The Day of the Final Battle

The next day.

As dawn broke, the entire Imperial Capital was already shrouded in an indescribable gloom.

In the knight barracks near the city walls, fully armed contingents of Knights had been making their way toward the Imperial Palace since last night, moving through street after street. The sight frightened the citizens into retreating into their homes, too afraid to come outside.

Some merchants and trading houses with better connections—or ties to the nobility—seemed to have received word in advance and knew just how turbulent today would be. Every one of them had chosen to close for the day.

Some noble families had even sent their children out of the Imperial Capital overnight, as though fleeing something, or as though the nobles were arranging an escape route, causing the oppressive atmosphere to grow heavier still.

The Imperial Capital was exceptionally grim and sparsely populated today, completely devoid of its former bustling liveliness.

Inside and outside the Imperial Palace, countless heavily equipped knights stood in neat formations or were stationed throughout the grounds, guarding their posts with solemn expressions as an aura of killing intent spread through the air.

That news was brought into House Bigusle.

Capeline and Rocket happened to be in the study, having discussed today's plans through the night. When they received the news, both their expressions became somewhat grave.

"Sir Rocket, what do you think?"

Capeline asked Rocket.

Rocket did not hesitate and gave his answer directly.

"Throughout history, there has only ever been one purpose for mobilizing troops: war."

That was right.

War.

The current situation was no different from preparing for war.

"Does that Poisonous Consort intend to tear all pretenses apart and confront us head-on?"

Capeline's expression darkened.

She had wanted to expose Moro's actions before all the nobles of the nation and have