# The Drawbridge
The drawbridge slid down smoothly. It had been less than an hour since the Annihilation Squad began their infiltration operation when the inner castle gate was neutralized.
This was to be expected. While the Annihilation Squad's official purpose was to assassinate high-value demon army targets, their internal design philosophy as Elizabeta's loyal forces was "coup d'état."
Without being able to undermine Alexandr's legitimacy, Elizabeta had to seize power through a coup. Though her successor, the counterintelligence command, ultimately finished the job, the Annihilation Squad's training had included scenarios for forcibly occupying Pritzenkaya.
"My disciple."
Enrique looked at Ivan with a somber expression. As they crossed the drawbridge and entered the inner castle, Ivan's face grew increasingly cold.
Around them, skeleton soldiers continued to battle against royal guards who had been resurrected as undead.
Since the royal guards' faces remained intact, and since the Annihilation Squad members were people he had personally trained one by one...
All the dead now fighting were "comrades" whose names, lives, personalities, and achievements he could recall just by glancing at them.
And now these comrades were raising weapons against each other. The battlefield was filled with explosive sounds instead of screams.
One agent collapsed, crushed by a massive mace. The knight who struck him down soon lost his head to another agent who had silently appeared behind him.
Ivan walked on in speechless rage.
As the youngest member of the Royal Guard, all of them had been seniors worthy of respect. They were the ones who charged ahead in the late king's final assault, even on a battlefield where death was certain.
He had heard that none of them died after the king.
In those days, all the Royal Guard had volunteered to die before their lord, matching the king's charge. Their combined efforts had saved the lives of hundreds of thousands of citizens.
Their eternal rest should have been better than this. Their remains should never have been defiled by a vampire's sorcery.
Their honor...
"My disciple."
Enrique's voice reached him. Ivan turned to her with bloodshot eyes.
Flinching momentarily at his appearance, she soon sighed and shook her head.
"Relax a little. I know it's difficult, but... remember what you've learned."
Do not infuse emotion into revenge against enemies and adversaries.
This isn't to say revenge itself is worthless. After all, the more ruthless the revenge, the greater the terror it inspires. When one agent falls, you must demand tenfold damage in return. So that enemies fear attacking your comrades.
Therefore, the Annihilation Squad's revenge must take place in the realm of operations, not emotions. It's part of the most efficient and effective "shock operation."
And from the teacher's perspective...
No. Rather, from a sinner's perspective, Enrique couldn't help but feel immense sadness and guilt at Ivan's anger.
If she was their target, then this situation was ultimately—
"Enough."
Ivan placed his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. When he lowered his hand, his expression had returned to normal.
He reached out and stroked Enrique's hair. When she flinched at the unfamiliar gesture, Ivan patted her shoulder and said:
"It's not your fault, Enrique."
"My disciple..."
"If we're assigning blame, it belongs to them, and if we're exacting a price, we should collect it from them. I've never blamed you, nor do I intend to. Don't reproach yourself."
If you trust me, trust my judgment.
At Ivan's words, Enrique bowed her head deeply. Her hand, gripping Ivan's sleeve, trembled slightly. He patted the back of her hand a couple of times before continuing on.
The royal shrine was close by.
This was the path the Annihilation Squad had opened. They merely cleared the way to the shrine without following him inside.
-Click.
An agent tapped his chin, making a hand signal. 'Survival' and 'rescue.'
To elaborate: something like, 'The living person should do the rescuing.'
As if he'd made an amusing joke, the agent clicked his chin again and shook his head. He soon drew his sword and turned his back.
The dead would handle the complicated roles, so the living should press forward.
Ivan silently nodded and took the lead.
[The Spider has entered the shrine!]
[The master? What about the master?]
[He hasn't finished the ritual yet. We need to buy time!]
[Enrique is with him. How can we possibly stop them?]
As the vampire monitoring the situation through the eyes of the dead fell into confusion, another stepped forward and quietly knelt down.
Since the shrine's chamber was modeled exactly after the throne room, he looked like a subject presenting a petition to his monarch.
[Your Majesty, traitors have violated the capital.]
The man sitting on the throne raised his head.
[Our sins are so great and deep...]
As the vampire bowed his head respectfully, the man gently shook his head.
"It is my lack of virtue. Order the soldiers to withdraw and bring in the traitors. I shall personally behead the conspirators."
The vampire quietly bowed his head and respectfully withdrew. Other vampires standing beside him watched the scene and laughed.
[Even Enrique can't handle all of us at once. If we can just deal with the Spider...]
[Shh. Things will get complicated if that old man comes to his senses. Just keep your head down for now.]
[Alright. I understand.]
The vampires quietly snickered as they stood behind the king, assuming respectful postures like royal guards.
The throne room doors opened smoothly.
Ivan stopped in his tracks as he saw the figure sitting on the distant throne.
