The capital of the Coastal Country.
"Your Majesty..."
"Your Majesty..."
"Lord Lymons!"
The king of the Coastal Country sat upon his throne, looking down at the subjects kneeling below.
Far too many things had happened in the Coastal Country recently—so many that even the king no longer knew how to handle them.
Nobles from all over the country had sent representatives to request the king's aid.
"Leave."
The king quietly listened to his ministers' reports. In the end, he leaned back against his throne wearily.
The ministers below hesitated briefly before ultimately obeying the king's command and leaving the hall.
"Lord Behemoth, are you truly not going to intervene and suppress the riots caused by those humans?"
Beside the throne stood a young woman with her eyes tightly closed. To outsiders, she was the Queen, but in the king's eyes, she was merely someone insignificant.
"Suppress them? With what?"
The king called Behemoth raised an arm as gaunt as a dead branch. He tried to gather the surrounding mana in his hand, but even that small attempt brought unbearable pain to his mind.
"Heline, why can't you accept the end of your rule? And the passing of your own lives?" Behemoth said, glancing at the blue-haired woman beside him.
"But, Your Majesty, this is your country..." she said softly.
"No, it is your country. Your ancestors worshipped me as a god. I had been alone for too long, so I gladly accepted their request to protect you." Behemoth let out a long sigh. "But now, it has been enough. I witnessed this country's founding and its prosperity. Why can't I witness its destruction as well?"
"But, Your Majesty... if we want to defeat those elves, this country's army is indispensable." Hearing the king speak in such a nearly self-destructive manner,