Chapter 100: Batevil Royal Family (3)
“Never thought I’d ever step foot this deep into the seat of power in my whole damn life...”
Gale muttered, his voice laced with tension.
The three of them were now headed to the Audience Hall—the very place where the king of Batevil had once received envoys and important officials.
“Quit the whining.”
Calix snapped, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smirk.
“Stop being dramatic. You're dragging down my dignity just by association.”
“Hah! Excuse me—unlike you, noble boy who probably skipped down the halls of Arad’s palace as a toddler, I’m just some ragtag mercenary, alright?”
Gale shot back without missing a beat. He was well aware of the close ties between the royal family of Arad and the Zahardt family.
As a direct descendant of Zahardt, Calix Tutatio Zahardt was easily the most familiar with royal courts among them.
“I mean, seriously! Me, in a royal palace, headed for an audience chamber only nobles walk through? Hours ago, I couldn’t have imagined this in my wildest dreams!”
Even if no one alive remained within.
“...Well, anyway.”
Gale let his words trail off, realizing this blood-soaked Batevil palace was a far cry from the dazzling royal courts people dreamed of—and hardly the place for idle chatter.
‘...Guess I’ve gotten too used to this.’
Too many years spent in battlefields where comrades and enemies alike died in droves. The sight of slaughter no longer triggered panic or even alarm.
Gale had become the kind of person who could watch someone die in front of him without flinching.
‘Back in Virga Village when we were swarmed with corpses, or that first time I met the brat. Or when we fought the Manticore with our lives on the line—that was way more terrifying.’
Of course, if he had to choose the most chilling moment of all—it was his first one-on-one encounter with Elwin on the airship.
‘That kid actually behaves differently when others are around. Keeps himself in check.’
Even in a brutal world like this, most people couldn’t stay calm at the sight of mass death.
Honestly, he hadn’t even noticed it until now. For him, it had become just another part of daily life.
But then he noticed—his companions, too, were eerily composed. So much so that he’d been joking around like he was back among his merc buddies.
‘Normally, you’d expect someone to puke or pass out, right?’
Gale wasn’t sure. He scratched his head awkwardly.
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve rarely seen “normal” reactions in my life.’
The reeking scent of blood vibrated through the air like a butcher’s stall.
But the torn bodies scattered like garbage weren’t animal carcasses—they were once dignified humans, alive just hours ago.
‘It’s different when you actually see people—humans—slaughtered like this with your own eyes.’
He’d heard about the massacre of Aajen Clover’s merchant group. But seeing it? A whole different story.
‘Lives, damn it.’
Even in a world where life was easily snuffed out, the value of each one didn’t diminish.
Gale was well aware of how much of his humanity had been worn away.
So he wasn’t about to start lecturing or pitying others.
‘But those two—what have they been through to be this composed? They've never even been in a real war… right?’
He found it strange. Truly strange.
Sercia and Calix, who looked like they'd lived refined, noble lives untouched by such violence.
And him, a nobody mercenary of uncertain birth, status, and past.
Somehow, the invisible line that had quietly divided them seemed to be fading.
Like fog parting, revealing a point of overlap that had always been there.
“...Well, I suppose we Zahardts have caused the Arad royals our fair share of trouble.”
Then, surprisingly, Calix agreed with him—for once not contradicting a word.
Caught in his own strange thoughts, Gale kept his mouth shut, startled by the rare concession.
But Calix, perceptive as ever, either noticed and chose to ignore it—or just kept talking anyway.
“Still, the Arad royals are all noble and gracious. No matter what trouble I caused as a child, they always forgave me with compassion.”
“...Seriously, noble boy? Even as the Zahardt scoundrel, you’re still loyal to Arad?”
“Ahem!”
“Oho? Sounds fishy~”
Gale narrowed his eyes sharply. Calix cleared his throat with unnatural urgency, clearly rattled.
Meanwhile, Sercia didn’t so much as glance at them. She simply strode forward, resolute.
Most of the furnishings were destroyed or stained with blood, yet her steps were unwavering.
“Hey~ Miss, wait up!”
“You two were the ones who got distracted, weren’t you?”
“Ahem.”
“S-So you’re sure this is the right direction? Don’t we need to check the other rooms too?”
Gale and Calix hurried after her, tossing questions as they caught up.
“Of course. We already checked the windows from outside earlier and confirmed there was no one in those rooms.”
Sercia replied confidently.
The Batevil palace had a relatively low two-story structure.
“In palaces like this, the Audience Hall is usually on the second floor. It’s a precaution against infiltration or assassination.”
“Oooh~ Makes sense. You were from a pretty well-off family too, weren’t you?”
“……”
Sercia was from the Edelweiss family—a household famous for its magic, based in Dagnes, the northernmost country of the northern continent.
