The Price of a King

As the Cecilian Armored Griffons swept across the sky, Count Uriel still had the leisure to admire the scenery of Raven Plateau—this highland, once dotted with several watchtowers and a small fortress, had been one of Saint Suniel's garrison positions. But now it had been destroyed by war. Amid the scattered ruins, only the flags and equipment left behind by the fleeing defenders could be seen, along with the shattered corpses of Crystal Giants. Brand-new banners now fluttered among those broken ruins, creating a strangely striking contrast.

A cool breeze blew past, carrying the peculiar stench of the battlefield. Count Uriel took a deep breath and said with a smile, "The past few days have truly been difficult—but fortunately, those difficult days are finally over."

"We didn't encounter much resistance. There were only a few badly wounded, dying monsters here," a viscount beside him said. "These results probably aren't enough, are they?"

"It doesn't matter. We can gather up these ready-made remains," Count Uriel said casually. "Our king should be very busy next, so I imagine he won't have time to distinguish such minor details."

"Our new king..." the viscount beside him said with a soft laugh. Then he curiously looked up at the sky. "Strange. Why have those griffons been circling around here?"

"Those should be Cecilian griffons," Count Uriel said, looking up. "Are they here to greet us?"

The Armored Griffons circled above Raven Plateau a while longer before suddenly beating their wings and veering away into the distance.

Count Uriel narrowed his eyes. A moment later, unease finally rose from the depths of his heart.

He thought of Count Lucre, who had been executed by the king.

"This is a trap—"

Count Uriel roared in alarm, but a piercing shriek had already come from afar...

Raven Plateau