# The Royal Guard
The Royal Guard was one of Krasilov's most elite military branches. Though there were times in history when they served as mere honorary positions, this wasn't the case during wartime.
During the demon war, Krasilov's king almost always had to appear on the frontlines personally. After consecutive defeats had diminished royal authority, battlefield command and actual military power became essential to restore it.
Of course, the king of that era would have gone to the frontlines regardless of such reasons.
In any case, the Royal Guard was a unit always forced into the vanguard, and to protect the king, they needed to be the best in loyalty, patriotism, and skill.
As a result, they were treated as a branch that gathered the nation's most elite soldiers and ground them down most terribly. This lasted for about five years, from when the king had to go to the frontlines until the Hero killed the Demon King.
"Senior..."
Ivan muttered with an astonished expression as he stared at the note.
The scribbles on the note, seemingly random numbers scrawled in several lines, represented tactical symbols from bygone days that were no longer used.
Among them was the Royal Guard's command and control numerical cipher system.
The content of this cipher was as follows:
-Novagorod withdrawal operation.
-00 deceased. Allied casualties total 23 personnel.
-01, 11 survived.
-Survivor assembly point, Pritzenkaya, University, in front of 00's statue.
The Novagorod withdrawal operation referred to the campaign where the former king refused to withdraw and chose to defend the stronghold.
At that time, Krasilov failed in intelligence gathering and couldn't predict the demon army's consolidation. Tumur the Scorched, one of the Seven Dragon Generals who should have gone to the eastern front, personally led his forces to participate in the battle.
The allied kingdoms' operational policy at the time was this: When a Dragon General appears, abandon that front. Engage in delaying tactics while aiming for minor victories on other fronts and inducing enemy retreat.
Dragon Generals were disasters that humans couldn't face. It was unavoidable.
The problem was that Krasilov, having failed to detect the Dragon General's movements in advance, wasn't prepared to withdraw from that theater.
Numerous civilian homes, conscripted soldiers unprepared for withdrawal—to preserve the national body, these people had to be saved. Especially in times when each soldier was becoming increasingly rare.
The king had a grown son and grandchildren born with royal blood. In other words, he was replaceable. But if the soldiers were annihilated, that would be different. If the northern front collapsed, Pritzenkaya would be next.
Krasilov could have become the sixth fallen kingdom.
So the former king made his choice. The most rational choice, with a smile.
By announcing his presence, provoking the Dragon General, and voluntarily becoming what the demon army commander would consider "the most appetizing tactical target."
The king's delaying tactic saved tens of thousands of citizens and soldiers that day.
The Royal Guard perished with the king. Except for Ivan and a few troops, there were no survivors from that day. There shouldn't have been.
*Rustle*
Ivan thought while fidgeting with the note. In the Royal Guard's numerical cipher, 00 was the code name for the former king. 01 was...
'The Guard Captain.'
The Dragon Slayer Pavel Sergeyevich Orlov.
"Um... mister?"
Isabelle tapped his arm with a pale face. When Ivan's gaze met hers, she flinched and forced a smile.
"That... he's dying."
"Ah."
Only then could he see the student choking in his grip. This was just someone who had delivered the note without knowing anything, who had been enjoying the festival.
Ivan quietly released his strength, put him down, and bowed his head briefly.
"I apologize. That was excessive."
"N-no! It's fine! I'll be going now!"
"Hmm."
The student fled, trembling. Isabelle, who had been watching Ivan with concerned eyes, carefully approached and asked.
"Is it an urgent matter?"
"I'm sorry."
Strictly speaking, this was a dereliction of duty. His only assigned mission was to protect the Hero Party's children.
Being swayed by a suspicious note left by a survivor from old times who was presumed dead could, if one had to put it into words, mean falling for an enemy's ploy.
But... but.
Ivan remembered Dragon Slayer Pavel. The Guard Captain, the most loyal royal knight. A man who, remarkably for someone of this era, guided and led him without prejudice regarding status or age.
He had never longed for the war era. It was too terrible a time to miss.
But those heroes who ran alongside him, those men who fought back-to-back and shed the same blood...
It is said, do not mourn... So he didn't mourn. Because it was a precarious time when he could depart to join them at any moment. While he could rejoice at the reunion in the afterlife, he didn't mourn the dead in the land of the living.
Because it remained caught in a corner of his heart. Like a small thorn, poking, poking at his mind.
Ivan bit his lip and gathered his thoughts for a moment.
"Mister, if it's urgent, you should go."
"But..."
Ivan turned his gaze to the others watching him. He saw Asidis with an anxious expression and Elfihera looking at him with some complex emotions.
Protecting them was his duty.
And seeking out a comrade presumed dead was... desire.
He had never had to choose between duty and desire before.
"What's with that look, like I'm holding you back or something."
"Elfihera."
"Yes, yes, I'm Elfihera. An elf, a mage, and powerful. Let me be honest. You didn't really believe all that talk about protection and escort requests, did you?"
Elfihera sighed deeply. Ah, I've been pushed back all morning, and now it's my turn in the afternoon.
"Go. Walking around with that face will only make me feel guilty. Did a human really think they could protect an elf? With how many elves are here, such worries. Goodness."
