“You insolent wretch!” King Gordon II of the Zion Kingdom exploded with fury, jabbing a finger at Caron. The maniac from the Ducal Family of Leston was unmistakably holding his son by the collar. “Release my son this instant!” Gordon shouted. But Caron only let out a snort of laughter and gave Prince Goron a little shake as if he was checking the ripeness of a melon. He replied, “Oh, so this punk’s dad is you?” “How dare you! Who do you think you are, pulling this madness in a place meant for the leaders of nations?!” Gordon II raged. But the newly crowned King Kali III of the Neon Kingdom, who sat beside him, gave a visible shudder and muttered under his breath, “Gordon II, if I were you, I’d shut my mouth and take a seat right now.” The Zion Kingdom and the Neon Kingdom had been blood-sworn enemies for generations. Their history was one of endless war, and even though Kali III had only recently ascended the throne, relations between the two nations remained frigid at best. Yet even so, Kali offered that warning without hesitation. The reason for that was simple. If that Mad Dog goes off the leash, no one’s going to stop him, Kali thought. He knew all too well who that young man with piercing blue eyes was. It was Caron Leston. A so-called hero, praised across the continent... Kali III still remembered clearly the day Caron had come to the palace of the Neon Kingdom. “If anyone even thinks about messing around, I’ll come find you and cut your damn throat. Got it? Give me a nod if you understand.” Caron had said that while tapping his sword against people’s shoulders—casually, as if he was just brushing dust off their uniforms. Caron Leston had defeated even the famous Mercenary King. His power was real, and his temper was explosive. There was no reason to poke a bomb just to prove a point. But Gordon, still oblivious to Caron’s nature, continued shouting, “A man who was humiliated by some mercenary dares speak to me ? The emperor must take responsibility for this disgrace! I will not stand by and—!” Just then, Sultan Clark of the Pajar Sultanate, watching the scene with a grin, interrupted him. “For a king of some fist-sized southern backwater, you sure have a foul tongue.” “S-Sultan!” Gordon stuttered. “Be grateful your little country doesn’t border mine,” Clark said. And then, from another corner of the room came laughter. “Good grief. Looks like Gordon II really doesn’t know who that young man is.” The speaker was none other than the leader of the Holy Kingdom—the father of the faithful who followed the light. The Pope, robed in gold and white, chuckled and added, “To squander the life granted by the Light so disgracefully... Truly pitiful.” “I must agree, Your Holiness,” the regent of the elves said, her voice serene. “If the Mother of the World Tree saw this scene, she would surely sigh in disappointment.” At that point, it was no longer diplomacy—it was collective ridicule. Gordon slammed the table with his fist and shouted, “So now you show your true colors! You’ll all pay for this insult! I’ll make sure each and every one of you answers for the injustice done to my son!” But his bravado didn’t last long. Caron flung Prince Goron to the floor like a sack of trash. Then he sauntered toward Gordon, his lips curling into a mocking grin. That was when Gordon finally noticed the sword strapped to the young man’s waist. He thought, This is the Imperial Palace... Bringing a weapon into the heart of the palace was strictly forbidden. Anyone who entered armed was treated as a would-be assassin of the emperor. So Gordon II wondered how this lunatic had done it. He didn't understand what kind of man just waltzed in with a sword as if it was nothing. Revelio, who had been watching the whole scene with amusement, pointed a finger at Caron and called out, “Hey! Why’d you bring a sword in here? You trying to assassinate me or something?” “Oh, whoops. I totally forgot. My bad, Your Majesty,” Caron said casually, scratching the back of his head. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in the palace, I guess I forgot the rules.” “You idiot! That’s attempted assassination of the emperor!” Revelio said with a laugh. “Come on, let it slide just this once,” Caron said with a smile. An informal conversation with the emperor, and those ice-blue eyes... Finally, Gordon was able to understand. It clicked at last who the young man before him truly was. “...Caron Leston?” he said in a trembling voice. The young man—Caron—grinned lazily and replied, “Now that you know, does it change anything?” “O-Our Zion Kingdom has long maintained friendly ties with the Ducal Family of Leston. No matter who you are, even if you’re Caron Leston, you have no