“What was it they used to call you again…? Ah! Right! The Jewel of Edelweiss!”
Now that they were in Cosmo, Gale recalled the gossip he'd heard around town.
At Gale’s exclamation, Sercia gave a bitter smile—like she'd just bitten into a mouthful of wormwood.
“You’re wrong. More like the ‘Eyesore of Edelweiss.’”
“…Huh?”
“I’m an adopted child. I don’t share their blood. So please don’t call me something ridiculous like ‘Jewel of Edelweiss’ again. That’s just a cruel nickname mocking my situation.”
The sharpness in her voice made Gale realize he’d stepped in something deep.
‘She was adopted...? So she’s not on good terms with her family? …Crap, did I say something wrong!?’
Gale reeled, thrown into internal panic.
“Enough of that. Let’s get to the Audience Hall. If Elwin’s not there either, we’ll leave a message with Nexion and wait outside the palace.”
With that, Sercia turned and headed up the stairs. Calix, shaking his head, followed silently.
Gale stood frozen for a moment before scrambling to catch up.
“W-Wait for me—!”
Before the grand Audience Hall, the scene was no different—blood and corpses strewn about.
But this place showed the clearest signs of desperate resistance.
“Looks like they tried with all their might to protect their king.”
“...So it seems.”
The faces of the royal guards around the hall’s entrance were etched with not just pain, but desperation.
After a brief moment of silence in respect, they carefully stepped over the bodies and entered.
“Elwin!”
And there he stood—the one they had been searching for.
“You’ve arrived.”
Elwin, who had been calmly gazing at the throne, shifted only his eyes toward them, his expression grave.
“‘You’ve arrived,’ he says?! You little brat! I told you to say something before running off!”
“Oh? Gale, when did you ever say that to me?”
Elwin’s eyes widened innocently, as if he’d heard something truly unexpected.
“Every time! You always vanish without a word and drive me nuts, damn it! ...Wait, why do you look so surprised?”
“No reason… You just said the same thing as someone else.”
Without another word, Elwin turned away and walked toward the throne, brushing past Gale.
“Good timing. Miss Sercia, I need your help with something. Come over here, please.”
Sercia and the other Spero members followed him to the throne.
It was hard to believe this pathetic piece of furniture once symbolized royal authority—riddled with slash marks and soaked in blood.
‘Looks like something out of a power struggle in some broken kingdom.’
Elwin knelt before the throne like a fallen prince, and Gale couldn’t help but see that image in his mind.
“Miss Sercia, could you take a look at this?”
“What am I looking for?”
“The magic circle carved into the floor beneath the throne. Ah, one sec—I’ll make it visible.”
With that, Elwin casually lifted the massive throne—what had to weigh several tons—as if it were a stuffed toy.
He didn’t even seem to register the feat.
“I’ve learned some magic, but nothing compared to an actual mage… I sensed something magical hidden here, but I couldn’t interpret it.”
The Spero members had long since agreed to stop reacting to Elwin’s casual displays of inhuman strength. It was just easier that way.
Sercia tucked her hair behind her ear and bent over the circle.
“...Hmm. It’s pretty complex. It’s a protective magic meant to cast a powerful barrier. It also has concealment features to prevent detection. Looks like there’s a secret passage underneath.”
She murmured with admiration—only royal magic could be this intricate.
But internally, she was stunned. Even she, a mage, hadn’t sensed this magic circle—yet Elwin had identified it instantly.
“So then, Miss Sercia. Can you break the magic circle? I’d like to see what’s hidden below.”
With confidence, Sercia replied,
“Of course! I was top of my class at Rusram Academy, after all.”
She pulled out a feather pen from her subspace—a tool favored by mages for reverse calculations.
“I’ll show you my reverse-engineering skills.”
Within five minutes, she unraveled the spell and deactivated the circle.
“Done! It worked!”
With her shout of triumph, the magic circle spun and revealed a circular opening.
Vrrrrrrr—!
Just big enough for a single person to squeeze through.
An emergency escape route for royalty.
“Let’s go. They couldn’t have gone far.”
Please... still be alive.
Elwin whispered and dove into the opening.
***
Meanwhile, somewhere within the secret passage—
“Huff, huff!”
A group of people ran through the damp, filthy corridor.
Their faces were pale with fear and dread, but even so, they kept moving—driven by a single, unwavering resolve: to save their sovereign.
“...Kgh—!”
Suddenly, from the center of the group—where he was being protected—an elderly man let out a deep groan.
His next coughing fit was harsh, and it brought up a mouthful of blood.
“Just a little farther, just a little more... Please hold on, Your Majesty! We will get you to an external physician no matter what!”
“...Heh. I wonder if that’s even possible.”
A tearful voice cried out in anguish, but the old man could only smile bitterly.
That man—was none other than Albinious II, King of the Batevil Kingdom.