CRAAAAAAASH!

  Duke Veryon's grin could have frozen hell over.

  The guard mechs and battle mech armors made their grand, uninvited entrao the throne hall.

  These weren't your average party crashers but rather several tons of metal indifference, bulldozing through the walls as if they were mere suggestions rather than solid barriers.

  The crumbling masonry apaheir every step, a dramatic soundtrack to their destructive debut. As dust settled like the aftermath of a particurly aggressive fetti on, these behemoths of steel phemselves amidst the aristocracy with the grace of elephants doing ballet.

  CRASH! CRACKLE! CRACKLE!

  “AAAH!”

  “WHAT?! WHO?!”

  “WHAT IS THIS?!”

  Veryon spread his arms.

  “There you are!”

  Beep! Crackle!

  “Lord Veryon! On your and!”

  As the meical minions ked and cttered into the hall, the nobles gasped, clutg their pearls and medals as the se unfolded. They started to scramble for cover, faces white as sheets, as the walls crumbled around them.

  Yvain, caught in the midst of weaving a magical pact spell to eheir submission, now found himself ensnared in a more tangible form of coer.

  Shock reflected in his eyes, panic causing his hands to tremble.

  Over the past three years, since Man Le Fay's mysterious vanishing, the Duke had been quietly weaving his web of influehroughout Edensor's pad military.

  The pace guards might as well have worn Veryos on their uniforms, so thhly had he bought their loyalties. It seemed Edensor had been waltzing to his tune, especially after young King Yvain lost his support.

  Now, with the meical might of guard mechs and battle armor from the kingdom’s military—operated by those whose pockets jingled with Veryon gold—crashing through the throne room doors, Benjamin Veryon decided the time was ripe for a bold move.

  Treason? More like a strategic realig of royal assets, as he would put it at the high society dinner.

  “Oh, oh dear.”

  Veryon’s voice cut through the chaos, his tone dripping with dession as he addressed the young king.

  "Oh, dear Yvain, pying a king was a charming endeavor, wasn’t it? But let’s not kid ourselves—absolute submission? To you? Don’t you realize that this kingdom was mine already?"

  Around them, the room erupted in a tumult of e and fusion. ood, their faces bnched with shock, voices raised in a cacophony of protest and disbelief.

  "Benjamin, this is madness! You’re itting treason!" Marquis Reune shouted, his voice hoarse with betrayal.

  "Duke Veryon, have you no honor?" Duke Merweather demanded, his stern visage now creased with worry.

  Even Duke Eldric Olfield, often a pilr of posed strength, struggled to maintain his posure.

  "This is rebellion, pin and simple," he stated ftly, hoping reason could prevail over the coup unfolding before them.

  Uurbed, Veryon's ughter echoed off the grand walls, rich with derision.

  "Rebellion? Honor? Oh, please. Save your breath and your feigned loyalty,” the man mocked.

  “We all know this kingdom's strings are pulled from my fiips. The people of your pace, the people of the nobles’ paces, all of them had their absolute submission for me!” Benjamin Veryon chuckled.

  “It’s time Edenss true ruler. Now, Yvai's expedite your abdication, shall we? Or must we do this the hard way? After all, you’re just a boy!”

  The army of Soulnaught had ehe walls of Edensor anyways. Veryon might have been caught off guard by Emperor Burn, and it might be too te to defend against him, but against this child?

  That, he could mah the ease of a routiuesday chore.

  As long as he secured trol over Edensor, anything ossible! Even Emperor Burn would have to tend with him to gain dominiohis rid prosperous nd.

  Not to mention his new and upgraded battle mech armor he just purchased. Even Burn wouldn’t be able to go against all twenty of them!

  “He was right.”

  Veryon raised his eyebrows. He turned his gaze to Yvain, who now stood before his throhe earlier panid shock had vanished from his demeanor, repced by a calm, steady gaze.

  It was as if… he had never been shocked—as if the entire dispy had been nothing but an act.

  “Oh, how predictable you are,” Yvain raised his hand forward.

  ***

  “Your Majesty, is this alright?” Gahad inquired as they stood before the walls surrounding Veryon's territory.

  “What? Leaving the boy alone in the pace?” Burn asked back.

  “Yes,” Gahad bowed low, ready to hear his emperor’s sarcasm.

