Gramps was ashamed.
(I couldn’t even protect the royal I was supposed to!)
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His expression burned with fury.
His body was already in tatters. And still he lived. Then why—why had he failed to protect them?
“Retreat! Get to the fortress! No matter what, we must get His Majesty and His Highness to safety!”
The old man ran across the plains, carrying Gilbert on his back.
The Arland army no longer had the strength for organized resistance. If Alicetia hadn’t pierced a hole through the Imperial army at that moment—if they hadn’t had her talisman—everything they had fought for until now would have been for nothing.
But thanks to Alicetia’s miracle, Draconia and Gilbert were brought back to life. In that case, they had to be delivered to the fortress at all costs.
However, if they simply retreated into the fortress, the Imperial army would come flooding in right after them. That was because the barrier would have to be temporarily lifted.
At that moment, the soldiers of the Arland army steeled themselves. At the same time, the fortress gates opened and soldiers rushed out toward them.
“Take care of His Highness.”
The old man entrusted Gilbert to a young knight running alongside him.
“Sir Kirkton!”
“That name is no more. I’ll stop the Imperial army. Your death comes ‘next’.”
He passed on the words once spoken to him, now to the next generation. A sorrowful fate. From the moment they joined the Royal Army, death was inevitable. The homeland could not be protected without the blood of patriots.
And at that same moment, some among the fleeing Royal Army began to break off. The gravely wounded halted despite bleeding out, the old veterans also came to a stop.
Those who could no longer be saved—and those who had entrusted the future—launched a counterattack on the pursuing Imperial army.
With beastlike roars, the Royal Army soldiers charged into the Imperial ranks. The Imperial army wavered at the sight.
They had let down their guard, thinking victory was already theirs. They had believed the kingdom was finished. The attacking Royal Army sank their teeth into that complacency.
“Die, enemies of the kingdom!”
“Perish, you invaders!”
“You bastards are finished!”
“You’ve done something that should never have been done!”
“You can’t stop the Princess anymore! It’s your fault!”
Tears streamed down the faces of the charging Royal soldiers.
When she learns of this defeat, another demon like Cynthiana will be born. A fate beyond salvation awaits. Once again, they failed to protect what mattered.
“Comrades! Take at least one of them down with you!”
“For the sake of what comes next—kill as many as you can!”
To pave the way for the future, they resolved to take down as many enemies as possible. With that resolve, two thousand soldiers held off the Imperial army for over half a day.
The Imperial army managed to fatally wound Draconia and Gilbert and bring them down. However, the Royal Army had successfully retreated into the fortress before the killing blow could be delivered. They had failed to finish them off.
The Royal Army unit that held them off was completely annihilated. Without halting even as their lives burned away, they nearly broke through the frontlines once again—but not a single one survived. Naturally, Gramps also died in battle.
Out of the original 120,000 Royal Army troops, only about 60,000 survived. Just 40,000 remained holed up in the fortress. In contrast, once the Imperial army repelled the Royal Army’s rear-guard counterattack, they surrounded the fortress and began their assault.
However, the fortress was sealed by a powerful barrier, and they could not even shake it—let alone destroy it.
Recognizing this, the Imperial army split into two forces and, with a combined strength of 300,000 troops, began their invasion of the royal capital, Alblud.
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