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Late at night, the capital of the Kingdom of Escratia was bathed in a sea of shimmering lights, adorning the streets in preparation for the momentous Coronation of Prince Artin Von Rothstaylor, the eldest son of King Artemur von Rothstaylor and Queen Arabella.
Rumors swirled through the city, shrouded in a veil of secrecy. King Artemur's sudden illness had been kept hidden from the public until the news of the disowned Prince Ares's demise reached their ears.
The lack of transparency fueled speculation about the true nature of the king's ailment, the timing of his illness, and whether Queen Arabella played a hand in disowning Prince Ares.
"Did Queen Arabella orchestrate Prince Ares's disownment? Did King Artemur truly agree to cast aside his talented son, who had been making a name for himself around the world?"
Whispers echoed among the populace, cautious of voicing their doubts aloud, for speaking ill of Royalty was deemed a crime. Conspiracies and theories sprouted like weeds, questioning the motives behind Prince Ares's disownment and the extent of King Artemur's involvement.
In a lively caravan, illuminated by flickering lanterns, an old man sat sipping his beer, contemplating the unfortunate turn of events. Beside him, a young woman with striking pink hair indulged in her own drink.
"Such a shame," the old man sipped his beer and sighed
"...Yeah, it's a damn shame we lost the pride of our kingdom," the pink-haired woman slurred, taking another swig of her beer.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice quivered as she spoke, "I...I even had dreams of being with him. It's just not fair that we've lost Prince Ares," she sobbed.
Hiccup*
"He was a vision of beauty as if an angel descended upon us. Why did he have to die? Those bastards who took him away should be punished, those beep* beep* beep*... I know the Queen had a hand in this," the woman's drunken ramblings grew louder, but the old man quickly covered her mouth, casting a worried glance around.
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"Hush! What are you doing? Do you want us to meet a terrible fate?" the old man whispered urgently, attempting to silence her outburst.
"Well, at least he's providing free alcohol," Elaine chuckled, finding amusement in the situation as she savored her drink, her ears tuned to the gossips swirling around the tavern.
Seated among adventurers and regular folks, Ares, Elaine, and Meira donned black cloaks to conceal their identities.
"...I'm not sure if this celebration is for your death or Prince Artin's coronation, Master," Meira voiced her confusion.
"I don't believe it's either," Elaine interjected. "After all, he knows that Ares is still alive," she added with certainty.
Ares nodded in agreement. "Yes, and he's expecting me," he confirmed.
Elaine's grin widened as she leaned back in her seat. "Ah, so you noticed the rats scurrying about the capital as well?" she remarked, taking another sip of her drink.
Surprised by this revelation, Meira questioned, "But how did he learn that my master is still alive? Everyone believes he's dead. It's been all over the news for the past three days. No one is discussing the coronation; they're fixated on my master's death," she voiced her confusion.
"Because a member of the Shadow Organization managed to escape him by creating a portal," Elaine explained her gaze fixed on her drink. "And since his brother and the Shadow Organization are in cahoots, it's likely that he has already been informed of Ares' survival."
Meira absorbed the information in silence.
"So there will be tight security surrounding Prince Artin, won't there? How do we assassinate him before the coronation begins, Master?" Meira inquired, her concern evident.
Ares leaned back in his chair, contemplating the situation. "We'll wait until Irethiel returns from her scouting mission. Once we have her intel, we can plan our next move," he suggested.
***
Meanwhile, in the heart of the Kingdom of Escratia, a grand castle stood as a symbol of royalty and power. Within one of its rooms sat a man with dark hair and piercing eyes, bearing a striking resemblance to Ares. The similarity in their features indicated a shared bloodline, revealing their familial connection.
Frustration consumed the man as he slammed his hand on the table before him. "You incompetent bastards couldn't even complete a simple task of eliminating a youngling!" he shouted, his anger echoing through the room.
Attempting to pacify the agitated individual, a figure wearing a half-skull mask spoke from a holographic screen. [Calm down, Artin. We didn't expect him to be that powerful. We lost a significant number of our members as well.] the masked figure explained.
Artin clenched his teeth, seething with anger. "You should have sent someone more capable instead of that incompetent woman who was more interested in playing than fulfilling her duty," he retorted. "I can't believe she was an SS-Rank and got killed by a mere youngster who isn't even an A-Rank."
The masked figure urged Artin not to underestimate their adversary. [Do not underestimate him. He is at least an S-Rank, if not higher. Maya may have had a playful personality, but I can assure you of her capabilities. She would not have been easily defeated.] the figure explained. [There is something peculiar about this Ares guy.] he added.
Deep in thought, the masked figure contemplated Maya's fate. 'I know very well about Maya's ability. She would not die so easily. But the absence of her body at the scene raises two possibilities: either she is on the run after failing her task, or someone else has captured her to extract information about us,' the masked figure contemplated.
Frustrated and filled with a growing sense of paranoia, Artin suddenly exclaimed, "Argh! I'm certain that bastard is already here, ready to ruin everything!"
Assuring Artin, the mysterious figure replied, [Fear not, I have stationed my people throughout your castle to ensure your protection. If they detect anyone suspicious, they will swiftly eliminate them.]
Artin scoffed, expressing his lack of trust. "I can't rely on your incompetent men anymore. I have gathered my best guards and mages to watch over this castle. There is no way he can escape alive if he dares to set foot within these walls," he declared, a malicious grin spreading across his face. "This castle will become his final resting place."
The figure acknowledged Artin's caution. [It is wise to take precautions.] he replied. Shifting the topic, he inquired about King Artemur. [And what of your father, King Artemur?]
A sinister gleam appeared in Artin's eyes as he spoke, "Don't worry about him. His days are numbered. The moment he chose that manaless wretch as his successor over me, he sealed his own fate," Artin chuckled darkly. "I must commend you on the efficacy of the poison you provided. Even our royal physicians were unable to detect it or find a cure."
The masked figure spoke, his voice laced with intrigue. [Indeed, they would not have found a cure, as that poison was crafted by my own hands—] Before he could finish his sentence, a creaking sound from a nearby tree branch outside the window interrupted him.
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!?
Startled, both Artin and the masked figure turned their attention toward the sound.
"Who's there?" Artin questioned sharply, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon as he rushed toward the nearby window, keeping a vigilant eye out.
Slowly opening the door, he cautiously surveyed the area but found nothing more than a crow taking flight.
!!
"...There's no one here," Artin stated, a note of uncertainty in his voice. 'But we can't be too sure. Who knows if he has hired a skilled assassin to target me?' he pondered inwardly, wary of potential threats.
"It was just a crow," Artin finally responded, his guard still up.
[...Be cautious, Artin. We can't afford any mistakes. Keep your guard up at all times. Ares is cunning and resourceful. He will stop at nothing to achieve what he wants.]
Artin nodded, his grip on his weapon tightening. "I understand. I won't underestimate him. I'll ensure every corner of this castle is secured."
[Good. Your safety is of utmost importance. Remember, the coronation is just around the corner. We can't afford any disruptions. Ares must not interfere.]
Artin's eyes gleamed with determination. "Rest assured, he won't get the chance. I will make sure of it. Once I am crowned as the true king, Ares will be nothing more than a forgotten memory."
The masked figure remained silent for a moment before speaking again. [...See to it that it remains so. The fate of the kingdom and our Organisation rests on your shoulders, Artin. Do not disappoint.]
Click—