“Finally, it opens.”

“How long has it been?”

“Will we reach a conclusion?”

Buzzing voices fill the air.

One of Grand Castle’s conference halls, reserved for aristocratic discussions that shaped the history of the Grandia Kingdom, was abuzz with an unusually large crowd.

For the past 2-3 centuries, only high-ranking nobles of count level and above were allowed to attend the Grand Noblesse. However, following an unexpected national funeral, its doors were opened to all aristocrats.

With all the nobility gathered, the turnout was extremely high, so much so that even simple entry and seating arrangements were expected to take a significant amount of time.

As a result, it was not until two hours past the official start time that the presiding officer finally picked up the gavel.

Bang. Bang. Bang!

“The Grand Noblesse will commence shortly. Please take your seats, ladies and gentlemen of the nobility.”

In the conference room, arranged like the fan-shaped seating of a colosseum around the platform, the nobility was mostly divided to the left and right according to the allegiance suggested by the two men seated directly in front of the presiding minister, uncannily alike in appearance.

Despite the absence of outright brawls or outcries, a sinister atmosphere filled the space.

“Unfortunately, His Majesty King Samuel von Grandia the First has passed away without designating a successor. Hence, it is now our duty, in this very chamber, to decide upon the heir that will shape this nation’s future. Please speak up openly if you have any opinions.”

With those words from Prime Minister Pluto Levine, the meeting hall became even noisier than the busiest of city marketplaces.

“Surely Prince Rohiter should…”

“Obviously, it should be Prince Romain, shouldn’t it!”

“What nonsense!”

Immediate high-pitched exchanges turned the conference hall into a scene of chaos.

Padric MacLaine and a minority of neutral nobles watched the factional nobles with darkened expressions.

Logan also couldn’t hide his tension as he carefully observed the movements of the nobles.

‘I heard about it, but it’s even more chaotic than expected. There don’t seem to be any variables…’

Even though the gathered nobility might have guessed it, they understood that this meeting wouldn’t conclude within a day.

In Logan’s previous life, this meeting had escalated to a brawl on the third day when Viscount Haile Teratt, belonging to the faction of the first prince, provocatively raised his middle finger towards Jordan Valtermayn.

That was the spark that created an uncontrollable melee involving even the superhumans, leading to the civil war’s outset.

This incident would later be known as ‘the Finger that Ruined the Nation’.

Haile Teratt, the main provocateur, would be cursed by the people of Grandia for generations.

‘With this atmosphere, it would have happened regardless of who started it.’

Even if the meeting continued without a brawl, whoever was chosen as the successor would not be peacefully accepted by the opposing side.

Considering the current mood, a civil war seemed inevitable.

‘I don’t need to interfere for that to happen. But…’

He knew that the civil war, which began with a mere brawl, would start its first battle only a month or two later, once both sides were prepared.

If the events carried on as he remembered, without any unexpected variables.

‘Bifrost could destroy us during the civil war’s preparation period.’

It was crucial that he provoked an immediate civil war, before either side had time to prepare.

As Logan’s gaze swept over the squabbling princes and landed on a noble initiating his own speech on the stage.

‘Count Larry Clete…’

“Since when have we abandoned the principle of primogeniture to dredge up stale customs? Moreover, when they’re only months apart in age, it all comes down to capability. In that regard, I believe His Highness Romain, who has provided solutions to the trade issues with the Empire, is the rightful choice to become King!”

“Correct!”

“Uuuuuh!”

The responses to each statement were sharply divided.

Although one might expect Count Larry Clete’s complexion to change, he only smiled, focusing on the supporters of the second prince.

Although he himself had tumbled from the position of Finance Minister down to a mere scribe, his household had held the position of lead minister of one of the nine major divisions of the kingdom for four consecutive generations – still a household of considerable influence among the capital’s nobility.

Furthermore, if the second prince became king, that would extend to five generations of holding that influential position.

‘I’d be replacing that lucky, talentless Falun Davis.’

Count Larry fervently supported Prince Romain of the second prince’s faction.

As the cheers from the second prince’s party grew louder and the jeering from the first prince’s party intensified, only Larry fixated on the second prince, incessantly flashing smiles.

Observing him from afar, Logan couldn’t help but scoff.

‘To think he’d later switch sides to the first prince… Maintaining his position even when occupied by the Empire.’

Even though Logan was far from feeling the persuasive power of those flattering, empty words, that man had proven his skill in flattery through his survival through both the civil war and the Empire’s war.

In his past life, he was ranked ninth on the hit list of the Grandia Liberation Front, codenamed ‘Parasite.’

‘This time, let us meet a little sooner, Sir Parasite.’

It was Logan, in his former life, who had ultimately severed the man’s tenacious lifeline.

* * * The first day’s meeting ended as the two factions merely raised their voices against each other.

When the noise exceeded reason, Prime Minister Pluto declared the meeting adjourned, and naturally, it was postponed to the following day.

The next day.

As Larry Clete was entering the meeting hall, he ‘accidentally’ brushed shoulders with Logan.

“Ugh!”

Thud.

“Oh, my apologies. Are you alright?”

“What are you doing?! Can’t you look where you’re going?”

“I apologize for my mistake.”

As Logan politely helped the fallen Larry to his feet, he bowed again. Little did anyone notice, a ring worn by Logan had inflicted a nearly imperceptible scratch on Larry’s shoulder.

The resumed meeting saw yet another few fruitless hours of back-and-forth arguments.

