The news had come as a bolt from the blue.
A young woman—a transmigrator—had taken her own life in Tariyth, a city of no small importance in the eastern reaches of Tiuccia.
This incident, which would later become known as the tragedy at Tariyth, marked the beginning of the end.
✦ ✦ ✦
The king of Tiuccia had been a guest in far-off Raghion at the time. When he heard that this woman, whose name he hadn’t even known, had died, he could only stare at the messenger in shock as the teacup slipped from his fingers.
A sharp noise filled the room—the cup had hit the ground and shattered. Its contents were spreading out across the floor.
The news had come from his brother, the prince who was serving as regent while he was away on his six-month ambassador visit to Raghion. The victim was a woman his brother fancied, and he had been considering taking her as his second wife.
One of the king’s sons, the Fourth Prince, had been admitted to a Raghion institute of learning. The king’s current goodwill visit had coincided with that.
The king had been planning on chatting with his brother about his blossoming love once he returned home to Tiuccia. The royal family had been overjoyed at the prospect that the king’s brother might remarry.
Seeing as the elderly transmigrator who had been friends with the previous king had recently passed away, Tiuccia needed to deepen its ties with the transmigrators further.
Transmigrators were people who had previously lived and died in another world known as “Japan,” a place different from this world of Golden Dawn. They had a strong sense of camaraderie toward each other.
And they protected the women among their number fiercely.
If a woman’s chastity were to be stolen from her or if she were otherwise harmed, the organization known as the adventurer’s guild would bring its full force to bear and exact crushing vengeance on the offender.
That was a truth the world had come to know when the guild had attacked the Yuliana Empire, a nation that had once existed in the Central Nations. They had brought about its ruin as a result.
The floor, with tiles laid out in a geometric pattern, was now littered with scattered bits of the teacup.
The king had been taking tea at a resplendent villa his retinue had rented for the duration of his stay in the region of Sarawit. It offered a gorgeous view and had a garden, which he had been enjoying until moments prior.
But now, his once-peaceful countenance was frozen in horror, and he merely sat there, unmoving.
The first to recover from the shock was Nadar, a man who had accompanied the king on this goodwill visit as part of his retinue. He approached the king and, placing a hand on his shoulder, shook his liege.
“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” he yelled.
The king was still paralyzed.
Nadar furrowed his brows.
He knew just as well how the king felt—Tiuccia would soon feel the wrath of the transmigrators. But without orders from His Majesty, Nadar and his men had their hands tied.
“Alois! Get a hold of yourself!” Nadar barked tersely.
The king and Nadar had a deep bond—they had trained in swordsmanship under the same master. A sharp rebuke from his best friend brought the king back to his senses.
Meeting Nadar’s eyes, the king nodded. Then, he looked to the knight who had brought this message.
“I suppose there’s no mistake, then...”
The missive had been delivered to the villa by way of crystal ball transmission from Alraghion.
Now that he had the king’s proper attention, the knight launched into the detailed report that had been sent from Tiuccia. As he read the messages aloud, several more reports were brought to the garden. These, too, had been delivered through simple crystal balls installed at the villa.
Nadar gazed out at the scenery he had been enjoying from the villa’s garden once more.
From their high vantage point, they had a sweeping view of the massive lake below. Surrounding it were hot desert dunes, and ashen clouds floated far above the water. Pouring rain cascaded down from those clouds in a ceaseless waterfall, which was aptly named the Great Falls.
The roar of the water crashing into the basin below ordinarily would have rendered all conversation impossible, but a noise-dampening barrier had been erected around the lake to dramatically reduce its thunder.
A similar barrier had been set up around this villa as well, and no outside noise could penetrate the space. That wasn’t its only function, however, as it likewise prevented those on the outside from eavesdropping on conversations held within. Regardless, Nadar considered ushering the king back inside the building. Best not to take any risks, he supposed.
As he moved to do so, he noticed his right-hand adjutant approaching them. This was strange, as that man should’ve been attending to duties inside the manor.
“What happened, Gwyn?” asked Nadar, alarmed.
Gwyn didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “The portal connecting Sarawit to Alraghion has stopped functioning.”
Nadar’s heavy-lidded eyes often made him look sleepy—and, consequently, the butt of many jokes. However, his eyes shot wide open at Gwyn’s hushed whisper.
“Because of a technical issue? Or are Tiuccians barred from its use?” Nadar whispered back.