  He fully expected Burn to express indifference about Yvain's survival, enting that it didn't matter who woween Yvain or Benjamin Veryon, since Edensor was effectively theirs regardless.

  “He ha,” Burn said, shog Gahad.

  “...Your Majesty?” Gahad asked.

  “That boy is going to be one of our vassals in the empire. Under Soulnaught, he'll bee one of our swords. Why? Because I decreed it—and frankly,” Burn shrugged nontly, “the kid’s got the chops for it.”

  Burn truly had nothing to lose. He saw this as an opportunity to test Yvain's mettle: if Yvain failed to defend himself against Veryon, Burn would swoop in to save him at the st moment, seg the boy's ied loyalty.

  If Yvain succeeded, oher hand, Burn would gain a formidable new ally. Either way, Burn stood to be by giving this stage for him to prove himself.

  If it wasn’t against him or Soulnaught force, Yvain wouldn’t die that easily. In all previous loops, Burn noticed a pattern in the boy’s destiny.

  That Yvain Edensworn was a forot to be fotten.

  ***

  Yvain Edensworn, the young monarch of Edensor, asded into the air, his royal robes billowing as if caught in a tempest of his own making.

  His scepter, an a artifact al authority, crackled with raw electrical energy, drawing arcs of lightning from the charged atmosphere of the throne room.

  "I am Yvain Edensworn, King of Edensor and the heaveh sun. In the names of my te parents, Belezak and Madeline Edensworn, and guided by the Infich, I pass judgment upon you—"

  Before he could finish, Duke Veryon's and cut through the tension, "Capture him!" His voied, urgent and anding, as he directed the mech pilots t into a.

  The hall erupted into chaos. From behind the orapestries and the once-imperable stone walls, guard mechs and battle-armored suits burst forth.

  Their metal bodies, engineered for war, glinted uhe flickering deliers as they advaowards Yvain with meical precision.

  Yvain, suspended in mid-air, gestured with his scepter. The first mech that reached him was met with a surge of electric fury.

  Lightning leaped from the scepter’s tip, enveloping the me a cage of blinding energy. The smell of scorched metal filled the air as the mech staggered back, its circuits fried by the overwhelming power.

  Uerred, another mech charged, its arms equipped with energy bdes aiming to disarm the young king. Yvain spun in the air, a dancer in a deadly ballet.

  With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a gust of wind that khe mech off its trajectory, sending it crashing into its panion with a thunderous ctter.

  The third mech adjusted its strategy, ung a barrage of miissiles desigo overwhelm magical defenses. Yvain’s eyes narrowed; with a swift intation, he created a shimmering shield of magical force around himself.

  The missiles exploded on impact, their fiery wrath tained by his spell, illuminating the hall with their short-lived fury.

  “YOUR MAJESTY!”

  “AAAAAAAAH!”

  “NO!”

  “Yvain…”

  Faintly, Yvain heard the soft voice of his master.

  “Why did you call me that? I’m scared when you call me by my full name…”

  “Haha… fine, my dearest pupil, Ain…”

  “Yes, Master?”

  “...when I’m not by your side…”

  “NO!” Yvain yelled.

  As debris settled, Yvain tered swiftly. He ted in a fotten tongue, and from the grouhereal s of light shot up, binding the mechs' legs.

  The meical behemoths struggled against these are restraints, their efforts futile as the magic sapped their systems of power.

  “You’re not leaving me, Master!”

  In a desperate attempt to turide, a mech pilot overrode his damaged trols, manually steering the hulking suit towards Yvain with a ramming maneuver.

  Anticipating this, Yvain directed a trated pulse of kiiergy from his scepter. The impact resohrough the hall, sending the mech tumbling backward into a pilr with a crash that echoed like the ringing of a cathedral bell.

  “AAAAAAAAH! TAKE COVER!”

  “RUN!”

  "I barely remember my parents' faow, Master. When I feel scared, it's your face I see whenever I y eyes."

  Breathing heavily, Yvain hovered, his scepter still crag with residual magic. His young face, lit by the ethereal glow of his powers, bore a look of resolute determination.

  Below him, the incapacitated mechs y scattered like fallen giants, their threat nullified by the dispy of royal magic.

  “I don’t regret my life, Master, even if I perish with this kingdom. It's just shameful that in your absenot only I not find you, but I ’t even protect everything you've entrusted to me.”

  “I want to make you proud. So please, e bad see for yourself—I’ve grown much stronger.”

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