"That's right, uncle. I'll be fine! Oh, everyone, thank you for this! It's delicious!"
"You don't seem to have taken even a bite..."
"Hey now. We agreed not to worry about such things. Right?"
Ivan gave a grateful eye-greeting to the chattering Asidis and rose from his seat.
"Resolve it well and come back. If possible, come back and explain a bit too."
"Hmm."
Since he had abandoned his escort duty, it was only natural to explain the reason to those he was supposed to protect. Ivan nodded briefly at Isabelle's words and stood up.
Assembly point. Pritzenkaya, University, in front of 00's statue.
At St. Yansk University, the former king's statue stands in the middle of the plaza just inside the main gate. Where the crowd is most concentrated.
Indeed, to hide a tree, put it in a forest; to hide a person, do it in such a place. Most government agents don't meet in secluded locations.
Ivan set off toward the plaza with heavy steps.
"Teach me how to make this."
"Um, Miss Isabelle? Did you... like it that much?"
"No. Honestly, it's like garbage, but that man cried eating this. If I make it properly, he'll like it."
"...This was made properly..."
"How could that be food...?"
Boil kimchi in water and it becomes kimchi stew. (It doesn't.)
After hearing this simple recipe, Isabelle slightly downgraded her evaluation of the trio at this booth in her mind.
Upon arriving at the statue, Ivan could spot Pavel at a glance.
A suspicious man in a thick robe was looking up at the statue. From the beginning, this plaza was densely packed with counterintelligence agents, so how could someone in such suspicious attire enter?
Besides, he already knew that build and physique. Ivan was a trained agent, skilled at inferring people from their build and aura.
Because it was an unforgettable back.
"Senior."
"Ah, you've come."
The man's body turned around. Only then could Ivan see his face.
Bushy brown hair and vivid green eyes shining between them.
A deep old scar covering one eye and extending to the cheek.
Even the black burn mark from the jaw to the nape, said to have been acquired while hunting a dragon.
"I heard you died."
"Did you confirm the body?"
"No. Back then, no one... but..."
"I'm joking. You're still stiff. Maybe even more so."
Pavel approached with a gentle smile and extended his hand. It seemed like a hand offered by the dead, and Ivan could only recall it was a handshake after staring at the gesture for a while.
The hand he grasped was firm. Still as if in his prime.
"I'm not the only one presumed dead. Our usefulness shines even more when we're considered fallen."
"Was it a royal command?"
"Well."
Seeing Pavel's smile, Ivan frowned. Had the princess deceived him? He had clearly been told that he was the only survivor of the Royal Guard.
This wasn't something worth lying about. Even if they were using him as an undercover agent, couldn't the princess have shared this information with him?
Especially after watching how much he had suffered since that day.
Perhaps because his complex emotions showed, Pavel patted his shoulder and said:
"It suits you well. Did you start growing it following His Majesty?"
"Shamefully... yes."
"Splendid. You've grown it almost identically."
"Yes, senior."
This is how normal people think. Ivan was quite impressed by the situation of conversing with a normal person of this era.
"I'll escort you to a comfortable place. Shall we go?"
"Ah, I'm sorry. I'm on a mission."
"Pardon? Ah, have you been active?"
"Since that day, continuously until now. The same goes for you, doesn't it?"
Ivan hesitated for a moment.
A trained agent can infer many things simultaneously from a short conversation. Understanding ambiguous expressions and subtle implications is fundamental.
He can't move from this spot because he's on a mission?
But he sent me a cipher to call me here?
Then, reading between the lines, calling me to this place itself might be part of the mission...
"Senior."
"Ah, my mistake. Perhaps I've been seeing you as too young. I've erred."
Pavel smiled brightly. A trained agent can understand implications from short conversations.
Pavel, too, noticed the change in Ivan's tone and smiled, shaking his head.
"Over a long time, the little one has grown into a man. I apologize."
"Senior."
"Don't move. There are many people around."
A threat made with a crowd of people.
He doesn't mean he'll personally slaughter them. Ivan, standing directly in front, has enough ability to prevent that.
So, this means... there's a weapon capable of mass destruction. And it's in the hands of an accomplice nearby.
Ivan exhaled briefly.
He repents.
Choosing desire over duty is always such a foolish act.
And doubting "common sense" in an academy genre is equally pathetic.
Isn't it common sense for combat events to occur at festivals? The food from his homeland (it's not) and the appearance of an old comrade had made him complacent.
There won't be a second time. Ivan is a rational person, so he doesn't repeat the same mistake twice.
"Where does your loyalty lie?"
"Haha, Little Ivan. To ask that in this situation. Are you still dedicating your life to a meaningless royal authority?"
"Still?"
Ivan looked into Pavel's eyes and moved his hand behind his waist.
No axe. Just a small dagger and a pistol.
But a lack of armament is no reason to avoid combat.
"Forever. That's what you should have said. Didn't we all take the same oath on the same day?"
"Ivan. Stop this meaningless act."
"Come down."
Ivan growled, opening his eyes that had been briefly closed.
Toward Pavel, who was still standing in front of the former king's statue.
"That is not a place where you dare to stand."