Except for the purple glow emanating from his eyes, the late king's final form sat there, looking at him as vividly as if he were still alive and breathing.
Ivan silently walked to the center of the throne room. Finally, he slowly knelt down.
"Your Majesty."
He looks up with eyes full of expectation. Perhaps, like the Annihilation Squad...
Yes, carefully, with a heart hoping for a miracle.
Wasn't this the moment he had longed for, even in dreams? He had thought their reunion would come much later.
After completing all his missions, after casting aside his last lingering attachments.
If heaven truly existed, and if he qualified to enter it. Then perhaps they would meet again at that time.
Since hearing of the king's death, he had pondered what words to speak at this moment. It had become one of his few hobbies. What should he say if they met again?
Should he speak of the time he had endured alone? Then His Majesty might have comforted him with dignity.
Should he proudly recount his achievements? His Majesty might have smiled and praised him.
Or he could complain about being transferred from the Royal Guard Division to the Annihilation Squad.
Or, or.
Perhaps just boundless gratitude. To you who raised a farmer's son, a mere conscript. To you who gave a mere conscript, a young boy, the opportunity to stand shoulder to shoulder with heroes and knights.
What words should he speak? What words would begin their conversation on that day when it finally came?
He had spent countless nights with such thoughts. Since all his dreams were nightmares, he needed pleasant imaginings before sleep to maintain his condition.
So in this moment...
"Your Majesty. Do you remember your humble servant... me?"
He hopes for a miracle.
Like the Annihilation Squad, he hopes the king will break free from the magical spell and smile at him like he did that day.
He knows the situation is different. Here and now, his king was under a spell cast with all the vampires' might.
And also, he was merely a common soldier. Though he had guarded the king, compared to the many knights in the Royal Guard Division, he was just a boy soldier.
For the king to remember him even after death would be too much to ask, as the king had ruled over so many.
So, while it would be a lie to say he didn't hope...
"I do not remember the face of traitors."
After fourteen years. Hearing the king's voice after all this time, it would also be a lie to say he wasn't disappointed.
Ivan hid his disappointment and slowly stood up. His trembling hands grew cold.
As he rose, the king also stood from his throne. A massive greatsword slowly rose in his hand.
He could sense his companions approaching. Enrique stood worriedly by his side, and behind him, the others who had followed quietly drew near.
"Uncle, we should..."
"I will not allow it."
He blocked Asidis, who was trying to step forward, with his axe handle. Asidis retreated, flustered.
"My disciple. With that level of magical power animating the dead... you can't handle it alone. We need to attack together."
"Enrique."
"Calm down. I know, I know you're angry. But that is not 'the late king.' Most of the physical composition has been replaced by spells, and the remaining soul is just a puppet tuned for battle. Since it doesn't move with muscles and nerves, you shouldn't think of it as the elderly king. It's the king before aging. So..."
Ivan the Great in his prime.
In his youth, the king who expanded this country's territory threefold with just three thousand cavalry.
Ivan "the strongest." One shouldn't be deceived by the elderly face. "That thing" likely possesses both the experience of Ivan in his later years and the combat ability of Ivan in his prime.
Without Einar, Gil Ber, and Maximillian, it couldn't be faced head-on. This was discussed when the Hero Party was formed. If the king had been twenty years younger, the party composition would have changed.
Though said in jest, it was no joke now. It was just a dry fact. Right now, they were essentially controlling a member of the Hero Party...
After waiting patiently for Enrique to finish speaking, Ivan replied in a low voice:
"Enrique, the same applies to me."
"...What?"
"Since my first battle until now, my strongest moment has always been today, Enrique. This is my prime."
He stepped forward and drew his axe.
"And I'm not angry right now, Enrique."
He stared directly at the late king who moved and looked down at him.
No child in this world can face their parents as equals after growing up. Human life is so short that by the time they've grown sufficiently, their parents' time is already approaching its end.
This is how generations flow. Those who come after can never confidently claim to have surpassed those who came before.
But now, at least today. If he could prove himself by giving his all...
In all his imaginings, the conclusion was always the same.
If they ever met again, if they could reunite in heaven someday.
Then he would face him proudly and say: This is how much I've grown. Since there would be no aging in heaven, he would approach the king in his prime, smile, and say:
This is how your son has grown.
"Have you finished your discussion?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Will you face me alone?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The old king's stern face momentarily softened. He smiled with satisfaction as he descended from the throne.
"Your spirit is admirable. Come, if you desire this position, prove your worth with your strength."
"I do not desire that position."
Ivan, too, walked forward with a faint smile.
"I came here seeking your recognition."
"It won't be easy."
"You always set higher standards for me alone. Yes, I remember."
-Click.
Holding his axe, moving forward.
With arms no longer thin, with a face that now finds smiling awkward.
Remembering the milk and dried ham given to nourish his thin body back then.
Ivan steps forward.
Ivan stands in the way.