right to treat us !” Gordon said. “That’s up to me. Why do you get to decide that?” Caron asked. He jerked his chin toward the crumpled form of Prince Goron on the floor and added, “On my way in, I overheard that bastard whispering filth to Amy. Asking her to be his concubine, offering to let her ‘feel something better than a sword,’ spouting vulgarities that trampled on her honor as a knight. A jackass like that only learns one way—by getting his face smashed.” Googlᴇ search 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⚑𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⚑𝙣𝙚𝙩 Gasps and murmurs broke out around the room. The Imperial Guards were the very face of the empire, and anyone foolish enough to insult them had to be completely devoid of sense. And the victim, of all people, had been Amy. She wasn’t just a regular knight. She was the pride of the Imperial Guards, the very flower of their order, and a top contender to become their next commander. The idea that someone would speak to her like that, let alone a visiting prince, was beyond disgraceful—it was suicidal. But even now, Gordon refused to back down. “If there’s blame to place, it should come from the emperor himself. Who are you, some random brat with no connection—?” Gordon began, but was cut off. “Amy’s my friend. Isn’t that reason enough?” Caron interrupted. “You insolent wretch!” Gordon shouted. “Hah! And here I thought the leader of the Zion Kingdom might have at least a few working brain cells. Your Majesty,” Caron said, turning to Revelio with a scoff, “Didn’t I tell you? Morons like him shouldn’t even be invited to these damn peace talks.” Revelio gave a good-natured shrug and replied, “Still, it wouldn’t be fair to leave people out in a discussion about peace, would it?” “Then let's settle this by majority vote. I'd like to propose excluding the Zion Kingdom from this summit—does anyone object?” Caron asked. Unsurprisingly, almost no one raised an objection. After all, the major players in this peace summit were all part of the so-called “Caron Cartel.” Only one person raised his hand. “Caron, how about we show a little mercy?” Revelio suggested with a faint smile and his hand raised. “Even if he raised his son like a total disaster, the Zion Kingdom holds a strategic position. Isn’t that right, Gordon II?” “Y-Yes, exactly what I was trying to say—!” Gordon II began, but was cut off. “But that doesn’t mean you were right,” Revelio cut in coldly. “You think I treated you like an equal just because I was being lenient all this time?” The emperor’s tone turned razor-sharp as he continued, “I’ll deal with the insult to Dame Amy separately. For now, consider your life spared. Show some gratitude." Caron scoffed and said, “Your Majesty, you’re too kind. Trash only learns when they’re beaten to within an inch of their life.” “If that’s the standard, you ought to be marched to the gallows first,” Revelio shot back. “Honestly, who the hell brings a sword into the Imperial Palace?” He gave Prince Goron’s motionless body a lazy kick and plopped down in the vacant seat beside the emperor without a shred of shame. Gordon glared at him with barely restrained murder in his eyes, but Caron didn’t flinch. Instead, he said in a voice loud and clear, “Are you going to keep staring? If you raised your brat like that, you should be the one to take responsibility.” A tremendous wave of mana surged from Caron, flooding the chamber with crushing pressure. Gordon had no choice but to lower his head. ...This humiliation... I will repay it one day... he thought. But the truth was... He wouldn't get the chance. After three long years, Caron Leston had finally returned. And with his reappearance, the Second Continental Peace Summit took a turn entirely unlike the first. The atmosphere shifted sharply. The first matter on the table was, unsurprisingly, the ongoing conflicts among the southern kingdoms. One by one, the monarchs raised their voices, each blaming the other in a cacophony of accusations. “Alright, how about everyone dials their greed down a notch?” Caron said as he slammed his fist on the table with a deafening thud. And just like that, the southern kings fell silent. “Are we doing peace or not?” Caron asked. He didn’t even bother to drag out the question. He simply swept his gaze across the room and threw out the words. But his voice alone froze the kings in their seats like statues. According to our informants... Caron Leston holds the real power behind this summit. This whole meeting was organized by people close to him... So we should probably play nice, shouldn’t we? The first to respond was, of course, King Kali III of the Neon Kingdom. “O-Of course. Whatever Sir Caron