“They’ve completely sealed off the portal room, so I couldn’t determine the reason. The teleportation system is entirely managed by the adventurer’s guild, and it seems the technicians are merely following their directions.”
“They must be moving on Tiuccia,” Nadar spat. He glanced at the king before turning his attention back to Gwyn. “Have there been any signs of soldiers near the villa?”
“They still appear to be gathering their numbers, but I expect we’ll be under siege within half a day.”
“We can’t leave via portal, but we can use the waterways from the lake to Alraghion. Requisition the fastest ship available immediately; we’re getting out of Sarawit,” Nadar said. “Get a move on before we’re stuck here!”
“Understood. Shall I procure it in the name of the Master of Blades rather than Tiuccia?”
“Do it. The guild won’t try to interfere with us.”
Nadar, Master of Blades.
He knew the power of his title intimately.
Transmigrators who followed the path of a physical combat specialist needed to participate in the Cautley coming-of-age ceremony. Should his house refuse them, the road that would lead them to greater potential would be blocked.
Nadar hadn’t intended to invoke his title for personal reasons, but Tiuccia was his homeland. He bent his knee to none other than its royal family. And right now, he had no qualms about exploiting his epithet.
He continued. “There’s a water mage by the name of Rowward in our retinue. As long as we’re on the water, he should be able to clear out obstacles in our path and fend off any pursuers.”
“I’ll fetch him and arrange for our withdrawal immediately, sir.”
The captain of the guard, who was standing nearby, bowed. Distracted by his thoughts, Nadar hadn’t even noticed him approach.
Nadar felt almost as if the man had swapped places with Gwyn, who had since disappeared. Probably to secure the ship, he mused.
“We won’t arrive for some time, but we’re taking the waterways to Alraghion,” Nadar began. “Our first priority is to rendezvous with the queen consort and crown prince. There—”
The captain of the guard interrupted him. “They’re currently taking refuge at the Tiuccian embassy. Prince Erinor has returned to the academy dormitory.”
Nadar knew at once that they were safe from the captain’s report.
Within the walls of the embassy, they were beyond the reach of Raghion’s jurisdiction. The guild could not set foot in the building without permission, so there was no fear of them detaining the queen.
As for the prince, Verdurrain’s Herald—the academy he was attending—was an autonomous institution of learning that did not permit political interference. Though Prince Erinor’s attendance at the academy could be considered a hostage situation of sorts, the school ironically provided him safe harbor, and he would not be detained by the guild.
“What about the transmigrators from Tiuccia who’d joined the delegation?” Nadar asked.
“After the girl’s—er, the news arrived, they vanished. Apparently, the victim was Sakita’s fiancée.”
Nadar couldn’t bring himself to respond. His jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth.
Sakita was an SS-tier physical combat specialist who was not very sociable. While he held a respected position of great responsibility within the transmigrator community at the adventurer’s guild and actively exercised his authority within his post, he was not proactive in any other avenues. He rarely came calling on the royal palace in Tiuccia either.
Nadar remembered that, when Sakita had been selected from among the guild transmigrators to accompany the royal delegation to Raghion on their ambassador trip, he had requested to bring his fiancée.
The woman’s rank was E-tier, Nadar had heard.
Because of her rank, her participation in the diplomatic mission had been deemed inappropriate. Finding the justification fair, Sakita had withdrawn his request. In the end, Nadar had never even met his fiancée.
How had that girl ended up throwing herself from a spire in Tariyth while her fiancé was away from home? But the details had been sparse, as what they’d learned had been through the basic-level crystal balls they’d brought into Sarawit.
“The guild’s retribution’ll be fierce,” Nadar commented.
“The woman had been carrying the prince’s child. Her name had been engraved on the Right of Rule.”
“What the hell happened in Tiuccia while we were in Raghion?”
With these doubts weighing heavily on his mind, Nadar stepped toward his liege lord.
He knew he needed to evacuate the king before Raghion’s soldiers were fully assembled. If he moved too slowly, the king would indubitably be placed under house arrest, and if that came to pass, they would be cut off from learning anything else.
The adventurer’s guild was a puppet of the Raghion Empire. It served as an arm of the empire, holding absolute power within its borders. It was vital for the king to depart the villa swiftly and join the queen consort’s delegation in Alraghion without delay.
As Nadar approached, the king turned to look at him. His face was pallid, and the blood had drained from his cheeks. The knight’s report must’ve been damning.
Nadar fixed his steady gaze on his old friend and spoke.
“Alois, I’ve got a plan.”