“His Highness Romain has shown interest and achievement in numerous aspects of state governance. It is only right that he…”

Mid-speech, praising the second prince as he had the day before, Larry Clete suddenly stopped.

“It is only right that he… uh, blood? What is this all of a sudden… ugh!”

Crash!

Larry, attempting to stem a sudden nosebleed, suddenly flipped his eyes back and collapsed backward, tumbling down from the stage.

“Count?!”

“Count Clete!”

“What in the world?! Call for a priest!”

The noisy conference hall was thrown into upheaval in an instant.

With an expressionless face, Logan watched the commotion from the back of the hall.

‘The effect is as expected…’

Rete’s Pull.

This precious herb, known for hair loss treatment, when infused with Force for three days, its medicinal effects increased hundreds of times in strength.

The enhanced properties were so potent that if used by an ordinary person without a touch of Force or mana, it could become a lethal poison that ruptured blood vessels in the brain.

Yet, this fact would only be discovered 15 years later.

It was only then, after numerous attempts by the Grandia Liberation Front to assassinate the Empire’s high officials, that they stumbled upon this application.

While not effective against knights or magicians and too expensive to be used frequently, the potency was undeniable.

‘Farewell, Count Parasite.’

As Logan paid his cynical respects to the man who met with the same death by the same hand as in the previous life, a priest rushed in frantically.

“It’s too late. The brain damage is severe. I don’t know what poison it is, but this is…”

The single sentence of the flustered priest brought a storm to the already chaotic conference hall.

“Rohiter! How dare you poison my subordinate?!”

Prince Romain von Grandia lashed out angrily at his brother.

In response, Prince Rohiter von Grandia, his face red with fury, countered loudly.

“What nonsense! Who would fall for such an obvious farce? For what gain would I kill such an underhander?!”

“What? Underhander?!”

Not only the princes but their factioned nobility backed their arguments with a brooding aggression that soon escalated into physical confrontation.

Crash!

“This ends today, Roxina!”

“Exactly what I wanted, Cloie!”

The legendary feuding houses from the North were the first to clash, and their ancient grudge became the spark for nearby individuals to raise their Force and mana.

With almost a third of the aristocrats being civil officials oblivious to combat, the majority of the territorial, martial, or magical noble houses were either Force users or magicians.

As the entire room was on the verge of a violent clash, a commanding voice filled the chamber.

“Everyone, stop!!”

Searching for peace, the Sword Master, Felix Esperanza, timely tossed cold water on the heated situation.

And yet, even in these circumstances, the princes continued to disagree, and their shouting resumed.

“We have clear evidence of what has happened; how can we determine a ‘fair’ cause, Duke!”

“Cut off a mere servant with no use by staging a farce. I wholeheartedly agree with the Duke!”

“Ridiculous! Vile secret schemes! And you talk about farce?!”

“Something must be pricking your conscience for you to disagree.”

The faces of the two beautiful young men, one with platinum hair and the other with emerald eyes, distorted into ferocity.

“What? Ha! Investigation? Fine, then! Fine! If it turns out this was your doing, the throne is mine. You do agree, don’t you?”

“If you have more tricks planned for the investigation, such childish provocation …”

“Hmph! Laying out vile schemes and now playing coy?”

As the conversation continued, their voices only rose, with no sign of agreement.

“Duke, if you could just hear me out for a moment…”

The Duke stepped forward with a stiff expression, attempting to mediate.

However, it was then that a gray-haired giant and a blue-haired sorcerer concurrently backed their respective princes.

A clash of presences generated by three Dukes focusing on the princes caused distortions in the space around them, drawing the attention of everyone present.

“Do not interfere, Sword Master.”

“Even you will find us two difficult, Sword Master.”

“…Do you realize what you are about to do?”

The Dukes responded coldly to the agitation of the Sword Master, who had been trying to silence the oncoming disaster.

“These pointless meetings are meaningless; you know this, don’t you?”

“Bringing matters to an end like this wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“Good heavens, you crazy bastards…”

Perhaps they were merely awaiting an appropriate reason to proceed with what seemed an inevitable course of action.

“We don’t want to cause more problems within the palace, Sword Master.”

“We have no wish to turn the capital into a battlefield. Please restrain yourself, Duke Felix Esperanza.”

As the second and third mightiest superhumans in the kingdom jointly applied pressure, even the Sword Master was left with no options.

Then, sensing the right moment, the second prince pointed accusingly at the first prince with a furious voice.

“You are no longer my brother, Rohiter. Let’s prove who truly deserves the throne with force!”

“Likewise!”

The standoff between the two factions finally escalated into an overt declaration of war.

As Sword Master Esperanza looked up at the sky with a look of dismay, the two Dukes glared at each other before turning their backs.

Marking that moment, the princes also turned and exited the conference hall. The watching nobles followed suit, splitting into two paths corresponding to their factions.

West and East.

Ironically reflecting the distribution of the factions, they headed in opposite directions.

The few who were dismayed by this spectacle were truly in the minority.

“Master, this was inevitable. Please calm yourself.”

Logan’s consolation was genuine.

Although he played a role in amplifying the situation, the clash was bound to happen anyway.

For decades, the ambition of the two Dukes was not something his master alone could contain.

“What should we do? How can I face the late King now…”

The Sword Master was left looking hopelessly towards the heavens.

Behind him, Padric, who had been silent throughout the two-day meeting, looked at his son with a strangely hard expression.

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