Faction Formation and Condolences

Whoosh!

The steam turbine let out a massive roar as a huge gray-painted ironclad ship cleaved through the waves, racing into the depths of the Black Sea as though fleeing for its life.

The warship had gradually moved away from Atlan's royal capital, the political, economic, cultural, and transportation hub and main port, Oslo City. The enthusiastic cheers of the city's people could still be faintly heard.

"Atlan, my kingdom, which had stood for nearly a thousand years... has it perished just like that?"

The King of Atlan—oh, the "former" King Harald I—stood on the deck of the ironclad, his face ashen as he muttered.

Even though an entire day had passed, he still felt as though he were in a dream—and a nightmare from which he could never awaken.

Behind him came the mournful sobs of royal family members and loyal remnants of the fallen nation.

Before this.

Neither the Human World's peak combat force, the Titled Knights known as Kingdom Guardians, nor the national weapons known as Steel Behemoths, built with demon technology, had been able to preserve their privileged positions.

Fortresses were always breached from within.

The failure to overthrow kingdoms guarded by Titled Knights in the past did not mean it could not be done now. The key was gathering eight masters capable of mobilizing sufficient "public opinion."

After years of accumulation by the Democratic Fighters, they had finally gained the corresponding power today. Quantitative change had produced qualitative change.

Still, these Atlans would not end up like King Enrique II of Iliya, who had been sent directly to the guillotine by the people.

After all, the deterrence of a Titled Knight was there for all to see. The eight politicians in charge had no real urge to clash head-on with a Titled Knight.

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