desires—” Kali began, but was cut off. “Relax, Your Majesty,” Caron cut in. “This is a formal setting. No need to get so stiff. You can speak casually to me.” “O-Oh, no! I couldn’t possibly...! Our Neon Kingdom fully supports your views, Sir Caron! We’ll take the first step. Whatever you propose, we’ll yield,” Kali said. “Is that so?” Caron asked. “Y-Yes! You mentioned military downsizing, correct? I agree. Reducing military expenditures and putting those resources into reconstruction efforts should be our priority,” Kali replied. “Excellent. That’s exactly what I was hoping for,” Caron agreed. Disarmament was the proposal that aimed to downsize the bloated armies of the southern kingdoms, grown fat from years of war. After all, they weren't in a true postwar era yet. The empire had only brokered a temporary ceasefire. Now that the Neon Kingdom had agreed to disarmament, Caron nodded with satisfaction and said, “That was a very wise decision from King Kali III... Now, how about the rest of you? And just to be clear, I’m asking the southern kings specifically.” One particularly dull-looking leader raised a timid question. “Why are the empire, the Sultanate, and the Holy Kingdom exempt from this disarmament?” Caron raised a brow and replied as if the answer were obvious, “Do you not like it?” “I wouldn’t say that I don't like it, but...” the leader trailed off. “If you don’t like it, then forget it. I’ll come disarm you myself,” Caron declared. “P-Pardon?” the leader stuttered. “I’ll visit your kingdom right after the summit and do it personally. Oh, do you like civil wars, by chance? Because rebellion happens to be my specialty. Might be fun to install a new king while I’m there,” Caron said. It was a blatant threat. The moment it was delivered, the table ceased to be a negotiation table and became something else entirely. But not a single king dared to object. They had all heard the stories. “I can personally vouch for Caron’s talent with rebellions,” the emperor said. “As can I,” the Sultan chuckled. “He did quite the job in our Sultanate.” “Oh! Me too,” the Pope added. “Surely everyone’s heard tales of the Warrior's exploits by now.” Three great powers—the empire, the Sultanate, and the Holy Kingdom—each threw their weight behind Caron. And with those giants backing him, the smaller southern kingdoms had no choice. “So, shall we proceed with disarmament?” Caron asked. Faced with this iron wall of influence, the southern kings could only submit. One after another, beginning with King Kali III’s enthusiastic support, the southern leaders all nodded—even Gordon II, his pride still bleeding. Caron nodded in approval then said, “Wonderful. Oh, and later today, we’ll all be signing a formal declaration of peace.” “W-Wait, a declaration of peace—” a leader cut in. "Ahem," Caron interrupted. “...Very well. We’ll do it,” the leader said, taking the hint. The mood in the room had completely transformed from that of the first summit. No one dared to challenge Caron now. “Thanks to your brave decisions, peace will finally come to this continent. Countless people will sing your praises. A round of applause, everyone,” Caron said. As Caron began clapping, the members of the Caron Cartel followed suit, creating a reluctant but resounding chorus of applause. Having swiftly wrapped up the first agenda item, Caron looked around the chamber with a grin. He said, “This gathering is also a chance to talk about the continent’s future. As you’re all well aware, the Demon Kings continue to eye our lands with growing hunger." He transitioned smoothly to the second topic. What he wanted was a united front. An alliance of nations against the Demon Realm. But centuries of conflict, rivalry, and bloodshed couldn't be wiped away overnight. So, Caron made a different kind of suggestion. “Honestly, I don’t expect us to all become best friends overnight. Too much blood has been spilled,” he continued. Unifying the continent would take sacrifice and negotiation, and there were many paths to harmony. But most of them were slow and complicated, and Caron had no patience for that sort of tedium. He couldn't understand why he had to waste time with diplomacy when he could just beat everyone into line. “I propose a Unification Tournament,” Caron declared. “...A Unification Tournament?” the leaders echoed. “Each nation will send its best warriors. We’ll have them test their strength against one another. There’s an old saying of 'you grow closer by fighting.' No matter your race, age, or gender, once you’ve crossed blades with someone, you get to know them,” Caron explained. Caron’s return, after three years of silence, was marked exactly as everyone should have expected...