Standing Alone

The Hall of Oaths was silent.

Atop the elevated platform, the back of the black throne was shaped like a sharp sword, pointing straight into the clouds.

This was an empty throne.

It represented the principle of equality upheld by every king, as well as the oath that none of them would ever develop ambitions of dictatorship.

It was a throne no one was allowed to sit on.

Yet the tall figure draped in a floor-length robe slowly sat upon it while gazing at the twenty weapons planted before the throne.

"..."

The figure seated upon the empty throne made not even the slightest sound of breathing, merely staring at the twenty rust-covered weapons so close at hand.

These twenty weapons had been left behind by the twenty people who created this world eight hundred years ago.

In other words—

The original twenty, who were hailed as the creators.

Rustle...

The figure seated on the throne raised a hand and brushed against the robe, producing a faint rustling sound.

Five pills rested in the raised right hand.

The figure slowly brought the pills to her mouth and swallowed them directly without chewing.

After a brief silence, two additional irises quietly appeared in the figure's eyes.

Then the figure slowly extended her right hand and drew out a knight's sword with an unusually long hilt from among the twenty rust-covered weapons.

"..."

The figure silently held up the knight's sword, which had existed for eight hundred years and looked as though it might collapse at any moment.

She knew that the person who had originally planted this knight's sword before the throne was the head of the Nefertari Family, one of the original twenty, and the only family among them that had chosen to remain in the lower world.

Put plainly,