Screams erupted throughout the once-silent Imperial Palace. "Defend the Imperial Palace from the demon's grasp!" Among the palace guards, who had once stood united to protect the Imperial Palace, a violent rift had opened. Some soldiers followed Commander Hollander, determined to shield the Imperial Palace from demonic forces. And others sided with the royal family, seeing Hollander's men as insurrectionists. "They've been deceived by lies!" The path to the main palace was quickly soaked in the stench of blood. It was inevitable—when soldiers clashed, casualties followed. Caron could have cut his way through with ease, shortening his journey by striking down everyone in his path. But he chose not to walk that simple road. With each flash of Caron's blade, soldiers from the royal family collapsed to the ground, clutching their ankles. Caron's strikes aimed to incapacitate, not kill—every movement delivered with surgical precision. It was a level of swordsmanship so refined, it bordered on artistry. "Owner, do you really need to go this far?" Guillotine asked. Caron scoffed and replied, "The Malevolent Emperor's goal is to split the empire in two. If I go around swinging my sword recklessly, all I'll do is deepen that divide." He ran at full speed toward the main palace as he handled the situation. Oddly, there was no sign of Marquis Diaz's forces. Despite all evidence pointing to Marquis Diaz having sided with the Malevolent Emperor, there wasn't even a trace of his presence. Under Marquis Diaz's command were two knights of 8-Star caliber. Caron wondered why such powerful assets hadn't been deployed in this massive conspiracy to swallow the Imperial Palace. No matter how much he thought about it, nothing in this operation followed any predictable pattern. But one thing was certain. If he reached the main palace, the truth would undoubtedly finally come to light. As Caron rushed through the main palace, the voice of Cor, the Master of the Magic Tower, echoed through the communication orb. "We've secured the teleportation circle in the garden. It will activate in five minutes." "Thank you," Caron said. "Are you seriously planning to storm the main palace alone?" Cor asked. Caron gave a dry chuckle and nodded, then said, "Of course." "Just don't die, boy," Cor said. "Don't worry, I'll outlive you old folks," Caron replied. The main palace came into view. Its sky was painted the same deep violet as it had been during his Coming of Age Ceremony. Only, one thing was different. This wasn't a dream nor a vision. This time, it was real. A tragedy that had waited fifty years to repeat itself had unfolded in the royal palace. Caron kicked off the ground, speeding up. He passed by the gates once crossed by Halo long ago and ascended the steps leading directly to the main palace. The vast courtyard before the palace was utterly empty. Not a single soldier stood guard. Only a thick, oppressive wave of dark mana oozed from within. Caron climbed the steps without hesitation. This was the place where Cain Latorre had died—but such memories no longer clouded Caron's mind. This wasn't Cain Latorre; it was Caron Leston ascending the stairs. He was simply doing what should have been done fifty years ago. The Orias Empire couldn't be allowed to collapse . Even the empire owed a great debt to the Malevolent Emperor—the Demon King of Havoc. But in this life, Caron had no intention of fighting alone. As long as they shared a common goal, he would grasp any hand offered to him—even if that hand belonged to the descendant of someone who had once destroyed him. At last, Caron landed before the palace doors, and with slow, steady steps, he entered. With every stride, the concentration of dark mana grew denser. Ironically, the dark mana could, in a way, be considered pure. It was pure malevolence. A massive, overwhelming evil that consumed everything around it had taken hold of the main palace. "...The Demon King of Havoc," Guillotine muttered, a trace of a sigh in his voice. "Owner, is this where you meet your end?" "Stop saying crap like that," Caron said. "I'm a demonic sword, so saying crap is my specialty," Guillotine replied. "So you finally admit that you're a demonic sword," Caron said. The mad dog and the mad blade exchanged jests, and at last, they stepped onto the stage. At the top of the stairs, the imperial throne came into view. Seated upon it was a man, his chin resting on one hand, wearing the golden dragon robe that only the emperor was allowed to don. But it wasn't the emperor who wore it. It was someone else. "Crown Prince Iorn," Caron muttered. It was the face he had expected. Of all the emperor's sons, this one resembled the Malevolent Emperor the most. His lustrous black hair remained the same, but his eyes—once imperial gold—had already been stained a vivid shade of violet. "At last, you've come," the Crown Prince said as he slowly rose from the throne and gazed down at Caron. "It has been quite a while since we last stood face to face." "You crazy bastard," Caron spat. He had already realized that someone else resided within the crown prince's body. Although the body was Iorn's, the mind wasn't. There was no doubt that this was the Malevolent Emperor. Caron didn't need to think twice. "So now you've possessed even the emperor's eldest son?" Caron asked. "Figures, you've always been the same—a shameless vermin who doesn't know the meaning of disgrace." The Crown Prince—no, the Malevolent Emperor—laughed softly, then answered, "Now that I think about it, we never truly met. You always bowed your head before me. That is why this moment brings me such joy. A knight once so lacking in strength now stands tall before me, fully grown." The Malevolent Emperor raised a finger. From behind the throne, a man—barely clinging to life—was dragged forward by dark mana, floating limply in the air. It was Marquis Diaz, the Crown Prince's father-in-law and one of the empire's most influential figures. "The empire has changed quite a bit in my absence," the Malevolent Emperor said. "Respect for the royal family has vanished, and the nobles now steer the court like a ship with no captain. I intend to restore that order." He stepped down from the throne. And with each footfall, shadows quivered throughout the main palace. From those shifting shadows emerged figures wearing black masks, appearing one after another. They dropped to one knee before the Malevolent Emperor and shouted with reverence. "My loyal servants," the Malevolent Emperor said, "Show me your faces." At his command, they removed their masks one by one. Caron immediately recognized them. They were nobles he had identified long ago through informants of the ducal house. More precisely, they were members of Marquis Diaz's faction. But now, thick dark mana clung to their bodies—their souls, it seemed, had already been claimed by the Malevolent Emperor. "Fascinating, isn't it?" the Malevolent Emperor said. "Time may change, but human nature does not. I merely coaxed out the desires festering within them. It was of their own volition that they offered up their souls." He flicked his finger once more. The noble standing at the front pulled a dagger from his coat and cried out, "Please accept my soul, Your Majesty!" Blood splattered across the golden-tinged floor. And the noble who had plunged a dagger into his own heart soon collapsed to the ground. His blood quickly pooled beneath him—forming a rippling puddle from which a blade of pure crimson emerged. The Malevolent Emperor reached out and casually gripped the sword, then smiled at Caron with eerie calm. He said, "From the moment you stepped into this place, my plan was complete. Go on—strike me down with your blade. I will gladly offer my neck." It was just as Caron had expected. There were no horrific spells here, no legion of monsters. Only the Malevolent Emperor, and the vermin who had sold him their souls. Caron tightened his grip on Guillotine as he said coldly, "Even after all these years, that twisted mind of yours is as transparent as ever." It was a trap—and there was only one way out. No matter how just his cause, if Caron beheaded the Crown Prince here and now, the empire would be cleaved in two. That outcome was inevitable. Even with all the justification in the world, the image of the Ducal Family of Leston executing the Crown Prince would overshadow everything. The best solution was to capture the crown prince alive. But there was no way the Malevolent Emperor would allow that. "My knight," the Malevolent Emperor said, his voice dripping with mockery, "What are you hesitating for? This is what you have longed for, is it not?" Dark mana rippled outward like a storm. The Malevolent Emperor's voice was steeped in malice, clouding the mind and stoking the heart with emotion. "The bond forged through your friend's sacrifice will now be shattered," the Malevolent Emperor said. "Doubt will fester in its place, and that doubt will gnaw away at the empire without end. So rejoice, for with your own hand, you shall split the empire you so despise in two." Civil war was coming. And yet, Caron had no choice but to raise his sword. If he didn't end this calamity here and now, an even greater one would befall the land. So Caron took up his blade, and without hesitation, he lunged forward. A shimmer of mana rippled beside him. "Hold on, boy. Stop for a moment," came a familiar voice. Then, a familiar face emerged from the glow. It was Cor, the Master of the Imperial Magic Tower. Even in a space choked with dark mana, Cor's mana blazed like a star. The portal he'd summoned shimmered with radiant light. Caron scowled and asked, "What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm working right now?" Cor grinned slyly and replied, "I'm here to work too." "What about the garden?" Caron shot back. "The magic circle has already been activated. Troops will be arriving from Azureocean Castle shortly. Besides..." Cor shrugged. "I received orders from someone high up. What choice do I have? I'm just following them quietly." "...Orders?" Caron asked, his brow furrowing. The Master of the Magic Tower wasn't someone even Halo could command lightly. Caron wondered who could possibly have the authority to issue orders to him, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. Another figure stepped through Cor's portal. "Sir Mason," Caron muttered. Sir Mason, one of the empire's 8-Star knights and personal guard to Prince Revelio, had arrived. One of the royal family's most powerful warriors was now standing in this very place. Sir Mason offered Caron a faint smile, and said, "So we meet here, of all places." "If you're here..." Caron began, trailing off. Sir Mason's assignment had been to return to the emperor. His presence here could only mean one thing—his liege had come as well. Caron turned toward the portal again. Through it walked an old man, slow and deliberate in his steps. Like the Malevolent Emperor, he wore the golden dragon robe of the imperial line. His frame was small and frail—he looked as if a mere breeze could knock him over. But no amount of frailty could mask the authority that clung to him like armor. His golden eyes glimmered with unshakable resolve. He raised a hand and gently touched Caron's shoulder, then said, "Caron Leston. Would you allow me to take your place for a moment?" Caron bowed deeply and stepped aside. "Thank you," the emperor said. "Of course, Your Majesty," Caron replied. The emperor took a step forward and lifted his gaze. "It has been a very long time," he said, his voice trembling—not with fear, but with something deeper, resolve and finality. The Malevolent Emperor let out a low, amused chuckle. He said gently, "You've aged, my son." "I had to walk a very long road to escape your shadow," the emperor replied. They glared at each other in silence for a long time. The emperor's expression churned with emotion, but when he finally spoke again, his voice rang clear. "Caron Leston." Caron bowed again and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty." "Do not hesitate. Your will is mine. Cut down the blight that defiles our royal family," the emperor declared. "I accept your command," Caron replied. And the knight of long ago once more answered the emperor's call without hesitation.